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lily-radiance · 9 months ago

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Picture Perfect Psychopath

Doctor Jonathan Crane/ fem reader.

3.9k words

(So far, this is just a drabble, but I do have an idea of where this story could go. I've been watching The Dark Knight trilogy and got inspired. Reader works at Arkham Asylum as a psychiatrist, sharing the field of study with Scarecrow and old flame Harley Quinn. Likely not canon-compliant. Kinda merged various movies since I'm no comic book expert.)

Arkham Asylum is a cesspool of depraved criminals, as it has been for the past few years. Typical people who are suffering from mental illnesses and were sent away without care were obvious. This institution was the cheapest and easiest way to lock up the sick, even before the creation of the vigilantes. Everyone in Gotham City knew to keep their eyes on the ground and act as if crimes were invisible. If you cause a fuss in any shape or form, don't be surprised if you get dragged away in a body bag. You hated the mere thought of disregarding the pain of the city, but what could you do if no one would listen? Criminals, no matter the type, always have a story to tell.

“Bruce, the next time you interrupt my work for a house call, I'm stealing your Batmobile!”

You've been sitting in Wayne Manor for the past two hours, all because your friend wanted to “check-in” on the status of the newest patients. On any other day, you might have given him leniency, but he's been siphoning you for information without a decent break. Now, you not only have to write and submit a few dozen reports before sunset, all while juggling Bruce Wayne. The billionaire rolls his eyes but smiles, enjoying a day where he can loosen up and act as a person instead of a shadow.

“Nice try, but the garage is foolproof. I learned my lesson when you took my ride for a spin last year.”

You sip the cola in your hand, amused at the memory of speeding around the house and getting the vehicle caked in dirt. You apologized to Alfred when realizing the butler had to clean it afterward.

“Too bad, I was hoping to test the maximum speed,” you said with a chuckle, “I'm kidding, of course.”

“Sometimes, I worry about your coworkers. Do they know how much damage you can cause when bored?”

You glare at him from the couch. Work was something you liked to keep separate from life; he knew that very well. After all, if someone identified Batman successfully, then Wayne Enterprises would crumble in on itself.

“Do you know how much damage you cause when I'm not around to cover your tracks? Honestly, you may give Alfred a heart attack.”

The butler frowns at your humor before taking your empty glass. You notice the lipstick mark left over, reminding yourself to reapply the makeup. Psychiatric professionals do their best to look formal, and this habit has followed them since college. When you consider the many polished individuals at the facility, one is always at the forefront of your mind: Doctor Jonathan Crane. No matter the time of day, his appearance is that of near perfection, or you like to think so. Today, you have a briefing with him, and the idea has prompted you to dress to impress; the shade of cherry red on your lips is a testament to that.

“I'm always careful, (Y/N). I have Gordon, Alfred, and Lucius for that very purpose. You know Arkham is filled with lunatics and, more specifically, the worst villains.”

“We've had this conversation before, Bruce. I'm good at my job, and the people you lock up are kept in the deepest parts. Plus, I always hear exciting stories, which makes time fly by!”

He gives you a stern glance, not happy with your unbothered attitude. You drop the smile and sigh.

“I know you think I can't handle myself in that place. You get up close and personal with villains more often than I do. Every floor has a ton of security guards, not to mention cameras and passcodes in each room!”

Eventually, he gives up the protective demeanor. If you needed his help, he was the first in line. If not, he would be prepared for the future.

“Right, I know you're responsible and cautious, (Y/N). It's still the institution with the most significant number of patients in Gotham, so I want you to stay alert. Tim and the others are patrolling tonight if you run into trouble. Remember, the GCPD is conducting investigations on a possible new perpetrator.”

You nod to his speech, tapping your heels underneath the coffee table. He is about to give you another piece of information, but the sound of the front door opening and hurried footsteps is your cue to leave. Barbara Gordon, Tim Drake, and Jason Todd enter the room, waving a synchronous greeting in your direction. Your phone beeps in your jacket pocket, and you fumble the device when the caller is listed. Barbara notices your excitement and chuckles, watching as you answer the phone.

“Hello, this is (Y/N) (L/N); how may I help?”

“It's Dr. Crane, as you probably knew judging by how quickly you answered. The administration got caught up in other matters, so it's just you and me. Don't be late.”

The voice catches you off guard, your heart beating too quickly regarding the abrupt message. You lose your ability to speak, and like everything else, he's already caught a glimpse of it.

“Doctor—what about the meeting on security clearances? We still have much to discuss with the board; isn't this important?”

“I've already taken care of most of the concerns. Currently, my priority is talking to you about your individual endeavors regarding Arkham. Do you have an issue with this?”

As he asks, you know he's not looking for an honest answer. You swallow your pride, although tempting to draw on this further.

“No, Doctor. I'm on my way right now.”

“Good, I have high hopes you'll be fascinated by my newest work.”

You have nothing else to add as he hangs up, an annoying habit you wish didn't leave you bitter. Barbara steps over, raising a brow in examination. Your behavior, coupled with the alluring cosmetics on your face, indicates an attention to detail made to attract. The young woman tilts her head, examining your efforts, and pauses. She prevents your curiosity by grabbing a maroon scarf hung on the hat rack and placing it on your neck. As she wraps the fabric loosely around your collar, she discreetly whispers, “In case whoever you see leaves a mark or can't keep you warm. It also matches your lipstick.”

The redhead winks at you, knowing that finding worthwhile men in Gotham is a rare treat. If only you knew who you were falling for, maybe someone else could have turned your head. The likelihood of your coworker getting obsessed with another pretty face was nonexistent, especially when he knew every method of pushing your buttons.

Gotham weather stands to be frigid regardless of the season, and the cold water on your cheeks proves it. Hurriedly, you head to your car, jumping in the driver's seat and turning the hot air on. You flip the sun visor down, using the compartment mirror to double-check your appearance. You smile, wink, and perform other expressions to understand if this is too much. It's not like you dressed yourself in fancy attire, but the makeup sensation tells you this is different—the scarf clings to your shoulders, adding an extra layer of comfort.

The City appears as dreary as ever, with gray clouds looming over the skyscrapers. You knew this landscape was not as picturesque as the Bahamas, but it was familiar. In this place, you felt like a necessary presence, that your actions were genuinely helping people live. Others complain that they think soulless thoughts and have no purpose in a city of thugs, but they don't see the possibilities. No, you appreciated the constant ebb and flow pattern because it meant everything was up to chance. Unlike Harvey Dent, you had no interest in flipping a coin to decide your fate; if you wanted something and could achieve it, why worry about the downfall? Bruce told you to avoid trouble, and maybe if you tried harder, you could, but curiosity always took control. The night turned Gotham into a place of both dreams and nightmares. When the streets glow amber and the windows shine with the moon, the law is subject to change.

Rain slams against the windshield, the downpour forcing you to drive at a snail’s pace. Common sense doesn't stop other drivers from taking risky turns; some cars cut in front despite your right of way. You honk your horn at the reckless speeding, internally regretting this venture. At least twenty minutes have passed since you left, and yet you're still running late. Luckily, most security guards let you pass immediately, while one or two demand identification. If you weren't so anxious, you would see the multiple faults that made Arkham’s reputation. People were lazy, some slacking without a care. Others were too busy dealing with life changes to support this institution.

The repetitive sound of your heels clicking on the tile floor draws someone's attention. Unfortunately, you can barely avoid this girl regularly, so it makes sense that she would be another obstacle.

“Woah, pudding, you getting ready for the runway or something? I haven't seen you wear red in a long time. It makes a girl wonder, what's the occasion?”

Harleen Quinzel stands in her cell, dressed in a jumpsuit that does her no justice. Her usually dyed hair is unkempt and faded, now a dirty blonde with pigment spots. Despite her living situation, her personality is still bubbly. She holds a bent cigarette and takes a drag, then tosses the leftovers underneath her boots. The woman approaches the metal bars, wrapping her hands around two and leaning through the gap. A stream of smoke is exhaled into your face, the delinquent playfully puckering her lips.

“I have a critical meeting with Dr. Crane, and it was supposed to be with the rest of the board until something got in the way. I'm running late, and if I don't get to that office in time—”

Harley raises her index finger, pressing against your lips to stop your words.

“That does sound like a pretty jumbo deal, dollface! From one doctor to another, rescheduling an administrative meeting is unnecessarily convoluted!”

She moves her hand to cup your jaw, tilting your face in multiple angles to glimpse your handiwork. A smile spreads across her lips, her tongue licking the front of her teeth. It makes you nervous, and she knows it.

“I mean, he said he ‘took care of it,’ but I don't know if that necessarily means it was rescheduled. The board could have discussed several possibilities, so I can't guarantee anything.”

You don't know what she's trying to prove.

“Something tells me your lover boy isn't inviting you for a simple coffee. No, with a mind as unpredictable as his, I bet you'll leave here with more than a headache. That is, if you leave at all, dollface.”

Her voice digs further into your mind, higher-pitched as she giggles to herself. You adjust the scarf to distract yourself, but she won't let this topic rest.

“Harley, as much as I appreciate what I assume is a concern, I know what I'm doing.”

“Sure you do, pudding. You think he's all sweet and charming, right? Doctor Jonathan Crane, who wears a nice suit and never gets his hands dirty? He probably compliments your work and swears to get back to your questions. I'll even bet he holds your hand a little too long when he shakes it, and you don't say anything because you want his hand on yours.”

She sees the blush rising to your cheeks and continues to torment you. You can't breathe clearly, not when your lungs burn like this.

“Oh, I bet you want him to do all sorts of things to you. When he holds your hand, do you imagine it somewhere else on your body? Do you think he'll have you by the waist while his other hand traces your neck? Will he squeeze your throat and bruise the pretty skin, rubbing his tongue up and down? Will you let him devour you as I did? I bet you'll have his handprints on your thighs for weeks, the dirty little secret that you keep to yourself?”

She plays with the ends of your hair, curling the strands around her fingers. You haven't been this close to her in years, and your proximity reminds you why. Getting close to villains is a quick path to insanity. You step away from the cell, regaining your focus. A pair of footsteps echo down the stairwell, slow and precise. When you turn, your coworker is impatiently waiting, a scowl etched onto his features as he stares between you and Harley Quinn. The blonde enthusiastically waves at him, earning a glare.

“Come along; we have lots to discuss and little time to waste. I thought I clarified that I wanted you in my office five minutes ago.”

You follow his figure, a knot in your stomach at his unusual mood. The doctor could be a pain when it came to protocols, but you two got along reasonably well. He gave you criteria to follow, and more often than not, he liked to debate your findings. You hoped this was a quick conversation, but then it didn't make sense that he instructed you to take a ferry for something he could have said on the phone.

“Yes, I had to drive through the rain and rush in traffic. I wasn't counting on the weather to be so awful or for Harley Quinn to pull me aside.”

He waits by the top of the stairwell for you, watching as your heels tap the concrete. It amazed him: the concept of walking on elevated stilts that could snap like a twig. You don't miss how he scans your legs or how the muscles in your calves tighten. He extends a hand, presenting the cordiality that made you admire him in the first place. You hesitate with trembling fingers, muttering a quiet “thanks” as he holds your palm. He's warm, and it gives you too much satisfaction. Instead of letting go, he merely continues walking, carefully trailing his fingers over your radial pulse. Each thrum of your heartbeat is now in his possession of knowledge, tipping him off on your anxiety. The door to his office is down a corridor, only accessible to visitors and himself.

“Had you considered wearing gloves, Doctor? You might want to invest in case the temperature drops. If you can't use your hands, I suppose the mind is sufficient, but exhausting yourself unnecessarily is no good to anyone.”

You sit in one of the two chairs, removing your scarf and placing it in your lap. Crane takes his place behind the desk and falls into the chair, folding his hands on the flat surface.

“Believe me, if I could grab a few extra layers, I would have. I was visiting a friend when you called, and since you requested I hurry, there was no point in going home to change. I've lived in Gotham for a long time, and a storm isn't enough to stop me from doing my job. Anyway, you said there was something you needed me to examine?”

He slides a manilla folder towards you, numerous papers spilling from the seam. You take the hint to inspect the documents, flipping through the pages and absorbing the content. MRI scans, coupled with test results and psychological jargon, cover the sheets. You wrinkle your nose in focus, recognizing the highlighted areas of the brain as the amygdala and the frontal lobe. The human brain structure separates information based on its importance, using the amygdala for the fear response and the frontal lobe for rational thought. If one of these locations is compromised, whether by neural chemicals or injuries, the body cannot regulate its reactions to stressful environments. You continue reading, wholly fascinated by the hypotheses listed. The last few pages are still being worked on, primarily blank except for messily written notes. While your train of thought is still understandable, you remove a pen from your coat pocket and begin scribbling. He stares in amusement, pride blooming at your coinciding wonder.

“Doctor Crane, this is beyond incredible! If you were to develop this drug, who knows what group might want it? Not to mention the possibility of designing a formula with the opposite goal of annihilating fear entirely!”

He doesn't bother to hide the smirk on his face as you supply him an ego boost. Initially, he worried you would have an adverse reaction given your good-natured spirit, but those doubts were put to rest by the sight of your smile. The longer he allows himself to relax, the more his eyes are drawn to your lips. Red was a beautiful color on you, contrasting the dim aura of this hospital. As you revel in this energized state, you do not anticipate the foreign sensation of his mouth against yours. Recognition dawns on you as the scent of his cologne lingers, and the papers fall to the ground. You cautiously lean into his touch, grasping his shoulders to bring him closer. The fabric of his shirt bunches as you dig your fingers into the material. He has no qualms with your proximity, but he recognizes the trepidation in your movements for what it is: the worry that you'll scare him away. It's ironic, and it tells him that the only way to disprove your doubt is to make sure you know that this encounter isn't based on the heat of the moment.

He kisses you harder, pushing his tongue inside your mouth. You gasp in surprise, allowing him additional access, as well as the ability to overpower you. Never had you thought that the absurd fantasy of him kissing you would come to fruition, and certainly not in his office over research data. This was supposed to be a dull day of filing paperwork and overhearing business, not the instance where your co-worker, technically your boss, would be sharing saliva. His lips travel to your cheek, then your jaw, trailing down your neck. He has to remove the scarf and unbutton your collar to reach the desired location. You tilt your head back, moaning as he grows closer to your carotid vein. Similar to your earlier encounter, he locates your pulse, biting and sucking the skin as your heart rate increases. You admittedly have no idea what you're doing, but you do know that the image of him making out with you is extremely hot.

Yet, rational is a demon that you cannot leave behind. You're a scientist through and through, which means taking time to analyze the effects of this situation is necessary. Gently, you press against his chest, halting his actions and putting space between you. He looks down at you quizzically, adjusting his glasses that had fallen from the bridge of his nose.

“We could keep going with this course of action, not that I would complain, but maybe we should consider what we're getting ourselves into. I mean, we work together, and if we pursue a relationship, that could cause an entire slew of issues. Let’s cool our jets and think about this objectively before getting too deep.”

You feel a new weight on your chest as you try to analyze his expression. Most days, you could guess his emotions based on small talk, if he even spoke to you. Unfortunately, he's again acting like a blank slate, unreadable as the silence grows longer. Somehow, this enigma of a human specimen has become a magnetic field, drawing you in despite your better judgment. It's not that you don't want to see where this night goes, but the idea of committing to him, especially in the workplace, sends a chill down your spine.

“I see what you are getting at, (Y/N). It's not a problem if you want to think this over. Honestly, I prefer my opinion, but I see no fault in mulling it over. We wouldn't be scientists if we didn't leave decisions up to logic, would we?”

He seems calm enough, and that takes some of the pressure off. You breathe out a sigh before stretching your neck, still a bit unsure of what to do. Another beat of awkward silence follows before you work up enough courage to face him. Blue eyes catch your thousand-yard stare and dart back to the ground.

“It's getting late. D-do you need anything else from me, Jonathan?”

He is not expecting you to refer to him by his first name despite the circumstances. The sound of your hesitancy is still cute, and he wasn't expecting his name to sound so good on your tongue.

“No, I have everything I need. Do you want me to drive you home? The weather is still raining cats and dogs. Not only that, but Gotham is dangerous already, and I wouldn't want you to get hurt.”

The offer seems adequate, and you know precisely the dangers lurking outside. If not for crime and insanity, you wouldn't have a job, but that doesn't mean you want to get caught up in legal shenanigans.

“I drove to the docking bay with my car, so assuming you drive, that would leave one of us without our respective vehicles…”

“You're partially correct. I take a taxi to get around town most of the time so that I won't abandon my car here. Then again, if I drove your car, I would still have to call a cab at one point or another.”

His analysis has you pondering the options until you decide to wing it. You've already made out with your boss, how much worse could it get?

“Screw it, I'll call you a taxi myself. If the weather gets too bad, you can stay at my place for the night.”

You pick up your scarf from the chair, throwing it around your neck in preparation for the cold air outside. The hallways are still empty, and for once, you're glad since the quiet gives you space to think. All that's left is to descend the stairs, pass security, and get the hell out of there. You place your hand in your pocket to grab your identification card but pause as your co-worker is two steps ahead of you, already swiping his badge across the checkpoint. That's right, he has a higher security clearance than you; no wonder he's always early to the office.

“There ya’ are pudding! How'd that meeting go—”

Harley Quinn wastes no time in asking questions as soon as she sees you approach. The doctor next to you gives her a scowl like last time, but the reason behind it is different. Before, he was irritated by her peppy attitude, and now it's jealousy. The blonde’s expression turns into a frown, but covers it with her usual distaste for nitpicky professionals. You would find their disagreement amusing if not for your fresh taste of humanity from the critical doctor, his shell still rough around the edges. You let your mind wander, barely recognizing the arm around your shoulder until you feel the support of his body against you.

These moments are the ones that make your heart race and your mind split. You know this guy, right? He has to be one of the good men in this rotten city. If not, what would you do anyway?

If you like this check the updating version on ao3: Click

#x reader #fanfiction #batman begins #dark knight #jonathan crane x reader #scarecrow x reader #drabble #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader

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justagalwhowrites · 11 months ago

Note

who are joel and beautiful from NIT doing? I’d love a little snippet into their day! you’re amazing love you!

OMG Hi Bestie!

Such a good question! Here's some of what Joel and Beautiful got up to this evening ❤️

Manic Monday

Joel finds his fiancee relaxing without him after work. He joins in. A New in Town drabble.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader from New in Town

Warnings: Smut because it's them, obviously. No use of Y/N, minors DNI 18+ only.

Length: 2.4k

“Beautiful?” Joel frowned as he looked through the house, loosening his tie as he walked. “You home?”

It had been a hell of a Monday. He had a meetings with clients all day which meant he was stuck wearing stiffer clothes than he ever really liked, doing shit he didn’t really want to do. What’s worse, it meant he was mentally exhausted while also feeling like he’d gotten fuck all done. There was plenty he didn’t like about what he usually did on the job but one thing he’d always loved about working with his hands was the sense of accomplishment in his work. There was progress he could touch and see, a sense of pride when he stepped back and looked at something he had built. Sometimes, when he felt shitty about the way his life was going, he’d drive past old projects, just to prove to himself that he was useful. That he could do something tangible and good with what he had.

Of course, he hadn’t needed to do that in a while. Not since he met you. You, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen; you, the funnest person he’d ever met; you, the smartest person he knew - besides maybe Sarah. He didn’t need those stop gaps with you. He just felt good because he knew you were there to come home to.

Assuming you were there to come home to, of course.

Your car was in the garage but you weren’t curled up in your usual corner of the couch with a book or magazine like you so often were when Joel got home. You weren’t in the kitchen, either, getting a jump on dinner because you were too hungry to wait for Joel to get there to work on it together. He went to the bedroom and you weren’t there, either, though he recognized the pants he’d seen you set out the night before sitting in the hamper. So you’d been here at some point…

“Beautiful?” He called again, just taking off the tie now and heading to the closet to put it away. He frowned as he started to take off his shirt and then, out of the corner of his eye, caught a glimpse of the thick, fluffy bathrobe that hung on the back of his closet door. It was from the hotel where Joel had proposed just a month earlier, the two of you joking about stealing them at first before just buying a set from the front desk as a keepsake. Your matching one usually hung beside his but it was missing. He smiled a little and got undressed before pulling on his swim trunks and putting his robe over it.

“Here you are,” he smiled as he came outside and found you lounging in the hot tub the two of you had added to the back yard just a week before. Your eyes were closed, head leaned back against the corner of the tub, a blissed out look on your face. Your head snapped up at the sound of his voice and you smiled. Joel’s heart skipped a beat when he saw your smile, it always did. That he could make you that happy by simply showing up baffled him but he loved doing it. He’d do anything to make you happy, didn’t seem fair that you made the job so easy.

“Hey you,” you moved across the tub, crossing your arms over the edge of it and smiling up at him. “I lose track of time out here? How late is it?”

“Not too bad,” he said, leaning down and kissing you softly, deeply. You tasted like your favorite gum and the lip balm you put on when you got home. “Only a little after six.”

“Look at you,” you smiled wider against his lips. “Getting home at a decent time! I’m impressed.”

“Should be easier to do with these new jobs,” he said, kissing you once more, just a quick peck on the lips this time. “Mind if I join you for a few before we figure out dinner?”

“You can do anything you want with me,” you raised your eyebrows suggestively and pushed yourself back from the wall and to the corner he’d found you in originally.

“Well in that case,” Joel teased lightly, sliding the robe off before getting in the hot tub next to you. He sighed as he got in, the water gloriously warm on his skin as he sank into it. He came alongside you and you pressed yourself against his side, sighing contentedly, and he put his arm around your shoulder, kissing the top of your head as he did.

“Would you be OK just ordering a pizza?” You asked as you nuzzled closer to him. “I know it’s only Monday but I’m already exhausted. Jones fucked one of our accounts over and they handed them over to me today so I spent half the day trying to clean up his mess with the client and start trying to get copywriters moving. I feel so braindead, this week is going to chew me up and spit me out, I can tell. I probably should jump on and do some work tonight but I really needed a break first.”

