#crazy because i don't remember getting christmas gifts from them growing up

[unoisveimved-un-proffesional]

Scheduling fail today. Was going to meet up with my sibling on one of their days off from work, Tuesday through Thursday, things kept coming up for me Tuesday and Wednesday, and I slept in until noon today and forgot to message them last night that I should be totally free today, and forgot I forgot to message them so I only realized at 3 PM upon checking my messages why they haven't responded, because I never messaged them. I feel like a jerk now for wasting their time.

[tardytothesimspardy]

Baby Excitement

The opposite of baby panic

The days following Bob's birth were a flurry of excitement and upset sleep schedules, and Robert had a two of his friends come over during it, and literally all he would talk about was anything to do about his new son.

Thankfully, they were pretty understanding. After all, it's an entirely new Sim that didn't exist a few days ago. That's pretty crazy.

A whole new experience began once Bob aged up into an infant. Now, he can be held, he can crawl, he can go behind the confines of the bassinet in Mags and Robert's bedroom. How thrilling!

Now, they can began to learn what kind of Sim Bob will grow up to be. There was a bit of a rocky start on Robert's end, as he's still learning how to interact with a Sim that can't talk.

Mags had a modicum more success, by pairing a chat with some food (and hoping Bob doesn't spit it all up afterward).

Between caring for Bob, and their overlapping work schedules, Mags and Robert were having a hard time finding time for themselves. Just a night for themselves, that wouldn't be interrupted by Bob being his infant self. A few weeks after Bob's birthday, once the two of them had established a routine for all of them, Mags had managed to find a babysitter, and they were able to go on a dinner date to a new fancy restaurant. Mags was particularly excited for it, since they claimed to specialize in "experimental foods".

On the other side of Brindleton Bay, the Simovitch family was also rearranging themselves around their new baby, Betty. The atmosphere was very cozy, warm, and romantic (according to Fatima, anyway).

Meanwhile, Betty was left entirely by herself in her room, but luckily she didn't do what most infants do (fall backwards and crack their heads on the floor). Fatima is steadily warming up to being a mother, including the less savory aspects (post-bottle burps).

Vadim and Fatima tend to Betty interchangeably, mostly depending on who went to sleep first. This night, Vadim was the one who had to get up and feed Betty (in the dark of the living room for some reason, even though there was a perfectly good chair in Betty's room).

I realized that I have my Sims basically celebrate Christmas with every Winterfest, and since I was repeating Winterfest due to my finaggling, I decided to not do the same exact thing that I have done previously, and have Winterfest be Hannukah for the Simovitch family.

Vadim ended up being pranked by his own prank gift, which he didn't find that funny, but Fatima got a nice gift (I don't remember what it was though). Betty didn't get any gifts, I guess because she is an infant, but like, infants get all kinds of gifts in real life. Idk, next year she'll be able to get something good.

The year did not end well for the Simovitchs, as there was (once again) a fire. Vadim started it by making some breakfast while Fatima and Betty were still sleeping, and his kindness was rewarded with flames.

Fortunately, Vadim was able to extinguish it with his freeze ray, and he also conquered his fear of fire, but then Fatima got a fear of fire from this fire, so the cycle continues. Betty had the most fun of all, by being outside for the first time.

[casualreginaspectator]

I've always loved making things for people. Especially art, little drawings, paintings, crafts, but I like writing for people too, and cooking food, feeding people gives me joy. And I like buying things for people too, not a lot, but little things I think will make them happy. I think it's a part of my love language I haven't fully recognized until recently, because the love language test that's out there is all about receiving love, and not giving it, and so the "gift" type always falls as my lowest category. I get anxious when people spend money on me, for internalized reasons of course, so receiving gifts has never meant as much to me as someone spending time on me. But I love doing it for other people. And I love it more when I make things.

For years, really most of my childhood, I would draw individualized pictures for all my family members, and every extended family unit, for every holiday of the year. I'd sit down with a pack of colored pencils or markers and draw something both related to that family member and the holiday: my aunt's cat in a Santa hat at Christmas time, two trouts being shot down by cupid for my grandpa. They got more complex as I got older, and then slowly dwindled away over time.

