#finally the last song from this album is done! sorry it took me so long | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

averagewriter-inthedark · 2 years ago

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Lover 💗 | Bradley Bradshaw Imagine

TGM masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Bradley Bradshaw x singer!reader (female/romance)

Content Warnings: fluff, mentions of sexism, references to pop culture, profanity | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 5.6k

Requested 📨 yes/no (for @auroradawnwrites 💗)

Premise : When it came to her love life, singer and songwriter Y/n L/n had a reputation where it felt like the world was against her to the point she doubted ever finding her perfect match. Being in the industry for so long made it difficult to envision what a life with her potential soulmate would be like. But sometimes great things come to people who are patient. And finding the person who made Y/n feel like the only girl in the world had that reputation flicker away like dust on a bookshelf.

Note: I know I keep apologizing for the long waits in my requests but I promise it’s because of having to balance school, random shit happening in my life, and wanting to put out a developed, well-thought out story that the requested person deserves 🥹 and I realized about week ago when I started writing this one after finally getting to it after it was sent in February. @auroradawnwrites I saw that you posted last month that you were leaving your blog but if you happen to see this on another account or still have the notifications on for that blog just know I’m so sorry for this taking so long and I hope it was everything you imagined 😭

Songs headcanonned for singer!reader: ‘Love Story,’ ‘Bad Blood,’ ‘Look What You Made Me Do,’ ‘Getaway Car’ ‘You Need To Calm Down’ by Taylor Swift. ‘Love’ by Lana Del Rey. Albums mentioned that are headcanonned for singer!reader: ‘Lover’, ‘1989’ (I just changed it to 1986 to suit the headcanonned year of birth for reader), ‘Reputation,’ ‘Fearless,’ ‘Red’

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“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome back our next guest,” Jimmy Fallon grins to the audience, arm slightly raising towards the curtains. “She’s been a friend to The Tonight Show for a long time. Here to celebrate twenty years since her debut and to talk about her newest album ‘Lover,’ singer and songwriter—the one and only, Y/n L/n!!”

There’s no need to turn on the sign reading ‘Applause,’ because the audience are on their feet when the curtains draw open slightly to reveal the beaming popstar. People are waving frantically, whistling, some even on the verge of tears at the fact they were in the presence of their idol. It was even hard hearing the band play from the noise

Y/n smiled the entire walk to Jimmy, blowing kisses at the crowd before embracing the man in a hug and settling down on the arm chair. “Wow, wow, wow,” he shouted, watching her give one last wave as he sat in his own chair. “Hi, Y/n.”

“Hi, Jimmy! It’s wonderful to see you again.”

“It’s great to see you too, it’s been awhile since we’ve had you on, huh?” Both make faces indicating they were thinking about her last appearance on the show.

“I think it’s been almost…six years,” Y/n tapped her lips with a finger. “Pre-pandemic I believe—because I haven’t really done much since 2019.”

“Yeah, you took a bit of a break.”

“A much needed one,” she chuckled, “But it feels so great to be back. I’ve been taking this time to really put time into discovering who I am as a person and what is next for me. I’m so grateful for the fans who’ve supported me all this time—I know,” she looks to the camera, “I know I kept you waiting, but fear not, I am back and better than ever.” The statement ignites a holler and applause from the crowd.

Jimmy claps with the audience, “That’s what I’m talking about. What can you tell us about this new music you’ve been working on? I know I mentioned your upcoming one, but you actually announced you will be releasing another at the end of this year, correct?”

Instantly Y/n lights up, “That’s right, Jimmy. For starters Lover is probably my most personal album to date. During the pandemic I basically shut myself off from everyone—and the world because I deleted the social media apps off my phone,” there’s a light chuckle from the crowd, “which made everyone go crazy thinking I died. But I can assure you I was just trying to put all my time and energy into writing, producing, selecting which songs would go on the track list. Each song is there for a specific reason—telling a story per say, and I feel listeners will be able to relate in some way.”

“Why the name ‘Lover,’?” Jimmy asked with curiosity, “is it a metaphor for the story or does it have a deeper meaning?” Judging by the cheesy smile Y/n started to do, Jimmy straightened his posture. “Are you….?”