“I’m sorry baby,” he gave you a squeeze. “You’re going to do amazing with it, though. There’s a reason they ask you to fix things like this and it’s because you’re great at what you do.”

“Yeah, maybe I should change that,” you sighed. “Be worse at my job so I could have a break sometime… How was your day?”

“Better than yours by the sound of it,” he smiled a little. “But pizza sounds perfect, I’m braindead, too. Client meetings ain’t exactly my strong suit.”

“But you’re so charming and hot,” he could hear the frown in your voice. “You’d think they’d all be clamoring to sign with you…”

Joel laughed a little.

“Afraid you’re the only one who thinks that, Beautiful,” he said. “Appreciate the confidence, though.”

“Must be meeting with men who are worried about you stealing their wives,” you mused. He laughed again.

“Here,” Joel said, reaching over the side of the tub to the pocket of his robe, pulling out his phone and going to the website for the pizza place the two of you had come to favor. “We’ll just get this ordered now and then that’s one thing we won’t have to think about…” He put ordered what he usually did - loving, for a moment, that he’d been with you so long that the two of you had a usual pizza order - and added some of their hottest wings and a pint of ice cream for good measure.

“There,” he said, dropping his phone back on the robe. “Ordered, so you’re not hangry later.”

“Take such good care of me,” you sighed contentedly, kissing his neck. “How long is the wait for delivery?”

“Forty minutes, give or take.”

“Hmmm,” you sighed dramatically, your hand slipping down to find Joel’s cock through his swim trunks. “I wonder how on Earth we’ll kill 40 minutes…”

“You’re dangerous,” he growled, grabbing you and pulling you on his lap as you squealed. He settled you on his thighs, your legs on either side of his own, his hardening cock brushing against your slit in your swim suit. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, wet fingers tracing through his hair.

“Am I now?” You asked pressing your warm, soft, water-slicked body against his. The plush of your breasts pressed into his chest. He nodded and you kissed him, adjusting your hips so your hot core was against the root of his length. He moaned at the contact. “Should probably do something about that.”

“Probably should,” he said, his voice low and dark and needy. He tugged you closer, kissing you desperate and deep, his tongue slipping into your mouth, tasting you, filling you how he wanted to fill other parts of you. You rocked your hips against him and he moaned into your lips, his hands spreading over every inch of skin he could reach at your back, sinking into your flesh as you pressed yourself closer and tighter.

“Don’t know why you wear a swimsuit out here,” Joel panted against you. “Always have to work around it…”

“It’s fun to act like you’ll keep your hands to yourself,” you teased lightly.

“No it ain’t,” he said, “this is better.” His hands came around to the front of you and scooped your breasts out from the confines of the suit, holding the weight of them in his hands, thumbs brushing your nipples and making you whimper. “See? Told you.”

“You’re taking advantage of my compromised state,” you said, sounding needy now. “Not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” He asked, his mouth going to the soft swell of your chest, brushing his lips over the curve of you there. “You always leave me compromised. Can’t think straight when you’re around, gotta even shit out somehow.”

“Cruel, cruel man,” you panted as he kissed over your breasts and pulled your nipple into his mouth, brushing it with the tip of his tongue, softly sucking at it.

“Want me to stop?” He asked, lifting his eyes to yours.

“Absolutely not,” you replied.

He smirked.

“Good.”

He went back to kissing and licking and sucking your skin, rocking his hips up against you as he did, before trailing his lips back up to yours, kissing you as you pressed your bared flesh to his. His cock was almost painfully hard against you as you separated from him just far enough to slip your hand between your bodies and free him from his swim trunks, working his thick, hard shaft with a needy moan. Your thumb brushed his leaking head and he groaned, pressing his face into your neck as you stroked him up and down, squeezing him just right.

“Almost like you want me to come in the water and not you,” he panted against you.

“Definitely don’t want that,” you sounded needier than he did and he smiled, reaching between your thighs to run his index finger over your still clothed slit before gathering the fabric and tucking it to the side.

“Good,” he said, taking his cock from you as you rose up just enough for him to notch himself at your entrance. “Neither do it.”

He pushed just the head of him inside of you and you moaned with it, your tight, wet heat even better than the warmth of the water around the two of you. He took your waist and pulled you down on himself, all of his cock spreading your walls apart in one swift stroke. You gasped, head going back and eyes closed and Joel felt your pussy contract once around him as he bottomed out in you.

“Fuck, Beautiful,” he panted. “You already close?”

You just nodded urgently, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

“Let’s make it a real good one then, baby,” he said, starting to guide you over his length. He fucked up into you as you rode him, your body pliant in his hands as your channel grew tighter and tighter around him. The rhythm set, he moved one hand to the small of your back, the other to your clit, thumb pressing and working the tight bundle of nerves as he pressed you closer.

“Fuck,” you whimpered, motion stuttering for a moment as your body tightened around his own. “Joel…”

You rose and fell over him, the pleasure of you growing and settling in him with every building stroke, your body molding to perfectly to take him.

“Come on Beautiful,” he whispered, pressing himself deep, struggling to hold off his own orgasm. You just felt so damn good inside. So soft, so wet, so warm, so his. It was primal, the urge to come deep inside of you. Like if he did, it would claim you in some way, as though it was possible to belong to another person any more than he belonged to you or you to him. “Want you to come for me, just come for me, you can do it, just let it all go for me, give in for me, let yourself feel it…”

He fucked up and deep into you at the same time as he pressed down on the small of your back and your clit and you cried out, your pussy clenching so tight around him for a moment that it almost hurt before throbbing and fluttering over his thick length. He moaned and let his orgasm hit him, too, the heat of it flowing from what felt like every inch of his being as he spilled into you, rope after rope of his come filling you.

You collapsed on top of him when you finished, your head resting on his shoulder as his cock started to soften deep within you. He just held onto you, your limbs limp and pliant, as you came back down to earth, one of his hands trailing a soothing path up and down your spine.

“Fuck, Joel,” you said, still sounding a little breathless.

He laughed a little.

“Feeling better?” He asked, kissing your shoulder. You nodded against him. “Good.”

“You?” You asked, raising your head just enough to look at him. “Because if not, we can try again…”

“Oh I’m doing much better,” he replied. “Think you just might be the cure for all that ails me, Beautiful.”

You buried your face in the crook of his neck and giggled a little.

“Good,” your lips brushed his neck and Joel started to get hard again, his cock still inside of you. “Still think we should go for round two though…”

“Anybody back there?”

Your head shot up from Joel’s shoulder and Joel’s head spun to look toward the privacy fence where the voice had come from.

“Sorry,” the man said. “I just think I have a pizza for you…”

“One second!” Joel called as you tugged the top of your suit back up. He gently lifted you off of him and he tucked himself back inside his suit as you adjusted yours, too. He smiled a little at you. “After pizza?”

“Definitely,” you smiled as the two of you got out of the hot tub to have dinner. “I never argue with dessert. Especially not on a Monday.”

Joel opened the sliding glass door for you and gave you a quick kiss before going to get the door.

“Me either, Beautiful.”

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #send asks #kit answers #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #smut fic #new in town

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gooeyringtown · 1 year ago

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drummer au headcanons

barbie as a drummer in a grunge/garage rock band has been IN my mind so hard lately & well i had to do something…….

credits to @hellsfireclub & @el-fandom-phantom for some of these too btw <33 feeding my delusions 😋

it starts when barbie is like in 8th or 9th grade, she and her friends (probably ken & basketball ken [kingsley ben-adir’s ken, to clarify]) find some instruments at a garage sale or thrift store

they’re not in the greatest shape, but they get the job done and they sound decent. the three of them spend their afternoons after school playing random beats and just messing around, simply having fun while trying to get a hang of the instruments

barbie tries her luck with the guitar but she doesn’t quite like it. she can play it just fine, but she doesn’t feel it flow out of her the way it seems to for ken

(basketball ken plays the bass)

barbie has a little bit of a crisis…. her friends are really great at guitar & bass, and what about her!! what is she good at?? does she have any musical ability??

she doesn’t realize that whenever she listens to music, she is always tapping her foot/bouncing her leg, or drumming her fingers, or tapping out somehow, the rhythm of the song. always following the beat, without even thinking

basketball ken’s dad has an old drum set in the garage that barbie sees one day when they decide to practice at his house one afternoon

and as soon as barbie sees it…. it finally clicks

she is an absolute natural with the drums. the beat simply flows through her and it’s like she doesn’t even have to try

(obviously she does, though. she is only around 14/15, and far from the greatest in the world.)

she feels damn proud of herself though, for finally finding her calling. and she has so much fun playing. it’s addicting, and they’ll all spend hours, until barbie has nailed a new routine or solo and feels extremely satisfied

it continues like this through high school. as they get older, they get a little more ‘serious.’ aka they branch out and try new styles. ken takes up vocals alongside guitar, and basketball ken + barbie do back-up.

by senior year, they’ve amassed a pretty impressive base of people who know them. they mostly stick to covers, though they do dabble in attempting original music from time to time

(it’s also worth noting that all 3 of them can play the instruments interchangeably, but they strongly prefer to stick to their one, mainly)

they play local gigs at taverns & such in their town, and they’re always a blast

barbie finds herself loving & craving more of that. she’s obsessed with the feeling of the spotlight sort of on her, the adrenaline from when she’s cranking out this music, feeling the beat in her and causing people such a fun time. it’s the idea of creating that fills her with this joy

barbie saves up and for her graduation gift, her parents help her pay half and half for a new drum set. and this is quite possibly the happiest day of barbie’s life

the 3 of them take a gap year: basketball ken undertakes an internship at a law firm his mom is a partner at, ken is a leader at an equestrian camp, and barbie does some volunteer work at an animal shelter

in between their work, they still meet up and practice. the summer after their gap year is the greatest; they play with a renewed freedom, and let months of repressed musical talent finally bleed again.

they book gig after gig, at some local places for the summer but also branching out to new and nearby towns, just to get a taste

(barbie only seems to get prettier and prettier, and she most definitely has people lining up trying to get her attention. she is so oblivious though, and frankly, just not interested. no one has caught her eye. music is her priority and she’s busy with figuring school out and reworking her job schedule, so she doesn’t have time.)

that is, until, one night at a gig, barbie spots literally the most beautiful girl she has ever seen in the crowd, just before their set

she has these gorgeous big brown eyes that look at her for a second, and it’s enough to have barbie’s heart running wild. she finds herself playing with extra vigor that night, trying extra hard to be at her very best and shine just a little brighter

the kens definitely notice and are hyping her up like crazy after the show

“barbie, holy shit, you KILLED IT!” “where did THAT come from!!!”

turns out the girl is there with allan, ken’s friend. and she’s invited backstage with them

barbie turns to look at her, and the kens immediately know why barbie was so extra sublime that night

her name is gloria, and barbie is like marry me

the kens most definitely tease her immensely following that night. whenever they have an upcoming gig, barbie tries to very subtly and sneakily ask if any of ken’s friends will be there. (if allan will be there again.)

(her sneakiness is to no avail, though, because the kens know she’s asking if gloria will be there again, and they make so much fun of her.)

all barbie can do is blush and hide her face.

(though she does grumble that at least she has girls who have been interested, unlike the two of them.)

yep. that does the job. the kens are pouty messes for the rest of the day.

the next time barbie sees gloria at a show, gloria is wearing this pink flowery band-aid on her finger, from a little cut she received

barbie traces the pad of her finger along the band-aid, while the two of them sit on a couch backstage and talk

(it’s so subtle, her touch, but gloria’s heart is hammering in her chest.)

summer ends, and barbie goes off to school. it’s not too far away, but not close either. and gloria goes to school elsewhere. they definitely keep in touch though, and actually talk and text constantly

they meet up halfway during every possible chance they have. 3 day weekends, spring or winter breaks. you name it.

actually, for spring break, they have a gig. barbie has just turned 21, and they’re going to some bar in the dusty middle of nowhere

it’s an amazing show. gloria is there, so of course it is, for barbie

they buy her a round of shots afterwards, and they stay to dance and play pool

barbie sobers up and is quite hungry, so she and gloria sneak off to get some burgers and a milkshake

it’s nearly 2 in the morning by the time they leave, and the kens are probably wasted, so they decide to buy some cheap clothes to sleep in and find a motel to spend the night in

while gloria gets settled into their room, barbie goes out to get them some waters from the vending machine

when she comes back, she sits on the bed while gloria changes into the pajama shirt

but there’s a mirror … and gloria’s back is right there, with no bra, and barbie can see—

gloria looks up, and the two lock eyes through the mirror, and she knows barbie is looking

barbie flushes a fierce red, looking away quickly and feeling horribly invasive and gross. she gets up briskly and walks over to the bathroom, muttering a ‘sorry’ the whole way there

she shuts herself in, but the door is just barely closed when gloria knocks on it

barbie is shaking, but she opens it. she hasnt even turned the light on, and she is a tall shadow in the doorway

she and gloria stare at each other, for a few moments, the tension palpable

and then gloria pulls barbie down and kisses her

and fucking finally

(is what the kens say. and allan. everyone who knows them, pretty much.)

they start dating and are long distance while they go to school

barbie does this thing where she wears the pink flowery bandaids on her finger, the kind that gloria had on the night they first met

it kinda helps her feel like she is showing off her loyalty. it’s like her version of a promise ring, essentially

she also takes exceptional care of her hands, after gloria tells her how soft they are despite the expected callouses from years of drumming

granted, her right (and dominant) hand is a little more roughened up than her left, but they’re still very soft

(plus that little callousness, that touch of roughness, is delicious on gloria’s belly, trembling and pulled taut, as the softness of barbie’s other hand travels up the inside of gloria’s thigh and in between her legs)

(i mean come on. just because barbie isn’t a guitarist doesn’t mean her fingers aren’t deft and very skilled.)

gloria is a rockstar gf

no seriously like she’s at every one of barbie’s gigs, front row, and barbie dedicates every show to her.

(she kisses the bandaids on her fingers to give herself luck as well.)

barbie turns 22, and ken helps her paint her drum set pink. she also gets pink drumsticks

as a birthday gift, gloria gets barbie this heart shaped locket where she can put any picture in it

(barbie, of course, puts a picture of them kissing in it)

(gloria melts)

as a surprise, for their anniversary, barbie secretly writes a song for gloria. and at their gig, she performs it at the end of their set

gloria starts crying as she watches barbie sing and listens to her beautiful voice, knowing the song is just for her and how hard barbie must have worked on it

barbie pulls her onstage at the end of the song

and her hair is all messy and tousled, face glistening with light sweat, body warm and wired with energy, hands on gloria’s waist, blue eyes twinkling and smile so pretty and brilliant and in love

and so is gloria, so she throws herself around barbie and kisses her passionately, right under the pink concert lights in front of everyone

because her gf is a rockstar!!!!!

SORRY THIS IS MESSY but i needed to get it out <33 THEY ARE SO CUTE! my bbys

#barbie 2023 #barbie #glorbie #gloria x barbie #barbie x gloria #barbie headcanons #barbiegloria #glorbie headcanons #drummer au #margot robbie #america ferrera

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verdemoun · 7 months ago

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can I get some timewarp Charles or Dutch? I love your au 😭

cracks every bone in my hands lets fucking gooo

charles blessed and beloved. he died of illness in 1908 but it was so peaceful he died in his sleep in a warm bed and as got sick he accepted it with a very similar flare to hosea talking about bessie where he was quietly hopeful he would get to see arthur again and instead of being jolted to the present like the more violent deaths he just woke up peacefully to an arthur that got to age and looks healthy and is smiling at him so affectionately because he missed him so much

they're in love, your honor

arthur already has his own place (very close to hosea's, of course) so charles immediately moves in with arthur and they fall into domestic bliss without actually having the conversation of 'i know we were close friends and confidants with unaddressed feelings in the past and it's been almost a decade and you had to mourn me but do you want to be my partner for the rest of our natural lives btw i have an adult son'

charles is still awkward though he didn't understand life and people in 1899 sometimes modern era is just too much they'll be grocery shopping and someone will say a new sentence so stupid he has to go sit in the truck and just disengage with society for a while.

he has zero social media presence and cannot handle the constant depression of tv news media. what do you mean people are still fighting over civil rights and racism back in my day you could throw a stick of dynamite at a kkk meeting or shoot a eugenicist in front of the law and no one cared. if he's home alone he's listening to cds on through an actual cd player

charles smith would absolutely fuck with a home depot helping john build beecher's hope awakened something in him. the garage is almost as big as their house on one side you have arthur's eclectic collection of passing interests including the car he's working on and on the other side you have precision organised charles's expanse of every kind of tool you can imagine. hand tools power tools different kinds of wood organized by tree and then grain

he might be a little in love with the customer service guy at the tool shop who is similarly awkward and accidentally blunt with a flat sense of humor. no small talk. just 'this is my project' 'you will need this. this is the brand we're meant to promote but this is just as effective with more attachments and it's cheaper' 'thank you' 'it's literally my job'. sometimes they go to each others workshops to show off their projects he is charles 'doesn't drain my social battery' friend

charles' job title is just 'decent guy with a truck' every construction company in the local area has his number and will send him a text asking him to help out on a job or if they can borrow some obscure power tool only charles smith would have. it suits charles really well because it means he can just turn off his phone and go on a spontaneous three week hunting trip with arthur and isaac without needing to communicate with anyone. people know if you don't hear back within 15 minutes he's turned off his phone and you will hear from him when he gets back from whatever adventure he's gone on with his family find someone else to do the job

for a lot of the gang they almost have to get to know charles again like he became a lot more comfortable with himself as a person between 1899 and 1907 the first time he cracks jokes or acts downright silly they almost don't recognize him. like yass charles be happy.

admittedly he is the guy they call to help build furniture charles doesn't follow ikea instructions he just rocks up with a drill and assembles it the way that makes sense

eliza and charles are besties and arthur lives in constant fear. they go out for coffee and gossip about whatever the latest antic is. she talks to charles honestly more than arthur and takes charles to functions when she needs a plus one because they are both just wallflowers who talk shit about everyone else quietly. isaac sitting patiently in the principal's office having gotten in trouble for something stupid with the most passive aggressive slight smile on his face as he hears charles and eliza pull up (arthur got banned for threatening the principal)

i may need to part 2 this for dutch

#rdr2 timewarp au #charles smith

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waters-and-the-wilde · 1 year ago

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fuck it okay i am once again thinking about Jet teaching Nureyev how to cook

it starts with Juno trying to teach Nureyev how to cook, because Juno can cook and Nureyev realizes he's never had the chance to learn how and wants to make a go of it. it Goes Poorly not because Nureyev is a disgrace who sets the kitchen on fire, but because between the way he is as a person and the way Juno is as a person, it's an extremely frustrating experience. Juno Can Cook but that doesn't mean he Can Teach, there are a lot of concepts that he can just take for granted because of like growing up In A House and knowing What Appliances Do. he knows how to throw together some decent meals but not how to Explain The Process and Demonstrate How It Works, 'i dunno it just does okay??'

It's a whole 'can they assemble ikea furniture together' type thing, every time they try Juno gets impatient and Nureyev gets defensive and they wind up bickering and having to troubleshoot their communication again later that evening. maybe they manage to get through making what they set out to do but Nureyev doesn't actually feel like he retained any of the knowledge to be able to do it again next time, and neither of them really enjoy the experience which is a bummer for them both in its own right.

but Nureyev as a guy who can do anything he sets his mind to is like 'nonetheless i must learn to make a breakfast for my lady love for the days when he can't get out of bed.' and he starts watching Jet, who fields most of the family dinner type meals and has a sourdough starter and ferments things. he could ask Jet if he wants help, but it's hard enough trying to learn new things and make mistakes and be bad at things in front of Juno and he's feeling discouraged enough that he does not want to deal with Jet thinking he's just ingratiating and underfoot, or bluntly picking apart everything he's doing wrong, he might actually cry okay? he's already anxious enough about Wasting Food or Causing A Fire or Damaging The Cooking Implements. but if Jet says he wants help that's fine because Nureyev is more than happy to Be Available and in the meantime he'll do his best to absorb things by proximity

Jet does not know why Ransom is hovering in the kitchen watching him cook, but if he cared to know, he would ask point blank. and if Ransom does not want to be voluntold to help with dinner, he would not hover in the kitchen. Nureyev's nefarious scheme is working, insofar as Jet does not respond to hints but he does do what he wants and he wants help with cooking dinner. Nureyev is now in a position to Ask Questions, and the brilliant thing about working with Jet is that Nureyev can in fact Ask A Stupid Question and Get A Stupid Answer concise and matter-of-fact face-value response to something that might otherwise be considered obvious. and if Jet is being facetious, he's doing a damn good job at not showing it (and also he tends to save that up for Juno)

it is still a frustrating experience because Cooking Is Very Difficult and Nureyey is Trying Very Hard and getting distracted and flustered and making just the worst jokes around someone who does not think he is even a little bit funny and is not about to bother to pretend otherwise. and there is absolutely no one better for this right now. because The Thing Is. that Jet Gets It. because he had to claw his way into 'repetition and focus; control over every part' years ago. because it is abundantly clear to him that he is not teaching Ransom How To Cook, but How To Learn New Things When Not Under Extreme Duress. because Jet Has Opinions about Contriving Surprise Factors In The Learning Process and the moment Nureyev indicates that was how he was taught, his immediate response is 'then whoever taught you that that was very irresponsible and should not have done so'

(Nureyev gets very quiet and spacey for the rest of the day and eventually Juno storms into the garage spoiling for a fight, all 'what the hell did you say to him I haven't even been able to find him for the last three hours' and Jet very gravely relays the conversation and 'it was not my intention to upset him but unless he is able to communicate why he is upset, I am in no position to address it' but Juno's just still staring at him and then he sits down and then he starts getting the big sad-eye and then he's like 'never mind Big Guy. hey completely unrelated but can I um. give you a hug?')

