#but this is for my dad. Marty or my brother are the best I got LOL. My dad doesnt know Elliot Page LOL )

[nyctoheart]

I plan on coming out to my dad tomorrow so 🙏 WISH ME LUCK

while religious, he’s still a very warm man so I’m not really worried he won’t accept me, I think it just might surprise him ((he’s kind of oblivious)) and he’ll need time to digest. I’m just nervous because I frankly suck at opening up in general…

but my mom already knows and is chill with it 🧘 tomorrow we three are going out for dinner 😤 I already asked him to read Yentl the Yeshiva Boy 💪 We just watched Back to the Future so I can compare an [idealized] future version of myself to Marty (petite, clean shaven) to help him visualize ⛹️ I will answer any questions he has 🤾 because I am TIRED OF IMAGINING THE LIFE I WANT 🏋️🏋️🏋️ I WANNA LIVE IT 🏋️😤🏋️😤🏋️😤

[rugtopper]

LOVING UNCLE VAL

By Rugtopper

I had debated all day whether or not I was going to talk to my uncle.  When he finally came home that evening from an art exhibition, I waited until he had finished in his bedroom before I finally knocked on his bedroom door.

"Wait just a moment, Anthony.  I'm in the bathroom."

I waited another minute or so and then my uncle told me to come in.

I sat down on the end of the bed and waited to say what I wanted to say while I watched my uncle.  My Uncle Valentine Carminello was standing in front of his dresser mirror removing his cufflinks and button studs from his tuxedo shirt.  He had removed his tuxedo pants.  Even though his shirt was loose, I could clearly see his traditional athletic undershirt beneath it.  He was still wearing his black thick and thin socks, his double grip sock garters, and his opera court shoes.  I could also see he was wearing boxer shorts that were almost knee-length with little burgundy medallions all over them. Being Italian, he had the most luscious head of jet black hair.  Although on closer inspection, it was obvious that his hair was really a toupee.  As it was 1978, his toupee was the best Kanekalon fiber money could buy.  It was thick and full and brushed off the forehead in an Italian pompadour.  It was styled with an off-the-forehead upsweep.  If you got very close you could see the mesh foundation base.  I was in awe.

"Did you enjoy the art exhibition, Uncle Val?"

"It wasn't bad, Anthony.  It was an eclectic mix.  Now, Anthony, what is the matter with you?  You have been in a mood all day long.  Did you do well on that science test?"

"I made a B minus on the test, but I got an A plus on the lab work.  That's not why I've been in a weird mood lately."

"Well, I'm proud of you.  Now, what is wrong?"

"I don't know how to tell you."

"Well, you don't look sick.  What is going on?"

I just sat there looking down, unable to really say what I really wanted to say.

"Well . . ."

I just blurted out, "I want my hair to look like yours, Uncle Val."

"Anthony, look at me.  Look at my hair.  Now I know that you are fully aware that my hair is not really my own hair.  You are old enough to know that this is a toupee."

"I know, Uncle Val, but I love how it looks and I love you.  I just want to look like you."

"Oh, Anthony I love you, too, but you are only 13 years old.  You are too young for a toupee.  Besides, you have nice pretty hair just like your mom had."

We just sat there for a few moments.  Finally I looked up at my uncle and asked, "do you know why we were late to the funeral service?"  

"That was ages ago, Anthony .  You were only six.  How could I remember.  I don't recall that we were late for the funeral, Anthony.  They were not going to start without us.  I just remember how handsome you looked in your little suit."

"Uncle Val, we were late because I kept trying to make my hair look like yours.  Dad always made fun of it.  I didn't know when I was six what a toupee was.  I just knew I liked how nice it looked."

"Anthony, your dad never liked me even before he married my sister, your mom.  I didn't want them to get married, but your mom insisted on marrying him.  When they started fighting, she made sure she named me as your guardian.  Four months later, they had that horrible car wreck that killed them and put you in the hospital for weeks."

"I know.  I don't know why I want to have hair like yours.  I just would like mine to look like yours."

"Anthony, look at me."  He reached up and started slowly removing his toupee.  I couldn't believe how bald he was.  I hadn't seen him without his toupee in a few years.  He had always tried to keep me from seeing him without it.  "Take a close look, Anthony.  Do you really want to be like this?  Does this have to do with your friends?  Your friend Danny's grandfather wears a toupee, so does your friend Marty's eldest brother.  Is that what this is about?"

"How do you know about them?"

"They both go to the same barber as I do. Is this what this is about?"

"Not exactly.  I don't know.  I just know that I'd like to have one."

"Anthony, do you really want to be bald and wear a toupee?  Do you really want to put up with the snide remarks behind your back like that I get?  What about swimming and roller coasters?  Yeah, you can enjoy them, but there is always the fear that you might have a mishap and be embarrassed.  Then there is the fact that someone might want to run their fingers through your hair someday.  Do you want to have to endure that potential humiliation?  I don't think you have even begun to think about what is involved with something like this."

As he finished telling me all that, he got up from the bed, took his toupee and put it on its leather wig stand on his dresser.  There was a slightly longer one just beside it.  He came back to the end of the bed, put on his robe, sat down, and removed his shoes, garters, and socks.  He slipped on his house shoes and went to the kitchen.  I followed him.  He filled the kettle from the tap and got two mugs.  He was going to make chamomile tea.  I knew we weren't through talking.

"Anthony, you are a sweet boy, but you haven't got a clue what you think you want."

"You may be right.  I guess I'm being silly, wanting my hair to look like yours."

"Of course I'm right.  Now, drink your tea and tell me more about this science lab.  You're a better student than I ever was.  I nearly blew my science lab up when I was your age."

I went to bed that night, but I still couldn't get the idea out of my head.  I decided to try talking to Uncle Val again after school.  It went slightly better only because Uncle Val made a concession.

"Come here, Anthony.  Put on my spare," Uncle Val said to me after I talked to him the next day.  I went into his bedroom.  I sat at the little built-in vanity.  He took the spare toupee off its stand and put it on top of my head.  It felt funny with my mop of dark wavy hair bunched up underneath it.  He tried to get it to stay in place and combed it.  I thought it looked great, even if I was only 13.

"So, what do you think?  How does it feel?"

"I don't know.  I guess I would have to get used to it like you did."

He took it off and put it back on its stand.

"I'll tell you what, Anthony.  When you are older, if you need it, I will do everything to help you get one.  However, if, when you graduate from high school, you still want it, whether you need it or not, I will get it for you before you go off to college.  Okay?"

"Okay."

With that, I didn't discuss it with him anymore.  However, the desire never faded.  It only grew stronger as the months and years rolled on.  As I soon discovered how to pleasure myself, I realized why I might want it.  That was something I certainly couldn't tell Uncle Val.

As the school years rolled by, I adopted a few other things I liked about my uncle.  He took me to buy some underclothes and a pair of garters.  He thought it was funny when I dyed my dark brown hair black, but he didn't make fun of me.

The week of my high school graduation, I asked him if he remembered what he had promised me when I was only 13.  I reminded him that he said that he would get me a toupee whether I needed one or not after I graduated from school.  I asked him for one as a graduation present before I went off to college.

"What!  Are you crazy, Anthony?  Look at you.  Most guys would be jealous of a head of hair like yours.  Hell, I'm jealous.  Why on earth would you want to get rid of it only to cover up with a cheap facsimile?  It doesn't make any sense."

"You're right, Uncle Val.  It doesn't make any sense.  I don't understand it at all, but you promised.  Will you take me to your barber next week after I graduate?"

Uncle Val just stood there .  He hadn't changed much in the past six years.  His toupee was just as dark and full.  It was still a synthetic fiber, though I don't know what kind.  He finally walked over to the phone and called his barber.  He was on the phone for quite some time.  When he got off the phone, he looked at me and said, "you have an appointment a week from Friday."

I know I smiled and said thank you.  I probably also got a bit excited in other ways.  I wasn't really thinking clearly.

Finals and graduation flew by without incident.  I was 25th in my class.

When Friday came, I was excited and nervous and scared.  I had no idea what was going to happen.  Over the years I had gone to the barbershop with Uncle Val.  I had watched him get his real hair trimmed while he sat there very bald and embarrassed.  I would look at the hairpiece magazines.  Sometimes I'd take a few home to look at while I played with myself.  Sometimes Danny's grandfather was there.  Sometimes Marty's eldest brother was there.  Danny's grandfather was at least 60.  His toupee was this pewter or silvery gray that was very thick.  Marty's eldest brother was named Jon.  He was about an inch shorter than Marty.  He wore a brown toupee with a traditional left-sided part.  I couldn't believe how bald he was when the barber removed his toupee to trim his fringe.  Marty and I had turned 18 a few weeks apart.  Jon had to have been 26 or 27.  Marty never told me when Jon got his first toupee.  I was going to wait and ask him myself after I got mine.

After all the customers had left, Uncle Val began talking with the barber.  About ten minutes later, he motioned for me to get in the chair.  He had a toupee exactly like Uncle Val's, only it was light brown.  There was some gray on the sides and in the back, but none in the toupee.  He began combing my hair in various directions.  Finally he got these long clips and began to segment my hair.  He took a pair of scissors and a narrow-toothed comb.  He started giving me a regular haircut on the sides above my ears and in the back.  He was extremely quick.  In less than 15 minutes, he was completely done.  I had a traditional businessman's haircut that would have been acceptable in any corporate setting around the globe.  He put down the comb and scissors and walked to a cabinet a few feet away.  He opened to reveal a dozen wig stands on three different shelves.  He took two identical off the third shelf and carried them over to the ledge across from the chair from where I was sitting.  They were similar in style to the barber's and Uncle Val's, but they were a dark brown like what my natural hair color had been before I dyed it.

He took the clips out of the hair on top.  He got clippers, turned them on, and began removing all the hair on the top of my head.  He made several passes from back to front as sheets of my dyed black hair fell onto the clear, see-through cape.  With each pass, I saw more and more scalp.  After the third pass, he got a small electric razor and ran it back and forth across the top of my head.  I had dreamed of this moment.  Now that it was finally happening, I did not know how to respond.  I just sat silently in awe of my new look.  He must have told me to get up because Uncle Val had to call my name and tap me on the shoulder.  The barber led me to the sink.  He shampooed my hair.  It had an almost acrid, pungent odor.  I soon discovered that it was to remove the black dye.  After he applied a heavy cream conditioner to my hair and scalp, he left me with my head in the basin for almost five minutes.  After he rinsed me, he applied another heavy cream, but only to the top of my scalp.  It felt like my scalp was on fire.  He told me this would kill the hair follicles for several weeks making it easier to wear the toupee on a day-to-day basis.  When he said that I suddenly got the most uncontrollable erection I had ever had in public.  Tipped backward in that chair, there was no way to hide it.  The barber just smiled and made a comment about me being like my uncle.  After he rinsed the depilatory from my scalp, he led me back to the barber's chair.  I got a good look at the new me.  I was bald.  I was almost as bald as Uncle Val.  I didn't look 18.  I didn't know how old I looked, but it wasn't anything like a teenager should look.

The fitting, and the cutting, and the styling took quite some time.  Despite his swiftness, it took over an hour to "cut-in" both of my new hairpieces.  He dealt with both exactly the same way.  There was very little styling involved.  They were mesh based just like Uncle Val's.  There was a perimeter of hardened plastic where the barber applied a heavy double-sided tape.  He used thinning shears to taper and blend the sides and back into the fringe hair.  He never trimmed the main body of my new toupees.  Lastly, he rolled this machine over and plugged it in.  It looked like a portable IV drip that you would see in the hospital except this had a huge two gallon container at the bottom full of water with a hose attached to something that looked like it came off a vacuum cleaner.  He told me it was a steamer that is used for clothes, but it worked well on hairpieces.  He turned it on.  In less than two minutes, steam was coming out of the hose.  He took the vacuum cleaner attachment in his hand and with a brush began styling my new hair.  I could feel my toupee ever so slightly lift as he used the steamer and the brush to "shape" my new hair into the same style he and Uncle Val also had.

When he finished with the second toupee, he put the spare wig on its stand and the other empty stand in two sacks.  Uncle Val paid and we left the barbershop.  Uncle Val had me place the sacks in his trunk.  When we got into the car, he looked over at me and said, "well, Anthony, is it everything you thought it would be?"

I didn't really know what to say or what he expected me to say.  Finally, I looked in the vanity mirror at my new hair.

"I like how it looks, but it feels different than what I had expected it to feel like.  I'm also slightly nervous because I'm actually bald underneath my new toupee."

"Well, you said this is what you wanted.  You better plan on wearing it for a very long time.  I don't want you to leave the house without it taped to your head.  Do you understand me?  So, are you ready to face the public as a young man in a rug?"

"What?"

"I thought I'd take you out to dinner.  I know graduation was last week, but I think you need to get used to wearing it out in public as soon as possible.  Danny and his grandfather, Tom, and Jon and Marty are meeting us at the restaurant.  Danny and Marty were at the barbershop earlier this morning.  I think they will want you to see their new look, and they will want to see your new look, as well."

I just turned and stared at my uncle and finally said, "I love you, Uncle Val!"

"I know, Anthony.  I love you, too."

Six handsome men of various ages sat around a huge table at a popular local steakhouse in 1984.  It was no different than other people eating out on any given night, except these six men all shared an uncommon, but fairly obvious secret.  Sadly, they were also oblivious to the fact that most anyone with basic observation skills could deduce that special secret.

[timechange]

MCFLY JULY ‘24 — “don’t need money, don’t take fame.”

APRIL 28, 2011

“Dad?”

Marty is never, ever gonna get tired of hearing that. He immediately stops, setting his pen down and the freshly signed CDs aside and giving his full attention to Emmett, who is hanging around the doorway like he still isn’t sure, after almost thirteen years, if he’s allowed to come in.

“Hey, kiddo,” Marty greets warmly, his son flashing him a small smile. “What’s goin’ on?”

Emmett looks around before stepping inside, and Marty is reminded of when Ellie, after input from Jules and Verne, assigned everyone animals when she was nine. Uncle Doc’s a mantis shrimp, she’d proclaimed, Auntie Clara’s a bear, Dad’s a whale, Mom’s a raven, and Emmett’s a pangolin! While he’s not sure about the rest of her picks, her choice for her brother… Yeah, at times like this he can see the resemblance.

“Dad…” he tries again. “Dad, did we ruin your life?”

Marty’s kind of glad his abject, heart shattering horror at that statement coming from his son outweighs his impulse to laugh in disbelief at a statement that couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Of course not,” he reassures, opening his arms just in case his boy didn’t feel like he was too big for a hug. His son folds himself into him, burying his head in his shoulder. “The day you and Ellie were born,” Marty tells him, rubbing his back, “was pretty much the best day of my life.”

“…Even though Mom almost broke your hand?” Emmett asks, voice muffled, and Marty laughs.

“Yeah, even then. Y’know, if I could go back,” which he could, but his boy didn’t need to know that right yet, “I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Emmett starts to pull away and Marty lets him go, but still holds him at arm’s length.

“Now,” father asks son, “where’s all this coming from, huh? You’re not hanging around that Tannen kid again, are you?”

Emmett’s face twists in disgust.

“No, Dad, are you nuts? That whole family’s crazy.”

“Attaboy,” Marty says proudly.

“...I found some of your old concert videos on YouTube,” Emmett finally admits. “And Dad… you look like you’re havin’ the time of your life. How come you gave it all up? It was because of us, wasn’t it?” His brown eyes are big and watery and Marty squeezes his shoulders.

“Aw, Em,” Marty sighs. “I had a blast on tour, you’re right. Hangin’ out with the guys, getting to see the world… It was a lot of fun for a while, but when it stopped being fun, we quit. And I have a blast here, too, with you and your sister and your mom. If you ask me… that right there’s the adventure of a lifetime. I love music, and I’m always gonna play music, but it was never about any kinda fame or fortune for me.” What would superstardom be like? He can barely keep up with the merch and the interviews and the producers and the long nights at the recording studios and the music videos as it is. He’d hate being so far away from home, never getting a moment’s peace, never being able to breathe.

“Then… what was it about?” Emmett asks.

“Believing in myself,” Marty says after a moment of thought. “Getting my voice heard. Y’know, I was a lot like you when I was your age.”

“Really?” Emmett breathes, awestruck, as if unable to conceive such a thing. “But everybody says you’re like Ellie.”

“And I am.” It takes the wind out of him sometimes, how similar he and his daughter are. She’s just as fiery, just as creative, just as stubborn. Everyone’s always thought that, just like how people have always compared Emmett to Jennifer. But when he looks at his daughter, so often he sees his wife’s determination and intelligence, and when he looks at his son… sometimes he has to double check he’s not in the DeLorean.

“But I’m also like you, Em. It’s hard as hell being a kid, y’know? I remember. You got so many ideas and so many thoughts and you feel like you’re in this world that you don’t really understand yet and that’s gonna shoot you down every chance it gets. I just wanted somebody to see me, but that’s a scary thing. I tried real hard to pretend like I was tough and to make like I wasn’t afraid of anything… but I was terrified, kid. Still am, sometimes.” Marty rubs the back of his neck. “What I’m trying to say is, it’s okay not to be sure of yourself yet, and it’s okay to be open about your feelings. And whenever you wanna talk, I’m here for you, and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Got it?”

“Got it.” Emmett smiles and hugs him again. “I love you, Dad.”

“Love you too. So damn much.” Marty kisses the top of his son’s head and ruffles his dirty blond hair, which is immediately greeted with protest.

[marbarmars]

It’s Saturday! Right now I’m hanging out with my brothers whom I love very much! I have four younger brothers! For today’s rambles lemme introduce you to em! We got Xavier, currently 16, he’s grown to be so responsible. Maybe a little too quickly…but I could say the same about myself! He’s really good at Smash Ultimate, and I can certainly say he’s better than me at this point. I used to take so much pride and seriousness in being the best in all the games we play, but I’m glad I let that go a bit. He gets so unlucky in Mario Party though–it’s nuts xD Next up we got Noah, currently 15, he’s SUPER smart with computers and stuff. He shows me the way of the pirate and now I have cool (legit) games on my 3DS and he (totally bought) Fire Emblem 3 houses using my cartridge and his laptop. But oh boy he can be so forgetful…me fr fr, if it’s 10 minutes before it’s time to go back to his Dad’s for the week he’s usually trying to find his airpods he buried into the couch by accident. Very quiet but can get so goofy when I press the right buttons hehe! Then we have Blake, currently 9, he is tiiiny! Short hothead, but he always finds a way to make me laugh. I feel like he gets left out sometimes and I try to talk to him when I can, I know my older boys try to get all of my attention hahaha. He struggles with his emotions a lot…I can relate to that, but he means well, and he loves usss and I love him back. Last but not least is Chase, currently 4, phew he is quite the demon child, especially when he was younger. But he calls me Marty….so I think he gets a pass, for now xD I’m excited to see what he’ll turn out to be as he gets older….so it’s like even when Xavier and Noah grow up and do their own things I still have Blake and Especially Chase to watch grow. I know I’m not saying too much about him but like, he likes cars and Mario, he’s a troublemaker but he’s MY troublemaker. I see em biweekly rn cause of my job and stuff…but boy I do love seeing them when I do! So I’ll be busy today….but I’ll see you tomorrow at noon!

[depressedstressedlemonzest]

weekly tag wednesday

tagged by: @samantitheos and @mybrainismelted

Weekly Tag Wednesday - Firsts!

Name: Lem

Age: 32

First Pet? We had an array of different dogs and animals before, but the one I remember solidly as the first one with a name that was there longer than a month was a black pug, her official name was Julianna Opal, why? We got Juliana from the movie Quest for Camelot, and Opal was my brother and dad's birthstone. But her name that stuck was Ding based on the dinging her tags made on her food bowl.

First Word? I think to my mother's dismay it was dada. BUT mom tells this good story about the first time I said fuck. I was about three and she was heavily pregnant with my brother, we were playing with barbies on the floor and i just casually slip a "fuck" between whatever barbie babble I was doing, She calmly asks ("I knew I had to be calm because you were three and if I made a scene you'd say fuck everywhere knowing it was bad because you were a little shit") "where did you hear that word honey?" Thinking I'd say my dad. my reply? "From yooooou"

First Celebrity Crush? oh hell, the only one coming to mind is Adrien Brody, which I know was in middle school because I would print pictures of him off in the school library and keep them in a special folder to look at through the day when class was lame. (no shame)

First IRL Crush? His name was Tommy, starting at least in kindergarten to when he moved in third grade. He promised me a kiss once we both turned 18 too, which he never fulfilled.

First kiss? His name was Marty, we hid in the big tunnel on the playground in first grade and the entire memory is blurry, but I remember that little kiss. Now first KIIIIISS i was 16 and we were watching Tarzan at my house and he just leaned over and kissed me during the opening song, before Tarzan's parents died.

First Car? fuuuuck I loved that thing. a 1991 grand marquis mercury. BEST BOAT ever

First apartment/house/dorm/whatever away from your parents? I moved in with my best friend (still my best friend) and my boyfriend at the time, into a trailer, three bed two bath, big ass kitchen, I loved the shower/bath it was huuuge.

First time on a plane? Never been on one.

First cellphone? a tracfone

First concert? Fallout Boy right before the pandemic.

First Foreign country you visited? Never been to one.

First sport you ever played? soccer when I was four or five.

First career aspiration? National Geographic photographer

And finally… tell me about the first time you wrote/drew/created/whatever something that made you think "wow". Middle School, wrote a four composition book length book about a girl who fell in love with a werewolf then got kidnapped by the evil werewolf creator and taken to his evil castle in the artic, where she started learning spells and when her beloved came to rescue her she helped kick ass.

Cringingly i tried to read through it and edit it a few years ago and I was APPALLED that I ASKED my 7th grade english teacher to read it and edit my grammar and spelling.

I swear to fuck she and the other teachers must have had discussions about it because they ALL made some comment about my book here and there and asked to be mentioned when I published my first one.

THERE WERE MAKEOUT SCENES

THERE WAS DISNEY SONG INSERTS

SHE THOUGHT JCPENNY WAS A HIGH END FASHION STORE

THE MALE LOVE INTEREST (THE WEREWOLF) HAD NEVER HAD MCDONALDS IN HIS TWENTIES AND SHE INTRODUCED IT TO HIM LIKE IT WAS AMBROSIA AND HONEY

god the flashbacks

I'll tag @witchboywitchboywitchboy @suzy-queued @ian-galagher

[farewellneverland2004]

Notes Listening to the Lightning Thief audiobook for the First Time Notes:

- first chapter is the best sentence I’ve ever heard in a fiction book ever!

-love how it’s written as basically saying “oh, you don’t believe this stuff is real? Good! Keeping believing that! You’ll be safer!”

-completely forgot he’s canonically a New Yorker

-imagine almost being killed and then being gaslight into thinking it didn’t happen and the math teacher you killed didn’t exist!

- love how my girls be knitting socks for a bull at this point.

-I don’t know yet whether I like how the book or the tv series handled the finding out you’re a demigod thing better? Ones gives more excuses to learn more about the world, but the other is a bit more of a gut punch like later if you know what I mean.

-I vocally screamed when they said Grover was 28!

-I’d lowkey be down for being Haephestus’s kid. I want to know blacksmithing.

- I still wish Annabeth pushed him in the water in the book.

- imagine being Mr. D’s kids. Your dads the camp director AND doesn’t want to be in your life?! Forget being a forbidden child, where’s the payback for THESE kids!?

-The Thalia Lore was laid out better in the book.

- I think I liked the M arc in the series more, but still good.

- was that woman who saw the Chimera a Seer?

-the water park thing was funny, but I like how the series changed it to give it a more emotional feel. Just my opinion.

-Be free Marty!

- I was really hoping the 70s kid in the Lotus Casino was actually Nico but it was still good(I’m just excited to meet Nico)

-Man! Hades was Way Less creepy looking in the series.

-I was gonna make a joke about Hades probably being a don to everyone but his wife(which I will head canon) but then Percy said he had the eyes of a dictator and that kinda ruined my joke lol

- I love how Hades seems ominous and scary, but then just reveals himself to be a confused and overworked man who just misses his wife.

- honestly don’t blame Hades for not believing them. This guy needs a vacation and his brothers to stop causing problems because he’s accusing 12 year old of stealing his duds.

-I wish they explained the cap better in the series because I thought I was smart thinking the cap was the helm, turns out it’s not cause apparently the helm is even cooler.

-Mr. Elevator man probably does need a raise!

- justice for Cerberus!

-I love how he could get away with the Mushroom joke!

-“LA was on fire” man look how ahead of its time it was. (Was that too soon?)

-honestly I’m disappointed I didn’t even realize it would make so much more sense to suspect Ares!

- No wonder only the Spartans liked Ares!

- only the ADHD kid with water powers could call a war god coward and LIVE!

-PERCY’s GOT A CRUSH!

-love how he just got a can from his bestie

-YOU HEARD IT! ADHD will save you in battle! Lol

-plot twist! The algebra teacher will be his final final boss!

- I can’t believe they’re gaslighting the world to get him out of being a fugitive!

-YES! Bankrupt the deadbeat!

-I love he’s giving us an actual playlist for this book

-headcanon! Hades didn’t copy Olympus, but the opposite. And he’s not bitter but annoyed cause Zeus likes to copy his style but make it flashy!

-Mr. P looks like my uncle.

-Zues gives me the deadbeat step dad vibes

-P&P talk is just all business

-that’s rough your own dad feels sorry you existing cause he knows you’ll eventually die.

-Sally is a QUEEN! You heard it here people!

- Mr. Swimmer man gonna have to do more than acknowledge his son before he’s considered redeemed in my book bro.

-of course deadbeat is still here! And he Is actually as bad as I thought! Didn’t think this kids book would go there! Why is it here we get dark?!

-SALLY! Leave Him Now!

-YES! STONE THE TRASH!

-Percy’s a better person than I am!

-Girlboss Sally is supreme!

-Girl said “I don’t need a god to solve my problems! I’m the queen here and and I’ll solve my own problems!”

-PLEASE DON’T LET PERCY HAVE TO GIVE UP HIS MOM JUST CAUSE HIS GRANDAD IS SCHEMING?!

-f*ck him up Sally! Literally my favorite character

-He called Annabeth Beautiful! AHHH!

-yay! Grover got his license after 28 years!

-YES! She Stoned the Trash! Get your degree girl! You deserve it!

-now I definitely want to be a Haephestus kid!

-Oh god! Grover’s actually looking his age! I’m kinda glad the series didn’t do that!

-Please come back Grover!

-Everything is WAY TOO CALM! That can’t be good!

-The deadline thing is SO REAL!

-GO TO YOUR MOM AND FIGHT THOSE MONSTERS!

-Luke Needs Therapy!

-AHHH! He’s planning to commit crimes!

-what was his quest again?

-Oh god! He really is kinda sociopathic! Who attacks people with scorpions

-lowkey Luke’s be based if he wasn’t attempting murder and wars

-bro couldn’t steal an apple and blames everyone but the man manipulating him.

-wow! He manipulated a war god?! Impressive!

-thank you Chekhov’s Gun!

-yay! She’s trying to rebuild her relationship with her dad!

-great setup for the second book!

-seaweed brain!

-love the ending! A heroes first journey ends at home !

-Final Thoughts: worth the hype! Loved it ! 9.5/10

[double--cross-d]

I'm gonna share some Flipline LGBT/Family Headcannons I have lol

Family

Chuck, Utah, and Nevada are all siblings. Chuck is the middle child, and moved to Tastyville when he turned 18

Taylor and Indigo are siblings, and Hank is their Dad. Taylor's kind of cut contact with both (mental health issues) but he and Indigo are making an effort to reconnect

Peggy and Austin are cousins! Peggy's still dreading the day he gets to be taller than her.

I read this in a fanfic (My Dearest Matilde by @yakkolicious) but Big Pauly being Penny's dad is something I totally sign off on

@magicmindless first headcannoned this but, Mary and James are siblings. James got the short end of the stick when it came to cat allergies :/

Gabitha is Treble's half sister and they either want to throw her out of a window or get her to just. Do better things with her life

Speaking of which NuMarcus is Taylor's Uncle and Taylor never wants to speak to him ever again (once was enough >:|)

Radlynn and Sarge Fan are twins and eagerly talk about their evil twisted hyperfixations

Timm is Lisa's adopted brother (based on that one Christmas image with the X twins)

Xandra is scared of big crowds and typically clings onto Xolo or Edna if they're stuck in one together. No one else, even her friends, gets this treatment.

Yippy is Wally's granddaughter! He's her number one customer.

Wylan's mom died when he was in 6th grade and was part of the reason for the move

Sue and Prudence are sisters. Prudence was the first person Sue came out to and the first thing she said was, "Called it"

Sexuality Headcannons (most are trans)

Rudy's a nonbinary he/him lesbian. Marty is the sole boy of the group

Mary and Sue are married! Their pugs were the flower girls. Love wins!

Transmasc Utah! They/Them Pronouns but they will accept he/him on occasion

Gremmie's also a transman and helped Utah realize they were also cisn't! The two are best friends.

Scooter's actually transfem, but still uses He/him Pronouns because they're fun

Penny and Alberto are T4T and started HRT when they were 15 (Alberto started a year before Penny though)

Cooper's trans and Prudence didn't realize this until he mentioned he wouldn't be at work for two weeks due to his top surgery. His binding game was off the fucking charts.

Cookie is a Devon Rex. Cooper decided on this breed because he knew how bad James' allergies were and had a big crush on him but still wanted a cat.

Quinn and Timm got a divorce because Quinn realized she was a lesbian. Timm leaving the company without warning afterwards was what ticked her off.

Wylan is transmasc, and his dad fully supports him. He even helped Wylan attain his first binder.

Mousse bullied Allan throughout highschool for "being gay" (he was bisexual) and then when he grew up he realized that A. Whippa's a lesbian (that's when his support began) and B. HE DOESN'T EVEN LIKE WOMEN.

Roy and Moe are constantly on the verge of asking the other out but are both too socially awkward to do so. Ninjoy actually beat Dynamoe once because flirting with the pizza boy is more important than murding his archenemy.

Chuck and Taylor are dating, they just don't remember when the hell they even started. The B in their Bromance faded out so subtly and they never brought it up to each other until after someone asked them when they started dating.

Nonbinary Taylor! He genuinely does not give a fuck about Pronouns but if you ask you'll probably get he/they.

Transfem Mindy! She helped Liezel figure out that she was also trans.

[jodilin65]

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 30, 2012 I hate both my uncles. Always have, always will. As a child, I tried to love them and I tried to find some good in them, but I couldn’t even like them. I did what most children do and tried to win their approval, though it was to no avail. Why they never seemed to like me, especially my mother’s brother Ronnie, was never anything I could understand. As a child, I felt hurt. As a young adult, I was curious as to what they could possibly have against me, though I assumed it had to do with my pranksterish ways and the labels my mom just loved to slap on me in hopes of gaining sympathy and attention on account of it. As an older adult, I didn’t give a shit. I only knew that had my uncles waited till I was around 25 to treat me the way they did as a child, they would have ended up in the hospital while I’d have gone straight to jail.

I remember being kinda pissed for Tammy when she said that although she ignored it, Ronnie would give her dirty looks every chance he got when they met up at Larry’s house when his son died in 1997. And all for something that might’ve happened what, 25 years ago? It’s scary how long one can hold a grudge over the dumbest of things. I know my cousin Polly, who I haven’t even seen since I was 19, still resents me for the prank calls I made to her bastard father Marty (my dad’s brother) in 1989. Calls that have long since been owned up to and apologized for. I regret apologizing, though. Am I really sorry for the few measly pranks I pulled on the bastard who once terrorized and threatened me as a 15-year-old child? Even his own mother who was living with us at the time was terrified out of her mind.

Is hanging onto Tammy really the right thing? Or should I just let her go and be done with the whole damn family forever? I guess only time will tell. But I decided to do what was best for me and not worry about how others may react. If I decide to let go and she has a hard time dealing with it and accepting it and feels she has to resort to childish harassment, that’s her problem, not mine. I’m not going to worry anymore about who can or can’t respect my decision to either stick around or go my own way, but as long as I am accepted as I am without being accused of lying and without anyone trying to push, change or control me, then there’s little else that could drive me away. Maybe if you pester me with 20 messages a day and then take a shit fit if I don’t reply to each and every one the instant you send them, or if you lie (and I don’t mean a little white lie as a joke) or try to rip me off I’d be tempted to split, but otherwise, there’s no need to.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 29, 2012 It may come as a surprise, but guess who’s got her first REAL dentist appointment in years scheduled for next Wednesday?! Yeah, even I’m kind of like, wow, really? God must be pissed. You know, the one who didn’t think I even deserved to be insured for – what was it – about 8 years? Well, if He’s up there – tough! I’m going to finally do something about the pain I have endured since 2004. Tom scheduled his sexist wife with a female dentist. :) He’s such a sweetie. :)

By 8:30 this morning, they were already sawing away up at the summit. It’s to be in the mid to upper 90s from now through Tuesday, so I don’t expect to hear much for long other than the Jes pest roaring in and out on its motorcycle half a dozen times during the day.

Still not sure what language to study next. I did a poll on FB asking if it should be French, Urdu, Latvian or Hawaiian. I’d go for the Hawaiian but LM doesn’t have that course available yet. I’d have to learn bits and pieces on YouTube which isn’t the way I’d prefer to learn.

I shared the first chapter of a story I started with Nane and Alison, so we’ll see if I hear back from them. Well, I know I’ll get feedback from Alison, but Nane will probably be too busy.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 28, 2012 I was flattered to receive a message from Nane saying she’d been thinking about me and to also see that she spent 20 minutes on my blog. :)

My diagram muscles no longer feel like someone took a bat to them and I only sneezed 10 times today instead of 100, so I’m not doing too bad right now.