And I've always drawn people, too. I remember the first time I did portraiture was maybe in the third grade, for this boy I fancied myself madly in love with. He was thin, excruciatingly pale, had crazy black hair that got all over the place, was allergic to everything under the sun, and had a thing for mythology. I went to this weird little hippie charter school growing up, where we raised bees and silk worms and had our own garden and put on end-of-the-year musicals about climate change and individuality. I was in a marimba band. Our class was super small, never more than 20 odd students any given year, and we were all close, so we'd play well thought out make-believe games. I always forced myself into the role of the princess warrior, or something of those sorts, and the dark haired boy would be my prince, my knight in shining armor. I was stronger in magic than him, of course and only needed saving in the most dire of circumstances, which occured frequently, for the sake of the drama. I drew him in the theater balcony during one of those plays watching the older grades do their bit, fitted in armor and a magic cape, finishing moments before banging my knee against a railing and bleeding all over my costume. He kept the drawing though.

I did more small sketches over the years, but it wasn't until I got to high school that I realized I had a nack for realism. Before this, many of my middle school friends drew in cartoon or manga styles; I tried and failed, and my art was never very good then. But my freshman year I had an art teacher who both had enormous faith in me and pushed me more than I liked, at times. We had to do a charcoal piece, and most students picked inanimate objects: roses, sneakers, one girl did a vacuum cleaner. But my teacher made me do a face, and I had my old friends from my old school send me dynamic photos that I put greyscale over, and I chose one of this guy I knew semi-well who had his face all scrunched in a disgruntled looking smirk. The drawing is still one of my favorites to this day. I've got it hanging in my room, portrait of someone I don't know anymore, sneering from his place on the wall.

And so began a series. I couldn't name all these projects, but people would ask me to sketch them, and I would, and it would be spot on, and I'd move right along. I did a detailed colored pencil portrait of a girl in my choir I was secret Santa for, some realistic character drawings from the Lord of the Flies for my sophomore Honors English, and a watercolor portrait of US Senator Henry Clay in my APUSH to run off an old inside joke. I've drawn countless sketches of old boyfriends, which have been handed out on scraps of paper and folded up into wallets, where the creases have thinned and frayed and faded. I've hand made cards, written poems, hell I painted a guitar for a boy once, a boy who never even knew me well enough to buy me earrings that I would actually like.

I show my love in all these big, strange ways, making blankets, dedicating whole journals, making scavenger hunts and stepping entirely out of my way to plan trips, sneak around, sacrifice my time. And it's strange of me to think how little of that I've gotten back.

Most of that is just because of the way others express their love. I don't think it's grand for most people. And it's not for me either, not really, because I do these things because I want to so badly, and they make me so happy. I regret none of it. I spend time because I care, because it brings me joy. But sometimes it'd be nice to get a drawing, a note, a song, a story, a piece of something made just for me.

I have gotten things like that, a few times, but always in the worst ways.

I had a friend who drew me, once, only to get banned from speaking to me a few months later. Her mother thought we were in love. She may have been right. But I couldn't keep that drawing. I regret that.

I had a boy who's feelings for me became unrequited at the expense of another. He made me a bracelet, beeded with brown mostly, but with two chunks of an aqua-blue that looked like his eyes. He left them on my coat one night after I told him I didn't think things would work out between us, but that I was terribly sorry. I really was. I still have that bracelet, and I wear it sometimes. Eventually we became friends again, and I would wear it more.

The boy who hurt me the most did the most for me. He was an artist, and a brilliant one at that. It would be easier, I think, if the people we abhore the most had nothing going for them, if they were just sick and sorry on every facet. One of the last weeks we were together we went to a park, and fought, and then somehow made up, and made crowns for each other's heads out of reeds we found in a field nearby. We took pictures of each other in these crowns, all dramatic like. The polin got in my eyes. And he drew one of those photos of me later, in his own style, and in the drawing you couldn't tell how red my eyes were, maybe from anger, maybe from the reeds. He was making more drawings, too, to be given to me at a later date, but things ended before that. I'm glad I don't have them, because I know I'd hate to look at them now.

I've had a few people sing for me, send me videos or recordings of them singing, or playing an instrument. God, that makes my heart melt, that someone would take time, preparing a song and then sitting in front of a camera at my expense. That, I cannot do. And I know that means a lot.