#the penumbra podcast #tpp #peter nureyev #jet sikuliaq #i love my gay space crimes family #it's about the adhd solidarity fistbump

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writtenonreceipts · 1 year ago

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This is the chapter that kinda started it all, especially the flashback. I’m trying to make things move faster than they want to. I think I’m just resigned to be that fic writer who never finishes anything. Sorry you have to deal with me…

Find the Masterlist Here // Ao3 Link

Warnings: These apply to the flashback portion at the end of the chapter: language (nothing major, just more than I typically like using), war, blood, injury, minor character death, if you’re iffy/worried dm me or send an ask and I can summarize details if you’d like.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

Where We've Been, Where We're Going--Part Eight

The next few days continued in an easy rhythm.

Rowan didn’t know what surprised him more--that he adapted so easily to the various tasks he had on hand or that he and Aelin had entered into a cautious friendship.

Though, to be frank, cautious was putting it lightly. It was a situation he’d never found himself in before and he wasn’t sure how to proceed. He made sure he wasn’t in the house when Aelin wasn’t and tried to stay out even when she was home, only returning when he had to or she sent him a message about an extra pizza slice in the fridge for him. But he didn’t want to intrude. Or he really just didn’t want to run the risk of letting something slip or proving just how incapable he was at being around other people.

Keeping busy helped.

Unfortunately, he didn’t sleep any better which was more of a pain than he’d let anyone know. During the day he could distract himself with various tasks of making sure fence posts were even or he did a decent job installing windows. At night, alone and in the silence, was when his mind would wander most. It was here in the quiet confines of his mind that his memories came out from the shadows.

For now, it was easy enough to keep to himself. When he got too restless at night he’d go out and sit in the bed of the truck and stare out at the night sky. More often than not, it was cloudless and he could watch the stars. It was much as he did in Kovac only with different constellations.

The only thing that really bothered him was ignoring the various texts and calls now that he was letting his phone remain charged up. He’d only done it to keep Aelin appraised of his watching Meiri that one night. And then, for some reason, he left the damn thing on and charged ever since.

Aelin only sent him a few messages during the day. Mostly simple reminders to eat something. And then a few updates on Emrys as well. Rowan didn’t tell Aelin he’d given Malakai his number already. He didn’t want to run the risk of her not messaging as often as she did.

Which he realized made him a miserable ass, but he already knew that.

By the time two full weeks had passed since his arrival, Rowan had become a recognizable figure in Terrasen. People actually knew his name and would greet him on the street or at the store. Some would hire him out for odd jobs in their yards, even Sartaq let Rowan swing by to fix up a few other cars on occasion.

He was still helping get the motel up and running of course. Emrys was still in rehab after some tests came back a little less optimistic than what the doctors preferred. So, Rowan kept up his usual ritual of odd job help in the morning and hammering away at the motel until well into the night.

The routine was more helpful than he’d ever admit.

It almost made it easier to bear the memories.

Until his phone kept buzzing. There was only one consistent number that reached out to him and after a while, Rowan wondered if he should just save the new contact.

Which was probably why he was currently distracting himself at Sartaq’s garage.

It was a late Friday afternoon with the usual summer heat and bright sunlight banking through the open doors. Rowan was staring down into a nearly obliterated radiator and hose tear wondering just how poorly this car had been treated in the past when Sartaq finally broached a topic he’d much rather had avoided.

They’d both served in Kovac, Sartaq for such a short time and Rowan had been busy in sniper training that they’d never met. Sartaq also hadn’t been in a position that could also lead him to potential harm. Family strings and all. Rowan didn’t begrudge the man for that--as far as he could tell, Sartaq would have been in the front lines even now if his family would allow it. Instead, to keep him from getting himself killed, his wealthy parents let him land in Terrasen fixing up old cars. Rowan had the feeling his new friend resented his family quite a bit even if he liked the work he was doing.

“Did you ever go to Orynth?” Sartaq asked. He leaned over another car that had been brought over doing a general assessment on what would just be a break-check and oil change.

Rowan paused to wipe his hands on a grease rag, not really wanting to talk about the war. But he figured Sartaq would be a decent enough guy to back off if Rowan started showing any signs of disinterest in the topic.

“No, but I heard it was rough,” he said. “One of my mates was reassigned there for a few weeks out of punishment.”

Lorcan never did say why Maeve made him go, just that he’d learned his lesson on the matter. He did, however, share that they could all consider themselves lucky for not going. Lorcan had always been that way: never sharing anything, never revealing anything, never opening up with vulnerability.

“Nesryn was stationed there for ages,” Sartaq said. He often referred to his friend as though Rowan knew her himself. As it was, she was a constant staple of conversation in the garage. “Always said it was the worst place to be.”

“Isn’t she the one that would whip out a bow and arrow instead of actually using a gun in training?” Rowan asked. In all honesty, he was desperate to have some sort of a good connection to his memories of Kovac instead of the blood and violence and misery. So why not play into this conversation just a little?

Sartaq chuckled. “Yeah, probably. She was only a translator so she never liked using a gun, but the locals had bows and arrows to use when their resources were so shitty. So she’d entertain the kids when their parents were dying or after a raid when the Valg gangs would wreak havoc. She was good like that.”

Rowan remembered her. He’d never actually met her, only saw brief snippets of her or heard other soldiers talk about how she’d take no shit or stupid orders. The one real memory he had occured after that damn raid that sent the rest of his military career into hell.

He’d been kicked out of a debriefing and instead was trying to clean his rifle when this woman waltz through camp with a bow and arrow. She had a bag full of candy and water on one shoulder and a beautiful handcrafted weapon on the other. Kids tentatively approached while she put on a small show of all the odd places she could land and arrow from all sorts of strange positions.

It was the first time in a long time he’d seen the kids of the village smile.

“Yeah, Maeve got pissed at her for it too,” Rowan said. He loosened a bolt on one of the spring clamps that needed to be replaced. “Said she was being too distracting. But Nesryn just shot an apple straight from a kid's hand. Didn’t even look.”

With a fond shake of his head, Sartaq didn’t say anything for a minute. “You were under Maeve’s command?”

And just like that, Rowan felt an icy dread pool in his gut.

“Yeah.”

“I heard about her and that prick Hammel.”

Static started buzzing in Rowan’s ears. He crossed to where there were some extra bolts and equipment waiting to be used. Tacky sweat gathered on his skin and he wondered if he could get along with disinterested grunts the rest of the day.

“They were always so elitist, yeah? Really careful about who they let on their squad.”

Sartaq didn’t notice Rowan’s dilemma in the slightest. Which was supposedly a good thing. If he didn’t notice then he wouldn’t ask about it.

“How’d you manage to be a part of that little cadre?”

“I was a sniper,” Rowan said. He took his time picking out a new bolt, clamp, and radiator hose that would fit the car’s needs he was working on. “Had the best marks, I guess.”

“Strange she’d let you go after getting her claws in you.”

“Proof we don’t always get what we want,” Rowan said, lightly. He added a laugh, strained though it was.

So, Sartaq didn’t know about that last mission. Not surprising considering how long he’d been out, but still. Rowan was grateful he didn’t have to talk about it. He could manage a passing tale about Talbot if he needed. But that last raid? The one where he’d screwed up enough to be stripped of his previous honors? To be dishonorably discharged? That one he’d take with him to his grave.

…

It was late the next day when Rowan got a call he actually wanted to pick up.

He was back at the motel trying to figure out how to reach one of the window ledges that had not been planned out very well when his phone buzzed. The only reason he knew who it was was because Aelin stood and watched as he saved the number.

MALAKAI steamed across the screen in bold letters.

For a moment, Rowan worried if it was bad news. He wasn’t sure he could handle a messy phone call. But then he managed to convince himself that Malakai certainly wouldn’t try calling him if it were bad news about Emrys. He’d be too focused on Aelin and his son. So, Rowan picked up the call.

“Malakai,” he greeted.

“Rowan, glad you have caught you,” Malakai said. The unspoken I didn’t know if you’d actually answer was particularly loud in the brief silence that followed. “I wanted to let you know that Emrys’ numbers improved and he’s being discharged tomorrow.”

It was a strange thing to feel joy. Especially when it had been so long since the last time you felt it. So when his heart skipped and all the tension eased from his body, Rowan had no idea how to respond.

“That’s,” he finally managed, “that’s good to hear.”

“I tried calling Aelin, but I know she’s on shift,” Malakai said. “I know it would mean a lot to her if she knew sooner rather than later. Would you mind going--”

“I can do that,” Rowan cut in. Hell, there was nothing he’d want to do more. “I’ll head over there now, I was just finishing up one of the windows at the motel.”

There was a beat. “You were doing what now?”

Ah. He’d forgotten he hadn’t actually told Malakai what he’d been doing the last two weeks. Everyone just assumed he had and Rowan went along with it.

“I gotta go.” Rowan hung up. He didn’t really like talking to people anyways.

He made quick work of packing up and ensuring the motel was locked. The ladder went around the far corner of the motel near the alleyway. Despite some rambunctious teens and the usual problematic people in a small town, nothing was really in danger of getting stolen. Plus, Rowan would see to it personally if anything was taken from Malakai and Emrys.

He closed up his tool box and settled it in the bed of his truck before driving the short few blocks to the diner.

The parking lot was nearly empty aside from Nox’s car around back. Aelin usually walked to work whenever she could. Only a dark truck was in the lot and Rowan recognized that as Mr. Aguayo’s. He always swung by to purchase an order of steak and gravy for his pregnant wife.

Rowan parked near the back of the lot, not minding an extra walk. It was still warm even as the summer days slowly drifted closer to fall. From what he’d heard, it wasn’t until October that the weather drifted below seventy degrees. And then usually the first snow came in November. It’d been ages since Rowan had experienced snow and he wondered what it would be like…

Though, he’d be leaving soon enough so it didn’t really matter.

Mr. Aguayo was leaving just as Rowan walked up to the door. They exchanged a quick greeting--Rowan really didn’t know the man very well aside from his small landscaping business. And Mrs. Aguayo loved her steak cooked at a medium rare. And she often craved Funyuns too.

Once inside the diner, Rowan almost felt like home. The 50’s aesthetic was just as garish as the first day he’d been in there. The red booths and checked floor looked a bit tired, but clean.

“Welcome in! Oh, Rowan.” Aelin rounded the corner from the back of the restaurant, dressed in her usual shorts, t-shirt, and an apron that had seen better days. Her blonde hair was in a long braid over one shoulder, frayed edges poking out after a day of running between tables. “You here to eat?”

“Have you checked your phone recently?” he asked instead, though he knew that if she’d seen any messages from Malakai she would have already heard the news and would have been telling him all about it.

She frowned, scrambling for the pockets of her apron. “What happened? Is it Marion?”

“Wh-No, no,” Rowan said. He wondered briefly why her mind went straight to Marion, but he hurried to cross the space between them to reassure her. He rested a hand on her arm before he thought better of it. “It’s good news, I promise.”

She stared at him with wide, blue eyes. There was apprehension there, but trust too. It had been so long since anyone had looked at him like that, trusting and open, that Rowan found himself speechless.

“Emrys is being released from the hospital tomorrow.” He didn’t want her hanging on anymore of his words waiting for bad news. “Malakai just called me.”

Aelin released a shaky breath before she laughed. And then, in a turn of events that Rowan had not expected, she threw her arms around him in a hug.

The first thing Rowan noticed was the fact that Aelin smelled like jasmine and honey. The second was her soft curves and vice like grip. And then he thought about how long it had been since someone had hugged him.

No one on his squad cared for anything other than the roughhousing or smacks upside the head. He hadn’t seen either of his cousins since before he enlisted and even then, the Whitethorn’s weren’t touchy-feely. And that was it. That was everyone he knew that he would even consider hugging. And here was Aelin who had been through hell and back hugging him as though they were friends as though she actually liked him.

And he had no idea what to do.

Oh he knew the mechanics of a hug and how not to be a complete robot in his emotions. Somewhat. But this was Aelin. Who in just a few short weeks had come to actually mean something to him even if he didn’t know how to define it. And he was Rowan who had only ever been a complete and utter screw-up. In everything.

“Sorry,” Aelin said, pulling back while Rowan just stood there. Her cheeks were flushed with a mix of embarrassment and residual excitement. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I wasn’t thinking.”

Rowan cleared his throat, nose still tingling with the scent of her. “It’s fine. It’s good news.”

“Yeah, it is,” she agreed. She was still smiling but it was jaded now after he’d gone and made things awkward by not hugging her back. She brushed an errant hair from her eyes and didn’t meet his eyes. “Really good news. I know they’re both ready for him to be home. And Luca will be so excited too. He’s been a mess since it happened.”

“It’ll be good for him to come home,” Rowan said. This was the type of news everyone deserved to receive. The type of news Rowan wished he could have given more than he did.

“Emrys always had that way about him of just making a place home, you know? And giving me so much patience when I didn’t deserve it.” Aelin exhaled slowly before looking at him. “Thank-you for coming to tell me.”

“I was glad to,” he said. Really, it was the best change of pace from having to acknowledge another death. And if it meant seeing her smile like that and have a bit of joy in her life? Rowan would do anything for her to keep smiling, he decided.

“I’ve been a mess all week with his new tests going through,” Aelin said as she finished pulling her phone out of her apron pocket. “And Meiri is not enjoying daycare this summer, plus Marion--”

She waved a hand in dismissal and pulled up Malakai’s number on her screen. Rowan should have left then, a part of him was screaming too. She still had an hour on her shift, he’d told her what he wanted to, and there was still daylight left to try and finish another window at the motel. And if not that, Murtaugh at the hardware store donated paint to help give the motel a new look. Rowan could start in on that. And yet, he stayed.

“Malakai,” Aelin said when the other line picked up. “Yeah, no, Rowan just told me. He’s coming home tomorrow?...Good, that’s so good to hear…I’ll make sure Chaol brings Luca home…You too.”

She hung up, a small smile still on her lips.

“We’re going to have a welcome home party,” she announced. She nodded firmly to assert her words more fully. “With chocolate cake.”

There was nothing that sounded more like Aelin than chocolate cake and parties. Rowan could easily imagine that Aelin would put an overwhelming amount of detail and care into such a venture. For the first time in knowing her, she actually looked happy and at peace. Which, from what Rowan had gathered about her, was a miracle in itself.

“You’re going to come, right?” Aelin asked.

Rowan hesitated. As of late, he’d never been one for social gatherings. Especially not with so many people he didn’t know. Sure the last few weeks he’d gotten to know many of the people in town. But it wasn’t the same. Not when the second the motel was finished he’d be gone and in California.

Crowds especially had been difficult and he’d avoided them ever since coming back home. Most of the time he knew what his triggers were and how to avoid them. Being in a crowded room could easily overwhelm him.

“I--” Rowan was blissfully cut off when the door of the diner opened and Chaol walked in.

The sheriff was only partially dressed in his uniform--the tan pants that most law officers wore looked a little worse for wear as they were stained with dirt, grass, and dark splotches that were almost certainly blood. Instead of the usual brown button-up, he wore a plain white t-shirt that was a mess of dirt and dried blood.

“What happened to you?” Aelin asked when she took Chaol in.

“Bad day,” Chaol said. He scowled and ran a hand through his short hair. “Told Luca I’d pick up food.”

It looked decidedly worse than a bad day but Rowan had a feeling Aelin was already gearing up to chew Chaol out.

“You have blood on your shirt,” she said, resting her hands on her hips. She fixed Chaol with a glare that rivaled even the worst that Rowan had received.

Chaol returned the deadpanned stare. “It’s fine.”

Rolling her eyes, Aelin turned to head back to the kitchen. “There’s a few extra sandwiches in the back, give me a minute and I’ll do up some fries.”

“Thank’s Aelin,” Chaol called after her. She waved a hand overhead to acknowledge she’d heard.

It was only when she was gone that Chaol sighed and ran a hand over his face. He eyed Rowan for a moment before speaking up.

“It was an accident involving a kid,” Chaol admitted lightly. “Ten-years old. Nothing anyone could have done. And you know she wouldn’t take that easily.”

It was the simplest explanation he could have given, but Rowan could already paint an exact picture of what had happened. Especially with how run down Chaol appeared now. Rowan wondered why Chaol would take it on himself to use a filter around Aelin, especially considering her no nonsense attitude and strong will to simply survive. Though, he’d try not to judge the sheriff too harshly for his choice.

He’d lived through his fair share of accidents. Accidents where no matter what anyone did it just wasn’t enough.

Rowan knew exactly what that was like.

“I’m sorry,” he said honestly.

He thought, briefly, about spoiling the news of Emrys’ hospital release, but decided that would best be left for Aelin to reveal. Besides, he needed to leave. He didn’t know where he needed to be just anywhere but here.

Instead, Rowan offered a single nod and headed back out of the diner. “Have a good night.”

Chaol frowned in confusion, gesturing to the kitchen doorway where Aelin had gone. “Do you want--”

But Rowan was already gone, lost to the heat of the night and the memories of his past.

…

There was a man dying next to him.

Rowan didn’t know him. Rowan didn’t want to know him.

All he knew was that just moments before this man had been trying to kill him. And he knew that now, amid the darkening shadows of the night, he was trying to say one final round of prayers. And he knew that the blood seeping into the dusty ground was innocent. Innocent. Innocent because what right did Rowan have to kill this man? Because of a raid that might not amount to anything? Because of a war that had been drawn on so long that violence had become the only answer for any question asked.

The man’s final breath rattled wetly.

Forcing the man from his mind, Rowan pulled his knife from the man's gut and returned to his rifle. He had to wipe the blood from his fingers first, but that couldn’t be avoided. He slowly wrapped his fingers around the grips and rested his finger on the trigger. When a soft breeze blew, the wet blood caused a chill to snatch across his skin.

Through his sights he could see the streets of the village they were about to raid. Maeve was insistent the Valg gang that had been terrorizing this side of the city would be moving weapons tonight. Rowan didn’t know where exactly the intel had come from, only that it was from a reliable source. He supposed the dead man beside him was evidence enough.

Hammel had barely developed a plan besides watching the trucks that rolled in and out of the city. Even though it had been one week since his arrival, the new co-captain hardly seemed interested in doing his job.

“White Hawk?” Gavriel’s voice came over on the coms. “I saw signs of a struggle. You good?”

Rowan clicked his com in acknowledgement.

“Where’s Talbot?” Gavriel demanded. “Shouldn’t he have your back?”

“Taking care of a few spooks, sir,” came Talbot’s quiet reply, “circling back now.”

Rowan hadn’t been concerned over the kid making sure they wouldn’t have any more surprises. While Talbot was a little younger than him, he was eager and a hard worker. Smart too. He would trust him with his life and not just because he had to.

“All clear at the North and East entrances,” Rowan murmured in his coms.

At his words he watched as Hernandez led a group of her soldiers through the street to the building in question. Rowan had seen at least three targets circle back to the building over the course of the night, each either carrying something or pushing a cart. The thing was, this area was family dense. Someone could simply be transporting food or extra blankets or wanting to move in the dark without being seen.

Then why had the man beside him tried to attack him?

Rowan watched and listened as Hammel ordered the entrance. Half of the squad took the front and Gavriel led the others through the back. It would play out like it always did: orders to stand down, not to move, don’t resist, watch the west side.

It was how it should have gone.

“Front’s still clear,” Rowan said into his coms, “Redline, what’s your status?”

Talbot remained silent.

“Redline?” Rowan repeated. He switched to the mainline for the rest of the squad just in case the network was fritzing. “Talbot, check in.”

There was a flicker to the north side of the building the squad was raiding. Rowan turned his scope in that direction and adjusted his sights.

“Lionheart we’ve got a bogie to the north, Redline is unresponsive.”

“Roger that,” Gavriel responded. “Keep your eyes open, White Hawk.”

Rowan tried to ignore the feeling in his gut that grew with every passing second. Something was wrong. He didn’t know what it was, but it was damn near palpable. Talbot never went radio silent. Not like this. Hell, he had to remind the kid to stop talking when they were on stakeouts. But Talbot was still responsible. He knew his duties and he did them well.

For one, brief moment, Rowan considered leaving his post and looking for the kid. But with Maeve and Hammel watching, he knew he couldn’t. All he could do was hope the kid showed up. Maybe his radio disconnected and he just hadn’t noticed. Or he didn’t charge it properly before the mission. It had happened once before. Or--

“White Hawk?” Talbot’s quiet voice crackled through Rowan’s radio.

Thank the fates. “Where the hell have you been, kid? I’ve been--”

“Found something,” Talbot cut in. His voice was still distorted with a bad connection, static fizzing and popping horribly. “Had to make sure,” a loud pop of static, “something’s wrong, can’t reach Lionheart.”

“Repeat that, Redline, you’re breaking up,” Rowan said. He kept his sights trained on where he’d seen the flicker of movement, knowing Gavriel was keeping tabs on the other side of the homestead they were raiding. As far as Rowan could tell there was just a flickering curtain he’d already cleared. And a flash of silver but given this part of the village that shouldn’t be a concern. He’d noticed something similar, but it flicked so irregularly that he decided it was nothing important. Morse code wasn’t universal, but Rowan knew most codes various countries used and there was no discernible pattern that he could note.

“Rowan,” Talbot’s voice finally rang clear and strong.

“Talbot--Danny,” Rowan sighed, relieved. “What happened?”

“Think I was spotted,” Talbot said, “I came back around to see where the bogie came from. Saw something weird. Rowan, we gotta pull out.”

“Hold on kid.” Rowan did a sweep of the surrounding area but didn’t see anything. “Where are you?”

“North. There’s a few Kovac soldiers dragging boxes around,” Talbot said as the static returned. “Rowan…I think they’re smugglers not--”

Talbot was cut off by something crashing on his end followed by a shout in another language.

“Talbot?” Rowan shifted, drawing one hand to his commlink and pressing it into his ear, as if that would help with the connection. When no response came Rowan switched frequencies. “Lionheart, we’ve got a situation. I think Redline found trouble.”