I entered to win a beauty basket from Yves Rocher, who I haven’t ordered from in ages since they stopped selling my 3 favorite perfumes. Browsing their site, though, is a reminder of just how much French I really do know. I just can’t pull it out of thin air on my own if I wanted to say something in French, and can only understand some of it if I read it or hear it. Maybe I’ll enroll in LM’s French courses if we ever move.

But that’s just the thing. Will we ever move??? Every time we find what appears to be a great deal we always discover a nasty catch with it. Last night it was an updated doublewide with the perfect amount of space for just 5K on a lot that rents for $500 a month. But then the ad went on to say the backyard was perfect for a dog, which pretty much tells me that particular park allows people to just toss them outdoors and forget about them.

Tom seemed a bit annoyed with my reluctance at first, but as I reminded him, barking, screaming kids and car stereos are what we’re supposed to be avoiding. So why defeat the purpose and take a place that has “dog hangouts” which suggests that while they may limit the size and number of dogs you can have, they don’t care what you do with them or who it may affect?

Then Tom checked the place out by satellite and OMG! Not only did the roof look absolutely horrible, but the back of it ran alongside a bunch of cramped duplexes. There was a thin block wall between the places, but even he agreed it wouldn’t be worth it. The duplexes may not allow dogs, but that doesn’t mean they couldn’t have friends visiting with dogs, barbecues, parties, screaming kids, etc. There were also a couple of basketball hoops – right on the street, believe it or not – and any loud car stereos, house stereos or those with drums, bass guitars and shit like that would be heard in the place very easily. There were no dogs allowed in the duplex we lived in up in Oregon, but God just had to see to it that this bitch moved in next to us with a service dog that the management company couldn’t say no to. So why wouldn’t we “happen” to get some extremes and exceptions there, too?

The hunt for the right place may be going frustratingly slow, but all the while our savings is building up and up and up.

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 27, 2012 “I can’t live like this anymore,” I told Tom yesterday through one of my scattered sneezing fits. He agrees. So we’re going to schedule appointments for both my teeth and allergies. We can’t keep waiting on a move that may never happen or that may not happen for many months.

Allergies are now whipping my ass every 4-10 days and it’s really interfering with my day-to-day life. Severe allergies are much like the common cold, so to have to stop what I’m doing to blow my nose or because I get hit with a sneezing fit really gets to be a bit much. It’s all I can do at times to keep from taking a frying pan and smashing my fucking nose right off my face. If it were once a month I could live with it, but this is getting to be an average of every week. First the sneezing and runny nose interfere with my work, then I get all drowsy and knocked out by the allergy pills I take which don’t help that much anyway.

I slept forever last night (12 hours) and awoke several times feeling like cotton balls had been jammed inside my mouth.

Sleeping 12 hours has its pros and cons. If I could do it every day instead of the usual 8 hours, I could probably lose weight without nearly starving myself to death. But the longer I sleep the more likely I am to wake up with lower back pain.

Although I have a bit of a Benadryl hangover, I should be able to work out today, nose pincher-free, as well as get some work done around here. Maybe some story writing too, though I don’t expect to be very sociable online.

It’s going to be in the low to mid-90s all week. That will help restrict the Jes pest’s outdoor hours to early mornings. Once it stops reaching 80° he’s going to be outside working on shit all day long. I had really hoped to be gone by November, but it doesn’t look that way at this point.

The two times during the year you’re most likely to hear chainsaws are now when they’re cutting for firewood and in the late spring after the last of the rain. It’s important to trim back any trees that can be potential fire hazards during the long dry summer ahead.

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 26, 2012 I’m really disappointed in Maliheh. Yesterday I sent her a message containing the latest journal entries just to see if she’d care enough to send a simple message in response to all I’ve been going through, even if it was just a simple “I’m sorry” or “Hope you feel better soon.” TIP shows she picked it up, but I got absolutely nothing in response from her. Some friend she’s turned out to be, huh? Well, this time I totally mean it when I say I’m going to make her wait on me if I ever hear from her again.

I really think she just wanted to buddy up to me, IDK, maybe so she could feel a little better about herself and like she was making up for the past at least somewhat, and so she could help see to it that her name was left out of my book, then maybe she planned to not so much as dump me but slowly drift away in the end. Well, guess who’s going to drift along with her?

When I’m actually chatting with Maliheh she makes me think she really does care. But when I don’t hear from her for so long and she ignores messages I know she picked up, it really makes me think she’s only hanging onto me to keep me from mentioning her in my blog and things like that.

No more “poking” or messaging Christiane either for the same reasons. She’s just not a true friend.

My Reading reader returned this morning. Looks like they may’ve bookmarked my blog. They were in for an hour 3 days ago, 10 minutes yesterday, and just 28 seconds today. Because today’s visit was so rushed, maybe they’ll return later. It could be a friend of a friend from VH, but I really get the feeling it’s someone I know. Well, if it’s not Larry or Jennifer, then who could it be? Someone connected to extended family or family friends?

Later…

Tom got his first summons for jury duty since being here in Cali. I guess you don’t have to go to court on a set day and time and you just call in instead. I still can’t believe they just randomly pull people off the street for that. Okay, so I know they’re screened somewhat, but it still seems weird. Judges aren’t pulled at random, and lawyers aren’t pulled at random, so why are jury members? I would think they’d hire people to do that full-time and that that would be a full-time career for some people.

I looked at our 5-cast and wow. It really does seem to get warmer and dryer each year. We usually have to shut windows at night by late August. Yet here it is almost October and we’ve only shut them a few nights. But high 95°, low 61°? Love it! I do miss the rain a bit, though.

Even though it’s still pretty summery out, I’m starting to hear more of the Jes pest in the early mornings. He was hammering something up there at 8:30 this morning, so I heard when I was near the open kitchen window. This cock would be just as big of a nightmare to have living a few feet away from me as were the pack of freeloaders we had to deal with in Arizona.

I was wrong in assuming the application Tom filled out was just to get into the park. It was actually for financing for any park-owned models we may want. If we got something that wasn’t as nice we could buy it outright, but if we want something nicer we’ll have to make payments. Hopefully, the fact that we haven’t heard back from them yet is a good thing. Wouldn’t they tell us “no way” right away? If it turns out they rejected us but were too lazy to call and tell us, I don’t want to do business with them. Tom’s going to call them next week if he doesn’t hear anything this week.

Got hit with yet another allergy attack. As soon as I woke up I knew it was going to be a bad day given how stuffy my nose was. I scrambled to work out and do a bit of cleaning before the allergy pill I took could knock me out as it did for a few hours. I clamped my nose with pinchers I used to wear when swimming so I wouldn’t go sneezing all over the treadmill, but this is ridiculous. Just fucking ridiculous! Tom thinks I’m allergic to some plant or animal here in these woods and that once we leave I’ll be ok. Yeah, well, I’ll believe it when I see it. So far, though, Oregon’s the only place I’ve lived where my allergies weren’t an issue.

Maybe I’ll feel up to doing a little cooking and even doing my nails and using the Zud I ordered by mail that I couldn’t find in stores to easily clean tea and coffee stains from my mugs. Nothing else works so well!

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 25, 2012 Gross! A skunk sprayed really close to the house. I’ve got incense going in the bedroom and kitchen. What the hell is so close to the house that it just had to go and spray?

Anyway, I’m still kinda pissed, but I feel better today. I guess it was just digesting and accepting the initial news that got to me, but now that I’ve had time to think and sleep and think some more, there’s no sense in staying upset over things I cannot change. Doesn’t mean it’s right, doesn’t mean it’s fair, doesn’t mean I like it, doesn’t mean I’ll forgive my parents, especially my mom; it just means I accept that they were who they were – a couple of phony people who felt the need to put on a show throughout life instead of being who they were. If there’s an afterlife I hope they know just how UNproud of them I am. Even Tom said he didn’t realize just how important image was to them until now. They fooled an awful lot of people. Did they think they’d never die one day and that the truth would never be exposed? Did they think no one would find out they weren’t the rich people they wanted the world to think they were and that while they drove their fancy cars they were in debt and struggling their asses off, especially in the end?

Tom said the only thing he feels bad for them about is how they had to endure the stress of keeping up the false façade for so many years. I don’t feel bad for them at all, though. They made their own bed so it was only right that they lie in it. Besides, no amount of suffering could compare to the suffering I did in Valleyhead as well as right under their roof.

What I don’t get is why image was so important to them. Why couldn’t they just be themselves and not worry about who thought what? But it’s true, image was everything to them. Whenever we’d visit each other they saw what I was wearing and not the person behind the clothes. I was a skirt that may’ve been too short and a shirt that may’ve been too tight. I was never just Jodi.

They’re part of the reason why I have such an I-don’t-give-a-shit-what-people-think attitude. Besides, I’m smart enough to know that not everyone’s going to like us no matter what walk of life we come from and no matter what we look like. People can hate you if you’re rich same as if you’re poor. They can hate you if you’re pretty as much as they can hate you if you’re ugly.

I anonymously asked half a dozen or so people on Ask what they thought of the 40% thing and the majority said they would be grateful for what they got. As Tom pointed out, they don’t have anything anyway. 40% of nothing is the same as 60% of nothing. Tom thinks I’ll probably get 2-3 grand. Well, at least that will pay for most of what we’ll want for the new house and then it won’t have to come out of our own savings even if he’ll continue to make a lot of money and our expenses will be lower.

I can just imagine all the stories they told in life! Hey, I always knew they were liars, just not the extent of it. “They brainwashed a lot of people,” I said to Tom.

“No, they fooled a lot of people,” he said. “Like with Judy mentioning an art collection. She had to have gotten that from somewhere as people don’t just pull something like that out of nowhere. Your parents had to have said something to make her think that.”

Well, I don’t think it ever existed. Obviously, that was another lie unless they once had something like it and sold it off to pay their debts and keep the false façades going. That’s why I didn’t understand Tammy being so pissed about Judy mentioning it. How is Judy to know what’s true and what’s not after they lived a lie for so damn long that so many people bought into? Yet she insisted she wanted to “get things off her chest” to Judy because Judy has a big mouth. “Nothing at all against Andy, but she needs to learn to keep her fucking mouth shut.”

I understand that Judy can sometimes resort to gossiping a bit too much same as my mother did as well as Charlotte and the whole damn bunch, but Judy’s just a sweet old lady who doesn’t mean any harm as far as I’m concerned. Yet Tammy says she never liked her and something about something she supposedly did a while back was “the final straw.” Something I don’t know about and that she wouldn’t tell me about. Personally, I don’t want to know anyway cuz it has nothing to do with me. As I also told her, I don’t know Judy’s address or phone number, not that I’d give her this info if I did know it. She asked about Andy and was glad to hear he was doing really well. All I told her was that they were in neighboring condos and Judy’s was up for sale.

Another thing she said (this one really shocked me) was that Mom and Charlotte’s friendship never ended. Really? But I could’ve sworn I was told mom dumped her several years ago.

Later…

Andy said I shouldn’t have accepted Molly’s apology, she doesn’t mean it, and I should’ve just deleted her questions.

Yeah, he’s probably right. She’s “apologized” before and never meant it. I’m surprised there were no questions from her yesterday.

It just hit me that it could be Jennifer. I hope it is. Then she can know exactly how I feel about her. Well, not about her so much as about her getting any money. But as far as Jennifer herself goes; she never did anything to me, so I have nothing against her.

I checked FB and saw that she went to college sort of near Reading where I got a visitor from. I noticed that she dropped her last name and is now going by just Jennifer Lynn, like she didn’t want to be associated with her last name. Can’t say I blame her!

I realize that I may’ve come across as rather harsh where Jennifer is concerned and given the impression that I’m angry with her or that I have anything against her. I don’t. She never did anything wrong to me. She did not ask or demand to be included in my parents’ will either, so to be angry at her would be both unfounded and pointless. To give her 15% may be a bit much and perhaps 5% would’ve been more reasonable, but as Tammy said, I am getting the majority of the money. She and Larry aren’t getting any at all, though Tammy is doing well and has stated she doesn’t want it.

I don’t feel bad for Jennifer’s father, though I feel bad for her because of her father. He was an absentee dad for quite a bit of her childhood, and I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if he became a stranger to her in adulthood.

First she lost her brother whom Larry favored being that he was both male and firstborn and I felt so bad for Jennifer because of it. I felt bad for Sandy, too. Sandy was always such a sweetheart. Yet Larry made both Sandy and Jennifer seem like second best. I don’t have to be a genius to know that he wouldn’t have taken it nearly as hard had it been Jennifer who was killed instead.

Secondly, she’s gotta feel awkward as hell over the fact that her father has “dated” minors and has thrown away his wonderful wife and daughter as if they were yesterday’s news. How ashamed and embarrassed for him she must be! Her future “step-mom,” assuming they really do get even dumber and tie the knot, is nearly a decade younger than her. Her “half-brother” will be nearly 3 decades younger. That’s gotta seem weird as hell!

Later…

I was going to post 10-20 pages a day of old journals on my-diary and LJ but found that to be a bit much. Then I decided on just a few pages a day, figuring no one would read them anyway, but I thought wrong. I was flattered to learn that a guy close to my age in San Diego finds it rather interesting to see what he was doing around the same time on the other side of the country, so I’ll keep on posting them. It just may not be as fast as I’d like.

He read about Valleyhead, researched it and found discussions about it. He agrees it sounds pretty fucking awful, and says he can relate to a lot of what I went through.

I’m also flattered to know, on another site, that I’m an inspiration for someone who has resumed their own writing. That’s quite a compliment! She’s a 34-year-old woman in Missouri and has already spent 3 hours on my blog.

“Guten Morgen. Wie geht es Dir,” I surprised Tammy with this morning when I called her. She knows I’ve learned quite a bit of German, but probably wasn’t expecting that, LOL. She’s still packing up the condo and finding it strange and creepy as hell being in there by herself. It’s still weird to me to know I just talked to them both less than a year ago and they were still with it and all that. sighs So sad in itself, but still infuriating to learn what I have learned the more their masks are peeled off.

The funeral is Sunday, so she’s got 4 days to fry the bitch. Mark and the kiddy lover will be down at the end of the week. Next Wednesday she returns home.

As I said before, I hope to hell we’ll never need it, but to know that Tammy would pay to fly us to her and take care of us till we got our feet on the ground should we ever go broke again, is a huge relief to know. She’s told me at least 3 times not to hesitate to pick up the phone and call her if we ever need help. Again, it’s a great feeling. No one wants to feel they’re all alone in the world or like no one gives a shit should they get in a desperate situation. But that’s the way it has been for the most part – those that care haven’t been in a position to help, and those that have been don’t care. Tom’s mother really put a complex on me the day she turned her own son and his wife away in one of their times of need (after we did so much for her and gave her so much money when we did have it) that it became really hard for me to reach out for help. Besides, the situation last year turned so bad that I didn’t think anyone could help us. I had no idea Tammy had this basement apartment and that she would have flown us to her.

I had said that there was nothing to say we still wouldn’t struggle throughout most of our lives, but there’s also nothing to really say we will either. Circumstances beyond our control will always arise. We didn’t make the economy go bad. It’s being prepared for those things that are out of our control that either make you or break you when the shit hits the fan in life.

I also spoke to Paula. She’s her usual self but sounds good. Meaning that she sounded perky and glad to hear from me. She has some medical issues, though, with her stomach and foot. I misunderstood, too. She lost 30 pounds, not 50. Still, that’s a lot of weight. Sentencing is right around the corner on the 3rd so she’s nervous about that.

I feel bad for Eileen. She and her husband have been having a super hard time with things lately.

It’s been surprisingly quiet these last two days. I expected chainsaws, engine gunning and more barking, but haven’t heard much of anything. It’s still pretty warm, though.

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 24, 2012 The woman who loved her husband but did not love her kids has died. She died last night at 6pm ET just one day shy of the day my dad died 7 months ago. First Dad, then my beloved pet, and then her. Makes me wonder – and worry – who could be next.

I picked up the voice message from Tammy when I awoke 4 or 5 hours earlier than I thought I would. I was so tired all day yesterday that I crashed a few hours earlier. I’ve been up since midnight. PT, that is. At around 6am my time I’ll call both Tammy and the attorney.

Back to Mom. Did she suffer in the end? Did she even have any sense of awareness? I wonder about these things. How hard was it on Tammy? Probably hard enough. Her voice sounded weary and strained. When I hadn’t heard from her by noon my time yesterday, I assumed mom held out till she got there, after all, unless she’d either killed or been killed by Larry.

Has Mom joined Dad in the afterlife? Are they at peace together there? Well, if they are then that would mean that the only ones to pay for the abuse she inflicted upon others in life are the victims. So while I know my dad may want to be reunited with her and while it may sound like a very romantic notion, I know he won’t be with her if she’s off somewhere else (in hell?) being made to suffer.

Then again there’s still always the possibility that there is no afterlife. Or maybe we’re reincarnated. Maybe she’s been reborn to a drug-addicted prostitute who will beat her ass every chance she gets. Guess we’ll never know any more than we’ll know who/what created the universe. Did God? Science says otherwise, but there still may’ve been a God behind the Big Bang. And does the same God rule just planet Earth? The whole solar system? The whole galaxy? Questions, questions, questions, but never any answers.

I guess it takes a few days for the spirit to get to where it’s going and to be able to do anything. At least that’s what I hear some people believe. Right now, though, she’s probably freezing her ass off in the morgue, but tomorrow (now today) she’ll be anything but cold when she has her date with the crematory folks.

How do I feel? Well, I still haven’t cried for her and I doubt I ever will. But as for any possible afterlife; I’m torn. Sure I’d like to see her with Dad and for them to live in peace for all eternity. But I’d also like to see her suffer for her abuse. I’m tired of watching every single person who’s ever wronged me, be it in a big way or a small way, up and get away with it as if it were nothing at all. No God, no law, no nothing, has ever made them pay for their offenses against me. This both angers and scares me because it leads me to believe that someone up there thinks it’s ok. It’s ok to screw over Jodi S. Well, it’s NOT ok, and I don’t care what any twisted God or law says. So yes, I hope she’s miserable if she somehow lives on in some other place and time, hopefully without haunting me in any way. I’d like to think she wouldn’t do that if she could, but when you consider what she did to me when she was alive, one can never be too sure. It’s part of why I refused her ashes. It seemed right to add Mom’s urn to Dad’s urn and have both parents together, but I refused her not just because I despised her but because I thought it might be a serious token of bad luck.

Bad things can and do happen to me just for minding my own business and trying to live life to the best of my ability. I’m not perfect, yet I do the best I can. Yet bad things still can and do happen to me. So why ask for trouble? If I can get into enough trouble without asking, I’d really hate to actually ask for it! It seems there are a lot of people out there who can get away with doing bad things, but if I just so much as dare think evil thoughts about someone, trouble heads my way. So I’m going to try to focus on more positive things.

Tom just got up and said he’s glad it’s over. Not just so that it won’t always be on my mind, but cuz he hates to see anything suffer no matter what they might’ve done. I’m glad it’s over too, though knowing how backward and unfair things are, I highly doubt she suffered much. I think she was too out of it to know what the hell was going on. Right now it’s me I’m worried about cuz if she’s coming after me she’ll “arrive” in a few days. Who knows, though, maybe it’ll go the other way around. Maybe she’ll feel so damn guilty for all she’s done that she’ll influence good to happen instead of evil. Like having the park call to tell us to come on down and pick out our new home. Really, I want to get the fuck out of here! Not just for obvious reasons, but the chainsaws are starting and so are the Jes pest and mutts.

The real Molly ended up apologizing to me yesterday, which was kinda funny. I thanked her but told her she’s got to promise that she’ll move on with her new life and that I’m just a boring old person anyway. But sure enough, she contacts me again to say she’s “moved on” yet creates another account. Brilliant. Typical Molly too, but at least I haven’t been pestered by Kim. That one’s even crazier. So crazy she could never apologize cuz she doesn’t know what the fuck she’s doing. Molly knows, but just can’t always help herself.

Later…

Made my first hard-boiled egg and it came out perfect!

Went to Kmart yesterday and ended up getting quite a bit for the $88 we spent. I once won a Rock Band keyboard that we sold for about $60 yet Tom got one for just $20. He plans to get a Wii sometime, too.

I got a couple of bottles of nail polish and a new silverware holder since ours is “peeling.” It’s made of wire that has a white plastic coating. But it’s so old that the coating is breaking off in pieces.

We also got a 3.5” digital photo display with a purple frame to put that idea I got from a dream to the test. I thought it would make a great night light for when I’m up at night to see my way around through to the kitchen and it does. It holds about 1000 high-quality photos but doesn’t shuffle through them, which is weird. It shuffles through the MP3s, though I don’t have any loaded on right now. It also has a calendar, clock and alarm.

Later…

“You knew this,” I tried to tell myself. “You knew God protects and rewards evil while letting the good suffer. You know He’s anything but a loving, caring God. You knew He would see to it that not only did his precious little child abuser not suffer on her way to the Pearly Gates, but that He’d let her screw you out of any serious money in the end, too. And He did. Both of them have added insult to injury and I don’t know who I hate more, Mom or God! Even Tammy’s pissed as hell.

Tammy swears she didn’t know Mom made these final changes until this morning, but that’s not what matters. What matters is that mom fucked me over in life and you would think that would be enough for her, but no, now she has to go and fuck me over from the grave, too. Apparently, I’m worth 40% to the bitch. Just 40%. Tammy says she gave up her share, while Walter, the family attorney, says mom removed both her and Larry out and said that I was to get 40% of the cash that’s left over when everything sells while each of her 4 granddaughters was to get 15%. Now I’m shitty with numbers so my first thought was that 40 was greater than 15 even if I still didn’t like it, particularly when it came to Jennifer. But after I had time to digest this info, I looked at the big picture as a whole. You mean her grandkids are 60% while her own daughter is just 40%?! The daughter she abused?! Fucking Jennifer hardly even knows she exists and Becky and Sarah can’t even stand her. Nothing against the kids, I told Tammy, who was very empathetic and understanding. She was just as pissed and she knew I would be pissed, too. It’d be nice if Jennifer could do the right thing and not accept what isn’t rightfully hers, but I know she won’t. So I would only get 4K out of 10K while these estranged grandkids she never abused get to pocket 6K. Now THAT really pisses the shit out of me, and I don’t care who doesn’t “get” it or who may call me “selfish.” If you didn’t know Dureen O, then you can’t possibly know how I feel.

As Walter said, he’d only heard what I had to say through Tammy so far and actually wanted to hear it from me directly, which is understandable, like when I said I didn’t give a shit about the furniture and jewelry. Our lovely mom said Larry, Tammy and I could split the furniture while Tammy and I split the jewelry. I wouldn’t be interested in these things even if I lived next door to the bitch, so I told Walter what I told Tammy – keep it. I guess the cradle robber made off with a valuable antique marble table, though, that he claims he wants to keep in the family (he and his child-woman moved back to MA cuz she missed her mommy), but Tammy doesn’t know what it’s worth. At least the unborn bastard won’t get anything. Therefore Miss Daddy Issues can have all the kids she wants with “Gramps.”

Tammy received her own slap in the face too, so she learned from Norma over the last few days. Apparently, when she was down there helping Mom when she broke her ankle, Norma called and asked where she was. “I don’t know,” was mom’s answer. That was really low of her.

I thought the store had sold, but I guess the buyer backed out of the deal saying it wasn’t worth it, so the store, store merchandise, condo and vehicles are all for sale. However, the bitch owes 97K between the condo and the loan she took out. She also had major credit card debt from when Dad’s medical bills started piling up, and then there’s store debt, too. There’s about 20K in-store merch. One of the vehicles, a 2006 Hyundai is worth something, but Dad’s 2000 van isn’t worth much. The condo is worth about 105K - 110K, Walter also said. So basically I could end up with anywhere from nothing to 5K - 10K. A part of me hopes I don’t get shit so that no one else gets shit, but I don’t want to lose out for anyone either. What I’m going to get for sure is unknown at this time. Walter has to go through everything, and until things are sold, his hands are tied. The only other thing I remember him mentioning is something about the condo being part of the trust or something like that.

Tammy’s at the condo gathering up what she thinks I would like. I offered to have Walter hang onto any shipping costs from my share, but she insisted on paying for it herself. She’s going to take it all up to CT and ship it from there. If there’s any good to not having moved yet it’s that I can just leave what she may send that I don’t want, and even she said not to worry if there’s anything I don’t want. I suggested she take pics of the stuff when she does get back, so she doesn’t waste time sending too much unwanted stuff.

While we were talking I mentioned the flowers.com GC I had won and the beautiful vase I had a flower or plant of some kind shipped to the bitch in. I described it to her and said it was a really pretty vase and I almost wished I sent it to myself (I should have!) and asked if she could get that for me. At first she didn’t know what I was talking about, but when I described the purple mirrored squares on it she said it sounded familiar and like something she’d seen around the place. So she dug through some shelves and found it.

She also asked if I wanted figurines she had of children by an artist named Jessie Wilcox Smith. I’d never heard of her since it’s been so long since I collected anything, so I looked her up online. Her stuff is ok, so sure, she can send them. As I told Tammy, I like realistic-looking sculptures and nothing too cartoonish. She said something about large, colorful portraits too since she knows I like bright colors and modern things. She’s just the opposite. She loves antiques and that rustic look, too.

She’ll also be sending photos. Most of Dad, of course.

I was pissed, but not surprised to learn she was comatose and went rather peacefully and painlessly, though I guess they pumped her full of morphine in the very end. Now her ass is freezing in the morgue till Tammy can arrange to turn the bitch to ashes and dust. I feel bad for Tammy haven’t so much to do on account of the bitch between packing up the condo and then getting the bitch fried.

Maybe if I’d abused children I’d have had a better life overall, since it seems it’s usually the assholes that live quite well while the good people suffer. She brainwashed an awful lot of people about an awful lot of things. She brainwashed people into thinking she was rich. Judy thought she was rich. Andy thought she was rich. Hell, I thought she was rich! Compared to the starving and struggling I did, though, she was until the very end. In reality, she was just comfortable as hell. She was never literally rich.

She also brainwashed an untold amount of people into thinking I was crazy and that that was why she sent me away when the truth was that she couldn’t deal with the problems I had which SHE created.

Sooner or later God’s gonna send someone to fuck me over so that I WILL be able to make deal with whatever problems they cause me. I WILL get justice for myself and punishment for them. Damn, do I hate that bastard for what He’s allowed to happen! And her, too! Oh yes, sooner or later He’s going to send someone my way with trouble in mind and not even He will be able to protect them!

All I had was ADHD and PTS brought on by the grief she caused me. That’s all I had. Yet she managed to convince tons of people that I was truly crazy. Now I don’t give a shit who thinks what, but when you’re just a kid it hurts like hell. The question is why she did it. Did she think it would bring her sympathy and attention since she couldn’t just tell people I was sick or had a broken leg or something like that? There was an even worse stigma back in the 70s and 80s toward “crazy” people, so I would think that crying “Crazy daughter!” would have lost her friends rather than gained her any sympathy or attention.

Another thing that used to piss me off about her was how seldom she would praise or compliment my accomplishments in life. Especially if it dealt with things she couldn’t relate to. When I published my first book – not a word. When I’d win writing contests – not a word. When I’d discuss my language learning abilities – not a word. Was she jealous or did she just not give a shit? Maybe a little of both. I may not be able to drive or keep a schedule and I may be shitty at a lot of things, but I’m anything but the stupid, crazy person she loved to brag I was.

I hope she’s rotting in Hell even if it means Dad has to do without her. Tom thinks they’re together, though, cuz he doesn’t believe in Hell. Maybe it’d be a good thing if Tom was right. Then maybe I wouldn’t have to worry about not only dying a slow, painful, and totally miserable death all alone, but I wouldn’t have to worry about being thrown into Hell because I wasn’t “bad enough.” Hey, stealing candy as a kid, telling a few tall tales, and making pranks simply wouldn’t be enough to earn me a ticket to Heaven if there was such a thing. No, you need to abuse children and treat your daughter like she’s only 40% of your life and like that’s all she’s worth in order to get to Heaven.

Well, Miss 40% still wishes the very, very worst upon her! Miss 40% still has people who love her and who recognize her strengths and not just her weaknesses, just like Tammy pointed out. Miss 40% will rise above these assholes and have a decent home someday, even though, as Tammy also said, home is where Tom is and our hearts are. Miss 40% will never forgive her mother, and God forever has Miss 40%’s undying and totally devoted hatred!

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 23, 2012 Getting more views from Florida and wondering if it’s anyone I know. Mary? A friend or family member? And who asked “Are you jealous of Tammy because she’s doing better than you?” on Ask? Molly? Kim? Someone else? My guess is Molly, so I deleted that question and “apologized” from her to me for stalking me out of jealousy. I suppose I really should just delete and ignore shit like this, though.

People have said that I should forgive my mother because if I do, then she’ll no longer have control over me. First of all, forgiveness is not a matter of choice any more than what foods, colors or music we like and dislike. Secondly, she doesn’t have control over me or my life and she hasn’t since the day I moved out on my own right before I turned 19. Sometimes I wonder if most people really encourage forgiveness in hopes that people will be quicker to forgive them when people get mad at them for whatever. Not saying this is the case. I’m just saying it’s not something I can consciously pick and choose to do at will. If you can, then wow. Just wow. You’re amazing.

When I was around 7 or 8 my mom was playing music in our living room one day. It was a song called Mama by Connie Francis. In a very melancholy voice, she sang of missing her dead mother and it made me very sad. The thought of losing my own mother, despite how abusive she could be, brought me to tears. I couldn’t imagine life without mom for all mothers abused their kids, right? That was perfectly normal, right?

Well, I haven’t heard back from my sister yet and I don’t know if my mom’s gone yet or not, but the me of today who knows what’s “normal” and what’s not, is not in tears at all.

Anyway, I’ll just be glad when all is said and done, but not as much as Tammy no doubt will be. She’s not doing well at all. She’s in poor health and the trips to and from Florida have been costing her a fortune.

Still no moving dreams and still not sure what I want. It’s easy for me to say I want a 1990 or newer place that’s 1000-1500 square feet cuz that’s sufficient space for two people and then there’d be less renovating to do. But if we go with an older place, we could make it exactly what we want it to be and save money on the monthly lot rent.

Pam, his coworker who lives there, told us something good and bad. The bad is that it may take a few weeks for the park to process our application. The good is that she says she thinks we’ll get in. She says she’s known of people who have gotten in with horrible credit and our credit isn’t “horrible.” It’s just not that good.

Tom’s gonna replace the brakes on the car soon cuz that’s another good and bad thing right there. Whatever park we get into won’t let you work on cars there. This is good since that is totally, totally annoying to have to listen to. The Jes pest is already running, gunning, beating and bashing that old truck of his and it’s so annoying to have to listen to at this distance. So to have people do this shit just a few feet away would drive me crazy. As it is I still think I’m going to hear enough barking dogs being walked around the park, people hanging out chatting, vehicles coming and going, landscaping projects, etc. Hopefully, none of it will be overly loud, though, and I’m sure that at night as well as when it’s raining or really hot, it should be pretty peaceful.

I was listening to electromagnetic vibrations converted into sound waves of the Earth and other planets. It’s awesome! Weird but awesome. I’ve always been fascinated by outer space and the endless possibilities of the various forms of intelligent life that could exist in other solar systems.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 22, 2012 Our connection is getting worse and worse. I worry about the day there’s no service at all and we call them just to be told the same old usual bullshit response of “everything’s ok,” after being on hold for 3 hours.

Tom’s gone to work and Tammy’s getting ready to head down to Florida. At first I didn’t understand why she wanted me to call her or why she left a message yesterday (I was asleep) now that she’s able to get online, but then she messaged me on Facebook.

She gave me the attorney’s number to call on Monday. I don’t know what much he can tell me, though, that I don’t already know.

Back when I lived in Phoenix, Tammy, Larry and I each pitched in to get Mom a ring containing our birthstones. She offered that to me but I’m not interested. Besides, it’d be too big on me and I don’t think I could sell it for much, especially in this economy. She also offered a small urn with mom’s ashes like what dad’s in, but I said what she said the rest of the family was saying – fuck no. I just burst out laughing to myself wondering what the fuck will become of her ashes that no one wants. Again, the fish in the ocean would certainly want her. Why can’t she just go there and put the $500 we’d save in cremation expenses in my pocket?

As I’ve said before, it isn’t about us needing money now; it’s about milking what I can from this abusive bitch who never did a day’s time for every kick, punch and slap she administered to me, let alone the depression and anger she also caused me.

If you could speed up this last year into just a few seconds, it’s like something pushed Tom and I out of the way of a flying bullet, and let my parents take the bullet instead for this year it’s my mother’s turn to be on death row. Only difference is that where our situation seemed 100% hopeless for a couple of weeks, hers is 1000% hopeless.

I was discussing with Tom how frustrating it is that we’re still here and might not be moving anytime soon, and I still wonder why. Is it really because something up there is trying to stop us cuz it wants us to stay in someone else’s tiny dump? Or is something having Tom get hit with all this OT cuz something really good is on the horizon? Or maybe even something really bad? I can’t imagine what bad could cost us the money we’ve got saved and are continuing to save, and I sure as hell hope nothing bad arises. That’s because if it did and it sucked up most of our money, that would mean it would be something really, REALLY bad. If this OT keeps up for the rest of the year we’ll easily have 11K in savings, and if it did it for an entire year (though we know it wouldn’t), he’d make 53K in that year. He may get paid biweekly, but this next check alone will pay two months of rent ($825)!