And I know a lot of people really like spending money on others, on me, paying for dinner and tickets and gas and clothes and things, just things. It makes me anxious but I get it, and if I know I must I let it happen.

But please, dear God, if someone, anyone, sat down to paint me, draw me, write about me in a story or poem or song, made me something I loved, made me food, made me a game, anything, I think that would be enough for a long time.

I read a different Tumblr post recently, about a man who made some invention for his wife, because of his wife. And I can't remember what it was he made, but I remember what he said about it -- the man "loved her to the point of invention." I don't need invention, exactly, nor do I necessarily want that. But I want someone to love me to the point of creation. I think that would be enough.

In the meantime though, I'll keep making. I'll keep painting my paintings, writing my poems, cooking meals, doing project after project, devoting my time and effort to the people I love. I hope they know what it means when they get a final product. I hope they know that every inch of my soul went into it, that it means everything I feel and more.

That quiz I took recently, it said I create out of love. Nothing could be more true.

[hinshinotsuki]

🖤 Switched 🖤

***

***

(F/N) looked at all the people around her as they, too, looked at her.

Who could blame her or them for that matter? For, after all, she stood out like sore thumb.

It all began the next day when she woke up. Her eyes, upon opening against her own will, saw the same rustic ceiling, just like yesterday. She rubbed her tired eyes, wishing that this whole ordeal was just a long nightmare. But, upon opening them once more, unfortunately, she was as wide awake as anyone can be.

She sighed and finally got out of bed, finding her clothes neatly folded on the table beside her bed. Even her signature high heels were on the foot of the bed. She dressed up, carefully folding her hospital gown and putting it on the table. She wore her shoes, thinking it was a miracle that the water did not damage the very expensive pair in the least, and the same could be said with her dress. She walked idly around, looking for a mirror, and when she did find one, she stared at it and noticed the large bags beneath her eyes. Upon failing to find a hair brush, she began combing through her tangled tresses with her fingers, carefully untying the knots.

It was then that she heard a knock on the door. And before she could even let the visitor enter the room, it already opened the door and let itself in.

"Oh, hi there." It was the woman named Hange. Apparently, she doesn't know anything about privacy or space. "Had a good rest?"

"No." (F/N) answered, and it was the truth.

But, to this, Hange just laughed. "The others are waiting. Let's go."

And so, (F/N) let herself be accompanied by the woman towards the cafeteria, where a lot of people were already having breakfast. And the moment she stepped into the noisy and crowded room, numerous eyes noticed her. Some were about to greet her, but stopped upon seeing her. They remained still as she passed them. Some even gave her strange stares.

Oh, my God. She thought as she followed Hange.

But, it seems that Hange was unaffected by all of it as she arrived on the counter to get themselves a meal.

"Good morning, Sectio - " One of the Cadets in charge of the meals was about to greet her when she saw her companion. It was a tall teen with a long face and small eyes.

"Good morning, uhh,..."

"Jean Kirschtein, Section Commander." The teen provided his name.

"Oh, yeah. Good morning, Kirschtein! Two, please." Said  Hange, then flashed him a quick smirk. "One for me and another for Squad Leader (L/N)'s twin sister - "

"Twin?!" (F/N) uttered, startled at what she just heard. This made everyone, including Kirschtein, to look at her with suspicion.

However, Hange just laughed the whole situation off. "Oh, you, you're so funny,..." she said and took (F/N)'s right arm, pulling her towards the farthest table she could find, away from the recruits' prying eyes.

"What was that for?" (F/N) asked as she was forced to sit on a chair.

Hange just smiled at her, having a seat and never taking her eyes off her. "I messed up, big time,..." she whispered more to herself.

"What do you mean by that?" (F/N) asked, growing more and more impatient by the second. 

At this exact moment, all eyes were drawn to their vicinity. And at that exact moment, (F/N) realized that she stood out like a sore thumb among the people inside the cafeteria, who all wore similar 17th century something peasant clothing.

She cleared her throat, getting really nervous all of a sudden, and tried to divert her attention from the curiosity of the people, who started whispering at each other.

She moved closer towards Hange and said in a whisper, "Where exactly am I? If you don't mind me asking,..."