There was a pause and a round of muffled voices before Gavriel responded.

“Copy,” Gavriel finally replied. “We’ve got it under control here, I’ll send Fenrys--”

“There’s no time,” Rowan said, nerves spiking despite how hard he was working to control himself.

Rowan was up and moving before the captain finished speaking. He made sure to stay low and keep his position as uncompromised as possible. The hot air whipped around him digging sand between his skin and the straps of his goggles. Sweat trickled down his back as he moved. Even at night the heat was unbearable.

The discomfort all but faded from Rowan’s mind as he ran down the dusty trail than wound down from his snipers nest. Underbrush crunched beneath his feet and sand picked up in thick plumes. Rowan hardly noticed. In a matter of minutes he was down from the bluffs and in the near empty streets. He hardly noticed the weight of his rifle in his hands as he ducked behind the wall of a small home. There was nothing to indicate any potential danger.

He slipped around the corner keeping his gun ready and eyes open. Nothing. Nothing but the wind picking up and the sound of scattering debris.

“Whitethorn, what are you doing?” Gavriel demanded through the comms.

Rowan ignored him as he sprinted down the road to the building he last saw Talbot clear. He was closing in by the yards, slipping behind doorways or abandoned carts when he thought he saw something. He didn’t dare try and contact Talbot in case his radio crackled, giving him away.

On cat's feet, Rowan darted the last stretch of road to where he’d last clocked Talbot. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary--no extra footsteps, no strange sights. All there was, was the faint, sweet scent of almonds. But then it dissipated.

Rowan was about to risk radioing Talbot just to see if he saw anything, or if he’d changed location when the first shot rang out.

The singular pop echoed through the otherwise silent night.

And Rowan felt his heart seize.

Time passed too slow as he dropped all pretense of stealth. Another gunshot rang out as Rowan pushed himself harder through the streets. He threw open the door of the house Talbot was checking. Through his radio he heard Hammel and Gavriel both yelling at him. The first to stand down the second to report.

Rowan focused only on his steps, his breathing, the tight turn around a corner and the body he found slumped against the wall.

Blood smeared in an aftershadow against the dark wood and already began trickling down in a slow, slow pull.

“Man down,” Rowan said into his radio, “medic needed.”

His voice was strangely calm as he said the words.

His body too as he dropped down beside Talbot. Already there was a pool of blood forming beneath the other man. How, with all the layers Talbot was wearing, was that possible? Rowan wouldn’t let himself think of the implications.

“Talbot,” he said, pressing his hands over the first entry wound he saw, hot blood wrapped around his fingers. “Talbot, look at me!”

With a groan and a cough, Talbot’s eyes fluttered open. “What’re y’doing, Whitethorn?”

“Applying pressure, you idiot,” Rowan said. “You’re gonna be fine, alrigh’?”

Talbot tried to laugh and Rowan pretended it wasn’t blood pooling at the corners of his mouth.

“Two gunshot wounds, gut ‘nd chest. I’m not…I’m not--”

“Shut up,” Rowan growled, “I said you’re gonna be fine.”

His radio was going off with demands for answers, the eta of a medic, the call for a pull back. Rowan ignored it all. He should have been able to respond to some of the calls, should have multi-tasked, but all he could do was apply pressure to the wounds hemorrhaging blood and the way Talbot’s face quickly became ashen.

“Just talk to me, alright, kid?” he said. “What happened? We had the clear.”

Talbot’s head lolled to the side, eyes bleary as he tried to focus. “I saw him.”

“Who? Who’d you see?” Where was the medic?

“Thought my mind was playing tricks on me, he shouldn’t be here,” Talbot continued. He weakly raised a hand to latch on to Rowan’s wrist. “Rowan--”

He had no idea what Talbot was going on about. The slur of his words, the confusion--none of it was good. Rowan pressed harder on the wounds, blood hot even as the beat of Talbot’s heart stuttered.

“We’re gonna get you fixed up,” Rowan said, “then you're gonna go home and see your mom, alright? I’ll come visit, you can show me all there is to see. Like that county fair, yeah?”

“It ain’t shit,” Talbot laughed, falling into a wet cough. Rowan held him down. “You should go to the mountains. The mountains--”

Rowan’s radio crackled. Medic on route. They should have already been here.

“You gotta do something for me Rowan,” Talbot said, his voice growing too weak. “You gotta tell my family--”

“Tell them yourself.”

“Tell them, I’m so-sorry.”

Rowan stared down at his friend. Slowly, the rest of the world came back. The too hot air and metallic tang of blood. The shouts in the distance. The decrepit creak of wood where they sat. There was noise and chaos in a world that just kept moving and Rowan…and Rowan…

“It’s gonna be fine,” Talbot whispered.

And then he was gone.

And Rowan had blood on his hands.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

tags still aren't working for me so if you'd reblog for more people to see this update, I'd really appreciate it. as always, i'm so grateful for ya'll <3

#rowaelin #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #throne of glass #tog #throne of glass fanfiction #fanfic #fic #where weve been where were going #wwb wwg

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silvermare · 1 year ago

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If you know me outside of Tumblr, don't tell my mom

I said goodbye to my old car last night. Vivid green 2012 Hyundai Accent hatchback. That thing had stellar fuckin gas mileage (for a non-hybrid anyway, I could squeeze like 40mpg out of it if I tried), hauled around way too much shit, played FAFO with black ice, was stolen in Amarillo, TX and recovered south of Oklahoma City, OK - and for context, I live in Indianapolis - back in 2018, and transported many friends and even some coworkers. It also has had kernels of dry field corn in the floorboard for the past two years. Oh, and I broke the frickin passenger side mirror by backing out of the garage too close.

Her name was Arachnaverde because she was green and I kept an anatomically incorrect spider skeleton (halloween decoration) on the dashboard. Spood's job was to let me know when I was taking a turn too fast. He would skitter away if I did.

Prior to Arachnaverde, I had a 1994 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme that I called Madame Blueberry. She was a lovely teal color, had two doors, and I once forgot an entire watermelon in the back floorboard in college and it rotted and stank so badly. -4/10 do not recommend. Also her trunk had loose soybeans from when I took a few dried soybean plants for some reason or another. ADHD be like that sometimes.

Prior to Madame Blueberry, I had an unnamed charcoal gray 89 Mercury Grand Marquis. This car had one interesting anecdote, and 3 notable events.

In the long long ago when I was still in junior college (2 year college for people who live in states that don't fuck with junior colleges), I left it overnight in the college parking lot for some reason I no longer recall. When I retrieved it in the morning, someone had used car window paint to write "HOOPTY" on the back windshield. To be fair, it was.

That car was how I learned not to leave a can of silly string in a hot car. Did you know if a can of silly string gets hot enough it will straight up explode? I didn't until I found a really messy plastic bag and blue spatters all over the roof of my car.

I used to park under a specific tree in front of the house, because I lived with my parents on a farm, and the garage was for my mom's vehicle, no one else's. Dad's main ride parked in the patch of ground between the barnyard fence and the garage (dad's parking spot, mostly), and the farm truck parked in the barnyard. Anyway, point is, I parked under a tree which worked quite well for many years except at the very end a large fragment of dead tree pierced my car *right* in front of the hood so I had a rough rectangle of Missing Car for the tail end of my ownership.

Anyway, I've known for months that I needed to get a new car. Needed new front struts, a replacement sensor in the steering column, new back brakes, new front tires.... I tried back in May but for some reason the car I found just didn't vibe with me (Mitsubishi Mirage). It was kinda noisy, very basic. Also very cheap.

Last week, the stars aligned and I found a hopeful prospect with low mileage, decent mpg, and within my budget.

So now I have a new-to-me brick of tofu (white Kia Soul 2020).

I have said my farewells to the green beast, and look forward to what kind of adventures I'll get into with the as-of-yet-unnamed toaster.

So far the best name I've come up with is Tofungus because I am awful. I definitely want to give it a black horizontal stripe and add the "Fujiwara Tofu Shop" decal to the side because i'm a fuckin weeb and also did you know there's a sequel to Initial D this season? I'm enjoying it.

#cars #new cars #old cars #nostalgia #car stories #adhd stories #car names #naming #initial d #mf ghost #kia #kia soul #adventures #adventure time

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nancypullen · 4 months ago

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Well, Hey There!

Gosh, I let the last few days get away from me and this poor ol' blog paid the price. I don't even have anything exciting to report, I've just been puttering - a bit in the yard, a bit in the house, even did a little Xmas shopping, but mostly a whole lot of nothing.

A decision was made that we would not be joining the Y, so I'm trying to discipline myself into at least a 30 minute dance workout every day. Let's just say I'm not very disciplined. There's a treadmill in the garage that works perfectly fine and I really don't mind turning on some music or a podcast and killing 30 minutes on it. Unfortunately I can always find something else that I want to do more - like reading, painting, watching a murder show, writing limericks, picking fuzz out of my navel, watching clouds, naming birds at the birdfeeder...see? Busy, busy. Speaking of that treadmill, until recently it was blocked by that desk/hutch combo that I bought at an auction for 7 dollars.

I finally painted it and got it moved into my craft room!

I'm still organizing it and will probably switch the items on the shelves until I'm satisfied. I'll move that basket out from under the desk too. I suppose it's the lighting, but the handles and knobs really do match. Know what my favorite bit is?

The bottles.

Those are just old Starbucks bottles. I painted the lids with the same paint I used on the desk and then sorted my buttons into them. I need a couple more for black and brown, so I have to keep drinking.

I'm tickled with the extra storage (the drawers are so tidy!) and I love it when organization can be pretty.

The drawers have glues, scissors, blank cards & envelopes, cardstock for printing my dead people, etc. The shelves hold everything else I use for my silly cards.

My paper is sorted in those clear bins on the right - I only bought four, so it's sorted into florals, patterns, holidays, and "special" stuff like maps, sheet music, and that sort of thing. I didn't have to buy anything else, the baskets and stuff were hanging around the house waiting for a job to do. The wooden crate holding markers, colored pencils, and paint pens was gifted to me from Tyler & Jamie's wedding.

Remember that Goodwill print that I was turning into a witchy picture? I finally stopped dabbling with it and put it back in the frame. First I painted the frame black, and because I ruined the original mat (oops) I had to fish around and find one that would work. Nothing I had on hand fit the print and I wasn't about to buy a new mat, so I edged the print with gingham and lace (my answer for everything) and slapped it in the frame.

Poor photography skills, but you get the idea. What was once a prim and proper street scene is now giving Halloween vibes. now it can go into the back of a closet with the rest of them. Why do I do this?? I should take them all and donate them back to Goodwill and let them find homes. I'm home alone. For the last two days Mickey has been out day and night snapping photos of Summerfest, Denton's big bash marking the end of summer. I hope Mother Nature sees it and turns the heat down. It's been drizzling on and off today, so I'm sure everything is steamy. No, thank you. Hard pass. There will be a handful of vendors selling stuff I don't need, no decent food or food trucks, a decent selection of bands playing at different times and on different stages, a great area for kids with slides and bouncy houses, and at the end of the night, fireworks. I may go sit on the front porch later and take a peek at the fireworks. I was spoiled by attending the Wilson County Fair every August , that was always the official goodbye to summer for us, even though the weather didn't break until a month later. Annnd speaking of weather, I saw that The Old Farmers' Almanac issued their winter forecast. I was disappointed.

We're up there under "Mild,Wet". Every year I cross my fingers for "Cold, Above Average Snowfall" and it never happens. Thanks to Climate Change I think it's going to become rare if not extinct.

Oh well, I need to tidy up a bit and then choose a movie to watch with the girls. This is who I mean by "the girls."

They keep begging for the BBC version of Jane Austen's Persuasion, so it looks like tonight is the night. I'll try to think of something more interesting to write about tomorrow. The rest of the week may be a wash. We're getting the grandgirl on Monday and returning her Thursday, so I'll be busy and tired. It's her last week before school starts so there needs to be some fun. She's had a great summer, vacation and camps, but we'll have some Grancy-style fun. Look at these cute sprinkles I picked up for back-to-school cupcakes. Perfect for a first grader!

I'll have to see if there's a movie playing that she might be interested in, and I'll bet she'd like to go on a treasure hunt in Target with me. The rest of the time it will be Barbies, pool, books, and probably some arts and crafts. The only things that she requested I add to the grocery list (I asked) are apples, pretzels, and pizza Lunchables. I have a feeling her parents may want me to get some veggies and good protein into her. Grandpa sees nothing wrong with that list. If I turn my back he'll have her at the 7-11 getting a blue Icee right before dinner. Anywayyyy, I'm rambling. I'll wrap this up by saying that I hope your Saturday evening is a delight. If that means running wild with friends or being in your jammies by sundown, I hope you love every minute of it. Sending out loads of love tonight. Take what you need and pass it on. Stay safe, stay well. XOXO, Nancy

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forestryfae · 2 years ago

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like i LITERALLY JUST want to be able to get rid of the house. i just wanna get rid of it and not have to keep paying for i ad i wanna move somewhere i will actually like living and im not stuck at home unless someone "graciously" drives me, and get a job so i actually have money and can afford to save up money for thing i genuinely want and havent just taught myself to want because its cheap and its decent so i should like it, and to actually have a nice clean tidy house, and a car so i can buy some FUCKING boxes and plasic bags so i can get rid of all the shit i dont want and maybe even just straight up sell or give away the nicer stuff i dont want. like thats it. but i just straight up dont have that option cus i gotta make food for myself so i dont starve and i need to relax too so i dont literally burn myself out and i need to sleep and i have to shower and pee sometimes too like i JUST want to be able to clean the house non-stop for like a week straight. i just wanna put shit in garage bags and throw them out. noones gonna want fucking 1 year old hairdye or unused makeup or three identical mugs or a fuckton of reuseable straws and i dont think i have the patience to sell a bunch of clothes even tho theyre perfectly fine and barely used. unless people come pick up the shit themselves, in which id be more than willing to just give shit away if they did that so i dont have to deal with the fucking transport or shipping.

i just have SO MUCH SHIT and its mostly garbage or shit i dont want or use anymore. or its fucking gifted shit i dont want anymore because frankly, why is my only option to get any furniture always to either buy thrifted shit or be given secondhand shit from my family. its one thing if i want it but they dont even ask or show it to me first and they dont help me when i want something new and actually useful. they just show up and theyve brought me something and we thought maybe youd need it so well just leave it here and you can get rid of it if you dont want it. I PHYSICALLY CANT GET RID OF IT. I DONT HAVE A CAR. and im not throwing perfectly useable but ugly lamps in the regular trash. take it to a fucking thrift store you morons. get rid of some of your shit instead of giving it to me. if you cant manage to get rid of it without giving it to someone so youll know its safe or whatever the fuck then just. dont get rid of it. keep it yourself. dont give shit to me so i can borrow it indefinitely. like i JUST. want MY OWN PLACE. THAT I CAN FEEL OKAY IN. and not feel like its a pissing contest every fucking time someone comes over cus they GOTTA fill my house with shit, they just HAVE TO do shit without even discussing it with me, i literally cant say no i dont want visitors today without them showing up and throwng a bitchfit when theyre not welcome the one day i said i didnt want to see anyone, they dont take a no i dont want help with that as an answer and do it anyways, i cant even buy my own shit cus they take over and do everythig for me.

no fucking independence or control or boundaries or respect or basic fucking decency and absolutely no empathy or compassion at all.

i have to BEG them to come visit me and they still wont do it, but when i go grocery shopping and need a ride i dont get home until after 9pm and more often than not close to 1 am, and the ONE time i explicitly said i didnt want visitors was the one day mom showed up and threw a bitchfit cus i was upset. i told mom i spent literally hours every day crying and feeling anxious and awful and she just ignored it and forgot to call the doctor the one time she offered to do it for me. i dont even get to be a part of renovating the house cus mom and stepdad took over and wont talk to me and spent all the money and wont even talk to me about the money or tell me whats in the bank accounts unless someone else asks on my behalf. noone is willing to teach me to drive even tho mom nagged me when i was 17. i can literally not talk to anyone about my feelings or shit im worried about, i literally only hear about how its my fault somehow, or i get some useless advice that doesnt help cus it doesnt fucking apply, or i get an empty promise that theyll help and then nothing happens and im selfish for asking and nagging them cus they have their own lives and their lives cant revolve around me. which is so fucking ironic cus i dont even get a phonecall once a month to see how im doing or talk about things and i certainly dont get visitors unless its got to do with the house or that one time mom had a day off and apparently that means she can come visit with no heads up just so she can sit there and bitch about my dad or my brother. she doesnt ask how it was like living with them or how i feel about the situation or anything, its all them and their fucking feelings. its never about me and im made to feel stupid and embarrassed and childish and like a fucking moron any time i have emotions they dont want me to have.

and on top of all this i didnt even get talked to as a kid. i was practically useless and just something they leave unattended until they felt like yelling or screaming at me or wanted me to do chores or some other boring fucking activity that i didnt want to do. asking me how my day was or having a conversation or talking to me about something i liked or just regular conversations about stuff? nah fuck that do your homework and also dinner today is a fucking sandwich cus i wanna be in the garage doing my hobby and fixing cars.

and then i come home after having had a really good time at the inpatient unit im at, and its a mess and theres shit in places its not supposed to be and im up to my fucking neck in laundry and dishes and shes done something i didnt want her to do again, and i cant even complain cus i risk not having her help with the shit i actually need help with that i have no option in asking for, like grocery store rides or someone to feed my cats while im away or help renovating the house. i cant even ask for help to buy some fucking boxes or i risk never getting them.

like i JUST want a fucking car and license and i wanna get rid of this house and i want some godd damn boxes. literally the only things i need in life to be happy rn.

#talkie

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surrexi · 2 years ago

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am finally going to be officially moving back to san antonio, which is good because it's going to be easier for me to find a goddamn job, as well as help out my parents when they need it. have been in SA for the last week and half helping out because my dad had some minor outpatient surgery and then we also went apartment hunting. since i don't have a job yet my dad is graciously lending me his stupidly excellent credit rating and multiple pensions income and co-signing a lease with me and covering rent until i get a job. (yes i am stupidly lucky that my parents are the kind of people they are.)

we found an apartment i think i'm really going to like. it's a 2 bed/2 bath place so i get to still have a craft/office room, a small dining area off the kitchen that i think i'm actually going to turn into a reading nook because the kitchen has a counter i can put chairs/stools at for eating space, and an attached garage. like not a community-wide parking garage, a personal attached garage with stairs directly up into my second-floor apartment. also! there are no breed restrictions so no one will get pissy about my english staffy who i could have brought with me anyway because my therapist has officially declared her my emotional support dog, but also they just took a copy of the letter that says that and didn't make any trouble about me not having to pay the pet fees because of the fair housing act. and the dog park is pretty well shaded, which is good for south-central texas, and it even has little tunnels and balance beams like they have in dog shows, lol.

anyway i officially take possession of the apartment on june 19th but i'm probably going to be doing the actual furniture moving in the last week of june or the first week of july, we haven't scheduled it yet.

this is good because i have felt so. stuck. for a long while, and part of that was still living in college station even though it's not a great job market for me. also my internet in college station sucks so much and i'm so excited to get decent internet lmao. anyway here's hoping the move goes smoothly and that i like the apartment once i get all my stuff in it as much as i liked the empty version lol.

#this has been a post #moving

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mechtroid · 11 months ago

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Okay, so, in college I roomed with a guy named David. He had a friend, who we'll call Mike, that was a bit socially awkward. In the "Oh hey, I came to hang with David unannounced. Oh, he isn't here? That's okay, I'll wait on the couch until he gets back in an hour." way. Otherwise a half decent guy, but didn't fit in with the rest of our house's software engineering nerds. (Later in this story I would find out he became an investment banker, which explained a lot, really.)

Anyways, flash forward about two years and a dude rolls up next to me in a six-figure car and rolls down the window. I assume I've pissed someone off, but no, it's Mike poking his head out and yelling "HOLY SHIT COLE HOW YOU DOING?" He turns on his hazard lights and parks on the side of the road. To jump out and say hi. We exchange awkward small talk until I mention I'm enjoying my birthday next week and he goes "Dude really? I know an amazing place to go to, they have the world's best blueberry tea. Give me your number, we'll grab lunch soon" and then he jumps back in his car, ignores the huge line of cars that couldn't get past his, and drives off.

Fast forward to next week. I have already forgotten about the lunch offer when he calls me up and goes "OKAY I'M DOWNSTAIRS IN THE P! No hurry, though, I just closed a massive account, so I'm taking the rest of the day off to celebrate." I quickly jot down a note to myself on what I was coding and hurry down to the parking garage level. I would like to point out this is an employees only area. He was not an employee. I step out of the elevator to see a different capital-E Expensive car waiting for me, and Mike urging me to get in.

Dear readers, I need to get one thing straight here. I am but a simple code monkey. I went to work that day in my semi-formal attire. That is, I wore sneakers and a hoodie instead of flip-flops and a hoodie. So imagine my reaction when he drives us a few blocks and parks in front of an office building with men (and of course, only men) in full suits and ties streaming in and out of it, carrying briefcases and talking on their bluetooth headsets. Imagine my anxiety rising with the elevator as we took it all the way to the penthouse. I am literally flashbanged as the doors open to a dainty cafe set in marble and chandeliers, full of people who were even more well-dressed than the ones below, all having small meals and talking business.

This was the lion's den I stepped into as Mike's birthday present quickly transformed into the social equivalent of a live hand grenade lovingly shoved into my hands. The maître d' gives me the stink-eye as I obviously do not live up to the standards of the dress code. He approaches me to say as much until he sees Mike walk out of the elevator and begins to beam. "Ah, Mike! Twice in one day? Would you like the usual, or something lighter?"

"A blueberry tea for each of us," Mike requests, "and would you mind grabbing us a window seat? It's Cole's birthday!" The maître d' smiles at me through gritted teeth and seats us. Mike and I make small talk--this is when I find out the exact nature of his job-- and I can feel the glare of the other occupants hot on the back of my neck.