Other than the money, it just sucks that he can’t have a life. He’s literally going to have to take time off to move cuz they’re not going to give him enough time to do it otherwise. He said he could straighten the department out he’s in in a week and then they could not only afford to stop paying so much OT, but they could also afford to lay half the department off. But in case he was one of them, he’s in no hurry for them to catch on to their own stupidity. It’s kind of funny in a way. For years we wished someone would let him work somewhere in the first place, even if it was just part-time. Now his whole life is nothing but work, work, work. Sometimes one really does get what they wish for even if it may take a couple of years and be a bit overkill. Now can we please have a decent house that’s not as old as I am and that isn’t so damn small?!

The cock up the hill has been gunning his fucking truck on and off since 7am. Cock, you better hope the next people in here are a lot more tolerant than we’ve been or are stuck here like we have been for so damn long!

The Internet was out for a few hours, and then I got a call from Tammy. Mom may not even survive until she gets down there, but I’ll explain more about our talk in my next entry. It may be a while, though.

Later…

For one solid day, I bawled my eyes out when my dad died last February 24th. I still miss him at times. But I have yet to shed a tear for my mother, who has just hours left to live, and I doubt I ever will. The situation as a whole is what’s sad. So any sadness I do feel is mostly for Dad and the fact that two people’s entire existence can cease to exist just months apart. It was almost exactly 7 months ago that my dad died, and now my mom may not make it until Tammy arrives in Florida tonight. Her flight doesn’t leave until 3pm her time.

I often said I wished I were an only child since it would probably make my life easier, yet despite my past problems with my sister and my hatred for my brother, I appreciate them taking care of things, so to speak. Tammy’s taking care of the store and personal items. Larry’s hauling out furniture in a truck. Neither of us wants it anyway. If it weren’t for them, it’d just be one more thing for Tom and I to have to deal with.

I also appreciate (and Tom agrees) Tammy keeping me up to date on what’s been going on. I don’t think she did, but it’s still possible she screwed me over. We’ll find out eventually if anyone did. I doubt it, though. I am pissed off to know that Jennifer’s getting money for reasons I already mentioned before. The money is to be split between my 4 nieces and I, though Tammy’s given up her share. She said if Larry wants his share, that’s ok. Not by me it isn’t, though there’s nothing I can do about it if he does. Even the attorney said he didn’t know what the fuck dad was thinking when he wrote out the will, according to Tammy.

She also tells me Larry’s broke. Well, he should’ve thought about that before he went up and knocked up his child-woman and been smart enough to realize she’s too young and he’s too old to be parents. Maybe the little bastard (God would be kind enough to give him the son he no doubt wanted) will choke on something or the doctor will drop it when it pops out and break its neck. Whorebag or not, at least its father won’t beat it up or put it down so bad that it ends up feeling like the biggest, hopeless, ugliest, totally abnormal piece of shit on earth. Don’t know about her, though.

We’re actually surprised the bitch didn’t leave all the money to her mutt, though Tammy and Mark have come to really love the thing, LOL. Seriously, though, her dogs were always #1 and were always treated like gold. We envied them. If they peed where they weren’t supposed to, they at least didn’t get their asses beat.

Mom’s got the death rattle, Tammy said, and can barely swallow. How she doesn’t drown on her own spit is beyond me. I guess she’s either drying up or they’re doing something to keep her from drowning on it, though I don’t see why they would want to prolong the inevitable. Drown the bitch, nursing home people, will ya?

I wonder if she’s even got any awareness or if she’s suffering, and of course a part of me – a big part of me – hopes she is. I guess she opens her eyes at times and she kind of did this to herself cuz she didn’t want to live. Tammy said she didn’t take her medication cuz she was so depressed. She may’ve bossed the guy around to death, but she really did love my dad. No doubt about that. That’s the one and only thing I can understand is her depression. If I would kill myself – and I would – if I lost Tom after 19 years, I can just imagine how she would feel after losing someone she was with for 63 years. No amount of crushes, lust and attraction can sever us from our true soul mates. I wonder, though, is it just her consciously or subconsciously wanting to be with Dad, or is Dad also out there somewhere pulling her toward him as well? My guess is that if he could he would seeing how miserable she is. Fine, he can have her!

Anyway, it’s not an infection that’s going to kill her. I guess her organs are just shutting down. When Tammy and I spoke when the Internet came back on, she said there were so many emotions running through her. She said if it’s any consolation to herself, she can know she kept her promise to Dad. On his deathbed, she promised to look out for Mom. Dad may’ve put up with too much shit and looked the other way too often, but everybody loved him. Everybody. But ma – even Becky and Sarah hate her. Lisa doesn’t, though, cuz mom favored her and she knew it.

Tammy said that may be part of why it’s been so hard on her was because she saw the decline. She’s been there so much since Dad died that it’s different when you’re there watching it as opposed to hearing about it from afar. I can understand this much, and I told her that. I don’t know if I could or would pity Mom if I were by her side watching her die, but I’m glad I won’t ever find out. Soon it will be all over and Tammy can go back home and never again have to deal with Larry.

An odd sense of freedom is coming over me now, though I’m kind of emotional at the same time. Not emotional in the way I was when Dad died, but to lose both parents in less than a year is still a big deal no matter what kind of people they were. I feel “free” knowing that from now on if I get into a fight with any family members, I don’t have to worry about my parents being dragged into it and then taking it out on me. No more can people go running to mommy and daddy, and believe me, I intend to let a few people have it when this is all over. Jennifer, Polly and maybe even a message to Larry’s child-woman just because I know it’ll piss Larry off that I got through to his mistress through her friend. That’s the only way I can get through to her since she doesn’t allow messages from non-friends. Tammy will hear about it as will the rest of the family right down to the most extended of extended family members, but guess who doesn’t give a shit? It will be legal, non-threatening, and even swear-free, but I have something to say to these people and I’m going to say it and get things off my chest. I don’t intend to have any more problems with family ever again, though, cuz Tammy and I are either always going to get along or we’re not, and if there’s any trouble, I’m gone. Gone for good. No need to stick around and fight or argue when I can just not bother with her. She’d probably harass me every now and then, but one has to do what they gotta do.

Anyway, while most people mourn the deaths of their mothers by basically staying in bed and crying all day, I’ll be celebrating at Kmart tomorrow morning. Well, Tom and I actually decided on this before I learned the poodle may go bye-bye tonight. We deserve some fun for once. He’s been working his ass off, and I’ve been waiting around month after month for nothing (at least we got richer doing it), so Sally Hansen, here I come!

Tammy told me more about her house. It’s on 3 acres and she hardly hears her neighbors. No barking, dirt bikes and motorcycles. Why is it always me that has to listen to other people’s shit??? Mark grew up there and his family has land all over that area. The place isn’t all paid for but it’s close. There are 2600 square feet on the main floor (way too big) and that’s not counting the full-fledged apartment they’ve got downstairs that Becky once lived in. It’s got a full kitchen and shower and Tom and I would’ve been welcomed there when we were in the jam we were in last year, and always will be, she says. This is very sweet of her, and to say that Tom could work with Mark, but I’d hate that climate and don’t want to be that close to Tammy. We may not be the family underdogs anymore (OMG!) but we’re not the overdogs either. Mark makes damn good money and stays pretty busy with his construction business. Hey, I always said God blesses my perps, didn’t I? And I still think she was in on the let’s-get-Jodi times of the year 2000. She didn’t just have low self-esteem motivating her. She had the anger of being dumped motivating her as well.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 21, 2012 Tom was able to get ahold of the park people today and they said they were busy and got backed up in things and are going to process our application today. I still think they’re going to reject us. Meaning that I don’t think they’ll never let us buy a place in their park, but I think they’ll tell us we either have to clean up or establish credit first or both. This can take months.

We’re so frustratingly close yet so far from getting what we want, assuming we really can get any of the nicer parks to accept us. There was a 90s model for just 8K. It was in great condition, had the appliances we want, and was twice as big as this place. We get the impression the owner died and the kids are selling the place cuz the ad said they were even leaving their tools in their shed. We don’t quite have enough saved for this one yet. In a couple of months, we will. Now that Tom’s up I’ll see if he thinks it’s worth calling them and seeing if a deal could be worked out, assuming the park would accept us. Again, it’s not getting a place that could be a real bitch, it’s getting in the damn parks that they’re in! Unless we want to settle for the “sardine” park, and we don’t.

Later…

Nane got to take half the day off cuz they had a rough day at work yesterday. I guess their system was down and all they could do was hang around bored cuz the IT guy was on another job outside of Munich. Wow, if Tom got to take time off every time something went wrong at work, he’d never work! He’s tired as hell cuz of all the OT, but what a check we’re in for!

She asked about the park and how the credit thing works here.

Well, I guess Christiane is ignoring me (typical of the sane and pretty), cuz Tammy did reply. She’s leaving for Florida tomorrow to throw the poodle in the hospice. She’ll be meeting with the attorney to go through the store’s stock, and the pervert will be emptying the condo out and into a truck. Wonder how she feels about that. If it’s shit neither of us wants or could sell for much money, then it doesn’t matter.

While I still have no empathy for Mom, the situation is sad as a whole to think that two people and their lives can dissolve into nothing but a memory in less than a year.

As for the child-woman and old pervie, they both look like shit. And as I told Tammy, I say that because it’s true and not cuz I don’t like them. I would never say someone was dumb or ugly just because I was pissed at them because one doesn’t have anything to do with the other. Smart people and good-looking people piss me off just as much as ugly idiots. Nonetheless, she looks fat and plain and he looks like a criminal. Very scruffy, scraggly, unkempt and sloppy as hell. He wasn’t bad in his younger days, but I can’t believe any woman of any age would find the Larry of today attractive.

The itch to learn another language came over me and I started to study something radically different. Or so I thought. Even though I swore I’d never learn the Arabic language, I decided that since Urdu isn’t nearly as ugly as Arabic, I’d try that. But sure enough, it’s another fucking gender language! Is English the only non-gender bender in the world??? Screw it then.

I asked Tom if he would learn as much of as many languages as he could or if he’d try to perfect just one or two languages, and he said he’d go for the quantity. I can understand some French due to its similarities to other RL languages I’m quite familiar with, so maybe I’ll run through those courses on LM once we move.

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 20, 2012 So my newest admirer is Kay, who I just added on FB (Kaylyn G). As long as she isn’t batshit crazy (too soon to say for sure yet), she’s not bad at all but there’s no “spark.” You know how you can look at a person and think wow, they’re really beautiful, but that doesn’t mean you’d want to jump in bed with them? Well, she’s just pretty like a flower or a butterfly. You like looking at it but don’t want to do it. She seems to have a nice body and you usually need to be tall to have a nice shape like that, so I’m guessing she’s tall. Hair color’s a bit light, but I like its straightness. Can’t tell eye color, but I doubt it’s brown. Nane’s new competitor that isn’t! LOL

Ok, so she’s not male, not Lori-ugly, and not quite blond. But she is a little contradictory. On FB she says her mother “is her world.” On MO she described her as a physically and emotionally abusive bitch. She told me she prefers women, but “hates girls” on her wall. Maybe she means people her age. She said one of my recent pics with my classic “sunburned” face was beautiful. rolls eyes Okay, this should be flattering coming from an attractive 22-year-old, but I still prefer the older foreign chick. I realize the foreign thing is part of the turn-on. Nothing foreign about PA, though.

I never would’ve believed it if someone told me my online trolls would be crazy chicks instead of perverted guys. Guess it’s the benefit of being over 40. :))) Not saying she’s crazy, though…yet.

Can’t deny that the people you can meet online sure can be interesting. And the best part is that you don’t have to work with or live with any of them you decide you don’t like.

I don’t understand, though. You mean lesbians and bisexuals don’t want a damn thing to do with me when I’m young, skinny and pretty while the older and fatter I get I become “beautiful?” WTF??? I could kinda see Perez and TB cuz they were butches, but there isn’t a damn thing butchy about Nane and Miss Tats and Piercings. Tats are so-so, but I hate piercings that aren’t on the ears.

My message to Tammy is appearing as read on FB, but I don’t know if I trust FB and its little indicators. My last two to Christiane never appeared as read. Even if she didn’t reply, would Christiane ignore my messages? And why would Tammy? Unless something came up, I would think Tammy would’ve replied.

So does this mean she was just late getting back online and isn’t in Florida after all? She said she wasn’t taking her computer down with her, so I guess she’s not with the poodle after all. The poodle is Andy and my new nickname for her.

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 19, 2012 Getting really sick of these random weeknight outings of Jesse’s. As I know good and well, the barking won’t stop, since it’s dark out, until he returns. Well, that could be anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours to the wee hours of the morning. Man, I’m sick of this shit! Getting hit with it on weekend nights is bad enough. So now I can’t even have peace at night during the week some nights?! I don’t understand why no one shoots the fuckers even though they’d only be replaced within days. The people up the hill on the other side of him have to be just as annoyed, right? Or are they doing the same thing and leaving dogs out to bark at any given time? Well, we’re not going anywhere anytime soon, so someone needs to do something. I just don’t want to be the one to have to take responsibility for someone else’s dogs.

Anyway, I feel so bad for Tom yet we’re loving the speed our savings is growing at. They are working the holy shit out of him with killer 12-hour shifts. Again, I don’t know what the hell they bothered adding a second shift for if they’re not going to let them take care of things once 1st shift ends, but not even Mr. Optimistic himself thought we’d ever have money like this. He gets paid biweekly and we can practically pay all our monthly expenses including food and gas with one paycheck and still have money left over! While we seem to be stuck in a serious rut, it’s great not having to plan or budget and things like that.

But this doesn’t change the fact that I have a bad feeling we’re going to be here for a long time to come. He realized before he called the park that they couldn’t send us anything by mail because they don’t have our mailing address. So he called there today, but still couldn’t talk to anyone cuz the phones were down. The person told him that if he had an emergency they’d get ahold of someone, but since it wasn’t, all he can do is call back tomorrow. I find it awfully hard to believe the phones have been out for a whole week, so why can’t they just give us the bad news and let us get on with our lives? It’s kind of rude to keep people hanging like that and if they’re going to be either incompetent or make ridiculous demands of us, I don’t know that I’d want to do business anyway.

Tom says now that we’ve got enough money to make them a real offer, he just has no time to do so cuz he’s always working so damn much. The guy’s barely got time to eat, piss and sleep. I don’t think it matters, though, how much we can offer. The lot the place is on still has to be rented every month. So if they have a problem with those with less than perfect credit as well as no credit, then why would it matter whether we got a place for a grand or a place for 7 grand? Yet he says it does.

We still can’t get that nice of a place, though, no matter how much we can put down or even if we can buy it outright, cuz then we lose our security. If our expenses are more than they are here, then we can’t save as fast. The last thing I want to do is go back to living paycheck-to-paycheck or only be able to save $20 bucks a month. Being able to save $500 - $1000 a month has a way of spoiling you, and I don’t want to give that up by having a nicer place that ties up most of our money. Yeah, I’m tired of old, ugly places. Yeah, I’m tired of being cramped in like a little sardine. But we can’t have our cake and eat it, too. I’d still rather pretty up an older, cheaper place that we know would be at least somewhat bigger than this.

But that’s only if anyone out there will let us. If all the parks keep rejecting us, what do we do then? Stay here or get a place in the mainstream where the barking will not only be worse but we’ll be back having to deal with screaming kids and blasting car stereos as well?

It’s hard to believe the sardine park we liked the least wouldn’t be willing to work with us if we were willing to take a place nearly as small and as dumpy as this one, but that’s just the thing – I’m tired of settling! Whatever’s up there may not like me nearly as much as it liked my parents and I don’t expect to ever live nearly as well as they did, but I think my husband and I deserve a little better for once. No matter how much money we have, we don’t need to keep living like bums.

The cock up the hill left at 8pm. It’s almost 10pm. If the barking is still going on at midnight, then I’ll know it’s not coming back tonight. Damn God above for siccing this shit on me in every single fucking place I’ve lived in since I left the East!

Nane wasn’t ignoring me, just busy. She messaged me yesterday. She’s filling in for a vacationing colleague, then said something about expecting a lot of trades that day.

With all the sexism that still goes on toward women, I’m really surprised most men aren’t gay.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 18, 2012 It’s the 18th yet Tammy doesn’t appear to have been online at all today. Could she be in Florida already?

I was mistaken the other day in a previous entry when I said that Ronnie was favored because he was firstborn and male. Male yes, but firstborn, no. The cock’s actually several years younger than his abusive sister who I hope is suffering her ass off now.

I would have to be kidding myself or in serious denial to think that any God up there could possibly care about me in any way. But I’m not about to tell myself what I want to hear or what may sound good. I’m not only not an easy one to brainwash, lie to or bullshit, but I’d rather face the cold hard truth, even if it sucks.

So why is Nane ignoring my messages? I know she was on FB because she “liked” some photos and commented on them, but she doesn’t appear to have picked up my messages. Maybe the “message read” indicator is glitchy or maybe she’s just busy, but I doubt it.

Facebook may actually have a game I just might like for the first time ever. It’s a Bingo game that pays real cash and prizes if you win. What’s cool is that I can set it on auto-play instead of manual-play and let it play for me while I’m writing or whatever. Usually, I avoid their games because there’s nothing to profit from them and I just don’t get them. The games are laid out in a busy, complex sort of way that’s hard to figure out. I’m not even sure I understand how this Bingo game works. There are a lot of extras involved that are confusing. It’s not a simple, straightforward game.

One of their applications has caused me such headaches. They’re not only spamming the hell out of me, but it’s not the companies themselves that are spamming me, so I’ve learned. It’s someone advertising the companies that are making money by paid clicks. I stupidly clicked on the emails to unsubscribe. Then I contacted one of them today and asked why they were still spamming me. According to them, though, my email wasn’t even in their system. That’s when I knew something was up that had nothing to do with the actual companies themselves, and then Tom explained it to me when he came home from another looong 12-hour shift.

Ok, I figured there was a catch to this game. You can only play for money if you have a certain number of Bingo Bucks.

The weather’s slowly cooling down and we’re starting to have chilly nights and warm days.

Tomorrow we’re expecting bad news from the park. When he still hadn’t heard from them he realized they probably sent a letter of rejection and it was waiting for us in the mail. It hit him that they’d be required to tell us to fuck off in writing. Tom will be picking it up tomorrow.

It’s ridiculous to be rejected for a place that would cost less than what we pay here for money we don’t owe. Tom said he’s going to try disputing these scammers that have ruined our credit or maybe even freeze the credit, but the bottom line is the bottom line. You can’t make be what isn’t meant to be. The bastard above certainly can’t agree with what we’re doing or want us to own again. Why would we have lost two places in a row and then spent the last 8 years renting if that wasn’t what was meant to be?

There’s still an option to try to rent this place that’s kind of nice, but the place is even further from work and more than what we pay here. Besides, I still think we’d get rejected for that, too.

Tom assures me that the more our savings builds (and it’s building fast with all the OT) the less our credit will matter. Maybe so, but I still think we’ve got many more months to go here which totally sucks. I really wanted to get out before the daytime temps dipped under the 80s and Jesse came out to beat, bang, bash and rev whatever new motors and other toys he’s probably been itching to get out and build, and before I have to hear every goddamn chainsaw in the area and much, much more barking.

We don’t pay our perps. Period. We were legally forced to do so once, and I vowed never to do it again once I was able to take back my life from the sickos that seized control of it for years. I won’t do it. I won’t pay any scammers just to get ahead. Not by choice and not by any twisted law. I’m not going to be “punished” for trying to get something I want and I’m not going to be told what to do. No one can tell me I have to pay something I don’t agree with, want to pay or owe. Not any cop, not any court, not any civilian, not any scammers!

There’s an even worse possibility and that’s the black bitch in Arizona. The bullshit was supposedly pled down to a misdemeanor but if there’s any way they can find out that the case pertained to a neighbor, then this sick bitch may still be controlling my life even after all these years. We don’t think this is the most likely case, but I swear I’ll go down and kill this brazen, hateful little fuck if it is! I’m sure I wouldn’t have to look hard to find wherever the hell she is. She would gladly die for me if it meant I may go down for life.

Ended up twisting what Alison and I think are probably Molly’s words, and it seems to have scared them off if only for a while. She confirms, once again, that Molly can get online. She may not be able to do it as much and maybe only at set times, but she’s reactivating and deactivating (probably so she can’t be blocked) her FB accounts and has been harassing her, Dustin and Regina. She’s “lonely” and “homesick” and so she wants Aly’s attention.

The group home, which I’m sure is unaware of Molly’s behavior, should never allow their crazies online access. Did they forget what kinds of people they house there when they added the Internet? If she gets to be more of a problem I wonder if they would help me if I contacted them. I highly doubt they’re aware of her online behavior. I doubt they’d help me, though. What could they do? Take her laptop away? Block my sites for her? Then again, if she’s in their custody, then she’s their responsibility, right?

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 17, 2012 Today’s “question” was: no i meant what i said you deserve all the bad things you get but i do feel sorry for you dear.

But that still makes no sense. If you hate someone enough to feel they deserve bad things, then why would you feel sorry for them? My first thought is that Kim or Molly is behind it or even Molly’s mother. Mrs. M wouldn’t write that poorly, though, with no caps or punctuation. I also realize it could be from some random joker or someone I haven’t considered. Maybe it’s Lisa. Or maybe it’s Alison. Maybe Alison is just as crazy as Kim, though she certainly doesn’t seem to be. Just her job alone says she can’t be that unbalanced or off in any way. The military simply doesn’t deal with the likes of Kim. It’s had some angry, trigger-happy folks at times, but not usually people with MPD.

I deleted the question, but am sorry I did. I thought of a brilliant idea: to twist their words. I’d have to copy it first, then delete it and re-ask the question, but why not add: I hope someone kills you? Maybe that’ll drive them away since they obviously don’t have the guts to say who they are and why they feel so hateful.

My allergies are better today, but they sure drove me crazy yesterday. My nose didn’t run much, but I had random sneezing fits till I finally took a Benadryl.

We were surprised not to hear from the park today. Could this be a good thing? Tom thinks it might be and that they’re waiting for an ok from the individual sellers. If he hasn’t heard from them by Wednesday, he’ll call them. I’m gonna be pissed if they say they misplaced our application or something like that, though it’s better than a rejection. They obviously haven’t called Andy or Jesse cuz they’d have said so if they did. We asked them not to call Jesse till we’ve officially gotten a place because we don’t want him to know we’re moving till we go to give our 30-day notice. Tom still thinks we’re moving this year. I don’t know what to think anymore.

They’ve been running him ragged at work again. What’s the point of implementing a 2nd shift if they’re still going to OT 1st shift so much? He said they’re just stupid. I then suggested he think of transferring to the second shift since I know he prefers it to first. He said he wants to move while on 1st shift because coming in so late may reflect horribly on us with our new neighbors.

But he’s not the only one there who will work and it’s not like he’s going to come in blasting music and honking horns, so I don’t get what he’s worried about. He said most of the people there aren’t going to be working, but so what? His neighbor worshiping really annoys me. We haven’t even gotten and met the new neighbors yet and already he’s putting them before us and worrying too much about what they’ll think or how things will reflect on us. I reminded him that he can’t control people’s minds, thoughts and actions and so he shouldn’t worry about it. Maybe he’ll “reflect” horribly in their eyes cuz he has a shirt the color of dried shit. Anything we say and do could offend someone, somewhere at any time. That’s why I exercise good judgment within reason in my blog, but I’m not going to not write just because someone may take offense to my saying pink is a lovely color. Really, it just seems so stupid and pointless to worry about others so much. We don’t owe them anymore or less than the basic niceties in life we’d give anyone anywhere.

Also, when have we ever had working neighbors? He worries about coming in too late cuz most of them will be retired, yet none of our neighbors worked for the most part. They didn’t work in Phoenix. The renters in back of our Maricopa house and the Mexicans to the side of it were always home. The duplex people were always home in Oregon. The only one that occasionally worked was Kim, the chick next to us in the dumpy house we rented, also in Oregon, and she worked nights. Jesse’s been out of work for the most part, so I find it hard to believe that he’ll suddenly start looking bad in people’s eyes if he worked 2nd or 3rd shift.

I wish he would think of his own health and happiness first. Why use days off to move that could go towards vacations or just vegging out??? To please a neighbor that wouldn’t even hear him anyway as quiet as he is makes no sense at all. I don’t go out of my way to go above and beyond what’s expected of me or to give any extra privileges to anyone I don’t love or care about or that isn’t as good-looking as Nane. Well, no one there is going to look like Nane! If they asked us not to tend to yard work at certain times like Kim did because she slept during the daytime, fine. I can work with someone who politely makes a reasonable request like that. But why assume things and put others first???

It still pisses me off that my parents couldn’t even leave us a few grand, but hey, they just weren’t rich. I don’t doubt, however, that they spent most of their lives very comfortably until the economy went to hell and the medical bills started piling up. I still don’t feel the least bit guilty over resenting them for living high while I went hungry when I first got to Arizona. I really thought I was going to starve to death for a while there!

But we’re far from poor. Tom was looking at RVs and other vehicles just for the hell of it and found many 30’ RVs and cars from the 2000s up that we can easily afford yet still have a savings.

I forgot to say that Andy reminded me that the Middle East includes Israel, so I should be more specific about who I’m talking about. You know, when I say I’m sick of the shit they pull in the Middle East? Well, I ain’t talking about Israel!

I also realize I should be careful not to give people the wrong idea where my friends are concerned when posting old journals no matter how far back in the past it may be. When I first started journaling I wrote for me and me only and in a way that only I understood because I never expected to share them with anyone. I personally don’t give a shit how people perceive me and what conclusions they may come to, real or imaginary, but I realize I should watch what I post about others or at least how it’s worded.

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 16, 2012 I developed a new system for posting old journal entries. I proofread an entire month at a time and then I can just throw the whole thing online. I’m going through December of 1993 now and in one of the entries for that month, I mention my mother getting a job in an office and her saying she’d prefer not to have to work, and then I remember Tom saying just the other day that no one goes back to work after retirement because they want to. She wasn’t quite 65 yet, but still. The more I think about things and the more I learn, the more I realize that yes, they were upper class for the most part, and yes, they were comfortable as hell most of their lives, but clearly they were never “rich.” I don’t know why some people ever thought they were. Maybe they misunderstood, were falsely informed, or just “felt” they were rich in comparison to themselves.

A year ago today – yeah, it was exactly one year ago today that disaster struck – I’d have looked at the me of today and thought they were rich as hell, too.

Speaking of one year ago today, it’s a rather emotional anniversary of sorts filled with mixed emotions – anger, sadness, thankfulness… I couldn’t stand to read back on much of my journal entries from that time, but oh how I remember those feelings! The anger, the fear, the sadness…

Why us? I kept asking myself this. I’m grateful to have survived, but I still wonder how many more times we’ll be teased about our survival like that. I still believe something up there wanted to kill us while something else saved us in the end. But who/what, and why?

Again, I’m thankful to have not only survived but to have gotten so far ahead so fast despite the horrible memories I’ll have to live with of the stress and the intense emotions that I felt during that time on “death row” as we were for those 10 days or so. Never before had any situation looked so utterly hopeless. I know we can’t live forever, but it seems that no matter what’s going on and no matter what age we are, we always try to fight death whenever it comes too close to us. Instinct simply kicks in and takes over whether we like it or not.

Later…

1993 is all posted now, so here goes 1994. I’ll try to get January on tonight so long as the net doesn’t go out for 5 hours like it did last night.

Someone (Molly? Kim?) said on Ask: you deserve all the bad things you get.i feel really sorry for you.

I told them: You contradicted yourself. You obviously meant to insert the word “don’t” either after the word “you” in the first sentence or after the “i” in the second. Which was it?

I also received quite a compliment from a 22-year-old with a broken heart in Pennsylvania who spent an hour on my blog. She said she found it intriguing, asked how I got started, and said she was going to read it all.

Had a chilling thought earlier. I’m sure I’m just being paranoid, and I still don’t even know that was a real pig that contacted me last January, though I don’t doubt it was connected to the black bitch. But what if they’re waiting for us to get settled in our own place where the Internet is in our own name? That’s what they did last time. Just one week after we finally left the hotels and got settled in Maricopa they were on me. What if the idea is to wait till we get moved, spend most of our savings getting into the new place, and then legally kidnap me when they think I’ll be left with no money for a defense?

I know it sounds paranoid as hell. As soon as they could’ve picked me up, they would have. But I’m not only out of their jurisdiction, I haven’t done anything illegal. At least not illegal enough. The anti-spam policy clearly states one must send thousands of emails to be punishable, not a few dozen.

I still think they altered something I sent either on their own or with the black pig’s help. Probably with his help. Still, I’m up here and they’re down there. And that’s the way it stays!

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 15, 2012 I’ve decided it’s about time I stop being so damn nice and worry about what others may think of what I say in my blog. After all, I don’t care what they think of me, so why should I worry about what they think of my blog? I have suppressed some of my views on some things, like the human killing machines in the Middle East despite the fact that millions of others have freely expressed theirs, simply because I didn’t want to offend this one or upset that one or whatever. Well, no more! It’s about time I stop being responsible for other people’s feelings because A, they’re not my responsibility. B, no one’s being forced to read this at gunpoint. C, I’m not threatening or harming anyone by expressing myself, nor am I breaking any laws. So, while I may come off as defiant and defensive if anyone so much as dares to think of violating my right to say what I’m going to say, I will sue you senseless. Really, I will be the first thing that comes to mind whenever you’re asked what you regret most in life. Forget about buying a trailer in a park. I’ll be able to buy the whole damn park when I get done with anyone that might try to make trouble for me simply because they can’t handle it or don’t want to hear it or they might feel they’re entitled to seek vengeance because I wasn’t afraid to “accurately rate” them on a particular site once upon a time. What can work in the past doesn’t always work in the future. Especially when that once naïve-to-the-law person ain’t so naïve anymore. Oh no, this one fights back and doesn’t succumb to any stupid traps or bluffs, nor to any lies, false promises or threats cuz she knows they’re all bullshit anyway.

Sometimes it’s best to just cut your losses, admit you can’t always get the last word, and let dead dogs lay. Besides, if you didn’t have a guilty conscience and weren’t guilty of anything you wouldn’t care what I said about you, right? Right? Yeah, you don’t think I knew about you lurking in the shadows as you have been, but I’ve seen your every move within my account. Again I ask the same question I asked years ago, who’s the real stalker? Well, mark my words – you do not scare or intimidate me, and trying to scam and or scare me on behalf of your buddies won’t do you any good either but get you in trouble if it happens again. You really need to grow up, get a life, and get over the past. You were fired with just cause and now it’s time to move on. If sales are where you’re really meant to be in life, why not go with it, make the best of it and stop trying to “resurrect” what can never be again? You had your chance once. You blew it. Now move on. You won for a while there and then you lost. You used and abused your position without a care as to how it may affect others. You took your anger over the past out on others, including me. You made mountains out of molehills. You read things in that weren’t even there. You jumped to false conclusions. You treated little, harmless offenses like it was murder. You helped make a lot of people miserable. The end result: No one feels sorry for you so get over it.

Just wanted to give any potential troublemakers fair warning, though I am probably being unnecessarily defensive in a way that only one who has walked in my shoes could understand. I don’t go out of my way to offend people, but I’m also not so willing to aim to please either. Not in my own blog anyway, that people choose to read on their own. You don’t have to like it. You don’t have to agree with it. All you have to do is respect my beliefs, feelings and opinions, as you would want others to do with you. If you don’t want any trouble, don’t make it for others.

I’m not playing to an audience here. I’m not out to “entertain” anyone. I’m only out to share my experiences in life and the feelings and thoughts that go with them. If anyone happens to find any of it enlightening or funny along the way as a “side effect” to me sharing what I share, fine. It is also fine if someone doesn’t like my saying I’m sick of the shit these crazy, extremists in the middle east have pulled year after year, decade after decade. They really have a way of making other groups that can get rather feisty seem like pussycats. Their latest outburst over a stupid film after we have given and given to them while forfeiting our own has me enraged, ashamed and embarrassed as hell for them. They disgust and sicken me, and no, I don’t feel sorry for the kids there either. Those “innocent” kids are going to grow up to be the same monsters the adults are at the rate they’re going. They are like two-year-olds throwing violent temper tantrums. Why is it that some groups think the way to solve their anger issues or other problems is to riot and take it out on innocent people??? How can they possibly think that’s going to fix things or gain their acceptance? I’ve seen films and other things that have offended me plenty yet I don’t go around destroying property, setting fires and killing people. Oh, and one more thing – if they hate us Americans so damn much then why don’t they get the fuck out of this country?

Slept great on the new mattress. No backaches or anything like that. Just the usual slew of negative/weird dreams. As comfy as the mattress is, it doesn’t have much bounce for a coil spring mattress. It’s a very firm, rock-solid mattress. I’m sure I’d have complained it was too firm back in my skinny days. They’re amazingly quiet, too. Usually, when someone’s moving next to you, you can hear the coils creaking, but not with this thing.

Got a great idea for a night light in one of my dreams. In the dream, I was showing someone a huge screen saver I had that was the size of an average mural. Well, we certainly wouldn’t need one that big since it doesn’t take that much light to see your way around, but I think I may get one of those digital photo frames after the move and keep it in the kitchen or living room. Then instead of leaving the stove light on, we could use that.

I had dreams of Cousin Philip and his phony mother because they were on my mind after talking about them with Tammy.

Then I was in this strange room that was quite cramped. It had a lot of stuff in it. I guess it may’ve been a bedroom of sorts. I was supposed to sleep in the bedroom next to it but wanted to sleep in that one for some reason. I was about to block the light in the window since it was daytime, but as I approached it I saw a few people that seemed to be looking for me. I didn’t want them to see me so I tried to hide under the blanket.