"Oh, not at all." Hange whispered back. "Well, seeing that you really have no idea what this place is or - "

"No!" (F/N) savagely interrupted Hange in a whisper.

"Okay! Okay! You are in Trost District, south of Wall Maria."

"Okay. And since when did Trost City become the center of Paradis' Renaissance period fair?"

"What did you say?"

"Renaissance!"

"No! Before that."

"Paradis? Aww, come on! Don't tell me you forgot the name of the country."

"Paradise, what?!"

"Excuse me, ladies?" Both (F/N) and Hange slightly jumped from their seats, startled at the interruption by the same  Cadet earlier. Jean was slightly surprised upon seeing this and just shrugged it off, handing them two trays of food containing their forgotten breakfast. "Here. You forgot to pick this up."

"Thank you, Jean." (F/N) said, gaining a strange look from the Cadet, who realized that he was just called by the bossiest Squad Leader in the Scouting Legion by his first name. His eyes widened for a fraction a second, then returned to normal. He smirked, nodded, and walked back towards the counter.

"Really?" Hange muttered after the teen left.

"What?" (F/N) asked, who eyed the really plain breakfast with a scrutinizing eye.

"Thank you? As in, thank you?"

"Why? What's wrong with that?"

Hange took her spoon and pointed it at her strange companion. "(F/N) never once expressed gratitude, let alone say those exact words you just said." the bespectacled woman said, then swallowed a spoonful of pale soup. "It's just like," she took the hard - looking bread then took a bite. "You're a completely different person."

(F/N) raised an eyebrow and returned her gaze at the breakfast. She took the bread first and almost gasped - it really was hard. "Maybe because I' am. And maybe you are, too. I mean, look at you," she bit the bread, not bothering to tear it into pieces, and instantly regretted her decision. "You have long hair, and your chest is big, and you look flat, I mean, down there,..."

"So, does that mean that Hans is a male?" Hange asked curiously.

"Of course, he is! Unless, he is hiding something from me, then,..."

"REMARKABLE!" Hange burst out, gaining the attention of all the people in the room. (F/N)'s heartbeat increased upon the reaction of her companion and tried to calm her down. The people, on the other hand, just went back to their meals upon realizing that it was just Hange and her sudden, crazy outbursts.

"I'm surprised you remembered Hans,..." (F/N) told her after Hange calmed down.

But, then, (F/N) immediately wished for the excited Hange to return, for the woman began smiling at her like a mad scientist. A really, really mad one, at that.

"Of course, I did!" Hange answered her. "And all the other things that happened last night. You see," she said, then gulped down another spoonful of cold soup. "Last night's events had me thinking."

"About what?"

"You! I was thinking that you really are not what you used to be. But, then, after analyzing all the words and stories that you said, the clothes that you wear, and that long, black, shiny, mirror - like thing that you have - "

"Wait a second here, YOU HAVE MY CELLPHONE?!"

"Sshh!" It was Hange's turn to calm (F/N) down. "Alright, I took it! But it was only for experimental purposes, I didn't mean to use it,..."

"I swear, Hange, or whatever you are called, if you break it, or scratch it in the least - "

"I did not! Okay?" Hange said, successfully calming (F/N) down, and returned to their topic. "So, as I was saying," she grabbed the bread and took a huge bite out of it. "Upon analysis of all the things that you have, I assume that - "

(F/N) slowly looked at her, waiting curiously at her huge reveal. "Go on."

Hange gulped down and closed her eyes. And when she opened them once more, they were filled with excitement like that of a child's, who was about to open a Christmas gift from a really wealthy person. "(F/N), I' am a hundred percent positive that you came from another world."

(F/N) absorbed what Hange just said and just chuckled. "I was beginning to think that, yes. Unless, you are pulling some elaborate prank on me,..."

"We're not! Anyway, the reason I said that is due to the way you are dressed. I've seen Wall Sina fashion, and I'm sure that yours is a whole different story. And not to mention those shoes with the pointy things,..."

"Heels. They're high heels."

"Oh, so that's what it's called, huh? High heels?" Hange said, then went closer to (F/N). Too close, in fact. "And that black, smooth thing is a cellphone? What does a cellphone do, aside from being used as a mirror?"

"First of all, it's not a mirror. Well, sometimes, people do use it like that. You can do lots of things with a cellphone nowadays, compared to old models where you can only send messages and call loved ones,..."