Soon though, all of this was worth it, as our meal (it came with scones! I love scones!) arrived. And, my friends, I have to admit: Mike was right.

That was some fucking good blueberry tea.

we should talk more about cities that are vampires. cities that are cold and wet and sink into your bones and stay there. cities that are hungry and want to live. dead cities that dont know they're dead and suck the life force of their people to maintain the delusion. cities with harbors that are actually mouths; one-way entries. cities that are devastatingly lonely and see consumption as love

#I don't really blame Mike for any of this to be clear #To crib a line from Disco Elysium #He has very different problems compared to low-net-worth individuals such as myself. For example--No problems at all.

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jodilin65 · 3 years ago

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FRIDAY, APRIL 30, 2021 Finishing up watching Season 22 of Law & Order SVU. I can barely stand to get through it since it’s all political shit I’ve had enough of along with constantly blaming whites for the world’s problems and portraying everyone else as if they’re perfect little angels.

Andy received his diamond desert painting and said it was beautiful and thoughtful of me to send. Good to know it held up in transit! I figured it would, though.

Tom saw something parked next door that had to do with painting. We’re guessing they’re going to paint the interior and not the exterior since the exterior doesn’t look bad. It may be a while before it’s on the market but I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if we were still here when the newcomers arrive, and of course, if there’s a cock in the picture, I can just imagine all the sawing and other projects coming from the garage that I’ll have to listen to.

But then again, I’m seriously beginning to wonder if we’re ever going to get out of here in the first place and if we aren’t already in our forever home. We’ve been ignored by everyone so far. If that’s not something that wants us trapped here then I don’t know what is. I just know I don’t want to work for something that isn’t meant to be. If we’re meant to live our lives here, then I think we should do what we can to make it our own and exactly what we want it to be, including soundproofing. He would probably have to work until he was 70 and refinance the house at some point because it’s expensive here but California gives breaks to seniors and would foot most of the bill when it came to replacing windows and things like that. He’s already talking about signing up with DoorDash or something like that if we’re still here in mid-June.

He still thinks we’re going to get out of here and that if worse comes to worst, he gets a job and we take out a loan to flip the place ourselves. But being ignored is very discouraging. I don’t doubt that if I suddenly loved it here, then I’m sure we would get a call today and a decent offer tomorrow. But for reasons I’ll never understand, I’m just not meant to be where I wanna be. I’ve been getting stuck in places almost all my life so I might as well stop trying to escape what I’m not meant to escape and make the best of it. Maybe it really is time to appreciate what we do have rather than fight for what we don’t. It may get a little too cold in the winter for me but at least it’s a dry climate and the state has Death with Dignity if we ever needed it.

I’m just tired of looking for this dream house that doesn’t exist. The pattern of being stuck in places I don’t want to be in goes too far back to think it could be a coincidence or random chance, but whatever is meant to be will be and there isn’t much we can do about it as much as we might like to tell ourselves otherwise. This is a reminder that quite often, we can’t just up and do whatever the hell we want in life.

If there is something up there that’s determined to keep me from having a great place in a great climate, I don’t know why. I assume it has its reasons even though those reasons may be scarily twisted. I don’t know what to think anymore. I just see a very obvious pattern and trend I’ve been on for decades and I think it’s time to quit trying to swim against the current and settling in to make do with what I’ve got. There are millions of people that would kill to live here and they wouldn’t give a shit about traffic or planes either. They would absolutely love it here. All those people starving in third world countries…so yeah, this is my home and I’m gonna make the best of it! Instead of being spoiled and complaining so much, every time I hear one plane after another, I’ll remind myself of how much worse it could be.

I was running Grammarly through some stories and was shocked and disappointed by the typos and grammatical errors I found in The Wrong Sister, which I had previously published. Even more so by the fact that I had a few people read it yet not one of them ever thought to point them out to me.

THURSDAY, APRIL 29, 2021 I’m glad Aly is doing better but still angry that people like Kim never seem to have a problem. Or very rarely, anyway. I don’t have to ask anyone to know she’s still healthy as ever and her worst problem is having to get off her ass and move around a bit, do some chores, and struggle to control her obsessive urges to send whoever she’s currently obsessed with a million letters, emails, whatever.

Not looking forward to the day she’s back online in full swing and back to her blocking game as well, which I’ll never understand. I guess some people flatter themselves by thinking people are interested in everything they do. I’m probably going to ignore her when she finally reaches out to me because I’ve simply had it with the mentally ill. They’re just too much of a headache for me to deal with. No “friendship” should be that much work with me constantly trying to sort facts from fiction, defend or explain myself, or put up with moods and paranoia. I used to feel guilty about my wanting to avoid them but then I realized I have just as much right as anyone else to pick and choose who I associate with. Just like some people don’t like people who aren’t religious or who are into drugs, I’m not into the mentally ill.

Speaking of mental-related things, I had mild anxiety yesterday and the day before and I’m sure I’ll have it again today. The question is how long will this spell last? Days? Weeks? Months?

We’ve been completely blown off so far by the home buyers which is so frustrating and disappointing but not at all surprising. I always did say nothing’s going to let us out of here easily. So much for my April offer vibe.

I noticed a long time ago that whenever I bring up something Aly doesn’t want to discuss, she simply ignores it unless I push for an answer of some kind. When I made the comment about looking forward to seeing pictures and checking out her new house on Google Maps and she never responded in any way, I knew she was going to hold out on me. That’s just how she deals with unwanted topics of discussion. She simply remains quiet.

I pointed out that she’s the only one I’ve never seen a picture of with her other half as I have with most of my other friends and acquaintances.

She said nothing.

Then when she talked about doing what she can to get herself home to Cam, I said if she really goes with him and not her parents, I’m going to wish I sent her gift there. Then I said that maybe for her 41st birthday, she’ll feel confident enough that she’ll be sticking around to share the address if that’s what it’s really about.

Again, she said nothing.

I’m not stupid. I know she’s never going to disclose her address or Cam’s last name so I can never look anything up. Again, I wonder what the hell she’s hiding. He either doesn’t exist or there’s something about him that she or they don’t want me to find out. Cam once said “yes” to being asked if he’d ever been arrested on Ask. I wonder if it’s got anything to do with that.

What is she going to do when her parents move to Florida, though? Get a PO box?

I miss living in a quieter world. I really do. I miss the pre-boom car stereo days but I would hate to go back to when we didn’t have all the fun and wonderful technology we have today that makes life so much easier even if some of it can be complicated to figure out.

I miss the days when you could walk into a store or a restaurant and not have to listen to music playing too loud.

I miss the days when you didn’t notice traffic much or anything going on in the sky.

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 28, 2021 Yesterday was a disappointing day. Not a single call or email from any of the buyers and I even had a little anxiety on top of it as well. The start of another long spell or an isolated incident perhaps due to the stress of waiting for someone to contact us? Guess I’ll find that out as the day progresses.

At least there is some good news and that’s that Aly’s being transferred to a rehab center and Blitz was adopted. Yay!

We didn’t go to Goodwill yesterday but we switched the bedroom curtains to the curved rods so light can’t seep out the sides. I just see a little spray of light on top and that’s it. Makes the bedroom nice and relaxingly dark for daytime sleeping. I just wish there had been something to make it a hell of a lot more peaceful but I can assure you that the skies have long since surpassed any annoyances on the ground. It was just horrible yesterday. It was a windy day and I guess the combination of the direction of the wind and the thickness of the air amplified the sounds but forget about every few minutes. It was more like every few seconds! There were times I would hear a commercial plane and a helicopter at the same time. It’s just fucking ridiculous between all the commercial planes, helicopters, and small planes. Even if we narrowed it down to just one type of aircraft, it would still be excessive. Not one of them is just once in a while. They’re all unbelievably frequent and unlike any other place I’ve ever lived.

Managed to do some more sorting and packing yesterday but for the most part, we can’t pack up much more until the last minute. The question is when that will be. We agreed we would be worried if we don’t hear from anyone by Friday at which time we’ll seek out a realtor next Monday. I looked back in my 2004 journal, and when we contacted a realtor to sell our Maricopa house, we also thought we’d been blown off when we didn’t hear from anyone the following day. But the day after that, we did. So hopefully we’ll hear from someone today!

There is definitely a lock on the doorknob next door. But is it for a realtor or someone the family is going to have work on the place?

Today we went to Goodwill and I’m guessing we’ll have one or two more trips at the very end.

I wasn’t kidding when I told Andy not to tell anyone where we were going because someone is always connected to someone who is connected to someone we’re in touch with and my business always ends up being some people’s business that I would rather not know what’s going on with me. Believe me, I was thrilled when he said he wasn’t mentioning me to his family because there’s no doubt word would have gotten back to Norma and or her daughters which would have in turn found its way to the termites, of course.

Well, by accident I saw that Wendy K is a friend of Norma’s. I went to school with her! I wonder how in the world they ended up friends.

I was also surprised to find a friend request from Michelle, Norma’s daughter. She’s always been the friendliest of the 3 daughters. I’m surprised she wants to add me, though, because I deleted her a long time ago when she first requested to add me because I rarely heard from her. These days I’m finding that deadbeat Facebook friends no longer bother me and I realize it’s not hurting anything for them to just sit quietly on my friend list. I’m antisocial for the most part and only care to spend so much time socializing anyway. I prefer to have one or two close friends I’m in touch with regularly and that’s it. I’m glad Andy is busy with his groups which he says requires about 3 hours of editing and babysitting a day but that he built up and is proud of. I think we get along better if we don’t have too much interaction anyway. It’s funny because Aly and I actually get along better even though we’re more different than Andy and I are. But then again, are we? Sure, Andy and I still have things in common but it does seem like we grew to be different from each other over time.

Anyway, it’s kinda funny that Norma messages me with cute rat pictures at the same time Michelle wants to add me again. Naturally, that paranoid side of me kicked in and I wondered if they were real accounts or clones and if the Termite Tammy may be behind them. I’m sure the accounts are legit, though, and the termite has nothing to do with it. What would the termite do anyway, tell them to send a friend request and rat pics because she hasn’t heard from me?

She and her shitty daughters will hear from me as soon as we get out of here. It’s very important that I’m out of this house first in case she figures out the address because she is definitely the type to send the pigs. If she was insistent enough and threw in some lies about bogus threats, they would definitely come out even without proof because that’s just what pigs do. Plus, I have had issues with the law before, vindicated or not, and I know how warped their priorities are. So family or not, all-white or not, they would come out over a lousy message long before they would for something like accusations of violence, so I have to be extra careful. I’m more concerned about Tom finding out about it than I am about getting in any kind of trouble because I know how paranoid he can be. But this way the worst she could do is send shit here that will eventually get forwarded to wherever we end up if I wait till we’re gone.

This country may not believe in freedom of speech any more than universal healthcare but speaking out to my Arizona tormentors and writing the revenge story really helped purge a lot of the anger I toted around for years, not that I wouldn’t still kick the shit out of them if they magically appeared before me. So I need to get things off my chest one final time where the termites are concerned and then I’ll move on. That was the plan with the others until they wouldn’t let me move on. But I’ve learned a lot since then and there’s no way in hell the termites aren’t going to let me move on. I’m not going to let them not let me!

I won’t be saying anything remotely illegal, so if the cops ever showed up at wherever my door was at the time, I’ll be happy to make an example of them. Freedom of speech will never exist in this country because we’ll never be allowed to threaten whoever with whatever or anything like that but we’re still supposed to have the right to express our opinions. So if that’s violated in any way, I don’t mind suing the shit out of them so we can get a nicer house.

I was going to deactivate my Facebook account for a few days after sending my final message figuring no one would miss me anyway since I’m not very active there but then Andy and I do keep in touch on Messenger. So fuck it. Let them send all the threats and rants they want from bogus accounts. I don’t have to read them. I just hope they don’t ever become real stalkers and realize that a paid search will tell them things that are definitely none of their business.

Doubt I’ll message Gerry about the dog, though. I really don’t hear it that often, it’s not left outside, and if it has anything to do with her having health issues lately, then that would be mean.

Since it had been a while, I looked at Doc O's two profiles. One of them had about 6 friends and the other had about 13 last time I checked. This time they both have 5. Her daughter Beth isn’t on any of her friend lists. So where did she and the half a dozen or so others go and why? Doc O never struck me as the type to be easy to get along with so it doesn’t surprise me all that much.

TUESDAY, APRIL 27, 2021 Went to Goodwill yesterday. They had a few big blue bins set up for people to sort their donations. I was a little surprised that they make people do it themselves. After all, they’re getting free stuff to make money off of so you would think they would at least sort their own donations. I didn’t mind, though. If anything, I got good exercise zipping back and forth across the parking lot to bring stuff from the car. Their bins are marked glass, hard, soft and things like that. Plus, there was a bin for shoes.

A lady was hanging around there that took some of the stuff off our hands. We had these folding canvas totes we used back in the day before we ever thought we would have groceries delivered to our house regularly and she was delighted to receive those. We’ve kept a few grocery bags for when we run out to stores that don’t deliver but that’s about it.

We’ll be making another run today unless we get an offer from one of the three companies he filled out and submitted forms to. There’s one more company but he’s going to save them for if we have no luck with these three and he wants to change tactics. A couple of them asked detailed questions like what we wanted for the house and he said 70K. Some even have a dropdown list of various parks in the area and Lakeview Village was one of them so they’re going to know that this is a high-end park and the place isn’t falling down or anything like that. One even asked why we were moving. They promised to get back to us within 24 hours, so I don’t know if they’re going to request pictures next or if someone’s going to come to the house.

I just really hope one of them will find our offer reasonable and not insist on some ridiculous amount like 40K. It would just be so much easier on both of us if we could go through them and not a traditional realtor where we would have multiple showings of the house to deal with and it could take God only knows how many months. With these people, we could leave what we didn’t want behind and would know exactly when we were leaving which would make it less likely that we would have to go to a hotel first.

The tentative plan is to make a second Goodwill run today since we couldn’t fit everything in the car yesterday.

I looked to see if next door was up for sale because I could have sworn I saw one of those lock boxes on the door handle that realtors use but couldn’t find it listed anywhere. I did find that the place is said to be 1400 square feet and ours 1550 but that’s incorrect. Our place is actually about 1345. It’s still plenty of room for us although I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if we ended up in a place under 1000 square feet since Florida seems to have a lot of tiny manufactured homes.

My feet actually started to get a bit sore due to all the running around so I placed them on the back massager which was sitting on the floor and wow! I would have loved this thing when I was dancing.

MONDAY, APRIL 26, 2021 Facebook temporarily locked my account a couple of days ago, and yesterday they complained that two of my journal posts in my newest group which was private and initially for my eyes only went against their community “guidelines.” So I killed that group and managed to kill the first one that Tammy the termite was a member of as well. I’m not going to play their fucking games. They make groups, pages, and creating photo albums a real bitch that’s just not worth dealing with.

I’ve got a sad update regarding Steve. Around the time I tried to contact him but couldn’t get through the rude bitch that answered, I sent a message to another guy with the same last name. This morning I awoke to find a message from a Mark H saying that Steve was his brother and he passed away on March 12th, 2020.

Ugh, that is so sad! :( He didn’t say why but I wonder if it was covid. He was 64 at the time. I told Mark I was so sorry to hear about Steve’s passing and asked how he died. The message was read but not responded to.

I let Jessie know.

There was a time I wished I could have a looks-don’t-matter attitude and only focus on personality when seeking sex or relationships but now I’m glad that I could never do that! Steve certainly wasn’t ugly but I had not an ounce of attraction for him physically as much as I adored the person he was. I’m glad because if I didn’t care about looks, I probably would have married him, maybe had a child I might have regretted (assuming the sex was normal and the DES fucked me up as much as I think it has), and then become a widow in my 50s.

Yesterday we finished up with the windows and cleaned the oven which stunk like hell even with the doors open.

As Aly learns more about what’s really going on with her, I can totally see why she’s suing the doctor who misdiagnosed her. There’s no excuse for such a huge misdiagnosis! It may take years but I really hope she sues the shit out of the bitch and gets rich! It can’t undo the damage that’s already been done but why not help herself to a more secure future and protect others from a similar situation?

The breathing issues and water retention are caused by the tumor but she told me she doesn’t really have Crohn’s after all, and that’s just something the doctor lied about. I wonder what caused the bowel perforation and the need for a stoma then.

A tumor would cause the weight loss and water retention she’s had. That’s why we could rule out tumors on my adrenals from causing the stabbers because I wasn’t losing weight. My weight is as faithful and loyal as Tom is, and I can gain weight as easily as I can make Andy laugh.

SUNDAY, APRIL 25, 2021 The turkeys just started gobbling so I guess that means it’s now the crack of dawn. Did a 15-minute walk on the treadmill while I watched part of an episode of the 22nd season of Law & Order SVU on the laptop.

Yesterday we made serious progress with finishing up the last of the major preparation work. Most of what’s left is just cleaning the place. As he said, we only get one shot when this particular company comes out so we really want to make sure we get the place as presentable as possible.

He touched up the painting in the laundry room and replaced the dryer hose, as I mentioned before, and then yesterday we pulled the inner windows out of the master bedroom. Now there are just the old windows we started with. Adding the new windows did little to nothing to prevent loud vehicles from waking me up anyway so I can live with it for the rest of the time we’re here. On the bright side, it makes it easier to get fresh air in here when I want and it’s easier to block light because now the window doesn’t extend into the room beyond the sill. We ordered rounded rods for the blackout drapes which will do an even better job of blocking light, plus there are still blackout shades underneath.

Anyway, it was a really big job. First he had to take out all the screws and nails and then take a razor to gouge out the silicone seal. Then he had to sand around the edges and touch up the paint as well. Today we’re going to add the trim that goes around it. Tomorrow is when we'll probably bring in some Goodwill stuff.

We’re having a cold spell right now. It’s only going to be in the 50s today and I guess it’s going to rain. I thought I would wake up to the sound of wind and rain but I can’t hear anything out there other than one plane a few hours ago and now the turkeys.

SATURDAY, APRIL 24, 2021 Narrowly escaped a need for eye drops! My OH is still just under the mid-20s (it shouldn’t be over 21). If it climbs just a little more, they’ll have to start me on drops to relieve the pressure to prevent glaucoma and do who knows what else to me? She said there’s no way to know for sure if they’re going to get worse or not. I still have good peripheral vision and my optic nerve is healthy. That’s what’s most important.

So after grabbing a few things before leaving Sam’s Club, we dropped Andy’s envelope in a mailbox and headed home. Then we order three pairs of glasses for me from Zenni. Purple glasses for reading/drilling, floral glasses for working, and pink progressive glasses for going out in public. They came to $158. I’m also getting a free blue light because I got a blue light blocker for the pair I’ll use for the computer. I guess it’s so that you can see how well it works.

The progressives will be tinted.

Tom found that the dryer’s hose was never properly clamped to the hose leading underneath the house. I’m surprised we didn’t have a million bugs of all kinds constantly in that room. Anyway, he got a new hose for it that is secure.

Could have sworn I heard someone sawing yesterday but it didn’t seem loud enough to be coming from Dahl’s place. That shit’s so common around here, though, that it could have come from anywhere.

I feel so bad for Aly because not only has she had cancer yet again and has to go through chemo again even if it’s a slightly different kind, but now she also has a stomach stoma for the rest of her life to have to live with. From what I read, it’s common with Crohn’s. Crohn’s is what damaged her colon and why she’ll always have the stoma. She needs colostomy bags that will have to be changed several times a day. I can’t swear to this and I’m certainly not going to come out and ask her but I guess she’ll never poop again from her butt but out through this bag instead, and I guess it’s not as firm as what comes out of our asses. I guess it’s more like a liquid. I’ve seen pictures of people with stomach stomas and it’s kind of gross. Looks like someone cut the end of an uncooked sausage off and stuck it to their stomachs. It’s toward the side of the stomach below the belly button. I guess that’s where the colon ends and they lift it toward the surface of the skin. Or just above it. What a shitty thing to have to live with for the rest of your life, especially when you’ve got another 45 years or so left to live.

I also worry and wonder about what she’s going to do for work since she’s a little too old for any kind of a real career in teaching. I guess she’ll just have to take whatever she can get for the most part.

Getting a bidet has spoiled me and I hate the thought of having to do without one for a while, especially for shitting. The portable one is good for peeing but not much good for shitting. That’s when it hit me that I oughta lose a couple of pounds and then let myself be stuck a lot. I still say it’s my body rebelling against weight loss and not that I’m low on fiber. My diet always includes fiber. Besides, it can’t be a coincidence that it always does it as soon as 2 pounds come off. But this would be a good thing to take advantage of until we get the bidet hooked up. The weight will eventually reset itself and I’ll start going again but then I’ll just keep going with the 1100-1300 calories and keep getting stuck every time I lose those two pounds.

FRIDAY, APRIL 23, 2021 Beginning this entry while I’m on the treadmill. That means I’m using my old MacBook Air. I forget just how old and slow this thing is getting until I actually use it. Going to have to use it when we move until we get our stuff shipped to us. I suppose that could be anywhere from two weeks to two months.

The shitty news is that he did some research on donations and stuff like that, and places like Goodwill aren’t picking up furniture these days. So we may have to leave it here and hope it doesn’t cause any problems with us getting our money for the house. I guess maybe we’ll see if we can sell it partially furnished.

Going for my eye exam later at Sam’s Club. We haven’t been there in ages so we’re looking forward to picking up some things that we haven’t gotten from there in quite some time that are exclusive to Sam’s Club. Love their fried rice with chicken and edamame. I look forward to getting out since it’s been a few days and I’m definitely due for it. It’s been more than a few days that I was out for more than just a quick run to Rite Aid.