Had a few quick dreams of Nane, but all we did was scream at each other. In one dream she asked to check out my pink iPod and accidentally erased what was on it, so I screamed at her for that. Then she got pissed at me because I forgot to bring over some donuts or cakes I had promised to bring over. I laughed and said I’d remember to poison them first next time and she glared at me for that one. Then she accidentally dropped my iPod and I let her have it for that, too. A split second later I was relaxing in her bed with a rat curled up by my side and she ran into the room screaming for me to “get that fucking thing off her bed!” LOL

I am so pissed off right now. The net’s been out cold for about 5 hours. I just might be ready to settle for a carbon copy of this dump in that cramped park just so I can have decent Internet service!

Maliheh finally picked up my email. But it says she made only 1 view, so does this mean she only opened one of them? Either way, she really hasn’t turned out to be a very good friend. It’s like she’s only a partial friend and a part-time one as well. It’s like she was willing to finally be my friend, but only if she could keep me at a distance by not talking on the phone or adding me on Facebook. Then there are the long silent spells too, though I’d still rather that than be smothered like Marie used to love to do.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 14, 2012 I forgot to mention that Tom was telling this new lady at work that we’re looking for a place in a 55+ park. The woman said she couldn’t wait till she was old enough to do that too, which is something she’s wanted to do. The lady asks Tom where we’ve been looking, he tells her, then her eyes light up at the mention of the “cramped” park. Turns out the manager that we talked to there is her brother. She said we should go there and that we’d get a “really good deal” there.

Yes, we would. But that’s because it’s kind of a dumpy park. I mean, it’s well-manicured enough, but the trailers are practically touching each other and many of them are old, rundown dumps much like this. That park would only be for if we couldn’t get anything better but still wanted to own and save money. Those lots are only about $400 a month.

I still worry the nicer park is going to reject our application and that we’ll end up there, but no park is as nice as the Diamond K Estates with all the newer double-wides and garages. None of their places are under 40K, though, and if they are it isn’t very often. We’d have to stay here till he was 60 to save to get in there, thanks to Mommy and Daddy who aren’t going to look out for me in death any more than they usually did in life. We could actually save faster for one of those places in a park that was moderately expensive as opposed to this place. IDK, maybe when he retires, though I won’t count on it.

I spent several hours posting from late October 1993 to early December 1993 since I hadn’t posted old stuff in a few days. I’ve often wondered certain things about the future and people would often respond by suggesting I just let the future take care of itself. I had to laugh at that one when I wondered 20 years ago what would become of my journals. Well, little did I know they’d one day be available for the whole world to see. Not every single word of them, but most of them.

Later…

Tammy called back, although she didn’t leave a message. Deciding it must be important, I returned the call shortly after I got up. She starts off about Mom’s condition and the doctors hopelessly trying to fight it with antibiotics through an IV. I ask her why they’re bothering to fight it if they know it’s hopeless, but it’s supposedly to keep her more comfortable. I guess they also called her asking permission to give her something to help ease her pain and she okayed it. Another classic example of how God goes out of His way to protect His perps and to bless the evil with all kinds of comfort. Had it been me I’d have told the nurse to let the bitch suffer. Besides, aren’t they getting tired of being asked for beer and dates with the hairstylist?

The sooner the bitch is cremated, the sooner we can seek closure of sorts and get on with our lives. She says there’ll be a small memorial and that she’ll give a eulogy like she did with Dad. Even though they won’t be buried, both will have gravestones side by side. Poor Tammy still has to deal with what goes in the newspaper and clearing out the rest of the condo and shit like that.

I’d tell the paper she was a child abuser, throw her body in the ocean, and then pocket the money the cremation would’ve cost.

Anyway, she goes on about her health and I eventually stopped her and said, “With all due respect, sis, I just don’t give a damn. I really don’t.” At the same time, I do appreciate her keeping me up to date with things in general.

Andy said Judy said they had a prized art collection worth a lot of money, but it was news to Tammy when I asked her about it. She agreed it would be wonderful if they did, though. If they ever had such a thing it’s long gone. I never saw anything like it the two times I visited them in Florida in 1988 and 1990.

I told her the rumor was that she inherited a fortune from Nana and Pa and she said that’s not true and that it was Ronnie that actually got most of it. Ronnie was the favorite, and I know for a fact he inherited their exterminating business. I don’t doubt for a minute that Nana and Pa favored Ronnie. The firstborn tends to be favored anyway, especially if they’re males. She got enough money to get down to Florida, plus there was money from the house in MA that sold for something like 180K, but that was pretty much it.

Also, I was always under the impression that Medicare paid most of their medical bills, but apparently, that’s not so. She’s seen the many medical bills Dad left behind.

I didn’t know what to think at first, but everything she’s said so far has checked out so I don’t think she’s being dishonest in any way because we’re able to verify most of it online.

Tom said he doesn’t think my folks meant to lie or lead me on about an inheritance and that more than likely they were just naïve. Meaning, they couldn’t have had any way of knowing that the economy would devalue so many things like it has and that they’d have so many medical bills. I will be the first to admit my folk’s abuse didn’t usually involve lies, but it’s still a huge letdown. I’m sick of being teased with money! But I knew deep down since 2007 when other things fell through that God would see to it that we never received much more than 10K at once. If we’re still meant to be poor most of our lives, even though that’s looking less likely by the minute, He’s not going to let us have big bucks. Anything “big” is going to be what we work for and save, if we don’t win it or end up suing someone for some reason.

As we both agreed, we never liked our uncles. Both of them were just aggressive bastards who didn’t give a shit about anyone but themselves (one is dead). Except for cousin Philip back when I lived in Springfield, our aunts, uncles and cousins have never given a shit about us. Speaking of Philip, he’s living with Ruth in Florida. I was surprised to hear this. Isn’t he around 50 these days? I am a bit disappointed, though, that he never tried to look me up, but oh well. I’m used to the “family” not caring for the most part. I’ve only seen my mother twice since 1990. Once was in South Deerfield in 1991, and the last time when she and Dad drove to Phoenix in 1997 since mom has a fear of flying.

I was wrong in saying she saw Norma. She actually called her. I guess she and Mom were close for a while. She didn’t hate my mother but she hated what she’d done. She even tried talking to her. rolls eyes Look what good it did. But as most of us know, you can’t “talk” someone into being a better mother. Just like you can’t tell yourselves or others what to think, feel and believe, you can’t make a better mom with words. People can be influenced by others, but only they can change themselves. I don’t hate God because someone told me to. It was my experiences and seeing things like tsunamis instantly wipe out thousands of lives that influenced and honed my hate, along with events such as a 13-year-old rape victim in the middle east that ends up stoned to death while her rapist goes free.

She asked if I wanted anything from the condo, but again, her clothes and shoes are too big for me, we’re set on kitchen stuff, and so there’s not really anything we could use. She did say she’d send some knickknacks. I said that was fine, but not to worry about it. She knows I like bright colors, particularly pink and purple and modern things instead of antiques and earth tones. Sheets and towels are always nice too, but only if they’re in mint condition.

I didn’t think to ask what would become of her wedding ring or what became of Dad’s, but if she kept them, fine. Unlike most women, I was never big on things like jewels, furs and trips to the salon. My hair probably won’t see a pair of scissors till I’m 50 anyway.

Later…

Tom stopped at the mail place and Burger King after getting off work after 10 hours instead of 12. The fries were ok, but the chicken strips were a bit peppery. I couldn’t eat it all anyway since I’d had some clam chowder before he arrived, not knowing he was stopping for fast food on the way home.

No calls from the park and no letter from the attorney, but the new mattress is here. After I did some things I needed to do, it was so nice to relax on it after sitting at the computer for hours. It’s amazing that they can roll a 13” thick mattress into such a small duffle bag. It was a bit of a struggle getting it out of the bag, but once we did and cut the plastic seal, it started hissing as it began sucking in air. It was neat seeing it expand in just seconds, though it says it can take up to 48 hours to fully expand. It’s the perfect height for the headboard shelves because there isn’t enough of a gap for pillows to slip under it. I may still live in a trashy trailer but I sure as hell don’t have a trashy bed anymore! The mattress is firm enough to give me the support I need but doesn’t leave me feeling like I might as well be sleeping on the floor. The surface of the mattress isn’t too slippery so sheets should hold in place well and not slip and bunch beneath me.

Tammy’s youngest daughter turned 22 today. She asked about my doll collection and what I got for the ones I sold. I guess Becky’s really into the Twilight series (I’ve never seen or read any of it) and she and Sarah have gotten a lot of stuff on eBay. I told her to tell them to be careful of eBay and all the scams they’ve got going on and that they’re better off with Amazon.

Someone (Adonis?) said they didn’t get how I wouldn’t miss my mom. Yeah, I suppose if I had a loving mother I too, wouldn’t get how anyone could say they wouldn’t miss their mom. A part of me wishes I could be all emotional and balling my eyes out with tears of sadness over her impending doom and that I had this loving mother I would miss like crazy, but just like I’m determined not to let people’s precious little eggshell-like feelings stop me from expressing myself over things like the muzzies in the middle east, I’m not going to lie, play down or sugar coat my mom either. The woman was just plain mean, period. She was evil, negative, selfish, domineering, controlling and even scary till I was around 12. No doubt about it! So even if I wanted to shed a tear when she goes belly-up and even if I wanted to miss her, I couldn’t if I tried.

My one and only funny memory of the bitch was when I was quite young, like somewhere in grade school. One day we were getting ready to go somewhere. She put on her bra, she put on her underwear, and then she put on her shirt. Next she goes and does her makeup. Then she slips her shoes on, picks up her purse and declares herself ready. That’s when I burst out laughing. Yeah, the dipshit forgot to put her damn pants on!

I finally started having mobile home dreams which I’m hoping means we’re getting closer as the lack of dreams has pretty much been a sign that we weren’t close enough. I always “see” things in dreams right before we find a new place. In one dream I was admiring one with shutters outside the 4 or 5 windows that ran along one side and how they alternated in colors of pink and red. Only problem was that the place wasn’t in a park. It was in the woods.

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 13, 2012 Forgiveness may take away an abuser’s power over us, as many believe, but forgiveness is also not a conscious choice. I couldn’t forgive my mom if I wanted to. Our emotions and beliefs aren’t something we can simply pick and choose at will. Wouldn’t life be grand if they were?!

Meanwhile, I didn’t disclose in public much detail on abuse suffered by siblings or other people because I figured it wasn’t my place to do so.

Woke up to two things that put a smile on my face. A message from Nane and a voice message from Tammy basically letting me know that Mom now has a foot in the grave. She didn’t use those exact words but is going to be making arrangements to fly back down to Florida. I didn’t call her back only because I didn’t think it was necessary, though I appreciate her keeping me up to date.

The woman who ate lobster and other gourmet foods on a regular basis while her daughter struggled to make her food stamps last so she could eat cheap, fattening crap is on her way out of this world. Coincidently it’s right after the “influencer” went on an emotional rampage and mentally beat the crap out of her.

I am both thrilled and worried about her upcoming date with death. I’m thrilled for obvious reasons and I hope to hell she suffers miserably in the end as well as in the afterlife if there is one. But I also wonder – could she and would she make my life hell from the afterlife? Well, I don’t know if she could, but I suppose that if she had no problem shitting on me in this life, why not the afterlife? And if God thought it was quite ok here, why not there?

I don’t know what I feel more for my sister, sorry for her or grateful to her. I’m so sorry she has to disrupt her life yet again on top of her health problems and go down and deal with more of this evil bitch’s shit, but I’m grateful as hell to her that she is because I could never do it myself if I lived down the street.

As I told her, to each their own, but I’m not a do-right-by-God kind of person. I do right by my husband and cleaning up after my abuser just wouldn’t sit right with me.

For as long as I remember BOTH mom and dad have assured me I’d get a sizeable inheritance. It’s the least they could’ve done for their abuse. But mom just had to overspend while dad just had to give in to her every whim, and now, even though we’re doing very well indeed, we don’t get shit. But whether or not we’re poor as can be or just ok or rich as hell isn’t the point. It’s being lied to and not getting any form of “compensation” from those that have burned me that really pisses the shit out of me.

There’s also no saying what I’d do to Larry if I were there and he stepped out of line. As it is I suggested Tammy not go to the bitch’s place to clear it out (I thought it was already empty but apparently not) without the attorney present in case he tries to attack her. She has medical problems that don’t exactly leave her in very good shape, and since the police care more about what people say than what they actually do, they probably wouldn’t arrest his ass if it did go a little whacko on her, and would “justify” it by excusing his behavior on account of his state of mind over losing his mother.

Enough family drama. Although Tom’s doing OT like crazy and making us richer by the minute even though we may not feel it living in a trashy old trailer, I’m worried that we’re going to be stuck here for many more months to come while our lovely God throws even more curveballs at us to keep us from owning again. When he was dropping off our park application he overheard Sandy, the woman, he spoke to, tell someone on the phone that they couldn’t be flexible with those with no credit. We chose not to bother with credit years ago. We could establish credit if we had to, but that would take months.

The barking that’s usually reserved for weekends was an issue last night, but the Jes pest didn’t stay out overnight. Still, I wish he would just stay the fuck home so I don’t have to throw on sound machines to deal with it! All my other neighbors I wished to hell would go out more often. This one needs to stick around more often.

Later…

Accidentally “ran into” Donna’s equally evil sister Margaret. Facebook always shows people it thinks you may know, and since she was affiliated with VH, up her profile popped. I sent her a message letting her know I was glad to see she wasn’t working with kids these days and took her on a little trip down Memory Lane with the way her dear sister ostracized me and made me feel ashamed for jumping and almost sorry I didn’t do more than just bust an arm.

She reacted by blocking me. I noticed this when her profile pic was no longer visible within the list of those I’d messaged. No reply, not even any visit to my blog that I know of, she just put me out of sight and out of mind, LOL.

I also noticed that Maliheh’s profile pic changed yesterday so she’s definitely alive. I just don’t get her at times. Again, I don’t want to chat with her or anyone else every single day, but why the long absences?

Is she disabling cookies when picking up my email, or has she just not checked them in that long? It does seem kind of odd to think she’d go this long without reading my messages. I thought she once said that she reads them every few days.

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 12, 2012 What’s up with Nane? She hasn’t picked up my FB messages, but she was on my blog. I know she was on FB, though, since she “liked” some pictures someone posted. It could be a glitch in the notification system, but why do I get the feeling that she didn’t want to pick up my messages because she knew I would know it if she did? Yet she doesn’t know I know if she goes to my blog. This suggests she may have a problem with my rage toward my mother, but doesn’t want me to know it, and may figure that the best way to try to hide it is to not pick up my messages. Yet she’s still curious, so she goes to my blog?

Well, I hope she’s just busy and that my not hearing from her has nothing to do with the torrent of emotions that have been going through me on account of my mother. I know she can’t possibly relate to or understand since she seems to come from a very close, loving family, but still.

Sometimes, however, people are quick to shower you with all kinds of comments and messages when you’ve got good news to share. Get sad, mad or emotional about something that’s not good and ironically people seem to disappear. Some of them anyway, and then I’m left to wonder why. Are they really just busy or is it a coincidence? Are they just too weak to handle someone else’s emotions or tough times? Are they simply at a loss for words and just don’t know what to do or say? I wonder about these things at times. And it’s always, always those who are considered less attractive that seem to be around the most. Again I have to wonder, is this odd coincidence NOT a coincidence? Or am I just imagining it?

Nane once told me that she works hard for her money and that she doesn’t feel the least bit guilty or ashamed for it. She shouldn’t! She should be proud of herself. Well, just like she’s not the least bit ashamed or guilty for doing well in life, I’m not the least bit ashamed or guilty for how I feel about my mother (and some other family members) and I’m not about to let anyone tell me I’m wrong for it or sit in judgment of me, not that they have. I have a right to my emotions and I accept them as they are. If there are others, however, who can’t accept them as they are, that’s their problem. I don’t need, want or expect anyone’s approval about anything I think, do, feel or say.

Yes, it’s ironic that some people “happen” to not be around when we’re feeling down and could use more support from friends even if it’s just to say, “Hi, how are you? I hope you’re feeling better.” But until and if I hear otherwise, I know I shouldn’t jump the gun and assume the worst. Some people are just plain busy and we can’t expect to hear from them every day no matter what’s going on in our lives.

Now, onto more important things than why some people seem to disappear at certain times. The realtor blew us off completely. So I’m guessing that cheap doublewide either sold, something’s trying to stop us from getting a place, or we’re just meant to be in that other park. The one we completed and submitted our eligibility application to.

My allergies have been going crazy ever since I took back the old mattress and threw the plain foam topper on. Am I allergic to foam or something?

Despite the anger I’ve been experiencing over Mom’s shit, I kind of had to laugh when Tammy said she wasn’t sure which were journals as opposed to stories. I told her, though, that it would be pretty obvious. I don’t usually mix stories with reality, but if I do it would say Chapter Whatever and contain a lot of quotes, which represent dialogue.

She took the evil witch’s dog up to CT. Poor mutt. I may not be a dog fan but I know they have feelings, too. It must be quite a change for it to live half its life in a warm climate with an older couple in a condo, then to end up in a cold climate with a younger couple that has another dog and lives on 3 acres of land.

Anyway, it’s Aly I’m more worried about. I may be pissed as hell after learning some things I learned, but I’m still doing ok. She isn’t.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 11, 2012 Ok, continuing on with the family drama…by the time I was born, I already had enough reason to hate God. I was born without an ear, hard of hearing, with asthma and allergies, and to the wrong mother. I know there are worse mothers, but mine was bad enough. Then I grew up to have one dream after another denied to me. Those dreams faded with time and were no longer dreams in the end, but the point is still the same, I was denied the right to make this decision myself before they lost their appeal. Then I get shit on by life and the people in it while they basically get rewarded for it. What do I have to do to get some respect, kindness and rewards of my own from God? Go out and get a gun and pop some poor, innocent unsuspecting fucker in the face?

Tammy said that the lawyer, a guy named Walter, said he didn’t think there would be any money and would be sending me a letter stating what Tammy already told me, though Tammy said she thought I’d get her share. I already know I’m not getting shit. Meanwhile, I hope Jennifer enjoys what isn’t rightfully hers, and all the shit mom gave Larry and his child-woman which I have a feeling was much, much more than they’ve given me in the last 20 years. Tammy admits she has no idea what she gave them, but does know she gave them some dishes and silverware since they didn’t even have that much when they moved to Florida.

A few grand. Just a few lousy fucking grand! That’s all I wanted. How can any “good” God deny me even just that much on top of everything else? He has denied me so, so much in life. Why was that too much to ask for, and why does karma forget so many people? Nursing homes tend to be abusive. I’d like to think the bastard would at least see to it that her life is hell there as well as in the afterlife, but I’m sure He’s got her demented enough to think she’s in heaven. Tammy says she’s out of it a good 80% of the time. I told her to tell Mom to go fuck herself, but with my shit luck “go fuck yourself” would probably mean “you look lovely today” in the bitch’s twisted mind. All she obsesses about is beer and getting her hair done. Demented or not, that’s all she cares about. I have no desire to ever speak to her again and I hope her final moments are hell on earth and that she burns in hell!

Tammy sees things differently. She said she’ll never forgive Mom, but feels she did right by God by helping her out. Again, how can she feel she’s doing right by a being that let it all happen??? Shouldn’t she do right by herself and forget about God?

Anyway, I tried to calm Tammy, who’s sick of Larry’s shit, and remind her that once the bitch is dead, she won’t have any reason to have to associate with the pervert. I guess the pervie called her up and cussed her out for not letting him know Mom was in the hospital right away. When he was done she told him she hadn’t called yet cuz she didn’t know what the hell was going on. It was just some minor thing she was soon released for. I guess it was pain due to the stroke, but I really don’t give a damn what it was. That woman could never be in enough pain for me. Nonetheless, even the staff told him not to call the nursing home since all he does is cuss them out.

When Tammy was down in Florida she had some talks with Norma. Norma was always a good person even though I seldom saw her except for one time she upset me by telling others I was pranking her. Apparently, someone was pranking her and it was automatically assumed that it was me because of my reputation for doing that sort of thing. Then Andy had upset me further at the time when he wouldn’t believe that it wasn’t me, despite the fact that I had no problem admitting to every other call I’d ever made. He had some serious trust issues, but I know he has worked on that quite a bit. Everybody has their faults. Life isn’t about being perfect. It’s about doing something about those faults and trying not to make the same mistakes.

I still feel bad for dumping him for a decade. Oh, I still respect myself enough to rid myself of those who are rude, mean, or abusive to me, but Andy definitely didn’t deserve what he got. As long as I’m not fighting every week with someone and as long as no one’s trying to judge or control me, there’s no reason not to be friends with them as long as they don’t get pushy or obsessive.

I always liked Norma. My calling list usually consisted of those I disliked or strangers, so I had no reason to pick on Norma. That’s beside the point, though. The point is that she and Tammy had some talks and even Norma agreed mom was anything but a loving mother. She was into playing favorites, too. Where she favored Lisa when it came to her grandkids, she favored Larry when it came to her kids. I always used to say I got it the worst because I was the one who ended up a ward of the state and sent away, but I don’t know about that. I think Tammy and I both had it the worst but in different ways. She told me some things about Mom that I didn’t even know, and I don’t see why she’d lie about this. Seems mom got a little more physical than I realized she was capable of being. She not only loved to tell her she never wanted kids (I’ve heard this before too, and don’t understand why the hell she had 3 if she knew she didn’t even want 1), but she pushed her down the stairs one time and broke her leg. Nana had to bring her to the hospital the next day. She also backhanded her one day and her ring cut into the area above Tammy’s eyebrow and she needed stitches.

I got slapped around too, but maybe I didn’t get it as bad as she did because mom felt bad for my medical conditions and because I was so small. At 4 I looked like a 2-year-old. At 14 people thought I was 9. This stopped, though, once I was able to fight back. She was definitely much more abusive towards me in my preteens.

Tammy also said she told the school guidance counselor what was going on in hopes that they would keep what she told them confidential and help her somehow. Instead, she was called back to the office a while later, and guess who was sitting there?

I totally believe this because I had a similar experience. For some reason, I was afraid to go home one day (probably because I had to wake Mom up to find the outfit she wanted me to wear that day that she forgot to lay out for me the night before). The teacher asked why I was afraid to go home. I told her because I was afraid mom would hit me. Her brilliant solution to that was to have a little boy walk me home who lived nearby. Did she really think this 7 or 8-year-old boy could protect me against the wrath of a full-grown woman?

So he walks me home and we get to our street. I then tell him it’d be best to take off, but he refuses. My mother opens the door, eyeing him suspiciously. Why is her no-good daughter being escorted home by a boy? OMG, a boy! The fucking kid then goes, “The teacher asked me to walk Jodi home because Jodi said she was afraid you would hit her.” All I remember after that was cowering in the corner of the kitchen as my mother went to hit me.

The next day the boy laughed at me in school and gloated, “I saw your mother hit you.”

God protected that boy that day by not having me be willing or able to react as I am perfectly willing and able to react today.

Anyway, thank you, Mom, for the years of wonderful memories. You screwed me in life and soon you’ll screw me in death, too. Oh, and thank you too, God, for sitting back and watching it all happen. Yeah, you little bastard, you could knock an ear off me, you could deny me this, deny me that and let all kinds of assholes shit on me, but you can’t keep Tom from loving me or us from going home. And you know what else? You are NOT going to take this home away from us too, once we get there!

So like I said, I appreciate Tammy listening to me and letting me pour it all out without judging me. She never tried to say I was wrong for feeling how I feel and she never tried to change me. She also said that she hopes that next time we’re ever in need I’ll pick up the phone and call her for help. That’s sweet of her too, though no one I knew could’ve helped us if they’d wanted to had Tom not gotten a job in the nick of time. A few hundred dollars wouldn’t have saved us. The best she could’ve done was fly us to her and hold us up till we got on our feet. Just knowing she would do that for us if need be, though, is really nice. They say you learn who your true friends and family are if you ever do need food and shelter and things like that till you can make it on your own, and you know what? Tom and I intend to never have to find out if our guesses as to who’s true and who’s not are correct! That’s why we’re doing the opposite of what my parents did and are being smarter with money while we’re still young enough. I used to be bad with money too, though I wouldn’t have put our kids secondary to my spending habits if we’d had any. But still, I was a big spender for a while and that’s part of why we spend so much time broke. We weren’t “poor” until we came here. We actually did quite well through most of our marriage; it’s just that we were dumb enough to get an expensive house that sucked every last dime out of us so we couldn’t save, and what we did save I spent on needless shit like dolls. I’m not saying I’ll never buy anything for fun again, but still, I was a Dureen, if not nearly to the degree, and he was a softie like Dad who gave in to what I wanted.

If there was any good to come of the economic disaster we went through, it was that we learned to save while we can. Never again will we live paycheck to paycheck. We’re not only saving for a rainy day but saving for a thunderously stormy day as well. By buying a place outright, old dump or not, and by lowering our monthly expenses, we could save on unemployment if he were laid off again. Then after we get the renovations done all on our own like we’re going to have to, we’ll start plowing money into the 401K big time.

Do I think God will screw us some other way if He can’t get us financially? Yeah, He might. He’ll probably go after our health, but we’ll see. Maybe if we rise up enough to beat Him at His own game and show Him we refuse to lay down and be His underdogs and His little whipping boys, He’ll respect us enough to at least back off and leave us alone. Except for this shit with the will, He’s been pretty good to us this last year.

Andy’s been kind enough to be a reference for us. The park wanted two references, so we’re using him and his coworker Pam who lives there. I’m sure Tammy wouldn’t mind if we needed another one, but I doubt they’d want someone in Germany where Nane is, LOL.

Speaking of Germany, I’m not sure I like how a certain person there has basically ignored me since I told her what’s going on. I hope she’s just busy cuz I feel like I’m getting the same silent treatment I got when I shared our crisis with her a year ago. It makes me wonder if she’s one of those who can’t handle someone’s troubles or maybe doesn’t even want to. Same with Christiane. Oh, but I was quick to hear from Irene. Again, it’s always, always the ugly ones that care the most.

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 10, 2012 I type faster than a bullet yet I don’t know if my fingers can keep up with my brain as there are so many thoughts and emotions running through me right now. I will try to put to print all the details I can, but will only share this entry with the few people I’m closest to, though I may publish some of it. There’s a lot of sadness and anger in this entry and it’s anything but positive, so I’ll understand if anyone doesn’t want to read it or may just want to skim it. It could be a long one either way. It’s been a frustrating day turned emotional.

I can tell you right now, though, that I’m a firm believer in what an old therapist once told me and that’s that there is no right or wrong emotion. So I’m not about to feel guilty or ashamed for the ill feelings I have towards my mother and some others. I have always believed that if one can respect oneself enough to walk away from abusive people who aren’t related to them, one can and should do the same with abusive people who are related to them. Just because she gave birth to me doesn’t make her abuse ok. It is no ticket to tolerance as far as I’m concerned. I am not obligated to stick around and pretend I care or that I have any respect or love for the woman because I don’t. Sometimes I wish bad things upon her, but I am mostly numb with indifference. I sure wasn’t today, though. Despite all the shit my mother has put me through I’ve never wanted to harm her in any way. I mean physically. Today, however, after I got off the phone with Tammy I knew that if I suddenly appeared before her in the nursing home she’s in I’d have throttled the bitch from 80% demented to a perfect 100%.

My rage isn’t just about what she and others have done to me, it’s about them getting away with it time and time again.

“She’ll never do a day in jail for what she did to us!” I raged at Tom. “She’ll never know a day of poverty. I was vindicated in the end, but still, the black welfare bums and their pig pal will never pay for setting me up.”

“The welfare bums are still welfare bums,” Tom tried to assure me.

“But she works for the city! You know she started doing that right before she moved. City workers make big bucks.”

“Not anymore. If you still have your job with the city it’s because you accepted huge pay cuts.”

Maybe so, but none of this is good enough. God has always ALWAYS protected my perps. I don’t think, but I KNOW that if I were murdered He would not only protect my killer from the law, but He would probably also go so far as to make sure they had a pretty decent life, too. Knowing this is pretty damn scary because that’s something that takes a lot of hate. A LOT of hate. On the other hand, Tom would take care of them if he knew where they were. Still, people get compensated in court all the time for the dumbest of things, but it looks like I’m not going to get shit in the way of compensation from my abusers, thanks to their stupidity. Many think that seeking compensation be it legal or not is wrong. They also think that revenge is revenge even if it’s done through the courts by having a perp charged, convicted and sentenced.

But if people aren’t made to pay for their actions, isn’t that like saying it’s ok? The bitch is never going to pay in jail time or any other way for abusing us. Therefore, a little money would’ve helped. It wouldn’t have changed or undone the past, but it would’ve helped. I don’t expect those who haven’t been abused to get this, but regardless, it’s how I feel. Something up there felt I didn’t deserve to be born to a loving mother, so the least it could’ve done was let us have a few grand to help jump-start renovations on our new home which isn’t going to be very “new.” People say she’ll pay in the afterlife, but we can’t know that. That could be pure wishful thinking for all we know.

I’ve learned that the bad guys aren’t always the bad guys and the smart guys aren’t always the smart guys. I’ve been old enough long enough to know my parents weren’t these strong, perfect people we often see them to be as kids. I know they have their weaknesses. I know they’ve made mistakes. But it seems I didn’t quite realize the extent of it till now. Or maybe I had some idea but I just didn’t get it. I’m not good with numbers. I have always been as bad with numbers as I am good with writing and learning languages.

One day I realized I had achieved fluency, though not perfect fluency, in Spanish. I now knew three languages. But that wasn’t enough. Three languages just weren’t enough. So I kept studying languages and writing stories but I never bothered with going beyond basic math abilities and even my “basics” are shaky. Nane explained her job to me and I didn’t get it. I just didn’t get it. I told Tom what she said and he explained it to me. I still didn’t get it. For all I know a presentation is me presenting what’s left of my doll collection for one to see. A performance is something I see on YouTube. Funds are something my twisted country gives too much of to other countries because it refuses to take care of its own. That’s all I know.

Tom always said not to defend, excuse or play down the situation, but my parents’ money is theirs to do as they please with, and that we should appreciate the help they gave us when we needed it in 2007 and see consider anything else as just an appreciated bonus.

If they hadn’t been such shitty parents, then maybe I could see it that way, but it’s not that easy.

So many people believe there’s a good God out there, but I have believed – no, I’ve known – that there is something up there that has hated me for the most part. It hasn’t shortchanged me when it came to true love and good friends, but it’s had it in for me in almost every other way imaginable.

Before we left Oregon we had two huge letdowns from two different potential moneymaking sources. I won’t get into what they were, but that’s when reality hit me. It was winter of 2007 and that’s when I realized that “God” or whatever’s up there would see to it that we never had much money and may even fight to keep us struggling most of our lives.

Then his pitiful excuse of a mother disowned us for daring to ask for help after we helped her and lost thousands of dollars to her that she promised to repay but never did. When I thought of those two lost opportunities and then realized that we wouldn’t get an inheritance from either of our parents (although at the time I thought we wouldn’t get anything from my folks because we weren’t talking), this was when I lost any last doubts that something was out to curse us financially just as much as it had with neighbors and other things.

Sure enough, half a year later we moved down to Cali to better our lives in a place we thought had more opportunity. Then the economy collapsed. I don’t have to be a financial genius to know it will never get better. It’s too far gone to ever make much of a comeback. It must be torn down and rebuilt from scratch to be “repaired,” but this is never going to happen because people are just too stupid to know any better. Or to at least do what needs to be done instead of just talking about it.

I’ve been back in touch with my parents since 2007 after a 10-year quiet spell brought on by shit they pulled that I won’t bother to get into. Andy is the only one I regret dumping, but I’m getting off-topic. Well, I never would’ve been back in touch with them if it weren’t for our moment of desperation back when we were in motels. We’d spent 36 hours on the streets and then pawned and sold some stuff to get a room for the night. Tom was in a real Catch-22. He couldn’t go to work because he had to spend time selling things. So we were losing money while trying to make it. We lived like real bums as if we were lazy, drug-dependent people who didn’t give a shit. I hated God above with a passion and I still do. We were genuine bums while some others lived high off the hog simply for breathing. It isn’t those who work hard and gets what they deserve I have a problem with, as I said in a previous entry, it’s those who work hard that DON’T get what they deserve that really pisses the shit out of me. But the point is that that’s the only reason I reached out to them at the time. Hell, I’d have reached out to Jeffrey Dahmer had he been our only option! At the time I thought they were still doing ok since they overnighted $450 to us, plus paid for a couple of nights at the hotel. Even so, a sudden thought hit me later on down the road – that God would make sure to screw me out of my inheritance some other way.

Through online research and other things, we’ve come to suspect that their money dwindled the older they got. For one, mom was always a high spender. It was always more important to her that her fucking mutts had bows in their ears as opposed to her kids having enough to eat. Between the constant spending, the economy collapsing, and their acquiring more medical problems with age, I suspected they were going broke.

“I tried to tell you this, sweetie,” Tom said to me. “No one their age works just to keep active. They work because they need the money, only they would have hidden the fact that they were going broke.”

That’s true, too. That’s definitely something they would’ve tried to hide from people. It’s not like they’d be quick to brag and say, “Hey, we once inherited a ton of money, but we weren’t the least bit smart about our money and so we blew it all and left nothing for our kids. At least not the ones that deserve it most.” Dad did, however, say the economy got them down so bad they couldn’t even save, and what they did save had to go to medical expenses. Still, when I learned that Jennifer (Larry’s 30-year-old daughter) is to be getting money as well as a valuable chest mom’s parents had while I may not get shit, that made me want to strangle the bitch like never before! This estranged granddaughter of hers who doesn’t even know she exists, much less give a damn about her, is going to get what should be mine. Tammy said she doesn’t want her fucking money, but I’m just the opposite. I want to milk the bitch for every cent I can. Why not, people do this to people in court for a helluva lot less than what my mother’s done to us over the years. Jennifer, on the other hand, appears to have a full-fledged nursing career. Well, guess what folks? I don’t have any career. Our lovely God has seen to it that I not only can’t work but also can’t collect disability either. So once again Jodi gets the short end of the stick. She doesn’t get what she deserves while someone else gets what they don’t deserve. Thank you, God. Thank you so much for caring about me.