(F/N) stopped for a moment upon realizing that Hange was hanging on to her every word like a child who was eagerly waiting for the next scenario of a fairy tail. Not to mention the drool that was forming on the edge of her lips.

"Ahh, so, that's a cellphone,..."

"Hange, are you okay?"  (F/N) asked, fully aware that she, herself, coming from another world would mean something really huge not only for Hange, but for her, as well.

"Yes. And what else does a cellphone do?"

"Hange, I wish I could show you, but I don't have it right now,..."

"Then, let's go!" Hange almost shrieked, stood up from her chair, grabbed (F/N) by her skinny arm once more, and dragged her someplace else,...

***

🖤🖤🖤

***

[fanwarriorfictions]

One-

A Stranger Things 2 Fanfic

Chapter One: MADMAX

A year had passed. Just a year since Will had gone missing, since the crazy adventure that had followed, since they had fought for their lives, since El had came and gone from their lives. Phina found that there was not one night she did not think of what had happened, not one night were she didn't wake in a cold sweat from the nightmares that plagued her, not one night she did not miss El. El was Phina's sister, not by blood, but by shared pasts, shared trauma. They had both endured Hawkins Lab, and Doctor Brenner, Papa.

Another thing Phina thought about frequently. Papa. When she had seen Brenner, laying on the floor, dying, her memories had flooded back into her mind, the damn built by her trauma no longer holding them back. She remembered every little detail, the experiments, the isolation chamber, her powers. Phina had been well aware of her gift of fire, it showed itself easily due to her temper. Her other affinities, were not as easy to access, but they were all the more powerful.

   With air, she could create winds stronger than a category five hurricane. They were strong enough to shred through anything in its path. With it, she could lift things, almost like El could, but different. She could create a ball of wind to surround the object and move it wherever she wished. Just before she had escaped Hawkins Lab, they had been trying to get her to use that power on herself, to lift herself, to fly.

   Her water was a little like her fire, more brute in attacks, but it was more controllable. Phina could form the water into whatever she wished, anything from small creatures like butterflies to her favorite, wolves. She created the wolves and they almost became alive, attacking where she wanted them to, but killing in their own ways, usually by drowning a victim. With water, also came ice, she could freeze the wolves and they could use their teeth to bite.

Then she had earth, her strongest affinity. Earth was so much more than plants and dirt, it was life. The plants and trees were alive, they had a consciousness, they saw Phina as one of them. She could control them, yes, but most of the time, she didn't have to. They protected her, they strenghtened her, they were a part of her. When she had explained this to the boys, Dustin had taken to calling her Mother Nature, and she guessed he wasn't really wrong. She was nature itself, anything related to it was at her command. And she was at their command.

   A year, so much can happen in a year, and so much did. Everyone had slowly healed, together, but the scars still remained. Phina grew stronger, but so did her shadows. Shadows plagued her, and every shadow she saw brought her back to the drawing. The one she drew last Christmas. It still rested in the first page of her sketchbook, where she would stare at it for hours. Nothing had happened, not yet, but it lingered in her mind, always reminding her that anything could happen at any moment. The paranoia arose in her from time to time, never truly gone, festering like an infected wound.

   Like right now, the moments when she was alone, when she had nothing to keep her mind at bay. Phina lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. With one hand, she gripped the blanket of her bed, tethering her to reality, and the other grabbed her necklace, reminding herself of her power. The little flame never left her neck, and it had become a life line to her, grabbing it whenever she felt uneasy. It brought her comfort, yet it also brought a face. Steve Harrington had given her the necklace last year, as a thank you.

   Another development over the year, Phina had found it harder and harder to hate him. Once he stopped hanging out with Carol and Tommy, he had become a lot nicer. He had even started to stand up for her against them almost every morning, and she had Nancy to thank for that. Nancy had changed him, for the better. Nancy and Steve were still going strong, and he grew better as a person every single day. It was a good thing, so why did Phina feel so bad whenever she saw them together. She was happy for her sister, and even for Steve, but, something was just wrong. Phina tried to say it was because of Jonathan, that him and Nancy had developed something together, and they did, there was no ignoring that, but she knew there was more to it. She just didn't want to face it head on.