The fucking water was off yesterday and now the bathroom sink and tub are so clogged with dirt that I can barely get water out of the sink and the tub sprays in a wide circle. So he’ll have to take care of that later. When I got up I saw he was soaking the shower massage head in vinegar. I can’t wait to get away from this fucking bullshit! Also, traffic was louder and more frequent yesterday and that was annoying as fuck as well. Today will be loud cuz it’s trash day.

When we get to wherever we end up, there’s going to be those two voices in my head arguing with each other. There’s going to be the smart voice that will say, “Just stay put. Your perfect little dream home doesn’t exist anyway.”

Then the adventurous, rebellious voice is going to tell me, “Go ahead and set a goal to aim for. Reach for that bigger, better place that you can hope is quieter but that won’t be but will at least be a little newer, nicer, and bigger.”

Can’t stop the Internet from eventually broadcasting our new address to the world but I’m definitely not going to give it to Aly unless she ever gives me hers and at this point, I’m starting to doubt she ever will. No pictures of Cam, the doctor that I can’t find, the address I never get - I don’t know, something’s going on but it still seems hard to believe that she’s making him up because guys are so easy. Even the fattest ugliest woman could get one. Convicted murderers can get guys!

I’m sure she’ll find out our address through her paid search subscription. Can’t stop her from doing that but I’m not going to voluntarily give it to her unless she either gives me hers or is planning a trip through Florida because it just doesn’t feel right. I mean how fair is that? She insists it’s not due to lack of trust but that she worries she’s going to “fuck things up again” but I’m not buying it after all this time. If she’s not sure of her relationship with Cam by now, when will she ever be? She’s told me of things they’ve discussed or that she’s felt that tell her he’s the one yet I never get her address. I don’t know, maybe it’s him that’s hiding something and has made her swear not to share it or his pic. He wouldn’t share one on Ask, assuming that was really him and not a fake account she created. And you never know. If Kim liked role-playing, why not her too? A lot of people are into that kind of thing. Only difference is that she would be a lot smarter about it and more convincing. Personally, I do think Cam is real but I don’t think the address is a simple lack of confidence in the relationship lasting. There’s something more to it I don’t know about.

So Aly has stage 2 cancer and if I read things correctly, she has a 70% chance of being alive 5 years from now on. It would be only 17% if she had stage 4. She began chemo and will have that once a week.

The only dream I had that I remember clearly enough to write about was that I was about to have what was left of my ear removed only I wasn’t in the hospital. I was at some office and from where I sat in the supposed exam room, I could see a list of the day’s patients. Mine was towards the end of the list and didn’t include my last name.

THURSDAY, APRIL 22, 2021 Finished Andy’s desert painting! I absolutely love my new light pad which really helps a lot but the waxless drills kind of suck. The point broke off one of them and it’s hard to wiggle the diamonds into place with them. On the other end is a regular drill only it’s skinnier than normal so there isn’t much I can do with that either.

Hopefully, we can mail Andy’s off on our way to drop things off at Goodwill. One of Wal-Mart’s free samples was a greeting card, and I used that to write him a note about it and what size frame to get and all that.

I will eventually do the “mystery” wolf for Eileen and mail it in the box it came in since it can be folded as long as it’s not tightly, and I’ll eventually do a small one for Kim (probably a cat) that I’ll mail in a large bubble envelope like the one I’m mailing Andy’s in.

In reading the entry of a woman, she was talking about how a former coworker had to kick out his mentally ill son that was threatening to kill him in his sleep (didn’t Molly once do that shit?) and that he refused to get help. Then he went to jail for trying to break back into the apartment and trying to hit a police officer. She said that when he gets out of jail he’ll be homeless and wonders how many homeless people are mentally ill that refuse treatment. And also, how can you help someone that won’t take their medication?

It’s very sad and disturbing as she said and I’m also wondering when the hell people are going to do something about the mentally ill. I think way too many of them pose a threat to us and it isn’t just about their constant and intense mood swings, constant lies, paranoia, and false accusations but the fact that many are dangerous, especially the ones that hear voices. Take that crazy bitch from Carl’s Jr. we encountered one time. She could have easily snuck up behind Tom and clubbed him over the head before I could warn him or jump up and tackle her myself.

Then one time there was this huge guy screaming at absolutely no one and nothing in the middle of a parking lot somewhere. He was angry as fuck and spewing a bunch of threats and swears. Had the wrong person walked by at the time, he could have easily turned on them and hurt them.

So again, when is anyone gonna do something about them and get them away from the rest of us? Many of them shouldn’t be living amongst us any more than dangerous criminals should be. I don’t think it makes it OK to force others to have to deal with them just because they can’t help being the way they are. That’s no excuse to put society at risk! Let them hear their voices and refuse treatment somewhere with those who are like them but away from the rest of us. I realize that not all of them are dangerous and are little more than just a pain in the ass to deal with but there are way too many that shouldn’t be allowed in the general population any more than rapists should be.

I think that more than wanting to know when and how I’m going to die, I would like to know if there’s an afterlife of any kind even though no one can ever really know this. But if I had a choice, that would be what I would want to know. Why? Well, because it’s not going to take me forever to die but if there is an afterlife then that’s forever, right? I would love to know if I’m going to float around in some magical, beautiful kingdom. Or would I burn in hell for some sin I supposedly committed on earth? Would I be reincarnated as another human or animal even if this makes no sense since it wouldn’t literally be me as so much of who we are is based on our memories and experiences? Or is it possible that there would be absolutely nothing which is what I prefer most?

I would definitely like to know what I may or may not be in for for an eternity because if it was nothing at all or something good, and maybe I wouldn’t fear death as much. But if I knew I was going to rot in hell or be reincarnated as a sex slave or something like that, then I guess that’s all the more I would enjoy every minute of this life I could and do more to live longer and delay the inevitable. I know it sounds funny but for some reason, I’m more curious about what may happen after I die than when and how I’m going to go belly up.

I’m still keeping calm but I just can’t see myself making it to May before the anxiety returns. The longest I’ve ever gone was something like 11 weeks but that’s very rare. If I get any more than a week or two off, it usually isn’t much more than 4-6 weeks, and I’m coming up on 3 weeks.

If the anxiety continues to come and go once I’m a couple of years into menopause, then what? That will be the big question of the century. Really, what then? Well, I suppose that if I was continuing to have these intermittent spells I could then safely say that it was either the medication or being low on thyroid, neither of which makes sense anymore. If it’s the medication or my being low on thyroid, then shouldn’t I be anxious every single day? I was low on thyroid for years before I was diagnosed and I never had anxiety then, but fortunately, the hormone fluctuations that come with entering menopause do make the most sense at the moment.

Just junk dreams this time around. Trying to avoid getting sprayed by a skunk, getting it on with a female detective in which neither of us got off, and then having to see Scott again even though I wasn’t in jail or in any trouble. At least I didn’t seem to be.

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 21, 2021 I’m glad Derek Chauvin was found guilty. I never believed the pig intentionally tried to kill the thug, but it was still murder. I think the jury knew they had to convict either way if they didn’t want the riot from hell on their hands which is exactly what would have occurred.

No one wants to believe this, of course, but had both parties been white, it never would have made the news and the pig never would have stepped foot in a courtroom either. If you’re white, Jewish, or gay, no one gives a shit about you.

Meanwhile, the pigs will never change. They’ll keep killing whites, blacks, and everything in between, but we’ll only hear about the blacks because that’s what the media chooses to focus on and all the general population cares about and is willing to show support for.

Anyway, I’m more grateful that my face is still intact than anything else at the moment! We went to Rite Aid yesterday where I decided to try a bottle of Barefoot’s bubbly Pink Moscato champagne. I set it down on the kitchen counter when we got back and untwisted this metal enforcer that was securing the cork. I dropped the thing on the floor and as I went to pick it up, I heard what sounded like a gunshot! I then stood straight up and found that the cork had been blown right out of the bottle and straight up into the ceiling, smashing one of the plastic panels in the drop-down ceiling. I could see the shadow of the cork rocking back and forth in the center of what was left of the panel.

As much as I’ve always hated the drop-down ceiling, I was kind of grateful for it since it may have damaged the ceiling had it not been there to strike first. The panels are easier to replace than fixing the ceiling would be.

But what I’m definitely most grateful for is the fact that the damn thing didn’t hit me had I been standing over it at the time! It could have easily taken out an eye, broken my nose, or shattered my teeth. Maybe even killed me if it hit just the right spot. So I am grateful as hell right now! I don’t know if anything was looking out for me or if I just got plain lucky but damn am I grateful.

I’m already not doing a great job with getting stricter when it comes to eating less and moving more. I’m doing better but not perfect because hey, I like to live! I need my treats every few days or so and I do have a slow metabolism and am older so I’m likely to keep gaining for the rest of my life anyway, so I’ll just live with it since I’m gonna die someday just the same and don’t want to deal with hunger or deprivation of variety forever. I want to live and enjoy things and if turning into a giant means that’s the price I eventually have to pay for it, so be it. Hell, even skinny people who are more active than me sometimes become diabetic, and just because I’m fat doesn’t mean I will. But since I can only lose a few pounds anyway and I don’t mind myself as I am, why try to change anything? Why not just keep being active most days, eating healthy most days, and leaving the rest to fate?

So yesterday we shared a bag of Cheetos and with Walmart’s delivery this morning I’ll be getting a candy bar. 80% of what I eat is still good stuff so I’m entitled to live a little.

I’m also getting my light pad and waxless drills today so I’m looking forward to that as well!

The moving dreams have begun! I’m hoping that’s a sign that it’s getting close because that’s how it usually works with those prone to dream premonitions is that the closer you get, the more likely you are to dream about an upcoming event, even if it doesn’t happen exactly as in the dreams. But I usually get some meaningful signs before moves.

In the dream, we just moved into our new house, although I don’t know where it was, how old, or how big. I fell asleep in a large room that looked similar in size to my bedroom but I don’t think that was the bedroom. I think it was the living room and that we just didn’t have my bedroom set up. At one point during my sleep, I opened my eyes and found Tom had set up a few shelves. Then when I got up for good, I found he decided to stagger them instead. I have no idea how the hell I slept through that, lol. There was also a white plastic hole in the top part of the wall that I knew was some kind of smoke detector.

I got up and he was up sitting at his computer in the adjacent room. I walked down the hall toward the living room and kitchen that was set up sort of similar to this place. We had one rat and I was asking where he was after pulling a chain to a light in the living room. Unable to find him even though Tom told me he was there, I went into the kitchen.

My brain was all fucked up because I couldn’t think of the proper commands for Alexa. So I simply told her, “Alexa, do my medication.”

Then I said something about how I couldn’t wait to get a mural even though it would probably take us forever to get it.

TUESDAY, APRIL 20, 2021 I hope the fact that I had two visits from a Connecticut business was just a coincidence and not connected to Lisa, who didn’t post any kind of response to my “comment.” It probably was, though, because one came from Comcast Business in New Haven and another came from some educational place in Granby and they’re not near each other. They both used Windows 10 but different versions of it. I would be really, really surprised if any of the termites had my PB profile link because they’re just not smart enough to remember or find it.

Anyway, I’m really worried about Aly even though my gut instinct says she’ll pull through. The latest is a perforated bowel that she had to have surgery on yesterday. I haven’t heard from her yet so I’m guessing she’s still pretty out of it. But damn! It’s just one thing after another with the poor girl.

The black cohosh tablets don’t seem to be helping with hot flashes but I’m not surprised. I’ve learned that with me, if I get something, I get it because something wants me to suffer from it. Not to be able to treat it or fix it. I just dread the inevitable return of that God-awful anxiety!

My ear or TMJ or whatever the fuck it is has been bothering me lately. I prefer pain over anxiety but it would be nice if I could get a break even if I don’t need it nearly as much as Aly does.

Blitz has now been at the SPCA for a month, and nothing’s happened next door. Makes me wonder if they’re duking it out in probate court or something even though the family doesn’t seem like the fighting kind.

Looking forward to the light pad I’m getting today. It should definitely help me be able to see the harder-to-read numbers, letters, and symbols when doing diamond paintings. The one I’m doing for Andy is especially hard to read because some of the symbols look similar and others are obscure.

I’m also going to try a set of clay-free drills. The tips are made of wax so you don’t need to add any of the waxy gel clay.

I had a dream that everyone was younger except for me. I don’t know if I knew Tom or just hadn’t seen him in a while but I was living with my parents of all people who were in their 60s. My father was still working but when he died of a sudden heart attack, my mother showed me a stack of overdue bills and I knew there was a serious risk of losing the house.

I also knew they had an unloaded gun that they kept in the house and I suggested that she loaded for protection even though the real reason I wanted her to put bullets in it was to kill myself so I wouldn’t have to be homeless.

I was sending an email to Aly while my mother slept in her room saying that it was too bad she couldn’t move in with us because then we could all pool our money.

I stepped out of my bedroom which was next to Mom’s and eyed her closed door sadly, wishing she was up so we could chat. When she did get up later, I asked her if we could afford an apartment and she said, “Easily.”

I said, “Well, I’m not noisy anymore because I don’t blast music anymore, and I’ll just deal with other people’s noise if you want to move to one.”

Without answering, she went back to her room and I began taking pictures of the place. It was modern, attractively decorated, and I thought it would be nice to have pictures to remember the place in case we did lose it. At the opposite end of the house from our bedrooms, was a room with a double bed and a small child’s bed beyond it. I knew that was where Tammy and Lisa stayed for a while when Lisa was still a toddler.

In real life, Daddy dearest’s urn is now buried between the bedroom and next door’s garage.

SUNDAY, APRIL 18, 2021 Looks like I might have found Lisa. I couldn’t find her on Pinterest, and Instagram allows for such limited words in messages for when I eventually share a piece of my mind with her and her sick mother and sisters. I didn’t want to message her on Skype and put the idea in her mind to look for Tom there to complain to.

Instead, I found an easier way to get in touch with her anonymously that she’s more likely to see, assuming it’s really her who’s working at this massage and beauty center in Groton, Connecticut. At first, I didn’t think it was her but then I studied the picture closer and I think it is. Besides, how many Lisa Gs could there possibly be in Groton, Connecticut? Anyway, it appears she’s now a licensed esthetician. She does beauty treatments and gives massages. Spa-type stuff.

The only thing I was a little skeptical about in her bio was the part where she mentioned her grandmother being a role model to her and telling her when she was young that she should get up and put on her makeup and do her hair no matter what because when you look good, you feel good.

But what grandmother would that be? As far as I knew, the girls didn’t get along with Bill’s mother any more than mine. My mother did favor her out of the three of them and she was appearance-obsessed but that doesn’t seem like any advice she would give her. So if it’s Lisa, she’s not talking about my mother. I just never would have thought Bill’s mother would be considered a role model to anyone due to the way I always heard that she was such a bitch. The termite said that in some ways she was worse than our mother. That’s pretty damn bad!

The only other thing I thought was weird was that she trained in Boston. Why would she go all the way to Boston for training?

As a test, in the comments section, I asked if she had sisters named Becky and Sarah because I went to school with them. Of course I provided a bogus email. It will be interesting to see if it gets a response in her comments section. It’s one of those things that doesn’t show up immediately but is awaiting moderation.

Her or not, and I’m thinking it is, I will share a piece of my mind with her as well when we leave. The thing is I can’t re-block her crazy sisters and mother for 72 hours after I unblock them so I just have to hope to hell that during those three days of all days, they don’t go looking for me. The plan is to unblock them three days before I contact them, make the contact, and then immediately re-block them. After I do that, I’ll probably deactivate for a few days.

Got up to 90 degrees here today.

What is it with this fucking 3:00 AM commercial plane lately? Every night at 3:00 AM like clockwork it’s been flying over. Very loudly too. It’s well over a minute before the sound fades out completely.

Anyway, no nighttime walking for me anymore! With the weather warming up, the skunks are more active than ever. Had quite a scare when we both went out earlier. It wasn’t even 9:00 yet when we were walking down Astro. As we were walking behind Bob and Virginia’s place, I looked at the wall of their place and thought I was seeing the shadow of my head following me. But then that shadow appeared to move in the opposite direction and I could see the white stripe. So I turned and ran the other way.

Fucking bastards are everywhere now! I can smell them in here at night at times. Again, never lived anyplace like this before. Never before were there so many skunks, planes, projects, loud traffic, excessive landscaping, etc.

Started the black cohosh tablets. I don’t know if it’s going to do anything to prevent hot flashes or anxiety but I’ll find out soon enough. I confirmed with Kim that she takes one tablet in the morning and one at night. Sometimes she may accidentally take three if she’s not sure if she remembered to take it earlier but doesn’t worry about it because it’s a low dose.

My weight is once again pushing upward as I’ve been eating horribly lately. Too much processed food and sugary treats. If I don’t put my foot down I’ll just keep steadily climbing all my life with my thyroid being the way it is, and I’m not ready to gain indefinitely until he’s around 80. Then I’ll know I won’t have much time to have to deal with it. I still don’t give a shit about my appearance but I don’t see the “beauty” in obesity and why it’s more celebrated and praised these days when it poses such health risks. While I don’t agree with fat-shaming, there’s nothing healthy about being fat and it certainly doesn’t help one’s range of mobility either. I hate to say this and it may sound gross but honestly, I don’t see how the hell the termites can wipe their own asses. Whether you find big people attractive or not, it doesn’t do the least bit of good for the cholesterol and blood pressure or much of anything else.

I can only lose a few pounds but I can also stop from gaining, so back to three meals a day I go that are about 400 calories each with no snacks in between or wine or anything like that. I’ve also been slacking off on exercising which is part of the problem too, so I’m ramping that back up. I’m jogging at 4 MPH on the treadmill for one minute every hour until I get too tired to do it, so I’ll get about 13 minutes of that today, plus my 15-minute vibration session. The 13 minutes of jogging will be similar to half an hour of walking. Eventually, I’ll do 2 minutes an hour.

I accidentally found an article that said Cheerios has been clinically proven to lower cholesterol. Decided that would make a good first meal. Even the box of Cheerios pictured on Walmart says it reduces cholesterol so we’ll see.

My second meal will be beans or chickpeas with fruit, and my third meal will be meat and veggies. This way, I’m only having meat with one meal and not getting as much cholesterol although I’ll occasionally throw in some eggs.

The mystery diamond painting I got today still isn’t much of a mystery if you can hold it up to the light and just make out the image. It’s a wolf. Wolves are just OK so maybe I’ll do this one for Eileen. We hardly talk but she’s made me stuff in the past and I think it would be something she’d like.

Andy’s desert painting is almost done. We’ve been getting along better than ever and I hope it stays that way! I’ve always looked up to him and seen him as a big brother of sorts. It was funny how he was telling me I’ve always been a loyal and honest friend.

I don’t know about that at times. Most of the time, yes. I try to be as loyal and honest as possible. But I did dump him twice for a total of 15 years, and I wasn’t always completely honest about some things but I have made a point of improving on these issues and I have.

Dad will be sent to his forever home at sunup. We’re going to bury the urn at the crack of dawn when we can hopefully do it without getting barked at and no one will be out and about yet to see what we’re doing. We’ll just have to listen to the planes. Imagine what the park would think if they knew human remains were buried here! LOL, I wonder if someone will dig it up in 100 years or so like if they bulldoze out all these houses, which will be old as hell then, to build a shopping mall or apartment complex or something like that. At least it shouldn’t be dug up while we’re still alive, not that we’re doing anything wrong.

My schedule is “half a roll” away from reaching out to the realtors! Getting exciting! Around the time I have my eye exam next Friday is when he’ll make contact. Still expecting a joke of an offer from the manufactured home buyers and to have to go through a traditional realtor, though. I just hope to hell it doesn’t take forever!

Apparently, not all land in Florida is flat. There’s a town called Brooksville we were looking at homes in and it’s surprisingly hilly. It’s south of Homosassa.

SATURDAY, APRIL 17, 2021 My guess was right on! He guessed my TSH would be an 11 and I guessed it would be a 12. Well, it’s a 12. My fault due to the 2 skips I made a month ago. But I’ve definitely been a lot worse than 12, so while 12 isn’t great, it’s not horrible either. I’m sure it will be in the single digits soon enough.

Slightly high on lymphocytes but nothing even remotely worrisome, but as expected, my cholesterol sucks. I read around on life expectancy without statins and there really doesn’t seem to be any significant evidence suggesting I won’t live a normal lifespan or at least close enough to it, so I’m not worried about not taking statins, something some people believe are overrated anyway. One doesn’t have much choice in the first place if one can’t handle the side effects. If I had 50 more years to live then maybe I’d be a little concerned but at 55, I think I’ve lived long enough, lol. Besides, I think it would take another 15-20 years before a lack of treatment did anything to me if it did. Meanwhile, I’ve already decided that whenever my time is up, I’m OK with that. I’m not gonna do anything that makes me feel worse than the original problem. Besides, you don’t “feel” high cholesterol. Not unless it does result in any serious trouble. So because I’m incredibly prone to side effects I’m going to go by my “no symptoms, no treatment” rule.

My glucose was down 10 points to 100.

The biggest thing I do dread feeling is the inevitable return of anxiety. I’m still doing OK but I know it’s only a temporary reprieve as always. When it returns I just have to remind myself that I really will slowly get used to it over the years if it is a life sentence, and it will just make the better days more appreciated. I’ll also have to remind myself that I wasn’t stuck in the last anxiety spell I had even though it was just about the longest one I ever had and I felt like I was permanently stuck in an anxious state forever. I have to keep in mind that I can still have good days, and I do.

For now, I’m still drinking black cohosh tea which I’m getting low on. They’re out of stock of the kinds I want on Amazon so I’m going to try the 40-milligram tablets Kim takes.

While I was ordering the tablets, I ordered a mystery diamond painting. A real mystery where the canvas is completely blank and you have to complete it to know what it is.

They extubated Aly but she may need it again. Chemo hasn’t started yet either. Right now she’s worried about getting enough sleep, saying the night nurse isn’t very kind or understanding. That doesn’t surprise me. There are so many crabby nurses and doctors that I often wonder why the hell they ever got in the healthcare field to begin with if they don’t give a shit and they’re going to treat patients like they’re just another burden to have to deal with when there are other ways to get a decent enough paycheck that doesn’t involve having to deal with people as much.