Tammy initially asked me what I wanted from the house, but as I told her, Mom and Dad’s material things don’t interest me. All I wanted was money to help with the upcoming move and I thought we’d get at least a few grand. Had I known exactly what Jennifer was going to take and that we’d be fucked out of money, I’d have asked Tammy to try to get it to me before she could get it and then I’d have sold it. Tammy said she went through the place looking for things of value but there wasn’t much of anything. The only other thing of value is their vehicle but that has to go to pay off their fucking debts which I’ll get to soon enough.

This is why I was furious to learn Larry had knocked his child-woman up. Tom had asked what I could possibly have against this unborn child and that it doesn’t matter how many grandkids one has since it’s just the kids that inherit, but not in my family. When I remembered how my mom’s parents gave each of their 5 grandkids 2K, I figured she would give to her grandkids as well. Well, even if the bastard’s born to a 21-year-old welfare bum with daddy issues, it still counts as a grandkid. If the fucking pervert had just waited till the bitch was dead, then he could knock up the whole damn world for all I care. So not only has God helped ensure me no compensation, He “replaced” the son the pervert killed in 1995 with his carelessness. As I always said, God killed the wrong Larry that night.

I didn’t realize just how careless and downright dumb both my parents were either, her with her overspending and warped priorities, him with his being too soft and not having a backbone of his own. It’s very common with Jewish couples for the woman to wear the pants. He did whatever she wanted. He stood by her no matter what. That’s my only complaint about my otherwise cool, easygoing dad. He just wouldn’t put his foot down. When she got abusive he looked the other way, not that he was totally exempt from the abuse himself. Oh, he could say some nasty things at times, and he had a way with his belt when he got pissed enough. But still, there was no comparison between him and her. I don’t think, but I know that had she killed one of us he would have stayed with her just the same AND the bastard above would have protected her and made sure she never did 5 minutes in jail.

Things were the same with her own parents. Jack wore the leash and Shirley controlled that leash. When Shirley told Jack to jump, Jack jumped.

“Jack, don’t breathe!”

Jack didn’t breathe.

The plan was to dump Tammy as soon as they both died and we got whatever may be coming to us, but now I’m not so sure that’s necessary. There is a connection between two sisters who were abused and I’m not so sure the enemy really is the enemy anymore. She still swears it was Bill and Bill only who called the pigs when I threatened him for his treatment of her and Lisa, but she did admit to and apologize for other things. I had feared she would try to burn me again because she can be more spiteful and vengeful than I used to be once upon a time. I know she’s just itching to report Larry’s child-woman to the Massachusetts Welfare office for living with the baby’s working father in Florida. But I think she has gotten above and beyond some of the things she used to do, and I wouldn’t be dumb enough to give her ammunition to use against me by doing the kinds of things I used to do, like threaten cocks like Bill. I’m either going to just do it or keep such threats to myself.

I just didn’t get her for a while there. I’d slap the shit out of any man that was as rude and disrespectful to me as Bill and others were to her. But as she said, that was all she knew for so long. Tammy’s 8 years older than me and Larry’s just 3 years older than her. When she was alone with him, he’d be like mom and kick her around. I know it’s common for a lot of women who were abused as kids to seek out abusive men or to become abusive themselves by beating their husbands, boyfriends and kids. That’s how Paula is. If she has a hard day, she takes it out on whatever guy she’s with whether she’s PMSing or not. Some of it is still the guy’s fault, too. They provoke women either thinking they can’t or won’t fight back, though we rarely hear about abused men because they are often ashamed and embarrassed to admit they took one from a woman. It is still believed that bigger is always stronger, regardless of physical fitness and state of mind.

Anyway, she admitted that sending Tom that letter in defense of her abuser was wrong and that it was on account of her low self-esteem. She swears she knew I was still in Arizona when we left Phoenix, but didn’t know where we’d moved to or Tom’s family’s name in order to call and trace us through them as they would’ve been dumb enough to disclose that info. If this is really true, then I’m suspecting the outstanding warrant that was out on me at the time pushed the pigs to hunt me down. I don’t blame her for the warrant on account of the white/Jew-hating welfare bums that set me up with the help of their pig pal (I won’t get into how he did it) for the city complaint we lodged. If we didn’t know it was out on me, then she certainly couldn’t know about it. If the pigs make a case against you, they put out court subpoenas and then warrants when you don’t show up, even if they don’t know where you are and can’t serve you. Well, we had no mail service at our Maricopa house, so they couldn’t have served me their little court call. It was when the pig came to the house on account of Bill that they routinely ran a check and discovered the warrant.

So as Tammy and I both agree, we’re thrilled to know Bill’s cancer has returned and I hope to hell he suffers miserably for having a hand in costing me half a year of my life and thousands of dollars, not to mention emotional distress like crazy. You know what else? I don’t care who may think I’m wrong for saying so! I would still beat that cock’s ass if it materialized before me, only now it would be for different reasons than I had when I sent the letter I sent him.

I’ve chosen not to actively seek revenge on anyone be it legally or not because I always get punished for doing so. God screws me by letting others screw me, and He screws me if I try to fight back.

There’s a difference between those I don’t want anything to do with and those I hate so damn much I could not only never forgive them, but know I would mutilate if they magically materialized before me. Kim and Molly are people I want nothing to do with. I don’t like them one bit. But I don’t hate them either. I can forgive people for the kind of shit they pulled on me even if that might still mean I don’t want to associate with them.

But every single person that had a hand, both directly and indirectly, in getting me thrown in jail, is a whole different story. Even if I’d been 100% guilty of writing such a mean, threatening letter to our less-than-kind welfare bums who drove us crazy at our own expense since it was our tax dollars that allowed them to sit on their asses and raise hell, who the hell deserves to go to jail for half a year and then lose thousands of dollars for a fictitious letter?!?! For a fucking letter that, had it been real, was mere words on paper that no one was forced to read, mean or not. That was sent to an adult and not a child.

But everything was all about how black they were, and poor poor blackie this and poor poor blackie that. And of course they had kids and we didn’t. Well, the two measly little pranks I pulled on them – totally provoked by them in the first place – doesn’t mean I deserved what I got! Right or wrong, you can’t pick on someone for 3 years and not expect a reaction. So yes, I pulled a couple of pranks but it was nothing compared to what was pulled on us as neighbors and then through the law when we moved and tried to escape their shit. Never once was their credibility and integrity ever questioned. They casually and freely lied in court and to the media, no questions asked. All the blame was 100% thrown on me. Never once were they asked if they instigated anything. No one knows about the endless hours of noise, trash and vandalism we went through on account of these assholes. I was so, so hurt and definitely offended when no one (except for the few who were powerless to help me) would listen to or believe a word I would say in my own defense. Well, then why did they fucking ask?! Words can’t describe how pissed I’d be when people would ask why they did certain things, I would answer, and then they’d say, “Nah, that wasn’t why,” even though they never lived there or met the assholes.

I know what happened and I know why it happened. So does my husband. If you don’t have a hold on me of any kind, then I have no reason to bullshit you. If I were a drinker and on probation and asked by my PO if I drank and the answer was really yes, you bet I’d lie in that case. But if one doesn’t have a hold on me, don’t expect any tall tales from me because you can’t use the truth against me in any way. You can not like it, but you can’t beat me over the head or control me with it in any way or spank me and send me to bed without any dinner.

The fucking judge made up his mind about me before he even heard me speak in court. This perfect stranger donned a black robe and sat in judgment of me and a situation he knew virtually nothing about other than a pack of lies from one side and one side only. He wasn’t there. My husband and I were. No matter how many false assumptions were made, no one gave a shit and no one would listen to me.

Although my family has nothing at all against gays, it hates blacks and Muslims. While I may hate people as a whole I have always tried to judge people based on their individual behavior and not their color. But like it or not the vast majority of blacks, at least in America, have been determined to “avenge” the past and make the whites of today, who have absolutely nothing to do with the slavery of the past, pay in some way. They’re using their race against us like crazy and it’s automatically our word against theirs. This pisses me off same as people blaming today’s Germans for Shitler’s shit. But I not only can’t have a White History Month or a white whatever without being called racist, but I also can’t have a black person charged with a hate crime should one attack me for being white. How is that any more correct than it is to deny gays equal rights?

Although I was vindicated in the end, there is no record whatsoever to show this that I know of. That’s another wonderful thing about this country which even my sister is coming to hate (I told her I’ve been thinking of trading it in someday for Spain), we air people’s dirty laundry out, but we seldom air their victories out. So I have nothing to show for the vindication that came 2 ½ years too late other than the memory of a phone call early one morning in the late spring of 2003. Scared the living shit out of me, too. It was just after 6am and when I saw it was my PO I thought, “Oh no! They’ve set me up again! They’ve accused me of some shit I have no way to prove I’m innocent of and now I’m gonna get another 3 years or worse.” But it was my PO giving me the good news. I’ll never forget that day. I ran around the house grinning like a mad idiot. Then I was overcome with this strange, sickening urge to hurt myself. Why? Because I was so used to some form of abuse, for once I wanted the abuser to be me so I had no one to blame but myself. I never did hurt myself, though. Just vowed to never ever forgive God.

Getting off-topic again. Sorry! I admit that for a while I was so disgusted with my sister that I couldn’t stand to even look at her picture. Then I just didn’t know what to believe. The family is filled with a web of deceit and illusions that’d make anyone’s head spin. As flaky, weird, and childish as I can sometimes come across with my playful nature, I like to think I’m both sharp-minded and with a good sense of character, but sometimes even I don’t always know what to think.

Tammy has expressed a desire to move on, chat with Tom sometime, and have me get to know Mark who I will admit does sound very kind and loving. They’ve been together for over 10 years now. The only two people he hates are Bill and Larry, LOL. I asked Tom how he felt about my keeping in touch and he saw no harm in it and agrees the past is the past, and regardless of who did what, it can’t be changed anyway. Well, I don’t want to make any decisions right now one way or the other, but I did make it clear to her that we’ll never return to New England. Oh yes, she and I are true opposites. We don’t look alike, we don’t share any of the same interests, and where she likes a seasonal climate, I like a warm one. They didn’t like Florida at all and are thinking of swapping Connecticut in for either Maine or New Hampshire. Ugh! Even so, some people just think the world is all wrong if the leaves don’t turn colors and fall off. It’s still wrong if it doesn’t snow and then the leaves don’t sprout themselves in the spring. And it’s totally wrong to step outside on Christmas to find it 80°. The only time I like it cool is when I’m sleeping and working out, but that means 70°, not 7° with snow and ice. So she can keep her hot chocolate to cuddle up with by the fire while I run around in shorts and sports bras.

I will admit I was a bit of an absentee aunt there for a while even after we slowly started communicating again, for two reasons. One was because Lisa and Sarah were very rude to me in 2010, especially Lisa, Two, I saw it as friend mixing which can be a bad concoction at times that has a way of backfiring on you. Well, I didn’t want to get caught up in the “he said, she said” game. I’m still keeping my distance, though I have no hard feelings at all and wish them the best. Maybe we’ll talk in the future or maybe we won’t.

She got a new laptop, but won’t be back online till the 18th. Poor girl’s got over 100 pounds on me, too. I guess she’s on some medication that’s got steroids in it and it makes a person anything but slim. Everyone’s so tall in the family except for me, though that fucking bitch of a mother of mine wasn’t that big. About 5’ 3”, 160 pounds.

Back on topic yet again. I was under the impression all 3 of Tammy’s girls were anti-Larry, but apparently, Lisa’s been in touch with him. I guess the pervert called her to ask what Tammy took from the condo or something like that. Anyway, Tammy went off on a tangent about Lisa. I guess that Lisa’s caused all kinds of problems for the family, and Bill and her sisters don’t want anything to do with her or at least not much. I won’t get into what it was Lisa said to me a couple of years ago but right away I could see that something was off. She’s obviously not right in the head, but I doubt it’s in the way Molly’s fucked in the head, and I think a lot of her problems were Tammy and Bill induced. I don’t know her well enough to judge, and I don’t want to get involved with any family problems that don’t pertain to me. Nonetheless, Tammy went on and on about Lisa raising hell and “trying” to hang onto the relationship but getting fed up.

First I really poured out our past struggles to Tammy and she really listened and never judged me for my feelings and beliefs (she used to hate God like I do but now thinks He’s just great) and for that, I really appreciate her.

I try never to condemn anyone for their beliefs but I don’t get how she can be such a fan of God. He let the abuse happen. So that’s another one I don’t get. Wouldn’t my buddying up to God be like a woman buddying up to her rapist? But I can see where if one has a relatively good childhood and doesn’t struggle much as an adult and usually gets what they want, they would be quicker to say God was good. If I suddenly won a million dollars, I wouldn’t say God was good since the damage has already been done, but it would help. I still think, for reasons we’ll probably never know, God sees people as we do. Some He hates, some He likes, some He loves. If being a 1 out of 10 means being the most hated, then I���d say I’m probably a 3 or 4 overall, but if you take just this last year of my life, I’d say I’ve moved up to an 8 or 9. Regardless, He let so many people use, abuse and walk all over me, and then He gave them 100% guaranteed protection. How do I “buddy up” to that?

“We lived like bums while mom and dad lived high off the hog!” I shouted to Tammy. “Never consider yourselves bums,” she said.

Oh, I don’t. It’s her lovely God that apparently does. It’s her lovely God who felt my husband deserved 28 months of employment while his wife deserved a sleep disorder. Nonetheless, we struggled our asses off in a tiny trashy trailer for years. I tried to tell myself it was better than some slum in a third-world country, but this isn’t no third-world country! This is the US of fucking A!

I have tried praying for things I’ve needed and wanted, but the results were inconclusive. If I got some of the things in the end it was probably a coincidence that would’ve happened anyway. I have, however, noticed that if I cuss God out and really let Him know what I think, I get punished for it. Things just get worse. They break or other minor inconveniences start escalating. So I am forced to keep in most of my emotions since He obviously can’t handle them and doesn’t want to hear them. So I won’t belittle myself by crawling to this entity that so obviously hates me so, but I try to keep the cussing spells to a minimum.

She was happy for us and how we’re house hunting now, and said she just got a bedroom set she loves. Well, I’m happy for her in return, and although we could do it all ourselves if we had to (it would just take a year or two), I really hoped the least my mother could do after the years of hell she put me through was contribute enough to at least jump-start the renovations and new furniture and all that stuff. That was the least the bastard above could’ve helped see that we got if He gave a damn about me at all, but no, of course not. At least it doesn’t look that way.

Ok, here’s what happened that really got me furious as hell. Tammy said that when Dad was dying he muttered, “It’s not enough. I’m sorry. It’s not enough. I’m sorry.” But she didn’t get it till she learned some things right before mom had a stroke. Well, the store just sold for 50K, but they owed that much on the condo. Then not too long ago, Mom took out a 50K loan which Tom later confirmed he saw online. So now they’re up to owing a little over 100K. Tammy wanted to list the condo for 120K. Not in this economy, the realtor told her.

Why oh why do I feel like God “guided” them and set things up to end up this way just so I wouldn’t get shit? If I’m psychic enough to know other things, mostly through dream premonitions, why would I be wrong about Him or something else up there hating us?

I’ve pounded out half a dozen pages of raw emotion and I’m getting kind of tired. I’ll continue on with the saga later.

Later…

My day started off frustrating and full of tech issues, but then it turned downright sad and infuriating. I am currently composing an entry about it that will only be shared with my closest friends. It’s long, sad and very graphic, so those I share it with may not want to read it. That’s ok. It’s their choice. But if I email it to them they’ll at least have the choice to make. It will probably be done sometime tomorrow. Right now I’m too tired to finish that or write much else.

I woke up with a backache and hip pain and was reminded of why I hate this overly firm mattress so much. I look very forward to the new one coming soon.

Then it was off to fight with phones, keyboards and fans that didn’t want to work right, along with the usual Internet issues. Right now it’s out cold so who knows if I can post this when I’m done.

We’ve been looking at places in the park that his coworker lives in as I’ve mentioned before. But then last night Tom found a good deal on a doublewide. It’s being sold through a realtor, but we’re definitely interested in checking it out. It’s old and ugly but we can make it pretty. It’s 1200 square feet which is better than 720 or 2000, and it’s a corner lot. Satellite images show the roof looks horrible, but it is in otherwise good condition for a 1977 model. Ugly colors, but they can be changed.

So we’ve got a slight change in plan. Because it’s a lot of house for so little money, we’re going to check into that first. We’ll probably still be out of here sometime next month, no matter what we move into. We now have adequate savings to get something decent enough. It’s just a matter of finding the right place and going through the paperwork.

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 9, 2012 Got my first view from the troll yesterday evening. Just a quick visit to my MO blog, but hopefully she’ll be kept too busy to make more than just an occasional quick glance.

“What if you’re really dead, Jodi? What if you really did die the night of October 1st of last year, and what if the wonderful year you’ve had is nothing more than an illusion or wishful thinking from the afterlife?” some anonymous being in my dreams asked me last night.

I answered the same way I would for real; that I’d rather “think” I was living the good life before I knew for sure I was suffering in any way.

Regardless, I slept horribly last night. Another inner wall of the airbed let go, making its shape rather unsleepable. So I deflated the piece of shit and tossed it out on the porch. Then I folded the 4” memory foam topper in half along with the 1” plain foam topper, never more glad for my child-size body, fat or not, and slept on that while he slept on the original foam mattress.

So I settled in for the night and was not only immediately reminded of why I hate memory foam with the way it causes you to sag and overheat, but the whole ensemble was tilted for some reason. I guess that would be due to some parts of the foam being worn out. It’s a miracle I didn’t wake up with a backache, but the makeshift mattress wasn’t thick enough to cause my body to sag to the degree that it did when the memory foam was atop the original mattress.

Then it hit me that I had been stupid. I could’ve just blown up the airbed we got before the last two, and assuming no inner walls let go, that could be used until the new deluxe mattress gets here in about a week even though it does have a tiny leak in it. Yeah, we finally decided to do what we should’ve done all along and got a real quality mattress from Amazon. Shipping was free, but with taxes, it cost about $270. It should be well worth it. It’s a 13” independently cased coil pillow-top mattress. Even if it’s not quite as comfortable as an airbed, I shouldn’t be waking up with backaches like I used to, and it should definitely last a long time.

As Tom said, though, we were more stupid than I thought since we could’ve just thrown the futon’s mattress in there for now, LOL. Once the platform was bare I went and pulled up all the duct tape that we placed over the screw heads to protect the airbeds, then we threw the original mattress on and topped it off with the plain foam topper. Lastly, we threw the memory foam topper on the futon’s barely plush mattress. So I’ll at least not be sagging too much or feeling like I’m having hot flashes until the new mattress arrives.

We’re doing the paperwork required for the park and I tweaked some online settings too, assuming they’ll look us up online. You won’t find anything on Tom, but I did have the links to my blogs on Facebook set to public. Well, you never know what things people may judge you by, so I set those to friends only for now. Once we get in, assuming we really do, I can open that back up later.

He’s going to type up a letter about our ownership and rental history for the last 10 years. I told him to make sure he lets me read it before he prints it out, knowing what spelling and grammar errors he may make and that if he thinks it’ll take him 5 hours and 45 minutes to do it, have me do it instead. We also shot pictures of our IDs and other things.

His total earnings for the first year at this job are definitely going to be above average. It’s about fucking time, too! It was never those who got what they deserved I had a problem with. It’s those NOT getting what they deserve I have a problem with. I will never forgive God above, if there is one, for reducing us to such bummery and making such bums out of us cramped into this trashy old trailer for so long. I didn’t ask for my sleep disorder and my husband never asked to spend 28 months on unemployment. I’ll NEVER be His bum again and neither will my husband!

Speaking of work, I’m going back to my job as an artificial intelligence worker as soon as we’re moved and with a better connection, not because we’ll need the extra money but so I can feel like I’m working too, in ways that go beyond just keeping up the place. I’m also going back to sweeping, but don’t know if I can win the hundreds to thousands of dollars a month in cash and prizes that I used to be able to win. Psychic or not, there’s just too much competition these days.

I started to get pissed off when I saw I gained back the two pounds I half-starved off last week with just one day of pigging out. But not only did I realize it wasn’t all for nothing after all since I wasn’t two pounds above what I put back on, but it’s already backed off. I decided not to pig out again, though, until I’ve lost 4 pounds.

Really hope these views from Arizona are just random coincidences. First Surprise, then Maricopa, now Mesa.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 8, 2012 Can’t decide what I want to do today and when. I guess his jeans would be dry in time if I waited till I got up tomorrow to finish the laundry.

So that leaves my workout time to be decided. Should I take another day off or should I work out today? I think I’ll take today off. I’ll shower, cook us a big pot of spaghetti which I know Tom would love to dive into after having to work today, and then I can just relax the rest of the day away unless I decide to do laundry this evening.

We definitely have to order a new bed. Another section of the airbed’s inner wall let go. We’ll order a coil mattress. It may not be as comfortable, but at least it can’t leak or fall apart.

I was thinking of Mom and wondering why Tammy never called with an update last week. I’m guessing it’s because there’s been no change, but I’ll call Tammy next week anyway. I still have such mixed emotions where my mother is concerned and I know I always will. It’s a sad situation in itself to lose your husband of 62 years and then be on death row in a nursing home. But try as I will, I cannot forget the years of misery she inflicted upon me both directly and not. Besides, I’m sure the nursing home she’s in is like a luxury country club compared to the places I ended up in on account of her not being able to cope with motherhood, right God?

I get pissed at those who blame today’s Germans for the shit Shitler and his bunch of whackos pulled for same the reason I get pissed when some of the black folks think whites owe them because of the past. Well, no one in Germany these days has anything to do with Shitler, and no one in America today has anything to do with slavery. Should I blame my ingrown toenail on George Washington?

Wish my nails were big enough to do certain designs, but they’re so tiny no matter how long they are. I won’t be able to get more than one letter from the newspaper on my pinkies. I got fed up and cut them off. I cut them outside. Will the next tenant find them and use them as fake nails? LOL, it’s nice to be able to type easily again and I can even make a tight fist again.

Guess who’s zooming out right now not knowing we’ll be U-hauling our asses outa here soon enough? Still wish we could know when he’d be out long enough to sneak out in the U-Haul instead of giving him notice. Then if he calls about it we can say, “What are you talking about? We’re still here.” LOL

I was flattered to receive a good night “kiss” from Christiane yesterday, LOL. I usually let my “pokes” build up and return them in groups. Well, she poked back as soon as I poked her and I said, “Wow, you’re up early.” It was only 4:30 in the morning in Germany, but she said she was just going to bed late instead and signed off with a cute little kiss icon. Ooh!

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 7, 2012 Got some exciting news which I really REALLY hope I can post before 9am my time when the hottest woman in Europe takes off for the weekend cuz I can’t get online now. I was on long enough to pick up messages after I awoke, but now it’s out again. But since I usually do my entries in Word, I’ll just get on with it and hope I can post this once it’s done.

Tom asked the lady at work who lives at the park we’re looking into about barking. She says it’s not a problem at all. She said that when someone passes by people who are out walking dogs they sometimes yip at them, but otherwise it’s not like the mainstream. Yeah, well let’s hope Fido doesn’t go off on anyone passing by when he’s let out to take a dump just a few feet from our windows. In other good dog news, they must be kept indoors – yay! So they can’t just tie them up outside before they go to work or when they go out to run errands. I was so glad to hear this! I hope this will deter people from wanting dogs because, for reasons I don’t get, most Westerners don’t believe dogs belong indoors.

Tom said the people managing the place are super nice, and the more he talked to them, the more he doesn’t think there’ll be much trouble getting a place, and that if anything our credit will be just a minor hiccup. We both agree, however, that we don’t want to go from one single-wide dump to another just because it can be ours and much cheaper to rent the lot it’s on than to rent this one from pesky Jesse. We would rather wait for what we want which is a doublewide. It may not be very new and it may need some serious cosmetic surgery, but at least we wouldn’t have settled. As Nane said, if it doesn’t “feel” right, we’re not going to go with it. As annoying as Jesse and his mutts can be we’re not in a desperate situation here like we were in Phoenix, so there’s no need to act in haste. Besides, we have to do the paperwork and let them do the credit check.

He asked about closing costs and all that stuff and I guess there wouldn’t be any of that if we bought a place that was owned by the park as opposed to one a realtor’s selling. It’s a big park with hundreds of homes. He only saw 3, none of which we would want since they were 1-bed, 1-bath, but they said they have about 16 either up for sale or almost up for sale. They’re remodeling and fixing some of them now. They fix anything crucial that needs to be fixed before they sell them.

The average lot these homes are on rent from $400 - $850. Ours will probably be in the $500 - $650 range. This includes trash and sewer, but I’m not sure about gas and water. Probably not those two, and definitely not electric.

Another thing that appealed to us about this particular park is that it’s only 6 miles from where he works instead of 18.

Some of these parks don’t border on mainstream residential areas, but part of this one does. Therefore, we have to make sure we don’t take a place in that section or else we’ll get slammed with tons of barking. Tom was hit with it when they showed him one of the expandos which they call single-wides that have been expanded with add-ons.

The park has more amenities than I thought it did which is super cool. Here, if I want to go outdoors there’s not only any place to go, but I have to hope I don’t get sprayed by skunks or that a bear doesn’t jump out at me. I still love the country way better than the mainstream city, but still, there’s not much I can do out here in the mountains. At the park, though, there’ll be plenty of level streets for bike riding. They also have a pool, a spa, a library, a sauna, a game room, and a laundry room we could use until we got our own washer/dryer.

That’s another thing, the manager said they usually gut the homes before selling them when someone either moves out or dies, so it’s unlikely that we’re going to have a dishwasher, washer or dryer when we move in. On the bright side, we get to pick out the exact ones we want. We really like the idea of getting one of those two-in-ones that both wash and dry clothes. They’re only a couple hundred dollars more than a washer/dryer set. I’m not very hopeful for a dishwasher because there may not be room for one, but that’s not something I have to have. I’m just tired of having to hook up a little puny washer and then hang clothes in here! I want to walk up to a normal, full-size washer and dryer that’s always hooked up and ready to go. Oh, those little luxuries I’ve missed so much that so many people take for granted.

They have potluck dinners too, which brought back a funny memory of when Andy and I lived at the same apartment complex in Arizona in the early 90s that was ruled by a bitch named Stacey which I sort of developed a crush on. Yeah, I’ve got a thing for those tall bitches, LOL. It said to bring a dish. Well, we thought “bring a dish” meant to bring a dish to pile food on. Instead, it really meant, “Bring a dish of free food since you’ll be eating for free, too.” But they let us load up our “dishes” anyway, hahaha.

If we go with a more expensive place where the monthly expenses are comparable to this place, fine. Not only is that ok since we’d be getting so, so much more for the money, but we’ve shown we can save at least $500 a month here. So after we got what we wanted for the place, why couldn’t we save there, too? The most important thing is making sure there’s at least enough to go out and grab and old junker with should this car completely crap out in a way that’s not worth fixing. That would be mostly in the way of engine failure. All other maintenance and repairs Tom can do on his own. He’s always maintained his own vehicles.

So, two more steps – hoping the credit check goes through ok, and then waiting till what we want becomes available.

The excitement and shock of it all hit me again last night and I cried tears of happiness. For years I told myself we would never own again because I didn’t believe it was even remotely possible. It may be a manufactured home as opposed to an on-siter, but it’s still a home, and we can have it paid off in 3 years or less. I don’t like how we’d always have to pay rent for the lot it’s on, but it’s worth it with all the park has to offer. I’d rather that than pay nothing in the mainstream where people refuse to control their dogs and kids, and are always driving by blasting music, though this state isn’t nearly as bad for car stereos as Oregon and Arizona.

I can’t wait to go swimming – woo-hoo! It just may be too cold a part of the year.

It still blows my mind to think that on September 16th, not quite a year ago, we were trying to figure out the best way to die so we wouldn’t have to slowly starve off on the streets when the money ran out. Now we’re figuring out the best home to buy, OMG! My eyes are stinging with tears right now. We had a helluva lot more than just a foot in the grave. I will never forget October 3rd either. After that miracle call came through and saved us, I was sitting here writing when it hit me that by now the landlord would probably be discovering our bodies. shudders at the thought Now here I sit not even a year later, tears streaming down my face to know we survived such an ordeal and are on the road home and that day is coming soon just like Tom and Nane said. That is going to be one seriously emotional day for me.

Other things hit me too, and I ran to Tom and said, “Our baby’s been born! If it’s that close, she (but probably he) has been born by now. He’s only a few inches long and hasn’t got any fur yet, but he’s out there. He EXISTS! And he’s waiting to be taken home by his future mom and hugged and squeezed. Yeah, being the rodent junkie that I am, I doubt we’ll get a dog of our own. I’d only want to take my straightening iron to its tongue every time it barked and woke me up.

Later…

Thank you, Hanna, for letting me know you passed the message I sent you to your mother Stacey since I was unable to message Stacey directly, by disallowing messages. Stacey had that disabled on her own account, so instead, I picked her oldest daughter to share some old memories with. As in some of my 1993 journal entries. I almost wish I saved them just so I could laugh at them, but I know what’s in them. Stacey also let me know she heard about it by way of not only not accepting my friend invite but by blocking me. But did Hanna pass it on and did Stacey read it if she did? I would think she would be curious to see what her own kid was sent, but those who are that unforgiving and unable to move on as Stacey is usually don’t care what anyone has to say about them. They just want to spite them or avoid them. Or both.

Bitch looks smoking hot, though. That much is for sure. Her husband’s profile pic is a shot of them next to a Christmas tree and the bitch is almost movie-star gorgeous with her tall, slim body, perfect teeth and face free of sags and wrinkles. How do some people get so lucky? This woman’s not only younger than fat, sagging little me, if only by a year, but she’s had 3 kids. I’m sure that quite unlike me, God has blessed her with everything she could ever want and that what she can’t get is probably no big deal to her anyway. She’s got a beautiful home unlike anything we’ll ever have, she and her husband no doubt have great jobs, and of course they can both drive and keep schedules just fine. They probably still have a rocking sex life, too.

Her kid was listed on another site as being of mixed ethnicity, but what could that be? If she had all her kids with the same guy, and I assume she did, he looks exactly like what I picture Stacey to go for – someone much like herself. He’s damn near bald and his hair may be a touch darker than Stacey’s, but he’s just another blue-eyed whitey, though I’d say Stacey’s eyes are bordering on hazel and her hair bordering on light brown.

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 6, 2012 Bad news from Aly. First, though, she thought I was done with her as a friend because she said she sent a couple of messages I never returned. I must not have gotten them, as I told her, and I thought she was done with me too, LOL.

Anyway, the poor girl cut up her hands really bad washing a vase that broke, and she and Dustin are so poor right now they’re struggling to sell and pawn things. We know what that’s like! :(

Molly went into the group home on Monday so it was probably her that looked in on me until Saturday. I figured she must’ve taken Sunday to pack, then was gone come Monday. What sucks is that she reactivated an old account to send numerous messages to Regina asking Aly to keep in touch, as she’ll have her laptop with her. That totally sucks to know she can get online from the group home. Totally. But hopefully they’ll keep her busy enough that it can’t be often. As of yet, though, no Austin, TX visitors have appeared on my list.

Finally had a dream we were actually packing up and getting ready to move. Only problem is I never saw where we were going. I “saw” bits and pieces of this place and the last one before we found it. In Oregon, I saw the chain link fence, the picket fence and the side the driveway and bedrooms were on. Here I saw the forest and me looking out windows through binoculars. Seeing us pack in my dreams is a start but it doesn’t tell me much. Especially when weird things happened along with it. We were in a hurry for some reason. You usually have about a month, but for some reason, we had to pack overnight so we could get out the next day. I even asked Tom when the hell we were going to sleep, LOL.

Here’s where it gets even more interesting. An old lady at work asked Tom if we found a place yet. He said no, but he had an appointment to speak to someone in one of the parks we looked at in Citrus Heights. The lady asked him what park and he told her the Stonegate. Well, it turns out she lives there! She just rents, though, and doesn’t own. I told him to ask about the barking there. He said he’s pretty sure she doesn’t have a dog so she’d be a good one to ask. Most people with dogs are always going to say there’s not much barking. When you have your own dog barking it’s hard to notice others as much. The lady did say that the management people there are fairly new and seem nice enough. They’re good at fixing anything that needs fixing right away, too. That’s good to know cuz I’d hate to end up with another Stacey managing things.

Tom will be meeting with them at 5pm. I hope to hell they’ll accept us, but as Tom said, first we have to see if they’ve got what we want. If they don’t have what we want, it doesn’t matter what they say.

While the idea of owning again still excites me, I also like the idea of renting to see what it’s like first. Who knows what we’ll end up doing? I also like the idea of a real house that wasn’t built before the 90s, but that’s just a dream.

I’ve been half-starving myself lately with about 800 calories a day, plus my half-hour workout. Except for the first day, it’s been easier than I expected. Your stomach shrinks and you do get used to it somewhat, though those last few hours of my day are always the hardest. Just don’t know how long I can keep it up, used to it or not. I’ve got an awful lot of weight to lose but I am slowly pulling away from that dreaded 150-marker I was getting a little too close to.