   Phina hears yelling coming from Nancy's room, she was yelling at Mike. Arcade night, Phina chuckles, sitting up right waiting for Mike. On cue, her door was then thrown open as Mike rushes in, causing Phina to laugh even more.

   "Quarters are in the brown bag on the desk," Phina tells him without a moments hesitation, "share with Dustin, there is ten dollars worth for each of you, and a little extra if Lucas or Will need it."

   "Have I ever told you that you're the best sister in the world," Mike asks, breathing heavily.

   "You don't have to, I already know I am," she jokes, "now you better get goin' before Nancy catches you."

   "Mike!"

   He rushes out of the room with a quick goodbye, narrowly escaping Nancy as she was about to turn into Phina's room. She chases after him again, yelling at him as she goes.

   Phina shakes her head as she stands up to close her door. Those two will never stop will they, she chuckles. I hope they never do.

   As she walks back to her bed, she looks at a vase of flowers on her desk, roses from Jonathan on her 17th birthday in June. They were wilting. She smiles at them, lifting her hand to touch the closest one, they all regained their life, the soft petals kissing her skin as she filled the vase with water seemingly from nowhere. Life begins again.

-

   School? Dreadful. Her senior year? Even worse. Phina was taking her sweet time to get to school, taking the longest route she could. They were only a few weeks into the semester, and she was already about to pull her hair out. Being surrounded by carbon copies of Carol and Tommy, not to mention the stress of college and what she wanted to do with her life, she'd rather face the Demogorgan again than this.

   The road she was on was usually empty this early in the morning, giving her the freedom of how fast she went. So she took her sweet time, cruising along slowly, feeling the wind wrap around her like an embrace, and admiring the nature that surrounds her. The sounds, smells, all of it, calming her. That is, until the sound of an engine broke it. The car, a Camaro, flew past her, way to close. She swerves towards the side of the road to keep from getting hit by the asshole driver, which leads her towards the trees. She stops just in time not to hit one.

   The car was long gone already, due to the outrageous speed it had been going. Phina was breathing heavily, her adrenaline running high. That asshole could have killed me, her temper flared. Along with it, came a ball of fire that formed around her clenching fist. She shakes off the fire, willing herself to breath a little. It didn't calm her down, but it did help her focus. Oh this was going to be a bad day.

-

   Phina flies into the parking lot, going towards her usual spot to find a car already in it, the Camaro. Now she was livid. They had just parked, blasting Rock You Like a Hurricane. The drivers side door swings open, one jean clad leg coming out of it. Then comes the completely jean clad boy as well. On the other side, a younger girl gets out, taking her long board and leaving quickly.

   The boy looks around the parking lot for a moment and starts to walk towards the school, throwing a cigarette down as he goes. Phina glares at him, her temper rising again. She parks her bike in the space right next to his throwing down her stand. She stands up off the bike and storms towards mullet head.

   In Steve's car, Nancy and Steve watch her. Steve noticed instantly how mad she was when she parked, and all that anger was turned on the new kid.

   "This is not good," Steve says, jumping out of the car, "not good at all."

   "Hey asshole," Phina calls out to mullet head.

   He turns around, almost as if it was actually his name, "yes?"

   The pure arrogance in his voice stokes her rage, "I don't know if you noticed, but you ran me off the road earlier."

   "Was that you? Oh, well, I'm sorry Red," he smirks, his eyes trailing over her.

   "Don't call me that, and keep your eyes up here," she growls, "you could have killed me."

   "That would've been a real shame, to loose such a beauty as yourself," he shakes his head, his eyes still not meeting hers.

   "I'm flattered," she bites out.

   He smirks, "you should be."

   She snarls at him, "I oughta punch you in the mouth right here and now."

   "You wouldn't." His smirk grows wider. "Not with those delicate little hands."

   "You're new here, you don't know me," she snaps at him, taking a large step closer to him, "you don't know what I can do, and you don't want to find out."

   "What if I do, Red."

   The suductive undertone was maddening, "listen here asshole, don't call me Red, and if you even look at me wrong, your gonna find out what these delicate little hands really do, got it?"

   Phina smiles venomously at him, quickly going back to her harsh glare. She shoulder checks him as she walks towards the school. He is harshly turned around, forced to watch her go, he didn't mind at all.