I started cleaning out the refrigerator and the only thing left to clean is the small drawer and the freezer. I thought it would be better to do it a little bit at a time so I don’t let out so much cold air.

I added some pink glitter to the last glitter topcoat I got. I definitely have a glittery sink now! It wasn’t too hard to pour into the bottle using one of the diamond trays but some spilled over.

I’m thinking my best bet with the neon shakers is to dip something like a toothpick in the glitter and then gently tap it and sprinkle it onto the nail. I think that if I pour directly from the shaker I’m going to get too much. I’ll find out soon enough!

Incredibly I slept through the garbage truck, the green waste truck, and the bulk pickup truck. I really cranked up the sound machines and threw in one of those foam earplugs into my good ear as well.

The two bonded female guinea pigs didn’t last long at the SPCA. They, along with more rabbits, have been adopted.

Earlier…

What surprises me are all the errors I’m still finding in my journals. They may be minor but they’re there, nonetheless. How the hell did Grammarly miss these things the first time around? And to think I had some of it published at one point!

Ugh, over 3,000,000 covid deaths and that’s only the ones we know about. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was more than twice that many. Seems like such a tiny percentage of the population but then a huge number in itself.

Found both Nane and Christiane on Instagram and couldn’t resist following and messaging Nane and letting her know what a hypocrite she is, LOL. I also used her as a test to see how much text I can send in a message there. Originally I was going to send Lisa a copy of my final message there but it would be way too big for it.

As long as I can handle the climate and the storms aren’t waking me up too much, I don’t see why I wouldn’t love Florida. I’m determined to. I want to. I will!

If we could eliminate the planes, mutts, and motorcycles, that would leave me to just have to deal with landscaping and projects which would be a huge improvement but I’m still afraid to get my hopes up. I still wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if we couldn’t afford the places that didn’t allow mutts and motorcycles. The rest of the world may not be as I know it but I do still believe there is a noise curse on me and that I’m going to end up with some kind of fluke or extreme just like always. Plus there’s the fact that adult communities have changed. Drastically.

Not only do I realize the benefits of a park versus the mainstream but also the pros and cons of owning the land in the park. If we own the land, that would make our expenses cheaper which would be great but then that gives people more freedom to do whatever the fuck they want, and to hell with who it may affect. They wouldn’t have to bring their dogs indoors if they didn’t want to, and I would think it would be less likely we could get a place that was mutt and motorcycle-free in a place where we’d own the land.

Aly came to visit us in my dreams last night. We hugged each other and then I ran to grab something that was cooking in the oven.

FRIDAY, APRIL 16, 2021 We won’t know how much swimming and biking we’ll be able to do until we know exactly where we’re going but it would be cool to do a different form of exercise every day. Yoga one day, then the treadmill, then the vibration platform, biking, swimming, Bowflexing, etc.

Today we traded in barking for motorcycle engine gunning. And of course the planes and helicopters are the usual annoyance. Tom’s right. What I know isn’t what the rest of the world is. It’s only what keeps following me from place to fucking place. It’s just a question of whether or not I have two sources of annoyances or many annoyances as we do here. I swear I’m not meant to have a peaceful place to live. It’s like it simply isn’t meant to be no matter what. I still think - and hope - that we can at least do better than this since every place I’ve lived before this has been quieter. The only place not quieter was jail.

But if we can get out of the fly zone and do away with the planes and copters, then I can take my nights back. Also, if we can get away from the street, then I don’t have to worry about my sleep being disrupted by traffic. Definitely not gonna get any sleep tomorrow because the bulk pick-up people didn’t come today. I’m hoping they and the regular pick-up will come tomorrow so I can get that much over with on the same day. Then it’s just the motorcycles they have to worry about.

In Googling this address to see where else it may come up for free, I found a list of residents on the street and “Geri” is actually Gerry A. Found her on Facebook although she doesn’t appear to have posted anything in a few years. Good, though, because then I can give her a piece of my mind about her rudeness where the dog is concerned after we’re gone.

The question is when that will be. We both believe we’re not going to have any luck with the manufactured home buyers. They’re probably gonna make some joke off an offer like 40K. If that’s the case, then people are even dumber than I gave them credit for if they think anyone’s going to be OK with an amount that low.

I know we’ll be stuck having to go through a traditional realtor because things never come easy to us. We never get any breaks. We always have to take the longer, harder path, and if I’m right about something wanting me to be in noisy places, it sure as hell isn’t gonna let me out of here that easily.

Chatted with Andy a bit and got a couple of quick messages from Aly which weren’t good. They haven’t started chemo yet because they had to intubate her. I had to look up what that was too. She feels totally hated and like she just can’t get better the way she should.

I don’t blame her either! She is as cursed with health issues as I am with noise but I’m sure she would trade places with me in a heartbeat if she could. The biggest thing I dread is the return of the anxiety and I know damn well it’s gonna be back anytime now. I would rather have to have a tube shoved down my throat than be anxious and have those shitty emotions that are hard to describe.

I woke up many times but last time around it wasn’t due to traffic. I woke up to pee, just because, and I had a nightmare as well.

In the dream, I was sitting at a table in an apartment building or a hotel when I noticed my hands begin to tremble. My heart started beating funny too, and I felt myself beginning to panic. I stepped outside the room and into a hallway where I was intent on waking up Tom. But then I told myself to be brave and handle it on my own as I stumbled off and into some kind of furniture showroom that was attached to the building.

There was a group of three or four girls in their late teens to early 20s that began heckling me about whatever as I studied a double bed with a frilly quilt that had a nightstand on one side and a rocking chair with a large Victorian doll on the other. I asked if the bedroom set was for sale and then I saw a price tag of $98. LOL

I wanted to stay and face the girls and their bullying but because I felt so horrible, I just wasn’t up to it. I went back to our place and found that to shut the door, I had to hit one of a series of buttons and it would close much like an elevator door. I just couldn’t remember which button it was and began to get extremely nervous, fearing I wouldn’t get the door shut before the girls caught up to me. So I quickly hit each button on the panel until the door began to slide shut just as a light came on further down the hall signaling that the girls were catching up to me. The doors slid shut and I plopped down on the bed and let out a long breath of relief as I said, “Thank you, God.”

THURSDAY, APRIL 15, 2021 Ugh, Geri is really pissing me off with that fucking mutt of hers and she’s lucky we’re leaving, or else I would say something, and fuck worrying about retaliation. I don’t know if her other dog was quieter or if it just wasn’t left outside as much as this one. I can’t believe all the barking I’m hearing in this park lately! That one down Astro was outside unattended and barking its ass off. This one is worse because it goes on and on and on. I can’t believe the neighbors put up with that shit but this is the west. People are more accepting and tolerant of other people’s noise here. It’s just that I thought this was one of the few places, west or not, where it wasn’t supposed to be accepted or tolerated. Wasn’t that one of the reasons we came here? Really hope it isn’t that way in Florida!

I still feel both cursed and like it’s widespread. Sure, there are still some places that are quieter than others, but in general, people just don’t give a shit about others no matter where you go. Boom car stereos are common and it wouldn’t surprise me if dogs and projects were common everywhere as well. At the same time, I know it isn’t just me, I still do kind of feel like I’m noise-cursed. There’s always something no matter where I go. This place, however, has definitely been the worst. It’s unfuckingbelievably noisy here. Along with the daily soundscape, there’s always something overly annoying that stands out. First it was Bob sawing, then it was the contractor that used to live here sawing, then it was the loud car, then it was the cock across the street sawing, and now it’s barking.

I would definitely not want to move into a park where someone had a picket fence like Geri’s dog is kept in along with the one down the street. Those are definite magnets for people to say WTF and leave their dogs out unattended. But I also worry about lanais in Florida being just as annoying since sound comes in and out of those things easily which means every time someone walked by our neighbors, I would have to listen to the fucking barking. Hell, even the termite let hers bark through her lanai’s screen door at passersby. I totally want a pet-free park but won’t hold out much hope of getting into one.

Tom’s reminding me that what I know isn’t what the rest of the world is necessarily like is reassuring. :) God, I hope this is the exception and not the norm! But yeah, planes, loud vehicles, barking, road work, roaring freeways, daily landscaping, projects, water outages…this place sucks. I’m sure I’m forgetting some things too not that this isn’t enough. Really, I’ve had enough of all of it!

At least I know the planes and helicopters aren’t like this everywhere - at least not yet - because Aly and Andy would definitely say so if they were hearing the same shit.

Despite the annoyances around here, I’m pleased to say that I’m still feeling great! Of course I don’t expect it to last much longer, though. It never does. I’m also looking at being woken up twice over the next few days because of the bulk trash collection and the regular collection which doesn’t help.

Not long after putting a bunch of bulk stuff out there, it was taken. On the way to the lab, we saw a bunch of pickups out scavenging for whatever they could get, probably to sell at yard sales. An old portable AC, the dresser a coworker of his in Oregon gave us that I put pink flower transfers onto, the cage, and a bunch of other things. In fact, the pile got so small that he added some stuff he was going to give to Goodwill but figured he would put it out there instead since it wasn’t anything all that useful. An ice chest, an old computer, etc.

We had to wait about 20 minutes for me to get blood drawn since we got there 10 minutes early. The first girl that tried had no luck but the second girl managed to get the three tubes needed.

I’m sure my cholesterol will be high but hopefully, it’s not over 300. I also hope my blood sugar isn’t higher. I’m guessing my TSH is going to be about a 12.

I removed our address from another public search site. I’ll have to watch for our new one to show up when we get settled at the new place.

No Doc A marathon last night for dreams. I don’t really remember any of my dreams. I started to remember one and then forgot it. It hit me, though, that I can find out if there’s any grain of truth to the dream I had where Doc A confessed to liking me. In about a year or so after getting settled and established in Florida, I plan to say hello on Facebook. Well, if you like someone, even if you’ll never see them again, why wouldn’t you respond? Of course that all depends on whether or not she gets the message in the first place and there isn’t a much stricter rule than I ever realized as far as interacting with even former patients outside of work.

TUESDAY, APRIL 13, 2021 Rockefeller has been adopted, yay! So that took 3.5 weeks. I hope Blitz gets his own forever home soon! I can’t help but wonder who got him and where he’ll be living. Will he be in a home with adults only or will there be children as well? Will it be a house or an apartment? What kind of schedule will the people there have? I wondered about these things along with how much experience they’ve had with guinea pigs.

I feel so horrible for Aly. It not only turns out that the mass was cancerous but she needs chemo eventually as well. She also needs kidney stones removed. She’s had breathing/coughing issues as well and doesn’t know when she’ll be discharged. She still has fluid in her stomach that they remove. She feels like an idiot for believing her doctor was right in that it was all on her liver and is now paying the price for it. She will too if she goes after her which she says she likely will.

Yeah, good luck with that. I hope to hell she does but sadly, I doubt it will do any good. It’s like trying to go after a cop or a lawyer. They are seen as superior in society and as these little gods of sorts, and I think it will be hard to prove negligence. She would have to prove that the doctor purposely, recklessly, knowingly, and intentionally misdiagnosed her. Yet all the doctor has to do is say she tried her very best and really believed her diagnosis was correct. Then it will be written off as human error.

The mystery diamond painting came today only it turns out that it’s not much of a mystery after all. I thought I was getting one of the ones with a blank white canvas but nope. The only difference with this one is that they don’t tell you what it is up front and you don’t know until you receive it. You can see the image once you open the package. With the mystery painting I thought I was getting, you don’t know what it is until it’s completed. Fortunately, though, I do like the image. It’s a pretty village scene with sailboats peeking through trees in the background.

I also thought I was getting two paintings. In one part of the description, they made it sound like it was two, and in another, we weren’t sure. Amazon needs to hire editors for those who can’t fucking write.

The last set of nail strips came and I don’t think they’ll be an issue at all. Out of the first two I got, one set sucks because they’re too stiff and not sticky enough while the other is of much better quality. I have the pink roses against a white background on now, and as small as my nails are, you can still tell what it is.

The glitter topcoat I last got is too scattered so I ordered some glitter from Walmart to add to it. It’s extra fine pink glitter. I also ordered a set of 6 neon glitter shakers to sprinkle on a still wet clear thin topcoat. The idea is for it to stick to it and dry up that way, and then I’ll go over it with a thick coat of topcoat. It will reinforce the stickers and add a nice touch to the ones that are on the dull side.

Tom has been working hard on the prep work. He took apart the desk in the living room and spent all day yesterday packing up the storeroom and pulling out stuff to go out in the bulk trash collection. My schedule sucks right now because that means I’m definitely going to be woken up twice this week. Tomorrow I go to the lab so luckily they’ll be coming after that’s done.

Thought someone with a motorcycle moved in nearby because I heard it 3 fucking times yesterday. However, neither of us has heard it today.

I don’t know about the planes and daily landscaping but I still worry that the motorcycles are a life sentence that began when we moved in here. I don’t know how common petless, motorcycleless parks are in Florida but somehow I doubt they’re all that common.

Even so, we would still prefer to be in a gated park because it’s safer. If we’re out in the mainstream we’re open to even more trouble and more noise. I don’t want to add the screaming kids, boom car stereos, and dogs barking round the clock into the mix and be more at risk of a break-in.

Just like I’ve learned I’m not alone as far as menopause goes, I also don’t seem to be alone as far as being annoyed by how loud things are from motorcycles to boom car stereos. The problem is that it’s like with all the rogue cops we’ve got running around these days. People are more than happy to complain but no one’s willing to actually do anything about it.

Geri’s dog sometimes sticks its head through the picket fence and silently stares at me when I’m outside but doesn’t bark nearly as much as dogs in other places I’ve lived in. The dog down the street in the other picket fence was going off. I wonder if that one is left out there during the day. It seems to be. Geri’s is probably out more often than I realize too, just not at night.

I not only had the strangest dream about Doc A last night but I seemed to dream about her all night long. I just don’t remember all the dreams except for the one where she confessed to liking me.

SUNDAY, APRIL 11, 2021 It’s scary to see the population in the US climb by 100,000 in less than three weeks. I seriously doubt they’re all births too.

I jumped on Zenni and picked out three frames for progressives, computer, and diamond painting glasses, but thanks to my fucking schedule, I’ll have to wait until the end of the month to get an exam.

I finished the Dreamcatcher diamond painting last night and the desert painting will be here tomorrow. I also ordered a rainbow swirl diamond painting, a 2-pack of mystery diamond paintings, and a Siamese rat eating a green apple against a pink background. Why didn’t I think to look for rats earlier? LOL, hopefully I won’t have to buy any more paintings while we’re here.

Joe came to the door and picked up Aly’s package which they estimate will arrive Tuesday. No idea when she’ll be discharged, though.

Yesterday he took the shower doors outside and laid them down on that plastic worktable which was definitely a smart purchase and used the power hose, another smart purchase, to hose them off, and also the electric brush to clean them with, which was yet another smart purchase. They don’t look perfect being as old as they are, but they look a lot better and certainly decent enough for someone to move into.

Based on when we reach full immunity and my schedule will be best for it, we’re looking at reaching out to realtors at the end of the month.

We both agreed it’s better to take whatever we can get for this place, get out of here sooner, and start off in a small old “tooth” house. I’m not even going to get my hopes up or dare to dream of anything better as far as anything more modern with a nice view goes. I know better. It just wasn’t meant to be for me to have my perfect place on earth. It seems some things are in our cards and come to us easily and then there’s just the opposite.

I knew we would have to settle as we pretty much always do. I’m also not stupid enough to think anything could be that temporary. I know all he would have to do would be to get a job long enough for us to qualify for a bigger and better place but I know that if something took an average of a year or two for most people, it would be closer to half a decade for us. I think by the time we get there, I’ll be all moved out, so since I’ve known that my paradise doesn’t exist any more than a woman or a child did, I think it would be better to make the best of whatever we can get. If it’s out of a fly zone and off a busy street, it’s definitely going to be better than this, no matter what it is. The climate will be better and while I still expect to hear some barking and projects and some loud vehicles as well, I don’t expect to hear landscaping every single day. The most important thing is eliminating threats to my sleep. I don’t want to have to go to bed in the daytime wondering if loud vehicles are going to wake me up. But there’s no such thing as my perfect little paradise on earth and being in a place I absolutely love and would never want to leave. Just a place that’s warmer and a little quieter than here.

We would both prefer it if he didn’t work rather than have him go to work for a place that doesn’t exist for us. It may exist for Docs A and N, but not for us. I don’t know if this is by design or random chance but it’s just the way it is. Meanwhile, he’s happier not working because then he can do things he enjoys doing on his own terms and I definitely feel a lot safer and less lonely. His being out of the house for 12 hours a day, especially when I was at my worst, was very hard on me. His being home also makes going to appointments and things like that easier.

We talked about how it would actually be cheaper to use Uber rather than pay insurance for a car that sat doing nothing most days of the week and while that makes sense financially, I don’t know if I would like that. I would worry about the Uber making us late for appointments, and what about when there were power failures? There would certainly be more power failures there. If the power went out when it was hot and humid, we could jump in a car and throw on the AC. But not if we didn’t have one in the first place. Oh, Tom just said he’s looking at battery-operated generators. As for not replacing Candy, that’s gonna depend on how far inland we end up.

SATURDAY, APRIL 10, 2021 Aly’s recovering from surgery. I guess they took both her ovaries out and that means instant menopause, the poor girl. If she has it half as bad as I have, it’ll still be a nightmare.

Aly said she was terrified at first because she thought she was in an explosion, and that she loves me like a sister.

I ordered an 8x10 desert diamond painting to do for Andy. I had a pair of palm tree pictures against a sunset sky and was going to use one of the frames to put it in. However, the frame is glass rather than plastic and glued at the edges so I can’t replace it easily without damaging it. So I’m just going to send the diamond painting by itself and let him get a frame for it. That way all we have to do is stamp it and throw it in a regular mailbox unlike Aly’s package which the post office is taking its sweet time picking up. If they don’t get it soon, we’re going to have to bring it to the post office ourselves which will suck since we still have a week to go to reach full immunity. We’ll reach it next Saturday on Aly’s 40th birthday.

We framed the diamond painting of the dark-haired girl and it looks gorgeous. Working on the dream catcher now.

One of the two sets of nail strips I got was either old or defective. Decided Wokoto is my favorite brand so I went to their store and ordered a few small sets. They’re a mix of floral, gradient, and other designs with both glitter and glossy finishes.

Tom thinks he might have broken a bone in his foot because now his toe is sore. If he did, it should just be a tiny, microscopic piece that will settle into place somewhere.

FRIDAY, APRIL 9, 2021 Went out walking yesterday and it was nice. The kind of weather that would be a little too chilly if you were just sitting there but ideal for working out. Probably not going to go out today but will hit the vibe platform.

I just wish I knew why I always get stuck after I lose a couple of pounds! It really is like my body does everything it can to prevent additional weight loss. Found an article that confirmed that no, I’m not going crazy or imagining it. Constipation really can hinder weight loss. I remember this to be an issue going as far back as Maricopa. I wonder if my thyroid started going bad that far back. I figure it started anywhere between the early 2000s and 2010. But I certainly couldn’t stay stuck for life if I suddenly stopped eating, could I? Not that I’d want to stop eating but it definitely makes me wonder.

Yesterday I felt great emotionally. My heart got a little racy at the end of my day but that was about it. Starting off today well but who knows how I’ll feel later on. I just wonder how the hell the days have gotten so damn long! It seems like the older I get, the more hours in a day there are.

I tweeted to the SPCA asking how long they keep healthy animals before they give up trying to rehome them and they said they keep them for as long as it takes provided they remain happy and healthy.

They updated the pigs’ about me section since they’ve gotten to know them now that they’ve had some time with them, and they mentioned Rockefeller making the cutest little guinea pig sounds when he gets excited and how Blitz is shy but friendly.

Love this liquid facial foundation I got a sample of a while back. It covers the redness well and provides a more even-colored appearance but over time I’ve noticed a reduction in the redness in my face, so maybe I never really did have rosacea. It seemed like it was at its reddest during the time we lived in Auburn but now there’s just a hint of it which is nice because then I don’t need blush but also don’t look like a clown either or like I got this strange sunburn.

Also got another perfume sample that smells nice. Love getting those and facial creams and serums.

Aly’s gift will be going out today and arriving early next week though I don’t know when she’ll be released. Haven’t heard from her since yesterday’s surgery. I just hope she gets a break and can enjoy better health and happiness for a while whether or not she remains with Cam.

Last night I had a dream C was in but I don’t remember much detail other than referring to him as handsome, giving him a quick kiss, and being glad he didn’t want any more than friendship.

There was also some dream about Tom and I going to meet in a hotel that was just outside the park. He wanted me to walk there after 11:00 PM and would later meet me there. I was worried about the possibility of being jumped by more people than I could handle but then we agreed I would be OK.

THURSDAY, APRIL 8, 2021 Still can’t figure out for the life of me why my body stops shitting once I get down to 155. Just what the hell is going on that’s so important that I keep my weight? I still don’t get that one. Well, at least I don’t have to worry about what I eat since the weight is eventually going to reset itself on its own anyway. I still watch what I eat most days, but I don’t have to worry about the one or two cheat days I throw in each week. I can’t imagine ever needing to but it’s also nice to know that if I ever had to go for a while without food, I wouldn’t waste away.

Lab day is on the 14th. I’m guessing my TSH will be 12-16. The skips probably kicked me up to around 22, so I’d be starting from there and not the 34 or so I’d be unmedicated.

Tom got a new Google phone and we both got passport wallets that will be a convenient place to keep those along with credit cards, medical cards, etc. His will be black and mine will be lake blue.