I’ll have something like a 100-calorie snack bar 2-3 hours after getting up. Once I’ve been up for 6 hours, I’ll have a protein bar and work out. Then 4 hours later I’ll have a 400-calorie or so meal. The last thing I’ll eat will be something like yogurt a couple of hours before bed. This is the only way I’m going to know if something’s really wrong with me or not. If I stop losing weight doing this and it continues to hover where it’s at, then up goes a red flag cuz not even older women shouldn’t be able to lose weight on 1000 calories or less a day even without exercise.

I’m only checking my email once or twice a day now. I’m sick of checking it just to have to muddle through spam that keeps returning no matter how many times I mark it as spam and unsubscribe from the sites that took the liberty of signing me up for the shit in the first place.

As soon as I get ahold of some newspaper and try that nail design I want to try, it’s bye-bye long nails. They’re driving me crazy!

Later…

I was so pissed off earlier. How the hell can a 500-calorie meal put 2 pounds on me??? I even stopped the raspberry ketones cuz they weren’t doing much for me at all. I guess my body must be fighting to hang onto the weight for a reason and I’m just meant to be a big girl. I waited till I went back down 2 pounds and then had 300 calories in snacks. The hunger’s worse today. After the 500 calories, I felt as if I’d burst, but now I feel like I could eat 1000 calories and still be hungry!

Had a little bit of a scare earlier when I saw I had a blog visitor from where the sick black bitch lives. But they landed on an entry about shopping at Target which pretty much tells me they Googled something that landed them there. There’s really no other way into a single post unless they linked into it. But they couldn’t have linked into that entry because the link to it isn’t public anywhere. If it were connected to the sickos, I would think they’d land on the main blog and fly under radar.

Do they still watch me? That’s both a sad and scary thought. Even though I know I didn’t do a damn thing wrong, a part of me is surprised I haven’t been harassed online or heard anything else since that supposed pig emailed me. Once again, why would they just give up on me if it were a real pig? Jurisdiction issues? Because it wasn’t a real cop? Because the DA stopped them after insisting I did nothing wrong and what I did do wasn’t worth it? I still worry they’re gonna jump out at me somehow, real pig or not, but Tom doesn’t think there’ll be any trouble so long as I keep a low profile.

If that was a real cop, again, it’s both sad and scary that they’d put the time and effort into making their little “case” when there are so, so many more people out there that truly need to be thrown in jail. Like violent criminals for instance. But violence is taken so lightly in this country. I would be surprised if Paula ended up in jail, but not at all surprised if she only got 30 days if she did. The laws are so backward, but that’s why I’m not afraid to defend myself if I were ever attacked. Oh, the pigs would turn it around, alright, and charge me with assault. But unless my perp was black or Mexican, I’d get little more than slapped on the wrist for protecting myself.

Got a view from Mystic, CT. They landed on an entry Tammy “liked.” Sure hope it wasn’t any of her kids. I would guess not, though. Wouldn’t they be a little more curious to check out more than just that entry? Wouldn’t they want to know what I might be saying about them and other family members?

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 5, 2012 No views from Molly’s place since Saturday, but still no messages from Aly either.

When I got up to find a voice message waiting for me I automatically assumed it was from Tammy. Instead, it was from Paula. If her new number is in service for more than 5 minutes then maybe I’ll catch her later on. It’s still only 7am in the east. She’s probably up, but I’ll still wait.

I’m excited about Thursday because Tom has an appointment to meet with someone in park #3. Still don’t know if we’re going to rent to own or just buy something, but hopefully we’ll find out soon enough.

Most of my dreams still continue to be weird or negative, but the overall theme has changed. I’ve gone from poverty to chase dreams. If intruders aren’t after me, it’s me trying to kill strange creatures. Last night it was a frog that grew in size, grew fur and fangs, and took forever to kill even though I’d hit it in the head with a hammer a million times.

I asked Nane if she thought I was joking about the dream premonitions I’ve had and she said no because so many times I have told her about dreams I’ve had involving her and a lot of it actually happened.

Later…

Chatted with my #1 online hottie. Well, she’s my only online hottie, actually. I still, to this day, find myself grinning ear to ear when she “likes” something of mine, leaves comments or sends messages. We talked about talking on the phone after the move (the internet phone cuts out cuz of our shitty connection here and the cells don’t always work well in the mountains). She says she doesn’t call overseas but doesn’t think it’s that expensive. Even if it was a buck an hour I’m sure I could afford a 10-minute chat, LOL. It’d be fun and it’d be nice to hear her speak in English and German. I’ve only heard her speak Turkish so far.

On what’s the cloudiest day in months, I haven’t heard from Tammy yet, but I did call Paula. Turns out I had this other number of hers all along. It was great catching up as hyper as she is. Yeah, she was her usual self, talking a mile a minute, rapidly changing subjects, and hard to get a word in edgewise, LOL.

Turns out she’d heard about all the wildfires in the area and was worried about me. When she didn’t receive a birthday card in May (I thought she might be in jail) and couldn’t get a hold of me she started to wonder if the fires got a little too close.

She’s otherwise not doing too well. She’s on probation and I guess she’s still going to trial for assault and battery with a dangerous weapon, which she might do 30 days for. She’s lucky she’s not in Arizona or Texas, though no state seems to take actions as seriously as words. I just don’t get it. They’ll put you away for a long time if you threaten someone, but if you actually harm them they won’t do much if anything at all, WTF??? Either way, she must have more than one case going since she’s already on probation. The trial is on October 2nd and she pled guilty (stupid thing to do). You would think she’d have learned by now not to succumb to the bullshit threats that come with pleading not guilty. She was probably given false promises for pleading guilty and she fell for it. Now the state gets to make more money off her and feel high on power play.

I don’t know why but she insisted on giving me her SS# and some kind of password in case she goes to jail. I guess so I can look it up online? I know she’s known me forever and all that but I urged her not to give it to anyone else. She can be too trusting and naïve. Nevertheless, as airheaded as my flaky friend of nearly 25 years can be, it was great chatting and laughing over the silliest of silly things.

Another bad thing is that she got a bad infection in her foot and I guess she filed suit against some doctor for malpractice. She was so sick for so long that she dropped from 205 pounds to 148 pounds, which isn’t bad for 5’ 5”.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 4, 2012 As I said on Facebook yesterday, if I can piss people off without even trying, I’d hate to think of what I could do if I actually did try. I was joking with Nane about something and it sort of backfired. She took it all wrong when I was only teasing her yet I still felt bad about it. Finally, I decided that if all I could do was piss people off I better get the hell offline altogether. I was beat by the time we returned yesterday anyway.

Where I dreamt about Molly’s mother like crazy the night before last, last night all I had were nightmares. In two of the dreams, someone broke into the house I was living in which looked nothing like any place I’ve ever really lived in before. I woke up running from one intruder and attacking the other.

We went to 4 different parks yesterday, 2 in the state capital and 2 in nearby towns. Saw some totally gorgeous houses we’ll never have along the way, too. Yeah, it kinda sucks to know we’ll probably never live in a real house again and that we’ll be spending the rest of our lives in trailers, but if they’re not as old, small and dumpy as this place, it won’t matter what it is so long as it’s livable.

I liked each park that I saw better than the last with one HUGE disappointment in the last park. The reason I liked the last two better than the first two was that they weren’t as cramped. The first one was super cramped and even Tom agrees I may not be able to sleep well there. Those trailers are literally packed in like sardines! Furthermore, the two that were for sale were in the worst locations within the park. One was right on the pool and clubhouse, another was backed up right against someone’s parking space. The truck there would literally park right against the bedroom wall. Usually, you at least get a few feet, but not with that place. That truck was just inches away.

The manager greeted us along the way and seemed very nice, and while the park itself was cute and the pool looked so inviting, this one would be our last choice. Even if I could be up during the daytime every day, I think it would get annoying as hell in those particular locations.

Another thing the parks have is RV parking. I definitely wouldn’t want to be near that section of the park either.

So we went through the parks, grabbing flyers and writing down numbers on signs that were on some of the trailers and manufactured homes. I loved the way they would decorate them and all the different plants and trees around the place. I saw plenty of wind chimes too, so no worries about having to give those up. I would prefer to be on and next to lots with gravel instead of grass cuz then I wouldn’t have to worry about mowers. As it is I really think there’s going to be a lot of yard and street activity like what we saw – people trimming trees and bushes, walking their dogs, gabbing in the streets. It’s better than a bunch of screaming kids or loud car stereos tearing through the place, but in some ways, it could be noisier there than here. The only difference is that the noise would be more spread out and hopefully not as loud and concentrated, so to speak.

There are other minor nuisances that could be an issue. Nothing we couldn’t deal with, though. Well, most people smoke, and when you have your windows open that could mean having to deal with smoke wafting into the place with people that close to us.

It was in the last park that I was immensely disappointed to hear 3 dogs, yes 3 dogs, going ballistic. One jumped in an open window and went off on me when I got out to grab a flyer. I didn’t think of that but it makes sense that in a climate where windows can be left open most of the year, dogs would be on the lookout waiting to bark at whoever passed by. And if you’ve got your own window open and there are 8 trailers packed in tightly around you, front, back and on the sides, the barking might not be much better than in the all-ages areas. We only saw one cat the whole time. Pretty much anybody that could have a dog would choose that over a cat.

“We only heard barking in one park,” Tom pointed out. Yeah, but I still think it’ll be an issue on and off throughout the day in virtually any park. They may not be big dogs and they may not be left outside overnight, but there’s nothing in the rules we’ve ever seen that says you can’t leave dogs outdoors unattended or that you have to control their barking. Well, half a dozen to a dozen or so 3-minute barking sprees throughout the day can get just as old as non-stop barking. It all adds up. One place even had a little fence around part of it and there’s no reason they would have a fence like that in a place like that if it weren’t to leave dogs out. I’d hate to have my days sprinkled with barking from 7am – 10pm, but I really don’t think there’s going to be any escape from it no matter where we go. At least it won’t be an overnight thing like it sometimes is here with two big dogs going off for 8 or more hours at a time.

We never saw two of the dogs we heard so I can’t say if they too, ran up to open windows or if they were tethered outside. IDK, maybe the message all along has been trying to tell me to get my own dog. Hey, if we have to listen to barking anyway, maybe it should be our own for once and I’d really like to have a pet that lived 12-15 years instead of 2 like with rats. Beagles are kind of cute and I’ve heard good things about them, so we’ll see. First we gotta get into one of these places and I don’t know if we even can get into the nicer parks.

Tom’s gonna make some calls today from work. We’re gonna go for a newer doublewide first. I don’t expect to be able to get it, but we’ll start from our top choices and work our way down to what will probably be not much bigger and newer than this, but if it has enough space, well, we couldn’t make it newer, but we could make it nicer. That alone will make it seem newer. But you know we were meant to live in old dumps. Fortunately, the parks don’t allow old junky trailers from the 60s like this one. I think in California they can’t be older than 1970. I just wish they’d separate the smokers from the non-smokers, though I REALLY wish they’d separate the dog owners from the non-dog owners even if that meant just 5 trailers out of every 100.

Tom assured me we weren’t stuck here, though, and that even though he didn’t think we’d have to, we could take that dumpy old trailer in the sardine park for 2K. Well, it’s nice to know we could do that if this place burned down or something, but not nice to know it was our only option. I sure hope it isn’t, though it would certainly save us a helluva lot of money. Not even God could make us poor again in a place like that!

Anyway, if the monthly expenses are just 1 or 2 hundred dollars cheaper than this and it has an extra bedroom and bath and it’s OURS, that alone is a major improvement, barking or not.

I can’t wait to try this new nail design just as soon as we grab a newspaper from somewhere where you transfer newspaper print to a light-colored polish. The problem is my nails are so small, LOL. I’ll have to use fine print as I could barely get more than one letter onto my pinky.

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 3, 2012 And the family drama goes on and on and on… Argh! Tammy messaged me from Lisa’s computer saying she still can’t get online. But this is supposedly cuz her computer’s broken. But doesn’t she have the money to get it fixed or to get a new one??? Maybe there’s more to it than I know.

Anyway, all she had to say was that Larry’s causing a lot of issues, Mom was taking his advice, and once again she’s the bad one. Ah, but we have nothing to worry about, she also says, saying that the lawyer will do the right thing. Really? You mean there are cops, judges, and lawyers that “do the right thing?”

If these so-called authority figures had our best interest in mind, then how come, as Tom pointed out, the police don’t care about those who have to live with excessive barking? Really, they don’t give a shit that people like me have to listen to Jesse’s mutts every time he takes off to either get laid by some street whore or play pool all night with his drunken buddies, but they sure as hell give a shit when someone has something to say that they don’t like or agree with. You bet they care then. Words will make people care, but actions won’t matter at all – WTF???

I asked Tom why they bother to make laws (against barking) if no one’s going to enforce them and he pointed out that the people that make the laws aren’t the same ones that are supposed to enforce them. Oh, so then maybe all we need to do is stick a barking dog outside every cop’s house for a good 10 hours or so and then maybe they’ll care enough to get these dog owners to be more responsible, right? Until then I guess they’ll continue to pick and choose what laws they want to enforce based on their own personal experiences and opinions.

As far as my mother goes, I’m fast running out of sympathy. Ok, so I’m sorry she’s depressed, demented and old, but I also wish she would just move onto the Pearly Gates so I can be done with the family drama after 46 years of having to deal with it! Well, make that 36 since I took a decade off. But I took that decade off for a reason and while most may disagree with me, just because my mother gave birth to me doesn’t make her God. It doesn’t make the things she did to me ok. I lost all respect for her years ago and I’m not about to apologize for my feelings nor will I sugarcoat them in any way. Abuse me and you’ll lose me no matter who you are, period. Motherhood does not excuse one from being abusive and I don’t care who may disagree with me or say I’m wrong for my feelings. I don’t care anymore who thinks what about me or who does or doesn’t believe whatever. I feel what I feel and I’m just sick of her and the whole damn family drama as a whole. I’m not obligated to stick around just because I may be related to her, but I will tolerate her existence in my life only because the evil witch supposedly doesn’t have much longer to go. Tammy said she’ll call next week with a health update; something I kind of hope isn’t very good at all. Really, I just wish she would drop dead so I can move on with or without a single penny. That woman spent half my childhood not only making me miserable but also shipping me off to this place or to that place so she could have a quieter, easier life. Well, let’s see God ship HER off for once so I too, can get a little more peace and not have to hear about or deal with the goddamn family drama.

Only problem is most people won’t let me go. Instead, they have to resort to childish, immature stalking and harassment rather than respect my wishes and focus their energies on those who actually want them around. I used to be the same way. It would hurt and piss me off when someone would dump me and I would do everything I could to make that person miserable until it caught up to me and karma bit me in the ass. These days, however, I accept that that’s just life and I let them go and move on. The only one that was hard to let go of and that dumped me over the last several years was Nane because Nane wasn’t just a friend.

So the point is that I’m afraid I’m stuck with Tammy whether I want her in my life or not. Do I? Well, I still don’t feel comfortable with someone in my life who could burn me as bad as she has and who has continued to lie about it because I always worry it will happen again. I don’t know what to do where she’s concerned. If I remain “friends” with her she’ll eventually pressure me to come see her or to let her come see me and neither Tom nor I want that. So what would I say at that point, that we can only be cyber friends? I don’t think that’ll sit well with her. Also, when the next poor spell hits she’d probably help us out so there’s that bridge to consider burning or not burning as well. Like I said, I don’t know what to do. If I do dump her, do I do it silently? Or do I explain and then walk away? And what do I do when she becomes another Kim and Molly? Pretend I don’t know her? That one’s actually kind of funny. The thought of saying I don’t have a sister named Tammy and that she must have the wrong person, but I say otherwise all over my journal. Still, it’s a bit of an amusing thought. sighs I just don’t know what to do. Going underground under a bogus name would be too much work and make me feel dishonest. She’s not worth the effort and neither is any other troll.

Well, I don’t know what I’m going to do just yet. My mother’s not dead yet. But I do know this much and that’s that there’s no law that says I have to associate with my sister or anyone else for that matter. Nor do I need to read and respond to any nasty emails, messages, comments and whatnot they may want to throw at me. So unless they physically come to my door and force me to deal with them, I don’t have to be “stuck” with anyone or succumb to their shit online and be their cyber victim.

Meanwhile, so long as God doesn’t throw yet another curveball at us, we’ll be out scouting parks this morning. Not because we haven’t already seen enough of them, but because we need to start writing down info on for-sale signs. Tom still thinks we’re not going to find a place in an ad but from a sign we see in person.

I was under the impression that all parks are the same and very black and white as far as whose credit is acceptable and whose isn’t. However, he says it would vary from park to park and that by the end of the week, we’ll know more. Yeah, right. I’ll believe it when I see it.

Later…

The nail on my ring finger got a crack in it down by the base so I brushed on some glue to see if that’ll hold it up a while longer. If not I’ll probably cut them all off.

For some reason, I had one dream after another about Molly’s mom last night. Nothing bad, just weird, LOL. Some were long and detailed. I’ll write about them later if I remember to.

I wonder where Alison’s been lately? She peeked in on my blog yesterday but never answered my email. Have I been dumped?

Still don’t know what to make of the random bouts of water retention that hit me out of the blue at odd times of the month. I also don’t like the fact that I not only can’t lose weight on 1500 calories a day plus exercise, but I can even gain weight on that. Finally, I said to myself, if you want to know if something’s wrong with you and if you should see a doctor, starve yourself! If you don’t lose weight then, then yes, something’s wrong.

But it sure is easier said than done. I got up at midnight and had a yogurt a couple of hours later before I went to work out. I can’t work out on an empty stomach. But around 5am the hunger pangs started biting really hard, so I had a protein bar about an hour later. It took a while for my stomach to get that there was now a little food in it, so the pangs backed off somewhat. How could I stand to be anorexic in my late teens???

I miss allowing anonymous comments on my blogs, but I know that if I do I’ll just get hit with spam, scammers, trolls and other shit like that. I don’t need people telling me no one cares about what I have to say (even though they cared enough to take the time to read my blog) or to be told to contact them so they can show me their picture, or phishers telling me to contact the FBI and other law enforcement agencies or else! It’s always the same old shit, though some comments were interesting.

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 2, 2012 I stripped the plum crackle and white and glazed my nails in Boathouse, which my mom sent me a couple of years ago or so. I used to think that particular shade of red was dazzling but now it just seems so there. It’s almost all used up anyway.

Andy asked for a close-up of my face. Of this fat, old ugly face? Not sure he’d like to see that. Really, I’m not getting any thinner, younger or prettier! On the other hand, why hide forever, right? We all get old and most of us get fat with age, too. Nothing anyone thinks is going to change things anyway, so one of these days I’ll take some face shots. Just not right now.

Now I’m just wishing to hell I knew what was going on so we could get on with our lives. All I do know is that we can’t afford first best. That means settling for second best (if the parks will let us) or giving the Jes pest’s place a serious makeover so we can live here more comfortably until he retires in a decade or so. The thought of staying here another decade both saddens and frustrates me, but as I’ve said many times before, there are worse places to be. Staying here wouldn’t be the end of the world. Someday we will get out of here, though. We really won’t be here forever. But if we weren’t meant to be here we wouldn’t have been here for so long, and I have a feeling we’re not getting out anytime soon so we might as well just make the best of it. One way to do that is to focus on what I would’ve missed had we moved. I would’ve missed people not parking alongside us. I would’ve missed not having people be able to drive by the place, even if they were all park residents. I would’ve missed being surrounded by so much nature. To open the back windows and see nothing but trees is really nice.

Our credit is so bad that I’m almost positive that all we’d be able to rent from were individuals like Jesse. Well, why move from one individually owned dump to another since anything nicer would be well over a grand a month? It also may include a much peskier landlord and a lot more barking. Almost all the rural rentals are on shared lots. If you don’t live with the landlord you live with other renters. Still, I’m willing to try for the best of what we can afford in a 55+ place even though I’m 80% - 90% sure they’ll turn us down despite the fact that we can prove we pay more right here each month.

Andy’s mom has her place up for sale. She’s going to live in a senior place herself. Two prospective buyers failed to show up, he said. I still don’t get the failing to keep appointments or dates. What do people get out of it? Is it just funny to them or something? Well, we’re not going to do business with anyone who’s unreliable, bad credit or not.

I’ve been in places I didn’t want to be in for most of my life. It’s nothing new to me and I’m plenty used to it. Those are just the places I was meant to be in, even if it doesn’t seem fair and I don’t get why. As I pointed out to Tom yesterday, we lost two places of our own yet even when the situation seemed totally hopeless as it did last fall, we sure couldn’t lose someone else’s dumpy heap of shit, could we?

Later…

When Obama was first elected I had mixed emotions about it. I was glad to see a Democrat back in power, and sure it was nice to see the first black president. But I was also bothered by it because I don’t believe we’ll ever see our first woman or gay president and because I believe he was chosen mostly for his color. Sorry, but I’m just not ok with favoring any group in particular any more than I’m okay with shitting on a particular group. But that’s just the way the world is in 2012 – gays are shit on the most, whites are sort of in the middle, and non-whites are the favorites. They rule the courts, workplaces, and residential areas in most of the country now, and that’s not going to change anytime soon whether I like it or not.

But the reason I hope Obama’s reelected has nothing to do with his color. Unlike most people, I see beyond color and into what really matters. What matters is that I not only think he turned out to be the best president ever since he got the healthcare thing to pass as well as the abolishment of Don’t Ask Don’t Tell in the military, but he’s a Democrat. I hate Republicans because they don’t believe women and gays should ever have any rights. All politicians may be high on power and greed, but I know I sure as hell don’t want a president who works for the so-called straight male only.

Again I deactivated on Twitter cuz again I just couldn’t get into that site. There’s just no point in it for me, and they won’t stop forcing promoted tweets on people’s timelines, which to me is like spam.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 1, 2012 Been getting views from Molly’s residence nearly every day. But who is it and what do they want? Why are they showing up as being in Brownsville? There’s no doubt, though, that even though the map puts them in the middle of nowhere and right next to a reservoir, it’s from Molly’s place. She’s appeared as being in Brownsville before and I got a visit from this location when Aly said Mrs. M blasted Regina about me mentioning Molly going into a group home.

I was under the impression Molly was going to live at this group home which is just south of Austin. That means it’s probably the mother peeking in on me, but if she’s a high school teacher, what would she be doing looking in at me in the middle of the day on a Friday? Hasn’t school started yet? She looked in again a few hours later. Am I that interesting or is she really that curious as to what I may say about Molly, something I’ve been making a point of not doing? She strikes me as the same hateful, vindictive bitch as the black one in Arizona, so she’s probably looking for ways to file her precious little suit against me. rolls eyes

For the most part, my mother made me suppress my emotions as a child, and when I did make the mistake of going to her about something that angered or depressed me, it was usually just that – a mistake. She often made me feel worse than I did to begin with and ashamed or wrong for my feelings. As soon as I became an adult, however, I wasted no time catching up on venting. So that’s a big part of why I don’t hesitate to whine and complain about things that upset me. I’m naturally a blunt, outspoken kind of person who’s not afraid to risk offending or annoying people with my thoughts, beliefs and opinions, but part of why I’m so outspoken is because I was forced to hold back for so long. I don’t mean to offend or upset anyone, mind you, but no one can please everyone. There’s no way to know who may take offense to whatever. I could piss someone off just by saying that the taste of oranges sucks. But I also believe in freedom of speech and that anyone who doesn’t like what I may have to say can simply not tune into my blog. We all have a right to be who we are so long as we’re not threatening or harming anyone. I don’t read anybody’s stuff I don’t like, so why should you? I just wanted to make this clear. Yes, I know I’m a whiner, but no one’s obligated to put up with it either.

But for those of you who don’t mind, tonight’s complaint is the weather. It’s 54° right now at nearly 3am. I had to shut both windows and vents. They should be able to remain open round the clock again soon cuz it shouldn’t be getting under 60° for a while. It’s just tonight that’s particularly chilly.

Doing laundry, grocery lists and things like that now. Gave the bathroom a half-assed cleaning.

Ended up chatting with Nane yesterday and exchanging wall posts. The usual things we do on Facebook that’s really nice. We’re both into nature pics.

Later…

Just sitting here waiting for Tom to return with the weekend goodies – turtle cheesecake, crackers, etc. while I finish up the laundry.

It’s freezing in here now. It got down to 68°. If it weren’t for the fact that the temp is now coming up I’d kick on the portable and just heat up this room. In just a few hours, though, it’ll be toasty warm.

I’m slowing down the use of propane now that I know we’re not going anywhere anytime soon. I should’ve figured as much.

Wish I could motivate myself to work on some stories.

Although it’s not as much anymore since she got her promotion, I still hear from Christine at times. Not much from Maliheh lately, though. I guess she’s in Hawaii now visiting her mom.

Molly or Mommy Dearest just checked me out.

Later…

And again she checked me out.

Ah, that cheesecake and those chips and crackers were good. :)

Tom bought me a little present that was on close-out. Plum-colored crackle polish over a bright white base. That Facebook nail photo album sure is growing!

[sunnyie-eve]

Devastated || 11. Motive

Paring: (Christopher "Sully" Sullivan x Original Female Character Mance!)

Word Count: 2189

Warnings: slight language

Last: Register | Next: Remorseful

"It's just-," Henry starts so Sully cuts in.

"Dude, can't we stop please? Right now we're looking for Trish. So why don't we just head to the sheriff's station? Trish could have went there looking for Danny."

"Danny's dead." Henry lets him know.

"You don't know that."

"So it Trish." He makes Sully turn to look at him, "I killed her."

"Hey, shut up, man. Seriously, just shut up."

"I killed my brother too. At the marina. I'm the rain. Remember? Abby almost caught me." Henry tells him the truth as Sully gets scared.

"Okay, what are you doing, Henry? I don't..."

"Coming clean. It's time to start a new life. You're my friend. You deserve to know before I... Well it's not like I killed then all. My dad did a lot." Henry walks towards him as Sully walks backwards.

"Your dad is dead. I went to his funeral."

"Oh, no, man, not that guy. Not that liar. My real dad. John Wakefield. He's the only person who's told me the truth." Henry keeps stepping forward.

"No. Y-y-you've been my best friend since junior high."

"Yeah." Henry takes out his knife.

"Oh, come on. Henry don't." Sully tells him gets scared more. "Don't make me shoot you." Sully raises his gun.

"I decapitated Reverend Fain. I harpooned Richard Allen. I even stabbed Katherine in the Candlewick while everyone was running around looking for Madison. Pretty exciting stuff."

"Do you want me to kill you?" Sully asks, causing Henry to chuckle.

"Hey, here's something funny. Do you remember that money we found? It was Uncle Marty's. He wanted to invest in Malcolm's brewery, be the big hero, save the day. I wanted Malcolm to find the cash see what would happen. He made good beer, didn't he?"

"You son of a bitch." Sully goes to shoot but nothing happens so Henry shows the shells he took out of it.

"Sorry. But it's gotta happen."

"So you're going to kill Jennifer when you get the chance?" Sully asks him.

"Of course not, no. That was never the plan. Just like how you're not supposed to get her either." Henry lets him know as Wakefield walks up.

At that moment, Jennifer finally sees Henry and Sully then Wakefield walking up to them. She runs from the side, full speed, basically tackling Henry as he stabs Sully. As Henry was on the ground, Wakefield tries to finish Sully, but Jennifer grabs Sully's hand running, only to tumble down a small hill then a larger one with a slight drop off.

Henry looks in the distance they went, "They won't get far. We can come back to them after the other two. Now, time to ring the bell." Wakefield makes his gun go off into the sky.

Meanwhile, Sully and Jennifer lay on the ground groaning in pain, "Sully!" She crawls over it him as he groans in serious pain. Jennifer sees blood and starts to cry, "We need to stitch you up to stop the bleeding. He just got a stab in. We can still do something about it." She panics.

"I think my arm is broken." He groans.

"Come on. We gotta get going." She helped him up but his ankle was sprained. "Sully, push through, please. I can't let you die now." She puts his good arm around her and they slowly walk away.

While they make their way out of the woods, Abby and Jimmy run into Henry. "Where's Sully and the others?" Abby asks him.

"I haven't seen them. I've been looking for Trish." Henry says, not realizing he messed up.

Abby tells Henry about Trish, and they discover her body is missing when they return to show him. Henry suggests that Trish could still be alive, and they must continue the search. Jimmy informs Henry, Trish is really dead, and Henry blows up. Henry runs into the woods looking for Trish, and Abby and Jimmy follow.

"I think we're getting closer." Jennifer tells Sully, still holding up his weight.

"We should go to the marina." He tells her, out of breath.

"You won't make it there if I don't take care of you." She tells him.

"Just leave me so you can get out of here. He wants you, Jen." Sully tells he.

"I don't care right now because I'm not leaving your side. Especially now." She huffs.

"I can't believe it's Henry... How did you know?"

"I had a bad feeling about him for the last few hours. Then he said something Wakefield said word for word as you guys left. Then after some thinking it hit me." She explains to him, Also,  you owe me an apology for thinking it was Jimmy." She gives him a weak smile.

"I'm sorry." He groans in pain with a smile.

Soon they hear the helicopter and look up, looking for it as they keep walking. At that moment, Abby runs outside from the church to signal for help while Wakefield yells to Henry that Abby is getting away, and Jimmy catches on.

Abby searches for the helicopter outside as Jimmy lights a flare and shoves it into Wakefield's stomach before tossing it into a curtain and running.

Wakefield instructs Henry to finish, and he is seen firing a shot toward Jimmy. Abby runs through the woods searching for the helicopter, and Henry runs after her.

He meets up with Abby, informing her that Jimmy didn't make it. Henry asks where to meet the coast guard as Abby begins to realize that Henry has been lying, and Henry pulls out his pocket knife.

Wakefield appears behind Abby as Henry shows her the knife. Henry pushes her out of the way and stabs Wakefield.

"Henry..." Wakefield says his name, so Abby runs as she realizes Henry is Wakefield's child. Henry grabs her and pulls her backward, knocking her unconscious on the ground.

After taking Abby to the house and locking her in the room, he goes to look for Sully and Jennifer. It didn't take him long to find them since he knew where Jennifer would want to take Sully.

"Jenny," Henry says her name making them turn to face him.

"Stay away." She tells him.

"I'm not going to hurt you." He walked closer to them, and Jennifer was basically holding all of Sully's weight up now since he was doing really bad at the moment.

"Henry, please." She begs him.

"Wakefield is dead. I killed him." He walks closer, and as she tries to back away, Sully falls to the ground causing her to bend down to him.

"Sully, come on. Stay awake." She cries. "Henry, please. Just let me take care of him. I'll do whatever you want but please. For me." She turns to him, looking up at him sobbing.

He didn't want to, but he agreed, taking them to where he took Abby. Sully was unconscious but was still alive, so Jennifer was happy he still had a heartbeat. She stitched up his stab wound, wrapping his ankle and arm best as she could before Henry dragged him out, tying him up where he had Jimmy.

"What did you do with him?!" She shouts as Henry comes back inside.

"He's fine. I didn't hurt him." He grabs her shoulders.

"Don't touch me!" She screams at him moving away. "Why? Why do all of this?" She cries.

"It's okay, calm down. I'll explain everything once you go clean up, please. I promise. You're safe, Jen." He tells her, so she listens, only wanting to get her surroundings and will play along till she can make a move.

When she was changed, she goes back downstairs to Henry, "Start explaining." She holds herself.

"It was all part of the plan. The three of us. You, Abby, and I. When we were kids how we hated that I had to leave the island. Remember how you and Abby said you both wish I could live here forever with you two. Just the three of us? Now we can." He smiles, and Jennifer thinks he was out of his fucking mind.

"You killed everyone for this?"

"Not everyone. I just killed Ben, Fain, Thomas, Richard, Malcolm, JD, Katherine, Trish, and Dad." He walks towards her, and she stays still.

"You killed your own brother?"

"He had to go for this, and he wasn't my real brother. I despised my parents for never telling me I was adopted, and I hated Sarah for throwing me away. At least your mother kept you, Jenny." He explains to her.

"How did you meet him?"

"I met him the day of the rampage. I didn't know he was my father then. But when I looked at him, there was a connection. I was inspired by him. Then about a year after the rampage, he tracked me down. He told me I was his son, that he's been searching his whole life for me. And trying to figure out how to see you and tell you the truth that you were his daughter. He taught me how to kill, and we had a plan. He wanted to get his daughter and get back at Abby. But I had other plans, of course." He rubs her shoulders as she listens to him.

"You betrayed your dad?" She keeps eye contact with him.

"Our dad, yes. Because I love you and Abby more." He makes her finally move away out of his touch.

"No, no, you don't. If you did, you wouldn't have put us through this." She walks backwards as he walks forward. "Where's Jimmy? Where did you take Sully?" She raises her voice.

"Jimmy and Sully are together, but I can't keep him here for too long. He has to go, Jen. You know that. It's only supposed to be us three."

"What are you going to do to Jimmy?" She asks, scared.

"I've kept Jimmy alive to set him up as Wakefield's accomplice." He says so she tries to think of how she can save Sully for some time, "The police believe we're all dead, thanks to blood samples I planted at the church."

"You're going to kill Sully?" She says, so he nods his head.

"I'm sick of him always asking throughout the years for me to help him get you. Do you think I like hearing him want you when it's my plan to have you here? He doesn't deserve you, yet here you are, caring for him and kissing him now? What happened to never going to happen?" He gets loud with her.

"As I told Danny, shit happens! And I told you, I have always had a thing for him."

"YOU ARN'T SUPPOST TO! Not him. You are smarter than that, Jen. And I'm going to make sure he stays out of the picture." He slightly snaps at her.