   Steve, who had watched the whole thing, felt his blood boil as this new kid looked Phina up and down. He was about to go give this kid a piece of his mind when Nancy laid her hand on his arm.

   "Come on, where gonna be late for first period," Nancy says, watching the new kid and her sister.

   "Yeah, lets go," Steve nods, hesitantly.

-1777 words-

Ohhhhh, Phina is angry. So this marks the beginning of Season Two! Hope y'all are ready for this.

-Morgan

[zanycrusadetraveler]

Do you Know enough Old-Timey Words to Read your Grandparents Love Letters.

Giselle from "Enchanted" becomes disenchanted when she enters the Big Apple and learns that love is more complicated than it is in her fairy-tale world. A good general knowledge and a strong trivia background show a deeper understanding of the world around us, of events past and present, of politics or even economics. This song by Australian New Wave band Men At Work topped charts around the world. The '80s were a wild time for music, with New Wave and Arena Rock dominating the airwaves. However, "relative" dating or time can be an easy concept for students to learn. Can he still turn back to a human - a better human? It’s not to say that something not-so-serious cannot turn into dating, but you most definitely can’t assume it will. But will he choose this exciting path for himself even if it means deceiving his wife, Helen (aka Elastigirl)? Will he learn to put his selfish desires aside and help Moana restore the heart, even if it means losing his magic powers? If your dating profile has a photo that also shows up on your Instagram or Facebook account, it will be easier for someone to find you on social media.

With these cute love quotes, you'll find it all. Bookish Belle falls in love with Beast, but she also has to prove her dad isn't crazy - well, not too crazy. We love the same movies. I remember when my family was in the same boat. Maybe you just haven't found your type yet, but don't worry, because a lot of people are in the same boat. Not only does this process bring back the charm of face-to-face meet-ups-no more being ghosted online by a Tinder match-the time restriction is also in sync with our strenuous day-to-day lives where one would prefer steering clear of indulging in hours of meaningless conversations with people. Soft cheese is what you need, so pick the best one! Neither, I'm just the quiet one. Neither, I'm too broke for Christmas gifts! The app also comes with some fun built-in games that work well as ice-breakers, including Trivia, Draw Party and a multiplayer version of Flappy Bird.

No way, my family comes first! Getting our family pictures. Which member of the British royal family would you most like to wed? Per People, the trio went on a family vacation to Georgia with Affleck's three children and their dogs. אולסטאר אסקורט Perhaps you've gone to therapy, attended online support groups for divorcing people, or just spent a lot of time working through it yourself. Any time is a good time for this! It's up to Buzz Lightyear to remind Woody that he's a toy and that's a good thing! Andy from the first three "Toy Story" films grows up and heads off to college. Wash the head, ears, and neck first. Our first kiss during the ceremony. Disney movies may be predominantly fairy tales, but they're also human tales. Since the 1937 film "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs," Disney characters have had to face some tough choices - and we're not talking choices like "Should I take the pumpkin or the squash carriage to the ball tonight?" The reason the Disney movies resonate with audiences so much is because people can identify with the characters' dilemmas, even when they don't always agree with their decisions.

Yes, you have to say, "Please" and "Thank you" to your boo! Yes, but I never tell anyone that. I’m eddysosam3. I have registered on the Asian dating site because I wish to meet now a woman who is confident, secure and happy. When she talked to an agent at her regional FBI office, she says, they took her report - and told her that a woman in the next town had lost $800,000. For more information about when to change cardinality, see Understanding additional options. For more information about when to make a particular relationship active, see Understanding additional options. More excitingly, 20 free credits are offered to each new user, and it’s enough to try some services on the site. Are you hip to enough old-timey words to read them, though? So don't hesitate to keep looking if the man you are dating is not ready to ratchet up the relationship. Are Mongol nomads all nihilists at thirteen?

[treadmilltreats]

You can change the world with one kind act at a time

There are sometimes when you're really down and in those times it seems like God always places someone in my world that makes me remember why I'm here and what my purposes is.