We both agree that our best bet is to just take a lower offer for this place so we can get the fuck out already and then get a cheap dump when we get there so we increase our chances of getting into it with our limited income, and then we can customize it to our taste and decide if we want a set a goal to get into a nicer place or not. I’ve learned that except for when it comes to each other, life has been nothing but settling anyway. Especially when you don’t have tons of money. But even the dumpiest place there is going to be better than here!

Speaking of houses, it occurred to me last night that I never thought to Zabasearch my doctors, so I ran Doc A’s name and found that she lives in Auburn, 33 minutes away. She has a beautiful two-story home at the end of a cul de SAC. It’s a 4-bedroom, 3-bath built in 1982 and is over 2000 square feet.

Now that I see it on a satellite map and how surrounded she is by nature much like Jesse’s trailer was, it goes with her Facebook cover photo. I’m sure that was taken on her back deck. Oh how much more peaceful it must be there! She might hear some barking at least at night and maybe some distant bass thumping as we do here but from what I remember, there were no planes or helicopters. The only time we heard helicopters was when they were replacing the wires up at the summit. She’s so fucking lucky!

She’s not as old as I thought she was, either. I thought she was 46 but she’s actually 43. I don’t think she’s married like I assumed since her last name is technically (name omitted). I noticed she has relatives in Ecuador that also go by (name omitted), plus I can clearly see no ring in pictures that show her left hand. She might have a boyfriend, though, because I’ve seen her pictured with a guy with sandy-colored hair and light eyes and one of her three kids has that same coloring. She’s heavy into GLBT rights so who knows? Maybe she’s gay or she just prefers the single life.

Then I looked up my ENT who’s the exact age I thought she was (38) and 21 minutes away and OMFG! She has a 5000-square-foot mansion in Fair Oaks! It’s a 2003 home worth over a million bucks and has 5 bedrooms and 4 baths. My first thought was, who the hell needs that much space, especially just three people?! But then I realized that one or both of them might have kids from previous relationships. She married and moved in there in 2014 and it looks like Doc A moved into her place in 2012. Maybe they have separate bedrooms, one belongs to the kid I know she has, and another is a guest room while another is a playroom for all I know. It too is on a culdesac but she would definitely hear more barking because as huge as the houses are, they’re set incredibly close. She could hear a similar number of planes but probably no more bass than we hear unless one of her immediate neighbors is into that shit.

While I certainly wouldn’t want a place that was thousands of square feet, it still sometimes sucks to know that I’m never going to really truly love where I live and that we’re always going to have to settle. I’ll never get the peace and quiet I’ve always wanted. In fact, getting into a petless, motorcycle-free park is just a pipe dream. I mean, sure, they exist, but waiting to find an ideal and affordable place in one of them would probably take forever since I’m guessing they’re few and far between. So yeah, it sucks to know that the next place will likely be quieter than this but still noisier than I’d like. Also older than I’d like with boring views.

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 7, 2021 Felt great yesterday but after a night of shitty sleep and shitty dreams, I’m feeling kind of blah today.

In one dream, I had my own apartment and I guess something must have happened to Tom even though I didn’t “feel” like he died or anything because I was crying to my ENT about how I was done and it was over for me because of how hard it was going to be for me to make it on my own.

“I don’t think people realize just how hard it is for those with circadian rhythm disorder,” I said, and then she put a finger to her lips and said something to suggest it wasn’t a crisis, though I don’t remember what she said.

Then I fell back asleep after getting up to pee and was crying about the same thing in the next dream, only I was at the termite’s place and our parents were still alive. I was telling her I hadn’t paid a dime of last month’s rent and was really scared for myself.

I wanted desperately to call our parents but was having trouble getting through. When they finally called us, I wanted to blurt it all out but all I could do was sob and tell them I missed them.

Got to my appointment a few minutes early and waited in the car. Being the first patient of the day, we saw Doc A drive in at 7:30. She drives this ugly navy-colored thing.

Doc A confirmed that no, nothing in my brain broke that’s causing my negative emotions otherwise there would be other symptoms. Found another site called Gennev that also confirms that the negative emotions, including depression and anxiety, can extend into the phase of menopause I’m in.

It’s true that when I think about it, there isn’t anything else physiologically wrong with me that should be causing it other than hormonal changes. They do chemistry/hormone panels at least once a year and I don’t have any other issues or diseases that could cause depression and anxiety. Yet even though my logic tells me exactly what it is and that it can’t go on forever, I still worry it will. Because I can never know for sure what will happen and when it makes it harder on me. But if I knew it would taper off around such and such a time, I think that would help at least to a degree. Since there’s no magic pill I can take, I just have to utilize other tools like tapping, the tea, and getting out as often as I can. The nights I used to love are now something I totally dread.

For the longest time, I said that if the me of my 20s could read many of my future journals from my 30s and 40s, I would be amazed, delighted, and surprised by much of what I read. But if the present-day me could read entries from the next 5 to 10 years I would honestly be afraid to! I’m just afraid I would cringe at what I might read.

I told Doc A about the side effects I had from the statins and the bupropion and that I can’t get into the lab until next week. She said to let her know when we’re actually moving so she can give me a few months of medication to hold me over until I can get a new doctor.

I showed her the red spot on my leg and she isn’t sure what it is. She says that if it ever bothers me or I ever want to find out, I can go to a dermatologist for a biopsy. Fortunately, it doesn’t itch and it hasn’t changed color or size in quite a while.

Loud vehicles, including motorcycles, are getting bad again. We’re looking at about a week or two before we contact the Sundae-like people. I can’t fucking wait!

We went online so I could submit my excuse for wanting to get out of jury duty and that’s that it would take an hour and 40 minutes via public transportation each way. Fortunately, this is true since I don’t think they’ll accept my simply not being interested.

TUESDAY, APRIL 6, 2021 The pigs now have competition because there are two new pigs listed and they’re only a year old. I’m just glad they’re in good hands right now. I do miss them, but I know they’re better off where they are.

Tom’s foot is still healing so he’s been taking it easy, but I gave the stove a serious cleaning yesterday and will be tackling more of the refrigerator next. I really let it go for a while. I guess when you don’t give a shit about a place, you tend to do that. Still have to take the pumice and scrape the rings off the toilets as well. He’s going to steam the oven and these old shower stalls.

I just worry that we won’t be able to get a decent enough offer.

It’s looking more likely that we will fly out of here as opposed to driving but we’ll probably have to settle for Coach which would suck. Coach is always full of screaming kids. Even more so when it’s during prime travel time. I still don’t understand why airlines don’t do more to crack down on unruly kids or why the parents would even want to fly with them in the first place until they’re older. But better to scream cross country than drive it because it would be so hard on both of us. Plus, I’ll take my noise-canceling headphones. I don’t know how much good they’ll do me, but they would be better than nothing. Especially since the engines are going to be louder in Coach. As loud as planes are, though, it’s never enough to drown out the fucking brats, and if one is kicking my seat…

Excited for my two new sets of nail polish strips by Maitys that will be here tomorrow! One has solid colors and the other is a mix of solids and gradients.

Last night I dreamed we lived in a house that looks nothing like this and might have had two stories. Aly lived with us and they were both at work and it was nighttime. I realized I no longer liked being alone and even felt a bit nervous, especially when I opened the bathroom or bedroom door to find these strange shadows beyond the window at the end of the hallway. But then I realized it was 11:30 which meant that Tom would be in any second since he left work at 11 and it took him a half-hour to get home. I knew Aly would be home soon as well since she also worked the second shift.

Aly’s going to be having the ovary with the mass removed today. I guess they don’t know for sure if it’s cancerous, but they don’t want to take any chances. They’ve also decided that no, she doesn’t have kidney stones. I thought she was a bit young for that.

Also, one of the doctors is really bitchy telling her to push herself and not leave so much to the nurses. She says this doctor is a “known problem” around the hospital.

I asked her if she felt confident she would be staying with Cam for me to mail her birthday present there, and sure enough, she said she doesn’t know when she’ll be back with Cam, please send it to her parents, and thanks.

Like Cam wouldn’t hold her mail for her or something? So yeah, she definitely doesn’t want me to have that address or any info on Cam for some reason. She said it wasn’t for lack of trust but because she never stays anywhere more than a few months and isn’t sure she’ll be there for long. But she’s already been there for more than just a few months. If she didn’t trust me, why would she have given me her parents’ address? Yet it’s so hard to believe that she’s making him up. But Summayah the doctor didn’t exist so at this point, the only thing that makes sense, sadly, is that Cam really doesn’t exist either. There’s something about her that’s keeping her from getting a guy which is still hard to believe since even the worst of women can land a guy but that’s the only thing I can think of at this point.

There’s a chance he could have made her swear to keep the address private and anything about him but then what would he be hiding? I don’t know, it all seems so weird. I’ve seen pictures of just about all my friends with their significant others. She’s the only one who insists she can’t share a picture because he’s “private.” Who the hell is that private, though? Even Tom’s never had a problem with me sharing our wedding or vacation photos.

I asked him his opinion and he thinks she just doesn't want to commit to that address and that it's some kind of psychological thing. But what is she gonna do when her parents move to Florida, if they really do as she says they're thinking of doing, get a PO Box?

Well, it cuts both ways because guess what? She’s not getting our new address until she can find it out herself!

MONDAY, APRIL 5, 2021 I wish I could delete all memories of anxiety every time I wake up so that I wouldn’t spend so much time worrying about becoming anxious when I wasn’t actually anxious and would only be anxious when I really was.

It was virtually non-existent yesterday so I’m worried that today is going to be bad to make up for it. Even my arm is a little sore as if there was a delayed reaction from when I got the shot.

I also still don’t get how the hell I can gain 2.5 pounds from just ONE day of indulging and not shitting. I’m perfectly OK with remaining fat if that’s what my body feels it needs to do for whatever reason, but the curious side of me wonders about this strange phenomenon. It started resetting itself through being stuck before I started indulging. I didn’t indulge until the end of my day. So I just don’t get this one. Why is it so important to my body to hang on to its weight? What does it think would happen if I was suddenly 120 or something?

Actually, that might have been 1.2 pounds I gained since I might have been mistaken as to what I got down to but that still doesn’t take away the mystery of the big question as to why this always happens whenever I start to lose. I swear I could be locked in a room and starved and I would still hold my weight.

Despite my body’s determination to hold its weight, my wrists and ankles are slimmer lately so I had to put the smaller band back on my Fitbit even though I’m mostly only wearing it to bed these days.

Tom thinks he probably broke his foot when the board landed on the top of it. It sure is pretty nasty looking and he said it feels fine when he’s lying down but when he gets up, it’s excruciating, so he’s gotta take it easy for a few days. I can do my part by myself just fine. Gotta tackle some cleaning since I don’t want things getting too dusty whether it’s stuff we’re taking with us or that’s part of the house.

Should I be worried about seeing two Florida visitors and one Connecticut visitor when I checked my visitor report? The tracking site I’ve been using has really gone downhill because I can’t tell where they went and their new playback of visitors’ activity doesn’t work at all. Anyway, I don’t see why the termites would come up as being in Naples or New Port Richey so no need to worry, and besides, what could they do anyway?

Saturday we saw Bob and Virginia’s SUV as well as a truck that looked like some kind of construction worker parked at the house, so I’m guessing one of their kids is looking to have something done before they sell the place. And I’m sure I’ll have to hear all about it too. Yesterday was nice and quiet but that’s Lakeview Village for you. It takes a Sunday and a holiday for it to be quieter here.

SUNDAY, APRIL 4, 2021 We’re now officially vaccinated! We went down to the clubhouse at 11, and just as I figured there would be, there was a long line wrapping around to the side of the building. I’m sure we would have been in and out if I’d just gotten up rather than having been up 14 hours.

Ended up having to wait about an hour and I was surprised it was only in the mid-60s because the glaring sun made it feel warmer. The top of my head always seems to fry unless it’s under 50 degrees so I wished I had my pink sparkly cap along with a lighter-colored short sleeve outfit. I was slightly warm in my long-sleeved wine-colored dress but not too bad. It was mostly the top of my head and the bright glare. It would have been better if it was breezier or we were in the shade. Good thing it wasn’t in the 90s and humid!

Joy was passing out suckers, the little bitch. I still intend to give her a piece of my mind when we leave.

When we finally got inside, there was a long table with three young ladies. Two giving the shots and one writing out vaccine cards to prove we’ve been vaccinated. If we really do fly out of here that card will help.

One girl was giving the second dose to those who had already had their first dose and one was giving the single-dose shot that we got. Damn, did it hurt at first! I bled a little as well. Really thought it was going to be sore as hell but instead the only side effect I’ve noticed so far is fatigue. I’m so glad the laundry’s done and that the pigs are in someone else’s hands right now and I don’t have any real responsibilities to take care of today. I usually take Sundays off from working out so I can just veg out and relax. Oh, and of course get anxious at some point.

Yeah, yesterday was a pretty shitty day for that. I’m really struggling to come to terms with that and accept the fact that there’s a chance it could be with me for the rest of my life and I may never know why much less what to do about it. I still hope I’ll slowly get used to it over time as it becomes more and more of a way of life for me. The old me is already becoming a distant memory. But hey, I can do this for another 20 years or so, right? Yeah, I got this… I think.

As bright and as warm as the sun was yesterday, I never felt the least bit anxious when I was out there so I’m sure a part of it is having to be cooped up so much lately and just wanting to get the hell out of here but this was an important step in getting there! It’s going to take a couple of weeks to reach full immunity but tomorrow we can schedule eye exams so I can get new glasses and see better and we can really step up the rest of the prep work and finally get this place on the market.

Anyway, I was anxious almost all day yesterday. I’m hoping today’s anxiety will hold off until the middle or later part of my day like it usually does which means that if I do feel anything unpleasant I should have at least two hours to go. I haven’t had any black cohosh tea yet since it doesn’t always seem to be doing me much good but I did my tapping as soon as I got up. I wonder if being so fatigued prevents me from having enough energy to get anxious but I have felt anxiety when I was tired before so maybe not. Maybe just getting the hell out of the house for more than just a quick run to the store and getting a very important vaccine has a hand in why I feel better today at least so far. This vax has a 75% effective rate and is 100% effective at keeping you from having to go to the hospital and dying if you do get it. I guess your symptoms would be very mild.

Because I felt so shitty yesterday, I seriously considered skipping my medication today but I’m kind of glad I didn’t because I’m feeling better even if it’s temporary, and once again, it suggests it might not be the medication. The booming heart I initially had, yes, but the stabs of adrenaline that come in waves???

Now if only my ear/TMJ could stop bugging me so much!

SATURDAY, APRIL 3, 2021 He says he’s sure he’ll be correct in saying I’ll feel better emotionally once we’re moved and I can’t help but ask myself…but what if he’s not? What if these strange and unsettling emotions really are a life sentence? He believes it’s multiple things causing it but what are all those things and why would they suddenly cause me to feel this way when I’ve been through worse in the past and never had this problem?

A woman was depressed due to having a miscarriage in the movie I was watching and I couldn’t help but think how much I miss the days of feeling down or anxious emotionally and knowing exactly why. It was always an outside source as well. Rarely was it anything internal and if it was it was nothing compared to this and it was incredibly short-lived. The worst I’d have would be something like irritability before periods.

I didn’t have much anxiety yesterday but almost every single day now I’m feeling something. Either a sense of unease or just feeling down. I rarely feel calm and happy anymore and I just don’t understand what’s wrong with me. Again, what are all the culprits? My mind keeps bouncing back and forth between the medication, my hormones, and something else going wrong with me. I keep asking myself the same two questions… What is causing it and what can I do about it? I feel like I’m never going to have answers to these questions. This really is a life sentence, so I just have to buckle up and tough it out. The rest of my life is going to be a rough ride but little by little I should get somewhat used to it the more it becomes a way of life. I would skip a couple of days of my med to see how I did but not with labs right around the corner.

Another thing I don’t get is why my ear/TMJ has been acting up and I also have questions where that’s concerned as well. I definitely do have TMJ symptoms, but could I also have nerve damage from ear surgery? Something else wrong? But really, what’s the point of oiling it and sleeping with my mouthguard if I’m just going to be in pain anyway?

We went to Walgreens yesterday for the first time in a while because I wanted some snacks, and because of my schedule, it was better to go to a 24-hour place.

Earlier we went through the hutch drawers and cabinets and decided what to take, what to trash, and what to Goodwill. Decided I definitely don’t want to take my father’s urn. I thought about trashing it and I wouldn’t hesitate to if it was my mother’s urn. After all, she had no problem sending me to some pretty shitty places herself. But I decided to bury him. Besides, he’s dead for fuck’s sake. He’s either passed on to some other plane or into total nothingness. Toting his ashes around in a fancy vase is pretty meaningless, at least to me.

When Tom’s foot gets better, he’ll make sure to dig a deep enough hole so that if anyone goes to plant something in the same area, he won’t be unearthed. I should have buried him in the woods of Auburn.

Tom’s back is better but he dropped a heavy piece of wood on his foot yesterday and it’s swollen and bruised.

Aly is going to be stuck in the hospital for another week. They don’t think the mass on her ovary is cancerous but just to be safe, they’re going to remove it. She has a kidney infection as well.

In another week I’ll ask her if she feels confident enough that she’ll be staying with Cam to give me her address to send her birthday present to or if she still has doubts that she would prefer me to send it to her parents. I think I can guess what her answer will be.

Today is vax day! We’ll be at the clubhouse at 11:30 and hopefully we won’t have to wait for hours to get jabbed since I’ve been up since 9:20.

I slept long and well, though, so that, along with taking it easy and having an extra cup of coffee, should help. I did do some cleaning, sorting and packing earlier and then Tom reminded me to take it easy so I’m not so rundown later on.

It’s been a surprisingly quiet night for the most part but the morning planes have been horrible lately and I’m sure they will be again in less than an hour.

I should go back to leaving a pad and pen in the bathroom so I can jot down dream notes after I get up and pee. I make a mental note to jot them down in Google Docs or something later on but then I forget.

In last night’s dream, we acquired thousands of dollars although I don’t know how many thousands or how we got it. He was eating and watching a show, but instead of doing it at his computer, he was out in the living room. We planned for him to work for a few months before we moved and I went out to the living room and asked him, “Do you really think it’s worth it to work for a few months before we leave?”

He kind of shrugged as if to say he wasn’t so sure about that and then I said, “You’re fading. The feeling about you working before we leave is fading. I think we should just take the money and go.”

In reality, it’s been many months that I’ve sensed he would never again work in this state.

FRIDAY, APRIL 2, 2021 No, Aly wasn’t just at home resting. They don’t yet know if the tumor is cancerous, but she has a kidney infection and said something about a procedure she doesn’t remember much of and being given morphine for. So I’m guessing this means that both PCPs she saw diagnosed her incorrectly which is truly scary. Maybe even scarier than the actual problems.

I was already on edge early in my day so I’m guessing I’m in for another 2-month spell with only 5 days off. Again, the longer this goes on, the less I think it’s hormonal and the more I think it’s either the meds or a “broken” brain. I’d love to think it was just something about this place in particular but that would be too good to be true. Too easy, and you know I never get off easy and that it won’t be a matter of simply moving to escape it.

I just feel so blah emotionally. Yeah, I think I feel it more emotionally at the moment than physically. My brain still keeps pinging back and forth between the most likely culprits…medication, hormones, broken brain, this place.

Fitbit thought I was doing a 15-minute sport when I was on the vibe platform although there are no active minutes.

Can’t access my Duolingo account. I think it was tied in with an email address I no longer have, and I can’t remember the password either. Unfortunately, this was one of the few accounts where I didn’t keep the info stored anywhere. Oh well. I can always create another account if I want to practice languages.

THURSDAY, APRIL 1, 2021 We’re on for getting vaccinated this Saturday at the clubhouse with Johnson & Johnson’s single-dose vax! Yes! This puts us one step closer to getting out of here since that was the main holdup. But it was incredibly important! We’ll still have to stay away from people for a couple of weeks but at least this gives me a chance to be right in feeling that will get an offer in April and get out of here in June. Had we not been able to get vaccinated until the end of the month, that could have pushed it out. Of course, there are still delays that could arise but this way I feel like we practically have one foot on the plane!

I guess the single dose is less likely to have side effects but is only something like 70% effective. However, those who have had this vaccine and got sick weren’t nearly as sick as they could have been.

I think I might have been woken up once, but I can’t swear to it. I know I did wake up a lot. Right before appointments, I don’t sleep very well. Doc A got back to me and said that yes, I’ve got orders in for fasting labs and she doesn’t know why I was told differently in January. Oh, maybe because she’s got incompetent staff that can’t keep their shit coordinated and up to date.

The only bad news is that I was anxious for about four hours last night. So far I’m feeling better today and I’m guessing that’s because of the good news.

He and I went out walking earlier and we’re going to really spend the next couple of weeks prepping the place.

I just can’t wait to get the fuck out of here! Tom said there was a project going on today down the street in back in which he could hear circular saws running. Yeah, I don’t doubt it. It’s unfuckingbelievably ridiculous here. I totally would have laughed had someone told me it would be like this and that I would hear more power tools and projects here than my entire life. There is always, always something going on here and then there are the traffic and planes that are always an issue.

The question is, will it really be any quieter where we move to? I know we can eliminate the planes and get further from the street, plus I don’t see why there would be as much landscaping there, but what about projects, dogs, motorcycles, and boom stereos? That would be great if we weren’t in a flight path and we were further from the street where my sleep wasn’t threatened nearly as much, but I’m not sure it would be that much better if we got a dog barking nonstop on one side of us and someone sawing and hammering away in their garage on the other.

Before I hit the vibration platform, nothing came in from Aly today. I’m going to be pissed if I find out tomorrow that she was told to go home and rest up. In that case, she could have taken 60 seconds to at least let me know she was home and resting even if she didn’t want to get into details. I would be relieved as much as I would be pissed. But yeah, if she tells me this, I’m going to wonder if she wanted me to worry about her and possibly even used this as a tactic to avoid me, although that’s a bit of an extreme and elaborate one, and I don’t see why she would want to avoid me. She should be used to our differences by now.

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