"You don't have to kill him! At least not yet...." A lightbulb goes off, "Wakefield can have two accomplices... Sully could have given them details about where Thomas would stand and helped them get around the hotel by distracting the others. And Sully can say that he only helped Shea and Madison get away because he would feel bad if a child died... He was their provider for information while they did the killings." She tells him, "He'll agree to do it for me. I promise. And Jimmy will too. If he knows Abby and I are okay."

Henry thinks it over before agreeing, "You're so smart, aren't you." He kisses her forehead, making her scream on the inside.

"Can I see them?" She turns to ask him as he walks into the kitchen. "Please, Henry. Just let Jimmy see me." She walks over to him.

"Fine." He grabs her wrist, taking her to where they were tied up.

She goes to Jimmy first, wrapping her arms around him and crying, "I promise I'm trying to figure something out." She whispers in his ear, "You're my only brother." She says before seeing Sully watching her, so she rushes over to him. "How are you feeling?" She cups his face so he moves his head from side to side.

Sully looks over at Henry, watching them closely, "Few more seconds, Jen." He tells her, so she pulls Sully's gag down so he leans forward to kiss her.

"I love you." He tells her, so Henry walks over pulling Jennifer up roughly, dragging her out and back to the house.

"Let go of me!" She fights him.

"He doesn't really love you." Henry says through his teeth, shoving her into a room and locking her in. "I'll let you out when you realize he doesn't love you like I love you." He walks away to see Abby walked downstairs.

While he tried to talk to her, Jennifer tried to get the window open, but of course, it wouldn't budge. She could hear Abby up so she banged on the door for her, but she never came because she ran back upstairs. Jennifer hears everything going on, so she gives up on trying to get out sitting on the floor in a corner. 

[thisisadaseyblog]

Okay, let’s talk for a minute about ALL these relationships, because let’s face it, they are all pretty cute!

George/Casey:

Okay I can gush about this for a while!! But my favorite scene between these two is in Driving Lessons, when George is like “Um Casey can you drive the kids to all their things because I’m not legally allowed to do that right now.” George is aware that he is kind of a disaster parent and there are often moments where he looks to Casey to help him out, bc while he loves Nora, he’s kind of scared of her too. You can tell he really admires Casey and I love how she is like “aw come on George” but agrees to help him anyway. Also when George kisses her on the forehead in Not So Sweet 16!! So sweet! He often sympathizes with Derek drama too. Underrated relationship.

George/Lizzie:

You all are SLEEPING on George and Lizzie! There are so many cute moments between them! I think George can sense that Lizzie is a kind and honest soul; I love the scenes where Casey and Derek are arguing and he asks Lizzie to fill him in. Also him teaching her how to dance!!! But the BEST is in Futuritis when the two of them are bonding over how crazy their family is and Lizzie is like “what did Derek do this time?” and lets him talk to her without judgment. CUTE.

Nora/Derek:

“Although I've never mentioned this, I have grown to love you.” OMG!!! I could stop right there but there is more to talk about. First of all! I love how in Babe Raider, Derek admits that he likes Nora: “I like her Dad, but you married her.” Derek never admits to liking anybody except Marti once in a while! And the fact that this happened so early on in the show is noteworthy, since they haven’t interacted too much but Nora has clearly done something to win him over. Also I love when he’s trying to pull the wool over her eyes and she amusedly sees through his bullshit. Middle Manic comes to mind. Plus in Slacker Mom when she is freaking out about the fun fair, Derek goes to tell Casey to help her mom, for no other reason than that he knows Nora needs help!

Nora/Edwin:

I get why they got no votes, but they do have their moments! Truman's Last Chance, for example. The way they are plotting and conversing together about Casey and Lizzie’s relationships. According to Lizzie her mom is kind of a gossip with the other moms, and Ed seems to live for drama (as an observer) so I think that they will potentially grow and bond over that in the future lol.

Nora/Marti:

Adorable the way Nora plays with her all the time: the scene in Make No Promises with the Barbies is precious. AND in Two Kisses One Party when they plan the birthday party! Nora may not be Marti's bio mom but the two of them have one of the easiest step-relationships; you can tell Nora completely accepts her as her own and Marti loves her back.

Derek/Lizzie:

Derek tries to vilify Lizzie like he does Casey but it NEVER WORKS because Lizzie is just too nice for him. And eventually, he gives in and openly likes her. “As my coach or my stepbrother?” “As your big brother?" It's too much!!! And as adults, I like to think that Derek would be able to lean on her as a non-judgmental ear if he ever has any beef with the family. (*cough* Dasey *cough*)

Casey/Edwin:

There are a lot of cute scenes between these two and I wish we had more! Babe Raider, Cheerleader Casey, and No More Games all come to mind. They find it easy to just play and have fun together without any awkwardness or “do I like you or not” seesaw. Her helping him to become the mascot was the sweetest! She’s always willing to give help and he’s always willing to accept it, and vice versa. They’re also both obsessed with Derek and they bond over it sometimes (I.e. Derek Denies Denial) which is kind of weird tbh but also sweet.

Casey/Marti:

Okay, we all know Summer School Blues is the GOAT for these two, but let’s take a moment to appreciate Ivanwho! Marti comes into Casey’s room to sleep with all her stuffed animals because she wants to feel safe! She loves her Smerek but she looks up to Casey and wants to be just like her one day. I can't! I also think Surprise shows how their relationship develops; at the beginning of the show she's just the little kid that Casey occasionally takes care of, but by the end she wants to be a part of the "sister club." Aww.

Lizzie/Marti:

It’s not apparent until Season 4 and onward, but there is something going on with these two. By the end of Futuritis Marti is starting to want to become part of the “sister club” rather than just the little girl off in her own world. And Lizzie lets her sit on her lap during graduation. Plus the way they teamed up to take in the dog! Animal lovers unite! Furthermore! In Vacation with Derek, Lizzie and Marti are hanging out the ENTIRE MOVIE. Suddenly it’s Edwin who is the third wheel and complaining he has nothing to do. I’m telling you, these two become close!

[kitchenisking]

January Fic Rec

It's been one full year since I've started doing recs😱 Ive got so many new followers which blows my mind and everyone seems to love the recs! I can't believe that's its been a full year! All this started because I was reading so many fics and my friend told me that I should share all the amazing fics that I was reading. I never thought that it would kinda explode like it did. I truly enjoy doing these recs and I promise that I will continue doing recs, I have so many fics to read - Im not going anywhere😘

I would like to apologize if there any repeat fics on the list. If it happens I guess just enjoy the reread like it did😉

I hope that everyone has a good new years and that this year bring only good things for everyone!❤️

Please remember to show love to our writers🥰

Feeling You by secretfanboy - (Rating: T, Words: 6158, sterek)

When Derek loses his sight and hearing saving Scott from an attack, the Stilinski's take him in. As nurse and patient Stiles and Derek grow closer, but what will happen when Derek gets better? Will Stiles be left with a broken heart?

Where to Search for Snow by suburbanmotel - (Rating: Mature, Words: 8954, sterek)

Stiles and his Gigantic Repressed Feelings accidentally affect the weather. A lot. Like. A lot.

//

  “It’s snowing, Stiles,” says Derek.

Stiles looks up. He nods. “Yeah. Yeah it is.”

Derek looks at him. “It’s snowing, Stiles. In your bedroom.”

This Burn We Feel by HappyJuicyfruit - (Rating: G, Words: 3614, sterek)

“It hurts here?” His mother asked, running a hand over his knee. 

Derek nodded. 

“You didn’t fall down? Or hit it on anything?” 

Derek shook his head, his lip wobbling. 

“Oh sweetheart, this is a good thing,” his mother cooed. Derek bit his lip and stared at her. He did not see how this could be a good thing. “It’s your soulmate.” 

Soulmate? Derek blinked, looking down at his knee. He knew about soulmates. He knew his parents were soulmates, and that they always knew what the other was doing. Mommy felt what Daddy felt, and Daddy felt what Mommy felt. 

He didn’t think it was supposed to last this long though. 

— From the prompt: Soulmates can feel when their other half is in pain; emotional and physical.

Even Greenberg has a Soulmate by Beerwolves, Deancebra - (Rating: T, Words: 22628, sterek)

Stiles was of the firm belief that he didn't have soulmate. Not even as a kid had he had unexplained damage to his skin, showing where his soulmate had hit themselves. Sometimes he felt as if he saw the ghost of a bruise, but it was always gone faster than he could take a picture to prove it. So yeah. Probably just his damned imagination. And if Derek and his gang would stop pointing that out... well, it would be really fucking great now, wouldn't it?

Fly a Little Faster by mirrorkill - (Rating: T, Words: 32052, sterek)

Everyone knows when you go back in time, you shouldn't step on an ant, just in case you accidentally kill your own grandparent or something. But what happens when you go back in time and, uh, accidentally interrupt the one event that apparently made the Grumpiest Alpha in Town into a ball of mindless manpain? 

Well, if Marty McFly can do it, so can Stiles Stilinski. All he has to do is get Derek and Paige to fall in love before he gets pulled back to his own time. And before he makes anything worse. That's easy as pie, right? Right?

my heart's been offline by thepsychicclam - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 58893, sterek)

31/M/New York. Rich, lays in bed all day, likes to read (aka Derek Hale, son of an Oscar winning actress, brother of one obnoxious reality star and one rebellious fashion designer, hates the paparazzi so much he's a recluse)

26/M/California. Boring office job, likes to read (aka Stiles Stilinski, co-owner of a 100 acre organic farm with his dad and two best friends, writer of obits for a newspaper, has absolutely no life)

Or, where Derek and Stiles meet online, and Stiles has no clue Derek's part of a famous family.

The Music (Howls) Of The Night by tumtatumtum - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 5326, sterek)

The Phantom of the Opera AU where Omega!Stiles plays Christine to Alpha!Derek's Phantom.

Except in this version, people hit high notes for completely different reasons.

The hurry's gonna bring you to your knees. by Alysaria_Jones - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 6640, sterek)

Stiles is experiencing an odd side effect of the witches curse. Strangely enough, he finds that Derek is the only one who can dull the ache between his thighs.

The New Teacher by everchanginginks, TwistedAmusement13 - (Rating: Mature, Words: 9562, sterek)

Derek, a world-weary English teacher pushing 40, is roped into a wet night out by his best friends. He finds himself charmed by a flirty college student who introduces himself as Stiles. They share an incredible night, but Stiles leaves before Derek wakes up. Thinking that he'll never see Stiles again, Derek bitterly gets ready for work at Beacon Hills High School. He's in for a bit of shock when he's introduced to the newly hired science teacher...

appetite (until your hunger is satisfied) by orphan_account - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 2803, sterek)

In a surprising twist of events, he hadn't come home covered in blood (or monster slime, or other gross bodily fluids that are supposed to stay insidethe body and not smeared on his clothes), he wasn't bleeding and neither were his friends when he left them. For the first time in, well, ever, it seemed like they finally managed to find the one supernatural creature with a bit of sense of preservation who, miracle of miracles, didn't think killing everything that moved was a perfectly good way to pass the time. Stiles had been suitably impressed.

Or: Derek walks in on Stiles' alone time and decides to join in.

[fandom-imagines-stories]

The Best Medicine

Steve Harrington x Reader

Words: 2127

Summary: Your boyfriend finds out you’re sick and calls off work to take care of you. 

Notes: I’ve written one like this with Stiles Stilinski and I’ve been miserable and sick recently, so I needed this. No plot, just fluff. Seriously, this is kind of a mess. 

More imagines: HERE

-

It was supposed to be the best summer ever. You were going to lay in the sun, hang out with your friends, and, most of all, spend more time with your newly-graduated boyfriend. Steve was having a hard time since he didn’t get into any colleges he wanted, so you were going to be sure to give him a summer he wouldn’t forget. 

And so far, he’s been working, you’ve been working and anytime you actually have together, Dustin typically tags along. You loved the kid, but it was two weeks into the summer and you and Steve haven’t had a moment alone together. 

You were going to surprise him today with a picnic after he got off work. Instead, you’d spent the morning lying on the couch with a cold towel on your forehead, feeling like certain death. It was hard to imagine a romantic night out when you were coughing up a lung. 

“Sweetie, phone!” Your mom called from downstairs. 

You were so out of it you hadn’t even heard it ringing. 

Once you got to high school, your parents finally let you put a phone in your room, though you rarely used it since your mother liked to eavesdrop. 

“Hello?” You answered. Even your voice sounded disgusting, clouded with congestion and hoarse from coughing all morning. 

“God you sound awful, are you okay?” 

“Oh,” you sniffed. “Hey, Steve.” 

“The twins told Dustin who told me that you weren’t feeling well.”

“I’ve been better.” 

Your mom popped her head in your door. 

“Hey, your dad and I are heading out,” she said. She examined you, wrapped in your blankets surrounded by piles of tissues. “Are you sure you can watch the boys this weekend? We can always reschedule this trip-”

“No, mom, I’ll be fine.” You tried to make your voice as chipper as possible but it was a poor attempt. “Besides, the boys are getting to the age that they don’t need a babysitter.”

“Well, what about you?” 

“I don’t need anyone to take care of me. I promise.” You gave her a pathetic smile. “Enjoy your trip.” 

“Okay.” She surrendered. “But call if you need something, alright?”

You nodded and shooed her out of your room. 

“Wait, your parents are leaving you like that?” Steve said. You’d almost forgotten he was on the line. 

“Yeah, they’ve had this trip planned for months now. I told them I could watch the twins and I don’t want her to worry. I’m okay, really.” 

Just as you said that you erupted into a fit of coughs. On the other end, there was shuffling followed by the sound of jingling keys. 

“I’m coming over.” 

You sighed. “Seriously, Steve, I’m okay-”

“Bullshit. I’m calling off work so someone can stay with you and help with the boys.”

“But-”

“No buts, I’m already on my way to the door. I’ll see you in a bit.” You started to put the phone down but heard his voice again. “Oh, Y/N.”

“Yes Steve?”

“I love you.” 

He’d see you in less than five minutes and he was worried that he almost let you hang up without him saying it. 

You smiled. “I love you too. See you soon.” 

-

Your brothers were at the arcade with their friends, so you had the rest of the morning to yourself. Cam and Marty were a little bit younger than Dustin and his friends- closer to Lucas Sinclair’s sister Erica’s age- but the older boys let them tag along. 

You were pretty sure it was because Steve made them play nice, but you appreciated it nonetheless. 

The doorbell’s chime rang throughout the empty house. You gathered your blankets around you and shuffled down the stairs. Sure enough, you could see the brown quaffs of hair through the window. 

“Sorry I’m late, honey,” Steve greeted as you opened the door. “I dropped by the store.” He held up the pile of supplies in his arms. From snacks to soup to extra tissues, he’d thought of everything. He kissed your cheek and brushed past you inside. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” you said. 

“And you shouldn’t be walking around.” He laid out everything on the kitchen table and glanced over his options. “I’m going to make you some tea. You like tea, right? I found this stuff that’s supposed to be good for congestion and stuff.” 

“I really don’t need you to do that.”

He put his hands on his hips and gave you a stern look. “Hey, I don’t want any stubbornness out of you, so just shush and go lay down.” 

You raised a brow at his tone. “The mom voice? Really?” 

“You’re right. Sorry,” he sighed and put his hands on your shoulders. “But seriously, I want you to rest and let me handle everything.” He kept one hand on your arm and moved the other to your forehead, then your cheek. His soft brown eyes looked into yours and even though your head was hazy from the fever, you still got butterflies in your stomach. “Just let me take care of you, okay?” 

You gave him a small smile and nodded. 

While Steve filled the kettle, you found a spot on the couch and burrowed into the cushions. Sweat dotted your forehead despite the chills running up and down your body.  

“Babe, do you want me to make you some soup?” 

You groaned in response. 

“I’m gonna make some soup.” 

You coughed, which then turned into another, and suddenly a whole coughing fit started before you could stop it. Steve was beside you in seconds, his hand rubbing soothing circles along your back until you could finally breathe again.  

“This… sucks…” you wheezed. He gave you a sympathetic smile and kissed your forehead. You pulled back. “You know, you’re probably going to get sick too.” 

Steve just shrugged. “I’ll take my chances.” 

The squealing sound of the kettle pierced the air and he gave you one more kiss atop your head before walking back to the kitchen and pouring you a cup of tea. You sat up to take the mug from him and brought the hot liquid to your lips. He was right. The tea obviously wasn’t a magic healing potion, but once you’d had a few sips, your coughing let up a little bit. 

Healing potion?

You were spending too much time with your brothers. 

The front door burst open and the two little devils themselves came crashing in, chasing each other and screaming and making your head feel like it was going to explode. 

Okay, headache too? What kind of sickness was this bullshit? 

“Hey, Ewoks,” Steve barked, his ‘mom voice’ returning. “Both of you, sit down.”

“Ewoks?” You whispered with a laugh. 

He paused, realizing what he said. He shook his head. “God, I’m spending too much time with Dustin.” 

Cameron and Marty looked dubiously at Steve but did as he said and sat in the chairs across from you. Steve leaned over the back of the couch, staring down your brothers with the expression you’d seen him use on Dustin on a few occasions. 

“Alright boys, this is a one-time offer. Break the terms and I will make your weekend a boring hell,” he said sternly. “Obviously, your sister isn’t feeling great, so you two need to be extra caring little brothers. I’m talking angelic, alright?” 

Marty stroked his chin thoughtfully, trying to look older than he was. “What’s in it for us, Harrington?” 

Steve crossed his arms. “In exchange for total obedience and minimal annoyance, I’m willing to grant both of you an extra hour of TV time every night all weekend long.” He held up a finger. “With complete control of the remote.” 

The twins looked at each other, then back at Steve. Cam sat back in his chair. 

“Make it two and you’ve got a deal.” 

Steve nodded and the twins exchanged a victorious high five. 

“Until then,” Steve started, keeping his stern tone, “you two will get your sister anything she needs. I’m talking tissues, snacks, blankets, and if she wants you to fan her, you fan her. She is the queen of the household. Do that, and you’ve got your TV time and a slightly extended curfew.” 

“Define slightly extended.” 

Steve narrowed his eyes. “Don’t push it.” 

The boys shuffled up the stairs and you just stared at Steve in amazement. 

“How did you do that?” 

“I told you. I’m a damn good babysitter.” He jumped over the back of the couch and plopped into the seat next to you, slinging an arm over your shoulders. “Plus bribery always works with these kids.” 

You shook your head and smiled, leaning into him. 

Steve had you eat some soup and, when it was time for the boys to take over the TV, he carried you up to your room.

“I can walk just fine,” you scoffed. 

“Will you just let me be romantic?” 

You ended up laying in bed with your head in his lap. He picked out your favorite record and a new issue of Teen Beat and played with your hair as he read silly articles the two of you made fun of. 

“Hey, Steve.”

“Hmmm?” He hummed. 

You looked up at him through your lashes. “I’m really glad you’re here.” 

He beamed and ran a finger along your cheek, to your shoulder, all the way down to your hand. He brought your palm to his lips.

“I’ll always be around when you need me.” 

And you knew he would. 

At the beginning of your relationship, you never understood why he hung out at your house so much or stayed out with Tommy and Carol even though they were terrible friends. But the more you came to know him, the more you understood his desire to stay away from home. 

Steve hated being alone in that big empty house. 

By taking care of you, he was helping to heal himself, in a way. Like being together was some kind of medicine for the both of you. 

“Alright,” Steve sighed, looking down at his watch, “I should probably start dinner so the gremlins don’t starve.” He started to move, but you groaned and wrapped your arms around his middle. 

“Just order a pizza,” you whined. 

He chuckled and pulled you fully into his lap. “You know, what are you brother’s going to say about me spending so much time in your room?”

You shrugged and cuddled closer to him. “I don’t think they’ll say anything.” 

“Why’s that?”

“Because,” you drew out the word teasingly, “if my parents found out, they wouldn’t let you come over anymore and the twins would hate that almost as much as I would. They kinda love you.” 

“Really?”

You nodded. 

“Huh,” he said. Changing his attention back to you, he cocked a brow and smirked. “And what about you? Do you kinda love me?” 

You tapped your chin in mocking thought and he pouted his lips. After a moment of dramatic pause, you attacked his sides with tickling fingers. 

“Hey, woah!” He exclaimed. His hands latched onto your wrists and you erupted in a fit of giggles. “I can see you’re feeling much better.” 

“Oh no, I’m still very sick, Dr. Harrington.” You threw a hand over your forehead and coughed. “I think I’m going to need much more attention.” 

“You think so, huh?” 

You grinned and kissed his nose. “Definitely.” 

“Well, you have my full and undivided attention, miss,” he said. He held up a finger. “After I get you and your brothers some food.” 

Now it was your turn to pout. 

Steve pried himself out of your arms and laid you down against your pillows. He tucked your body under your covers and pressed his lips to your temple. 

“I want you to sleep while we wait, okay? Then maybe we can put in a movie or something. If we’re lucky, you might feel well enough next week for us to have that big date day you had planned.”

You felt warmth spreading in your chest. He remembered. 

“Okay,” you agreed. He almost seemed surprised by your lack of resistance. 

“Alright, I’ll go wrangle the boys for dinner.” He turned off your light as he started to close the door. 

“Hey, Steve.” 

“Yes, Y/N?” 

“I love you.” 

He peeked his head back in your room, grinning from ear to ear. 

“More than kinda?” 

You laughed. “Yes, you idiot, more than kinda.” 

He started to leave again. “Okay, now get some sleep.” 

“Okay mom,” you jabbed playfully. He froze. 

Steve chuckled and shook his head. “God, if you weren’t sick…” You followed his train of thought and cursed this stupid cold.

As soon as you were better.  

Damn, as soon as you were better. 

-

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination;  @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks; @kendahl0216; @yellowbubblewrap

[midnightstar-90]

2-in-1

Masterlist | Taglist | Request

Dave Lizewski x Reader | Todd Haynes x Sister!Reader

Summary: You’re Todd’s popular little sister, and you like one of his not-so-popular friends. What happens when a couple of words leaves the two on non-speaking terms?

Warnings: Language! (“Is anyone gonna deal with the fact that Cap just said “language”?”) Get it? A superhero joke for a story based on a superhero.

A/N: It’s the Evan Peters version of Todd. I just love Evan, so that's how I imagined it. If you want to picture Augustus, you can. There are no rules here. Make it your own.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Todd and Marty were both standing around Dave as he grabbed his books for his next class. When he finished grabbing his Chemistry textbook, he slammed his locker door shut. They start walking to class, but not without a little chit-chat.

“So, you guys down for Atomic Comics this weekend?” Dave asked his two best friends. Ever since the boys met each other, they’ve always loved comics. They would be able to tell you the exact comic from one line if you asked.

“Yeah, I’m down,” Marty said with a shrug of his shoulders. Dave nodded at his response before both of them turned their head to Todd.

“My sister is grounded, so I have to make sure my sister doesn't invite anyone over this weekend. My parents are going out of town. If I went she would have to go,” Todd contemplated his options. You don’t like superheroes as much as Todd, so you’d probably complain. And if they go to Todd’s house, he’d be spending his time making sure you aren’t doing things you’re not supposed to.

“We-“ Dave couldn’t even finish his sentence before a herd of people crowded around the hallway. “What’s going on over there?” Marty asked in confusion. Todd and Dave looked towards the mob. Every day, since Y/N started school, kids would crowd around her like she was a celebrity. She could get things done at the speed of light. She once threw a party at the last minute, and it ended up in a magazine.

They stood, watching as the mob of people started to disperse. They moved a little closer to see Katie and her friend, but also Y/N. Y/N looked to be handing out a flyer. Todd quickly walked over and took the flyer from his sister’s hand.

“Y/N, you’re grounded. You know you can’t do anything when you're grounded,” Todd yelled at his little sister. Y/N rolled her eyes before they landed on Dave. She stared at Dave with admiration in her eyes.

She continued to look at Dave as she spoke, “Mom and Dad said no one in the house, but they said nothing about going out. Here, take a flyer. If you want to hang with the cool kids, you’ll go.”

She tried to walk off before Todd grabbed her arm, snatching all the flyers from her hands. “Call it off, Y/N. What happens when pictures end up online? If mom and dad see them, we’re both going down. So, how about you go to Atomic Comics with me and the boys, and I won’t tell mom about her favorite dress that mysteriously ripped,” Todd said with a smirk.

Y/N looked at her brother furiously. “Fine, but only if you let me sit by Dave,” she whispered to her brother, so her brother’s best friend doesn’t hear. Todd knew about his sister’s crush on Dave. He also knew that Dave has a crush on Katie, so he allowed it.

He nodded his head, making Y/N smile. She started walking to class, but as she passed Dave she gave him a wink. Dave looked at his best friend’s sister with a nervous chuckle and watched as she walked away.

“I guess I’m going to Atomic Comics with you guys,” Todd told his friends as he side hugged his friends around the shoulders. They all understood that his going would also include Y/N, so they nodded their heads and started walking.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N and Todd walked into Atomic Comics. Y/N was not happy. She could be throwing the party of the century, but she was now hanging out with nerds and her crush. They sat down at the table with Todd’s friends. Todd sat with Marty and Y/N, as promised, sat next to Dave. Y/N was welcomed to a Y/F/F/M (your favorite flavor milkshake) milkshake.

“I ordered you guys a milkshake. Uh, I didn’t know what flavor you like, Y/N, so I got you Y/F/F/M,” Dave said nervously. Y/N blushed, turning her head, so the others wouldn’t see her. He knew my favorite milkshake flavor. Eeeep!

Y/N took the gesture as a sign that Dave liked her. She silently put her hand on Dave’s thigh. Dave’s body tensed up at the feeling of the girl's hand on his thigh. No one had ever touched him there before. He looked at the girl to see her on her phone playing candy crush. He slowly moved her hand off of his leg, only for it to once again place itself back on his leg, only higher. This went on for a couple of minutes before Dave had enough.

“Y/N, can I talk to you real quick?” he said through his teeth. He wasn’t upset. No, he was uncomfortable. They got up and walked towards the comic section.

“What was that?” Dave asked the girl he considered his sister.

“What? My hand on your thigh?” He nodded at her question. “I thought you liked me. Wait, do you not like me?” Dave didn’t speak for a couple of seconds. Y/N’s eyes started to tear up, knowing she just embarrassed herself.

Dave didn’t know how to handle the situation. How do you tell your friend’s kid sister that you don’t like her the same way she does? The next thing Dave said really set Y/N off. “Everyone knows I like Katie,” Dave said nervously.

Y/N was furious. “Are you for real? That Bitch?! You know she thinks you’re gay? That’s why you guys have been hanging out together so much. Not because she likes you, but because she thinks your gay! I didn’t tell her that you lied, but now...” Y/N yelled, not finishing her sentence out of anger. She grabbed the attention of her brother and Marty.

Dave must have forgotten who he was talking to because he just kept saying the wrong stuff. “I know. Please don’t tell her. I’m trying to find a way to tell her that I’m not,” Dave begged.

“You’re a loser and a dick. You probably have a loser dick also,” Y/N said. She didn’t mean it, but she was angry. She walked over to the table and grabbed her milkshake. She walked back over to Dave. She looked him in the eye as she poured her milkshake all over his head. Some of it slid off his head and down his face and body. With that, she ran out of the Comic shop in tears.

A cold and sticky Dave walked back over to his friends after watching Y/N run out. “You really hurt her feelings. You know, she told me while we were having a spa day that she rejected all the boys that asked her at school because she would rather be with either you or Kickass. You were the more predictable choice, but I also knew you didn’t like her like that. This is my fault. I should have been the big brother and told her the truth,” Todd looked down.

“Wait, you have spa days with your sister?” Marty laughed.

“That’s all you got from that? You know what? My sister is crying her eyes out on the streets, which makes her vulnerable to bad guys, so I’m gonna catch up with her,” he said, getting up and leaving the comic shop. Dave felt sorry, but there is only one thing he can do.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Later that day, Todd tried to cheer Y/N up with a spa day. It helped a little but she was still heartbroken. He sat next to her on her bed and rubbed her back.

“Hey, you know that not everyone is going to like you back. You're gonna have crushes who reject you, just like today. But I want you to know that Dave does love you, just not the way you want him to,” Todd told his sister before leaving the room.

Y/N cried a little more before a knock was heard at her window. She walked over and moved her curtain to see Kickass at her window. She quickly opened it.

“Kickass? What are you doing here?” Y/N asked, confused.

“Well, your friend Dave messaged me saying that you needed some cheering up. He wanted me to tell you that he’s sorry. He didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” Dave told Y/N.

“If Dave’s so sorry, why can’t he tell me himself. He totally hurt my feelings, and no offense, Kickass, but this meeting means nothing to me without Dave,” Y/N told the masked superhero.

Dave opened his mouth to say something but quickly closed it. He thought about what he was gonna do next for at least two minutes. He walked towards the girl sitting on her bed.

“I think this will cheer you up,” Dave said, checking to make sure no one could see or hear anything. He reached for his mask, and slowly started to lift it up. Y/N looked up at the superhero, and she saw her brother’s best friend.

Her eyes widened in shock. “Dave, you’re Kick-“ Y/N got out before her mouth was covered. Dave had covered her mouth with his gloved hands to keep her from yelling his secret out to the world.

“I would really like it if your brother and the rest of the world didn’t know about this. But, I really am sorry. You mean a lot to me, and seeing you sad really hurt me. You're like a little sister to me. I’m sorry I can’t be what you want me to be, but I really do love you,” Dave told Y/N confidently.

Y/N nodded her head, still releasing the tears from her eyes. Dave took off his glove and started to wipe her tears away. When Dave finished, he pulled Y/N into a side hug and laid a kiss on top of her head.

They stayed like that for about a minute before Y/N spoke, “Dave, I know you don’t wanna be with me, but would you like to stay and hang out?”

Y/N looked at the boy with hopeful eyes. The ones that make you feel bad if you say no. The ones a lost dog gives you when you find it shaking, cold, and wet from the rain. Dave tried not to look, but it was impossible not to give in. He agreed to Y/N’s proposal. The girl's face lit up like Christmas.

She grabbed her headphones and started to make her way towards her brother’s room. One time, she went to borrow something from Todd but was met with the sight of her brother jerking off to porn.

Y/N opened the door to Todd’s room, to see Todd jamming out to music on his laptop. Y/N snuck in, quietly. She made sure not to bring attention to herself as she grabbed clothes from his drawer. She successfully completed her mission and made her way back to her room.

Meanwhile, in Y/N’s room, Dave walked around looking at Y/N’s things. He looked towards her desk to see a photo. He walked towards it to see a photo from 4 years ago held in a grey frame. It was a photo of Y/N, Todd, and Dave at Y/N’s 10th birthday party. Y/N had cake all over her face.

Dave remembered that day. Y/N and Todd’s dad bought two cakes. He was always one to pull pranks. They put the candles on the decoy cake, and they sang ‘Happy Birthday’. When the time was right, Todd and Dave snuck behind Y/N, picked up the cake, and pushed it into her face. Everyone laughed, even Y/N.

Y/N quietly walked back into the room with her brother’s clothes. She saw Dave looking at her 10th birthday picture. He seemed to be lost in thought, so when she cleared her throat to let him know she was there, he jumped like a cat next to a horn.

He stuttered trying to explain what was going on, but Y/N just threw the clothes at him and left the room. She sat outside the door as he got dressed. She heard a couple of clattering sounds but knew it was Dave being clumsy.

When he opened the door, she almost fell back. She picked herself off the floor and made her way into her room. She picked up her laptop, and relaxed on the bed, watching random movies on Netflix. And that’s how they fell asleep.

Around 4 am Dave woke up to see a snoring Y/N laying on his chest. Careful not to wake her up, he lifted her up and moved from his spot. He made sure he had all of the items he came in with and left, but not without a quick glance at Y/N. He smiled at the girl, and quietly closed her window.

I don't deserve her. She deserves better.

[glenncoco4]

Dad Mode

A/N: Can’t remember if they ever said how old he was but we’re gonna go with 9.

••••

He feels the panic rise with each passing second. Pacing back and forth across the living room, nervously running his fingers through his hair as he tries to come up with a plan to stop the inevitable from happening.

“Babe, relax.”

He stops in his tracks, turning to his wife wide-eyed, flabbergasted at the words that just came off her lips. “Relax? You want me to relax?”

“It’s just a date.”

“Oh, no, it’s not just a date. It’s our daughter’s first date.”

“Yeah, and it’s not gonna be her last.”

“Are you trying to make me have a stroke?”

The brunette huffs a laugh, shaking her head. They’ve known about this date for a week now and somehow her partner’s gone into overprotective dad mode more and more each day. All she can do now is what she does best…calm him down. “Babe, she’s gonna be fine.”

“It’s not her I’m worried about. I know how teenage boys think. I was one of them.”

“Was?”

“Very funny. Why are you not freaked out by this, I mean for all we know the kid is a super douche.”

A  small smile curls at her lips as she steps up to her husband, rubbing her hands across his shoulders and down his arms before taking hold of his hands. “And that’ll be for her to figure out but we can’t stop her from going out with him. You know the more we try to dictate what she does the more she’ll pull away.”

He feels the tension somewhat release from his body at her touch and then completely when his eyes meet hers. His solstice. “I know. You’re right.”

Before anything else can be said, there’s a knock at the door and his head immediately falls to her shoulder. “Do you want me to get it?”

Still resting on her shoulder, he shakes his head. “No, I got this.”

Lifting his head, he takes a calming breath before receiving a quick kiss from his girl and taking a few steps to the door. There’s a knock once more making him turn back to his wife. “He has no patience, I don’t like him even more now.” She takes a deep, calming breath, signaling him to do the same. He does as told before turning back to the door and pulling it open. His eyes go wide in shock once he sees the person on the other side. “Byron?”

“Marty? You live here?”

This is not the 9-year-old he was a big brother to 8 years ago. The kid standing in front of him is his height, chiseled jawline…that frat daddy look. “Yeah, what are you doing here?”