 Recently while talking to an old friend of mine, he told me of this amazing good deed another friend of ours did. See his brothers died suddenly, back when we were still in our teens. They were my best friends for years and died tragically a year apart from each other. His parents didn't have a lot of money  and couldn't afford headstones on their graves. He told me this friend bought them a headstone, to me that was the most amazing, unselfish gift someone could do for their friends.

We were talking and wondering where he was as we hadn't heard from him in years. My friend wanted to thank him for his kindness, so I decided to look him up on Facebook. Of course there were many people with his same name, this couldn't be that easy right? I decided to write a message to all of them and see if they were the person that we grew up with. 

Weeks went by and I haven't heard anything and so I thought maybe it was a lost cause. When all of a sudden I get a message saying "Hey it's me and I can't believe it's you, here's my number, let's catch up"

Of course I called him right away and it was as if no time had passed, we picked up right where we left off and we started to catch up on each other's lives.

Here's the thing that really made me cry, it was when he told me that I was the 1st person that he met in when he moved to our town. He said that I was so kind to him and right away offered my friendship and that touched him so much that he never forgot that, even in all these 40 something years later.

It made me cry because it showed me that you could do something so small, so insignificant to me because I was just being me and being friendly but that act of kindness touched somebody's life that they remembered that 40 years later. 

You will never know what you can do by just being kind to someone, by just smiling or talking or listening to someone. You don't know how much that could change a person or how deeply that can affect a person's life. I Remember my best friend used to laugh at me all the time and tell me that I was like the ASPCA, that I was always bringing strays and inviting them to sit at our lunch table. I just remember thinking, wow these kids are new here, they have no friends and it must be hard to start over in a new school without your friends. Although I never knew that feeling as I was raised in the same town, I always had that sense of compassion for somebody else. 

I was always able to put myself in someone else's shoes and feel what they might be feeling.

See you never know how you're going to pay it forward to somebody. How your kindness will affect somebody else's life, even the smallest amount of compassion or kindness can go a long way when someone is down or hasn't had that from another person in a long time.

 I remember when I was at my lowest point in my life, my mom had just passed away and it was my first Christmas without her. I was getting divorced but we were still living in the same house and it was hell. That week I had the flu so bad that  I couldn't get out of bed for a whole week. I laid there and no one, not even my children had asked me if I wanted even a glass of water. I remember thinking, I'm so unhappy and I don't wanna be here, I had hit rock bottom so I decided I was going to end it all. I wrote letters to my girls and I got all my mother's old pills together and I was going to do it. When all of a sudden I got a Facebook message and I thought who could be messaging me at 12:30 at night on Christmas Eve?

 It was somebody I hadn't spoken to in 30 years and he just said

 "I was thinking about you and how you were always so kind to me growing up and you were such a good friend and if there's anything you ever need, if you ever need to talk call me day or night,here's my number"

 Now I know this was God's intervention and I picked up the phone and I called this man and he had every right to hang up on me as I was in the ugly cry and sounded like a crazy person but he didn't, he talked me off the ledge and that changed my life.

That night I ended up giving my life to God, as I had had nowhere else to turn. Two days later I found my church and my life has been changed ever since. The part about this story I love the most is a year later I was divorced, I'd had my own apartment, I started my own business and my life had changed dramatically. I was happier then I've been in the last 20 years and I decided on Christmas Eve to write a thank you letter to this kind man that saved my life. I Thank him for his kindness, for remembering my kindness and saving my life. About an hour later I got another Facebook message from a different friend who said he went through this horrible divorce. His wife wouldn't let him see his kids, he lost everything and he was at the lowest point of his life. He decided he was going to take his life that night but after reading my blog it gave him hope that his life could change and he wanted to reach out to thank me for sharing my story.

I was blessed enough to pay it forward to somebody else. You never know what your story will do for somebody else. You never know what your compassion can do for somebody, you never know what your kindness and your kind words can do to someone's day.

You can change someone's life in an instant, just by doing or saying something that small and maybe you may think it's insignificant but to that person, who's holding on by a thread, it can change everything for them.

So today my friends, remember everyday we must realize why we here, what is our purpose and how we can change the world. We sometimes think that we're only one person, so how can we change the world? You can change the world by one kind act at a time.

"Be the change you want to see"

 

"And just when the caterpillar thought his life over...he turned into a beautiful butterfly"

**Now released my latest book**

The Blessing in Disguise.... revealed

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