“I’m here to pick up Rosa or at least I thought I was.” His brow furrows in confusion, taking a quick look at the number on the house to make sure he had the right house.

Seeing her husband staring blankly at the person on the other side of the door, Kensi comes up behind him and suddenly realizes why he’s frozen in place. “Byron, how are you?”

“Kensi, hey, I’m doing good. How are you?”

“Other than trying to calm down my husband, pretty good. What are you doing here?”

“I came to pick up-“ The teen stops mid-sentence when Rosa walks into view. “Hi.”

Kensi notices the boy’s eyes light up and that’s when the pieces finally come together. “Come in.”

“Oh, actually, we need to get going. I saw that there’s a large pile-up on the highway and we’re gonna take the longer route to the Observatory so we can avoid any possible accidents.”

A smile spreads to the special agent turned mom’s face. Their girl’s in good hands. “Hear that babe, he’s taking extra precautions.”

“Yeah, he better be.” The shaggy blonde sends the teen boy a fake smile, but it goes unnoticed as his attention is still on their oldest.

Shaking her head, Kensi wraps her arm around Rosa’s shoulders, giving her a quick squeeze. “You better go before he has a stroke.”

The teen meets her adoptive mother’s eyes and smiles. “Thank you.”

Stepping out the door Rosa and Byron share another smile before turning towards the car.

“Bye. Have a good time.” Kensi calls out, curling her arms around her husband’s, taking in this big moment of parenthood but also stopping him from chasing after the kids.

The pair take a few steps before Byron turns around, sporting a charming smile. “We will. I promise to have her home by 10:30 at the latest.”

“Better make it 7:30.” Deeks smiles, nodding his head in all seriousness.

“He’s kidding. Ten thirty's fine. Be careful.”

Before her partner can embarrass their daughter anymore, Kensi shuts the front door before stepping over to the window, watching as Rosa and Byron reach the car and him opening the door for her. ‘Babe, you need to chill.”

As Kensi watches the pair pull off and Deeks stays near the door, brooding, Pilar steps out of the hallway to join her parents with a grin on her face. “Are you still freaking out?”

“I’m not freaking out.” He meets the young girl’s eyes, pouting.

“He’s totally freaking out.”

“Well, then I guess this is a bad time to tell you that I have a date tomorrow with the high school basketball star.”

The blonde’s eyes go wide, feeling his throat dry up at their baby girl’s words. This is how he dies. “What?”

The high-pitched yelp that leaves Deek’s throat and terror in his eyes forces Pilar to turn to Kensi, both unable to hold back their laughter. “You were right…that was fun.”

Shaking his head, he lets out a sigh of relief as he watches his wife and daughter retreat to the kitchen, laughing at his misery. Honestly, he doesn’t care as long as their little girl stays little for just a while longer.

“Come on, dad. Let's nurse your wounds with some ice cream.”

And just like that, everything becomes even more real. Dad.

[greenygreenland]

Hope To Cling To: Zane x Reader

-requested by someone on Wattpad -I was struggling for a while but finally got this done -sorry, unedited because I’m actually really tired lol

Summary: Zane is dead after the fight with the Overlord. You search for him without help.

What was this feeling? Deep inside, you knew something was wrong, and it drew a pit further and further into your very soul. It had been days since you've seen Zane. Maybe even months. You weren't sure after all that happened after the Overlord's final defeat.

A part of you still clung to the hope that Zane was alive, wherever in Ninjago he was. Yoku never did see him die, and all that was left of him was a plate from his face.

"(Y/n)?"

You swallowed the lump in your throat and pushed back the odd feeling in your stomach. "Hi Cole." You didn't mean to soumd so offhanded, but with all rhe thoughts swirling in your mind, how couldn't you? "I'm a bit busy right now."

He leaned on the threshold and crossed his arms sullenly. "If it's Zane you're after, then I can't let you leave." You stuffed a gi into your bag and zipped it tight. "I'm not after Zane." you quietly grumbled. Cole raised a brow sceptically.

He knew what you wanted. After months of searching, you still hadn't given up on him. It was only a matter of time before finding him became your obsession, and that was simply something he couldn't allow. "You can't get past me." he stated. "Even Sensei said you should give it a rest. You have to learn to--"

"Let go?" You shouldered the bag and turned to the window. The low creaking of the Bounty offered in comfort to your running thoughts. You found it fueling your desire to leave, as if in its wooden splinters it knew you were on to something all along.

"I can't let go when there's a chance Zane's alive. If it were me, he wouldn't have given up on me."

Cole pushed off the threshold with a furious frown. "But you saw what happened! There was ice everywhere after the final battle! He may have been the Master of Ice, but even that--how can anyone survive that?"

"He's still the Master of Ice." you said through gritted teeth. "I know he's out there." Cole made his way into the room. His brows were knitted together tightly, and by the way his shoulders tensed, he was doing his best not to burst. "Where? If you know then why don't you tell us?"

"Because I have to trust my instincts! I don't know where exactly he is, but he's alive. I know it!"

"You can't trust a gut feeling like that."

"It's not your decision Cole," you retorted, turning to face him. "You may be my brother, but you won't boss me around like dad did." That hit a nerve and you knew it. The absolute look of betrayal in his darkened eyes made you fall short. His past at Marty Oppenheinmer was not something anyone brought up. It didn't matter how many times his relationship with dad mended--there was still a hole that couldn't be filled in his rock-solid heart.

You ripped open the window and met Cole's eyes one last time. "If I don't come back in five months, consider me dead." He let out a scream, made a run for it, but it was too late. You jumped out of The Bounty.

Cole watched as you flew through the air. A moment later, you opened your parachute and made a descent towards the ground. That would be the last time he saw you for a long, long time.

------

This was the last time you ever rented a cheap hotel for an overnight stay. You shouldered your backpack and pulled up your hood. The blankets, curled up into the shape of a body bag, was a nice final touch you were sure Zane would never approve of.

It served the hotel right. Your room was absolute rubbish anyway.

You made your way downstairs and nodded towards the receptionist. She took the key from you. "Thank you for booking your stay." You disappeared out of the hotel. The darkness of night made your veins pump with a newfound emotion you hadn't felt in forever: serenity.

"Zane would like this." you whisper to yourself. The trek was going to be long, but with the guidance of moonlight and stars, you didn't mind. The first few miles were fine. Then there was another three and your tired legs began to ache. This was a cycle you had endured for the past two months. Hotel hopping, living off scraps, and then making your way through back country during the dead of night.

Attention was something you'd rather not have in these trying times.

That was when the faint lights of a dojo caught your eye. You followed the light in a blind daze. The weariness of travel wasn't doing you any good, and frankly, seeking refugee wasn't a bad idea. "Maybe rest would be a good idea."

You hurried along through the grass, then up the front steps. "Hello?" You tapped on the front door. "Is anyone here?" Of course someone was here. The lights were on, the grass was groomed well, the large wheel churning through the waterfall still ran. This was a well-maintained place, there was no way anyone would just leave it.

A muffled voice came from the other side. "What would anyone want this late at night?" You knitted your brows together as it got closer. Maybe it was just you, but the voice sounded familiar. It was smooth, coiled, yet serene and rather kind despite the grumpy tone. The doors flew open and you wished you had continued your treacherous trek through the dark.

"Garmadon?"

His eyes widened. "Ah," he said rather softly. "If it isn't (Y/n), Master of (element)." There wasn't a drop of malicious intent in his voice, and that set off all your internal alarms like crazy. He isn’t evil anymore, you reminded. Even then, you weren't so keen on asking for his assistance.

He did help you and the ninja with all the nindroids though. And he also helped keep Lloyd safe from the Overlord.

"Is there anything I could help you with this?" he warmly inquired. You pursed your lips together uncertainly. Was it possible to make a run for it? No. Was it possible to disappear into the shadows and forget this ever happened? No. Was it possible to not ask for his help? Also no. A long sigh escaped your lips. "I'm in need of shelter, I've been walking all night."

Garmadon's brows raised. "All night?” He didn’t seem to like that. “And you’re all alone? Where are your friends?" You glanced at the wooden door as if it were the most interesting thing in all of Ninjago. "Oh, they're...away right now." Garmadon nodded in understanding. He looked like he wanted to say more, but with the tired look on your face, he thought better. "Come in," he kindly said. "You may stay as long as you need."

Your eyes widened. "Wait, really?" A chuckle escaped Garmadon's lips and it was everything gentle, fatherly, and kind. He wasn't the same man you once fought. That was a fact you had to drill into your mind.

Garmadon led you inside. "After all I've done to you in the past, this is the least I can do." You tried your best to smile in thanks, but it came out as a grimace. "I...thank you."

The dojo was a nice place. It reminded you of the monastery, but it it were stacked up in a three-story building. The calm of the running water outside helped to soothe your worries, even if it was briefly. You made your way up the stairs after Garmadon. There was a long hall on the second floor that stretched out for as far as you could see.

"The guest room is here." Garmadon slid open a large set of doors. Inside was a plain room with tatami mats, a futon, a nightstand tucked in the corner of the room, and a small lamp. "In the morning, I'll have breakfast ready, so you may join me if you'd like. The bathroom is down the hall to your right and yes, there is a shower there."

You didn't know how to articulate a polite string of words. It all stuck in your throat like glue. Thank you, you're very kind, you didn't need to. How were you supposed to say any of that? Garmadon was still your former enemy, the one who came for your neck and called you stupid insults like 'petty ninja' and 'insolent fool'. Now here he was. Smiling kindly.

The very thought of it was baffling.

"Thank you." you said. Garmadon nodded. "Good night, (Y/n)."

The moment you finished a quick shower, your head hit the pillow. You hadn't realised how tired you were until your eyes fluttered open and closed. "What a day."

You wondered where Zane was, or if he was safe.

"I'd better get some rest."

Had Zane gotten into trouble? It seemed to find him wherever he went.

“No, I can’t think like that,” you mumbled, tossing and turning on your futon. Zane was more than the Master of Ice, your lover, and your best friend. He was strong, intelligent, and sharp-minded. Rarely anything ever got past him. Including you.

When you offered yourself up to defeat the Overlord, Zane refused and did something he’d never done in his life. Push you away. But it was for the sake of Ninjago. What choice did that give him, or you?

Your thoughts buzzed like a restless animal to its prey. It swarmed your head until it hurt, and after sitting around in the darkness for what felt like centuries, you stood. With a shaky hand, you slid open the doors and made your way to the first floor.

The stairs refused to creak under your quiet feet. If it weren’t for the running water outside, you were sure the silence would have driven you crazy already. The open space of the first floor was a welcoming scene. In the moonlight leaking from the open window, your shoulders finally relaxed.

“Is there something wrong?”

You immediately took a battle stance. Your hands raised into fists, your feet formed a box, and you tensed. A voice deep inside screamed that you were in danger, that the final battle hadn’t ended and that nindroids were out for your blood. But then you met Garmadon’s eyes. They were kind, soft, and almost empathetic, as if he understood exactly what went on in your mind.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Your hands limply dropped to your sides. “Thank you for asking Sensei.” His brows raised. If they were any higher, they might’ve been able to fly. “I can’t say I believe that (Y/n).” You shrugged half-heartedly. “I’m just thinking is all.”

Garmadon motioned for you to follow him. “It’s high time I brew some tea. Do you have a preference?” You shook your head and he nodded. “Will chamomile do? It does wonders to calm a weary mind.”

The parlour was as traditional as Garmadon’s dojo could get. You settled around the wooden table, silently thanking the First Spinjitzu Master for chairs. If there was a low-table around, you weren’t sure you’d want to have a long chat. Your legs would go numb long before Garmadon got anything out of you.

“May I ask what you’ve been doing by yourself?” he inquired. You took a long sip of tea. “Nothing much. Just a bit of sight seeing.” That wasn’t a complete lie, but ti wasn’t completely true either. Walking across all of Ninjago for who knows how long allowed you the opportunity to meet various people, as well as see wonderful places you didn’t even know existed.

“Sight seeing?” Garmadon echoed. “I never thought you to be one for that.” You shrugged with a small smile. “Neither did I.” There was a short pause as Garmadon studied you carefully. It was as if he were taking you apart and reconstructing you like a puzzle.

“I don’t mean to be nosy,” he set his cup down, “but are you looking for someone?” You drained your cup. Garmadon graciously refilled it. “Uh, not necessarily.” you mumbled. “I’m just...”

He patiently waited for you to come up with an excuse. You weren’t sure if you could lie straight to his face like this, especially since he was offering so much to you. But then again, he did nearly kill you a couple times in the past, as well as turn Nya evil, steal the Bounty, cause trouble for Lloyd and...

You heaved in a tight breath. What if he could aid you? Garmadon was wise, as well as smart. He knew Ninjago just as well as the back of his hand. “To be completely honest,” you ran your thumb over the rim of the cup, “I’m looking for Zane. Or more like...hoping to find him.”

Garmadon didn’t look impressed. It was no secret that you and Zane had more than a simple friendship going on. He loved you like you were his life line, and you loved him back like he were the sun to your moon. A look of pain passed over Garmadon’s eyes. You wondered if he felt guilty. “How can you be so sure Zane is alive?”

“I have a feeling.” That wasn’t a lie. Every waking moment, there was a tug in your gut. It led you further and further around Ninjago like a guide. The more you traveled, the closer you knew you’d get to finding him. “Zane and I share a special bond. I can’t ignore what I know to be true.”

“And if it’s not?” Garmadon carefully offered. “If what you seek cannot be found, I don’t want to see you lose yourself.” He was speaking from experience. That wasn’t something you could easily brush off, much less blissfully ignore. You heaved in a breath and sipped your tea. “I can’t give up on Zane. If it were me, I know he wouldn’t sleep until he found me.”

“And that’s what you wish to do?”

You met his gaze with solid eyes. “Yes.” There was not an ounce of hesitation in your voice. What was this feeling deep inside? The one that churned again and made the blood roar in your ears? This time, it didn’t draw pit further and further into your gut. Instead, it made your heart flutter, and your chest blossom with hope.

Even if it was blind hope, you’d cling to it. Zane was alive. He had to be, and you’d scour every inch of Ninjago just to find him.

[creativeashproductions]

In the Beginning // Alive!Luke Patterson

Summary: Reggie (Rhodes)’s older sister is the epitome of cool in his, and his friends, eyes with her in a band. Pushed by a hazel eyed brunette with a huge crush on the eldest Rhodes teen the boys decide to start a band. While at first the band is for Luke’s dream of landing you he finds his passion with music.

Warning: Swearing, angst, fluff, dad!Luke

Words: 4.1k

A/N: I couldn’t resist writing another alive!Luke fic with Luke crushing on his band mate’s sister. Ugh, just imagine Luke suggesting a band to impress his crush only to fall in love with music instead.  For my fics it will be Alex Mitchell and Reggie Rhodes until JATP reveals their canon names. 

Masterlist

Los Angeles, 1992

The guitar case was a familiar heaviness as you walked into the home for the first time in months after a practice. You ached from the long travel, and all you wanted was your bed. The yawn came first, then the startled yell at the living room.

Four pairs of eyes met the girl standing in the entryway, surprised at a sleepover with her brother and his full friends. Eyebrows coming together you shook your head wondering why they had come here instead of the typical Patterson home.

“Hey!” Fourteen-year-old Reggie beamed towards his older sister excited she was back from her weekend band practice. Your eyes blinked at his usual upbeat personality before switching to the brown eyes from Bobby, too shy to full meet yours.

Spread around the living room watching a movie was Reggie’s best friends; the socially awkward Alex, the shy Bobby, and the Patterson boy Luke. The young typically spent their time at Luke’s place, so seeing them in your home was strange.

“Reg, what’s up?” You asked crouching to untie your shoes confused at the sharp audible gasp coming from Luke. Standing straight up, you saw Luke awkwardly looking away with bright red cheeks.

“How was practice?” Reggie inquired with the smile he got from your mom and his dark hair from your dad.

Reggie usually wasn’t interested in your band leading you to wonder what the hell was going on with them. Being sixteen you didn’t socialize with Reggie’s friends, thanks to the two year age gap, but you were happy he had good friends. Well, less than two years between you and Luke.

“It was good. Since when are you interested in Crimson Queen?” You questioned moving more into the room with the four young teens, “You haven’t even touched your bass in years.”

One eyebrow raised you individually looked at the boys in the room all with sheets of paper around them. From a distance, you couldn’t tell what was on them, but it couldn’t be homework. They all attended the same high school while you had done correspondence with the band and a tutor.

“Luke’s parents got him a guitar,” Reggie spoke gesturing to the decent brand new acoustic guitar on the floor beside the Patterson. Luke’s hazel eyes widening as you came closer to the group.

Your hand picking up the guitar to look it over finding it was decent for a beginner, but it was definitely not tuned. The sheer sound made you wince.

“So, you guys want to be a band?” You questioned sitting on the floor beside Luke. The boy shifting nervously, you weren’t blind that he got shy around girls, “Do you guys even play instruments?”

“I got the bass, Bobby can play rhythm guitar, Alex plays dru-“

“I wouldn’t call it proper drumming. It’s just something my therapist suggested with my anxiety and frustrations.” Alex raised his hand leading to everyone in the room looking at the tall male, recently had a growth spurt, with the backward black hat.

“And Luke will learn guitar as well.” You added, looking at the quiet, “How well can you play?”

“I don’t even know how to properly tune it,” Luke admitted playing with his fingers adorned with a ring.

Luke had chosen a cutoff shirt in an attempt to gain your attention to his arms he hoped had gotten more muscled. He had a massive crush on you but with the guys your own age he had step up; he started working out. He actually enjoyed it, but he’d enjoy it more if you were checking him out.

“You’ll need a place to practice.” You mumbled glancing out the window at the ocean waves thinking. The house was on the prime real estate edge of the beach all thanks to your well off parents; Dad, a doctor and Mom, an interior designer.

Your fingers tapped on the ripped blue jeans you had chosen that day with the flannel shirt opened over the black AC/DC t-shirt. You started standing up, grabbing Luke’s hand to pull him up as well; the boy’s cheeks grew pinker, and his heart fluttered.

“What?” Luke spluttered, staring at his hand, caught in yours in sheer awe.

“You’ll need a place to practice.” You answered, dropping is head to reach in your pocket for your key chain.

The key chain had a few keys on it: one for home, one for your car, one for the band van for gigs, one for the garage, and lastly one for the house the garage belonged to. The boys piled into the car, apprehensive for where you were taking them. The only sound was the radio playing local greatest hits, your foot slammed on the brake at the house of your bassist.

“Well Marty, this song has blown up on the charts. New band Crimson-“

“Holy shit.” You breathed staring at the radio. Your door opened as you sprinted down to the steps that led to the garage. The footsteps of the boys following.

The garage was open already with your band members lounging around the space filled with instruments and amps. Their heads swivelling as you frantic turned the radio on.

“Come on.” You mumbled, turning the radio station to the right one, “Guys listen!”

“-Crimson Queen is an LA-based band making waves in the LA Nightlife and hit the top ten with their newest song Sorry Now.” The radio host spoke, “If you haven’t heard the song before, this is the band’s new single.”

The song was blasted from the radio leading to the four girls screaming the song out dancing around the room. Euphoria was the only way you could call the feeling rising in the bodies of the girls in the place. The room burst into more screams as your drummer. Faith switched the radio station.

“Today history was made, Crimson Queen is an all-female rock band fronted by Y/N Rhodes. They started as a hobby at fifteen, but a year later at sixteen they’ve made waves.” A hit radio station, the second one so far, was talking about your band. Holy shit.

“Lucy, this band is going places. My daughter is seven years old, and she’s telling me this band is the talk of her school. I can’t tell how much Lucy listens to their demo.”

Your eyes saw Reggie having a meltdown of excitement for older sister and her band, and you were so unbelievably happy you should care the moment. You rushed over to Reggie to pull him into a hug.

“Girls…and boys.” Mrs Taylor spoke furrowing her brows at the young boys in the garage her daughter had begged to use for the band. Shaking her head, the middle-aged woman turned her attention to her daughter.

“Hey, Ma.” Dawn, your bassist, spoke spreading her pink painted lips to her perfectly straight teeth too hyped up on energy, “What’s up?”

“First congratulations on the single. Secondly, we’re gonna need to get a personal line for the band because our phone is blowing up.”

A sharp gasp from Dawn before the three of the four girls rushed to the house of the Taylor’s. You hung back to look at your brother and his band.

“So? What do you think?” You inquired with the group, “This idea of yours has to be one hundred percent what you want. It won’t be easy in LA, it will come with hardships, and Reggie Mom and Dad won’t let you drop out.”

The four boys nodded their heads because the excitement they saw in your big break was something they wanted. To be able to connect with people cemented their decision.

“Feel free to hang around.” You suggested glancing around the garage that started it all, “I’ll be back in a bit.”

The Orpheum, Los Angeles, 1995

The crowd screamed as Crimson Queen, the song that started this road played with the girl crouching to grasp the hand of fans. At the beat of the chorus, you stood up eating up the energy of the last show of the tour. You went jumped on the drum riser rocking on the guitar as Faith did her magic.

Dawn on her bass made her way to rock with your rhythm guitarist Sara sharing grins with you still feeling the euphoria of this success. As the song came to an end, your entire band went to the front of the stage.

“We’d like to thank our fans for the last nine months of our world tour. We started this band in LA in 1991, so we thought it fit to end our tour at The Orpheum.” You spoke to the crowd, feeding off the energy as the concert came to an end.

The road crew would load your instruments up in the van to take home after months of travelling. You were so excited to see Reggie, who would be seventeen now, having celebrated his birthday while you had been in Europe. Too excited were shocked as Reggie backstage.

“Reggie!” You exclaimed tugging the teen into your arms, leaning back to take him in, “Damn you grew!”

Reggie grinned not giving a shit you were coated in sweat from performing your setlist, but your eyes went over his shoulder. Standing close and just as excited was Reggie’s friends. Alex was taller, Bobby looked more confident, and Luke could meet your eyes. Luke also had changed, no longer baby faced.

“Sunset Curve.” You spoke, stepping back to look them over, “I haven’t seen you guys in months, how did you change so much!”

“That’s what happens when you go on tour for almost a year.” Luke teased tugging you into his arms for a tight hug.

It was odd seeing Luke taller and more muscled than when you left for tour, and the confidence was honestly hot. You had seen Luke as anything other than your brother’s friend, who tended to stare a little too long.

“You played the fucking Orpheum!” Alex screamed, holding your shoulders with a wrinkled nose at the damp red thin flannel shirt. The girls wandered up behind you each with a grin at the guys.

“Well if it isn’t Sunset Swerve,” Sara spoke swinging her arm over your shoulder with a teasing smirk plastered on her face. Her blonde hair swept up in a bun high on her head from a recent shower.

“Sunset Curve!” The male quartet snapped at the name before they fell back into a happy demeanour. Luke and you both staring at each other with a pink-hued face.

Faith was quieter in the group leaning closer to your band to whisper in your ear, “Jay scored us some drinks. But MJ got us into a party.” Faith’s textured hair tickling your neck.

Grins split the three girls at the suggestion each excited for the party with fellow musicians and plus ones. Sure, the parties had drugs and alcohol, but they were fun and part of the scene. Half of you wanted to go, but the other wanted to spend time with your brother.

“I’ll think I’ll pass.” You spoke up to the girls motioning to the guys, “I’ll head back with them. Meet you at the house later?”

Your black vans moving backwards as you moved to be closer to be flush against Reggie’s side grinning as he bumped his hip against you. Sara, Faith and Dawn each raising an eyebrow at your response since you often dragged them to parties.

“Orrr…we could each take one of them.” Faith cajoled mocha skin gleaming in the light with her hands, tugging her hair into a thick braid.

“You want me to take my seventeen-year-old brother and his friends-“

“-I’m like two weeks from being eighteen-” Luke cut into the conversation buzzing at the possible date, but not date, with the girl he had been crushing on for years. He was pretty sure he was in love with you at this point; he did date a little, but nothing stuck.

“-To a party in Hollywood.” You finished pinning your gaze on the three girls ahead each with mischievous grins. Your cheeks puffed as you breathed out, thinking of the positives and negatives.

Bobby was bouncing on his heels with Reggie leaving Alex shifting uncomfortably in his place. His partially relaxed when Luke squeezed his forearm through the distressed black jean jacket that bought his outfit together. Luke himself was apprehensive on your decision because either way, he got to spend time with you.

“Come on.” Dawn implored, pulling out the big guns with her ocean blue eyes widening into the puppy gaze that did you in each time. Her curtain of short dyed pink hair framing her heart-shaped face.

“I’m going to pass this time. Do some shots for me! Not tequila though, that was a huge mistake.” Faith’s grin widened at having you carry you out of the house in the early morning after a wicked party.

“Did you ever find your tho-“

“Faith!” You hissed turning a bright red at her revelation that you definitely didn’t want Reggie to know. The atmosphere turned awkward as everyone realized what the sentence would end with.

Okay so maybe you had hooked up with a few people over the last three years but nothing permanent. It was fun, drunk fun, but still fun and nothing had gone wrong. Your eyes avoided looking at Luke for a reason you couldn’t decipher.

“I’ll see you later.” You spoke motioning for the guys to follow you to the dressing room you had settled in early in the day. The corner of your lips quirked at the awe on each of the boys’ faces.

“I’m in the dressing where bands become legends.” Reggie gasped circling the room with wide-eyed interest. Alex was interested in the band posters on the walls from previous performers.

Luke, however, was more interested in your curves covered by your sweaty stage clothing that stuck to your form. His Adam’s apple gulped as you grabbed your shower bag moving towards the connected bathroom.

“I’ll grab a shower, and we can head out.” You supplied, “I’ll just need to stop at Rudy’s office for our portion of the concert.”

The guys mumbled a response finding a place to wait without hushed conversations of when they would get to play. Luke’s eyes found yours at the low call of his name from the bathroom; a crack opened he walked over.

“Do you have a sweater?” You mumbled at the taller teen with widening eyes as he realized that you were naked behind the door.

Luke stumbled over his feet, retrieving the black pullover Crimson Queen merch he had had for months now. He had saved up money to buy the merch to support the band. The door closed as you tugged the sweater in the bathroom momentarily before walking out.

“Thanks Lu. I forget to pack a shirt.” Luke awed as your nose scrunched up adorably to the amusement of his friends, “So, do you wanna hit the beach? Or maybe give me a concert in the garage?”

Luke intertwined his fingers in yours as he tugged you out of the room with your bag in hand. His heart fluttered as you held on to his hand even in the little office of the Orpheum’s management for the thick envelope of money.

“Thanks, Rudy!” You called over your shoulder at the short, stout man going over the financials and upcoming performances.

The smell of Sunset Boulevard brought a smile remembering the first time you performed and the small group that had waited outside. The first night of autographs and recognition.

“So, Reg how’s my car?” You questioned the teen who impishly grinned tugging the key chain from his black jeans. You had given him the keys when you revealed Crimson Queen had a world tour.

“Right there.” Reggie pointed leading the group of five to the car that would take them to the garage. Reggie drove with Alex in the passenger while you were crammed between Bobby and Luke; Luke was delighted in your warmth against his side.

While your band members partied, you got a first-row seating to Sunset Curve’s talent in the garage where you had started out. It was amazing to see how much they had accomplished in the three years since they started.

The sudden knock on the door had you flailing off the couch onto the floor with a sheet of paper stuck to your cheek. Your spine cracked as you sat up glancing at your watch, finding it was after midnight, only an hour of sleep after inspiration for a new song.

The door was knocked on once more and coming close the sound of crying could be heard, and you wondered if it was Luke. He had been over a few days in the night following a fight with his parents and needed to crash; helped you were giving dating a chance after his well-rehearsed speech.

Imagine your shock when it was Reggie sobbing, “Reggie.”

“C-can I stay here?” Reggie whimpered cuddling himself into the leather jacket he received at Christmas from you. You had inside in your arms in moments, “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Are they fighting again?” You murmured to your younger brother content to hold him as he cried. Bringing him to the living room, you held him as he cried humming under your breath the first song you ever let him see.

“Yeah. The music doesn’t work anymore.” Reggie murmured leaning back to wipe his tears off, “Sorry for crashing. I can go stay with-“

“Here. Reginald, you can always stay here.” You soothed the seventeen-year-old boy with sad eyes and a sombre look. His sad eyes shattered your heart, knowing he had suffered the fighting for months alone, “This house is empty Reg. You can move in here.”

His lip quirked up, “Can we play country music?”

“And eat breakfast at night.” You teased him grinning as his lips pulled up into his trademark grin, “The guys can come over whenever they want. I’d actually prefer they know they can stay here, they deserve a safe place to stay.”

You knew that Alex endured living with his parents, who had gone out of their way to avoid him after he came out. Luke couch surfed at your old house, never at Alex’s home; after coming out, Alex didn’t feel comfortable bringing anyone over.

“Good, because they’re outside.” Reggie sheepishly admitted raising his thumbs-up, “Go thinking ahead!”

Snorting the human version of a golden retriever you opened the front door to the house finding two guys in strange positions. Alex was inspecting the light fixture, and Luke was leaning against the wall with his elbow, foot across the other.

“You guys need lessons in the art of pretending you weren’t eavesdropping.” The sigh fell stepping aside for the two to enter the home—each carrying a backpack and small duffle bag for wherever they would have crashed.

The male trio got comfortable in the living room curiously glancing at the mess of papers, sticky notes and pencils. While with good intentions, they didn’t follow boundaries well, even for Alex.

“Whatcha working on?” Luke inquired, leaning closer to a sheet of paper. His pout coming over his face when you quickly tidied up the papers.

“Nothing. I fell asleep on the couch. The label wants new songs.” You groaned rubbing your eyes, “I got inspired last night. Oh! Hey, I took a message for you guys.”

Jogging to your office studio for the band you quickly grabbed the envelope along with the note that you had been given.

“So, Rudy called me, and I had a meeting with him.” You started sitting on the coffee table in front of the trio. The trio leaned forward.

“Rudy?” Luke questioned, pursing his lips together at the male name. While you and Luke were dating it wasn’t official, he was just really nervous with his dream girl liking him back.

“He’s the management for a venue. He asked if our band was available for a concert, but we collectively decided to focus on songs and recording, which you can’t tell anyone about, but he’s in dire need. So, I might have given him something. Specifically a demo of yours and knowing your home situations I gave my information.”

“Okay…so?” Alex questioned, leaning forward. His eyes growing wide as you pushed the envelope in his hand.

Alex quickly opened the cream envelope finding inside a paper along with a mock-up promo poster with Sunset Curve. The squeal was shocking from the teenager as he read the letter and note out loud.

Y/N,

I gave the demo a listen, and we usually wouldn’t do this, but Crimson Queen has been gracious with us. Always mentioning where the band got its start and closing the tour here. To repay the favour, we would formally like to invite Sunset Curve to perform. In the envelope is a mock-up poster as an option for the promo. Get the Sunset Curve’s people to get in touch. I can get the word out to some friends from some labels to come for a listen. Get in touch as soon as possible.

Manager of The Orpheum in Los Angeles,

Rudy West.

 “The Orpheum?” Luke screamed, yanking the paper from Alex to re-read it in complete shock, “We don’t have people!”

“But Crimson does.” You smirked, “On a temporary basis Crimson Queen formally offer our manager’s help.”

In his excitement, Luke lunged to pull you into a kiss freezing the room in shock.

“He got the girl.” Alex breathed elbowing Reggie in the side who’s mouth was open at his best friend kissing Reggie’s older sister. The older sister who was the driving force behind Luke wanting to form a band to impress her, “We need to tell Bobby!”

1995 was the best year for Luke Patterson. He got the girl, his band made it, his parents finally saw his dream was worth it.

The sound of music hypnotized the woman as she wandered down the hall to the open door of the large home. Nothing too over the top like Bobby’s mansion, but it was a nice size in a gated area. Your neighbours being Reggie on one side and Alex on the other side with his partner Willie; Willie had skated into Alex and into a love story pretty much.

Resting against the door edge of the designated home studio you saw Luke had moved a rocking recliner in. Softly playing in the room was a soft acoustic song recorded months previous as a surprise for you.

“When are the lessons starting?” You questioned bringing Luke’s attention to your soft smile and the love in your eyes. Luke’s grin widened glancing down at the miniature version of his love-filled eyes.

“Given her legendary parents, I think at two.” Luke chuckled shuffling the baby to the crook of his arm shifting, so you could curl into his side as well. Both eyes gazing at the little baby you had welcomed what felt like yesterday.

Stevie could fall asleep only to the lullaby her father had created during the pregnancy, and he had written. Stevie had Luke’s eyes, and so far her blonde hair had yet to darken so the question of if she’d take after your hair or his hair was unanswered.

“Hey sweetheart.” You whispered to your daughter falling asleep to the sound of her father’s voice in the room. An adorable yawn pulled from her little body as she nestled into Luke’s arms.

“She’s so gorgeous.” Luke breathed tears welling up as he could understand the reasoning behind his parents’ opinions in his teens. He truly felt terrible at hurting his mom now that he felt the love for his child.

“We did good Patterson.” You murmured back to the man who had held your heart since you were nineteen and back from tour. Your finger tracing Steve’s soft cheek, “I think she has your mom’s mouth.”

Luke’s lips lingered on your cheek heart full of love for his family with you and his little girl. He had known since his eleventh birthday he would marry you even if you were a year older. A year that made the difference when he was months older than his friends, so the year felt like two for you. At eighteen when was tentatively dating you, he knew he would marry you. He never anticipated the sheer amount of adoration for the little girl he would have at twenty-one.

God, he loved his life. He made up with his parents, his best friends, had the girl of his dreams, the most beautiful daughter and it all thanks to music. Can you see why he lives and breathes music?

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