“It’s for the lovers, you know?” Y/n shrugged nonchalantly. Those around didn’t buy it, leaning forward in their seats with curious eyes. “Yeah it’s about love and those feelings where you think your heart is about to burst from your chest. Like I said, many will be able to relate to it.”

Jimmy gave a look, “So did someone in your life inspire it perhaps?”

Instead of answering right at that second, Y/n remained grinning as the face of inspiration and the owner of her heart appeared in her mind. His gorgeous hazel eyes glowing under the sunlight. The feeling of his warm body against hers each time he held her in his arms. Tickling sensations from his mustache when he rained kisses across her skin. The sound of his laugh whenever he made a joke or she did something silly just to see him smile. Fingers dancing across the piano while they sang their favorite songs in their own private concert.

Her lover. Her life. Her reason for waking up everyday in an endless state of bliss. The person who inspired nearly every song on the album, best describing it as a love letter to him.

Relationships and romance had been a complicated part of Y/n’s life and career. A reputation often frowned upon despite only seeing a small picture.

It all started one summer day in Nashville, Tennessee. 17-year-old Y/n had big dreams and aspirations of being a singer, spending her free time playing guitar and writing songs about teenage experiences. Growing up in Tennessee, the birthplace of country music, Y/n was surrounded by the legacy of icons like Dolly Parton, The Dixie Chicks, Johnny Cash, Hank Williams, Reba McEntire, and Kenny Rogers. It was all she listened to growing up, though she did dabble in pop and R&B—going on to cite Aaliyah, TLC, Whitney Houston, and David Bowie as influences in her music.

“I hear the high school is having a talent show Friday night,” her coworker hummed, handing over the now clean plate to be dried. “Did you sign up?”

“No,” Y/n tiredly exhaled. It was pushing 8 o’clock and she still had one more hour until closing. Working at a popular diner gave Y/n the ability to save for college and an apartment, but it meant working more hours than what she legally was supposed to—on top of balancing school and band. “I have a pre-cal test on monday so I planned to stay in and study.”

“Oh c’mon! You’ve been itching to sign up all year—why back out now? All for a test you know you’ll get an A on?”

Y/n rolled her eyes, taking another plate to dry, “That’s reaching and you know it.”

“Y/n, you’re one of the smartest people in our grade. Literally will be in the top five come graduation. It’s a Friday night and the whole school is gonna be there,” her friend pleads to her, “you’ve got a voice that’s meant to be heard and songs that should be on the radio.”

The teen gives a ‘I don’t think so,’ shrug, “Eh, I feel my style is not exactly what country music is looking for.”

“Maybe so…but maybe it’s what it needs.”

Guitar in hand and shaking like a leaf, Y/n pulled everything in her to drum her fingers on the strings. The spotlight shining down on her made her squint, unable to see into the crowd save for the silhouette of their heads.

“Just breathe, Y/n,” she mentally told herself. It was dead quiet in the auditorium after a light applause when the drama teacher called her name. And since she wasn’t using an electric guitar, there was no way to hook hers up to the speakers. “Breathe and let your voice do the work.”

Clearing her throat, her lips curled into a shy smile, “This is an original song I’ve been working on. Hope you like it.” Slowly the tune began to echo through the auditorium. Y/n’s voice was shaky at the beginning, but soon found confidence when she closed her eyes and pictured herself in the comfort of her own room.

“We were both young when I first saw you.”

“I close my eyes and the flashback starts, I’m standing’ there.”

“On a balcony in summer air.”

Those in the crowd perked up, schoolmates looking at each other with impressed gazes.

“See the lights, see the party, the ball gowns.”

“See you make your way through the crowd, and say, “Hello.”

“Little did I know.”

Finally finding her rhythm, a genuine grin broke out on her face.

“That you were Romeo, you were throwin’ pebbles.”

“And my daddy said, “Stay away from Juliet—and I was cryin’ on the staircase,”

“Beggin’ you, “Please don’t go,” she let her voice drag out the ‘go’, igniting jaws to be dropped. “And I said.”

“Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone. I'll be waiting, all there’s left to do is run.”

“You’ll be the prince and I’ll be the princess.”

“It’s a love story, baby, just say, ‘Yes.’”

Needless to say, Y/n went home with the winning trophy….and a meeting with Capitol Records Nashville.

Going to college was no longer the plan for Y/n once her signature hit the contract. 3 albums and a promise to take country music by storm was the new future. Staring as soon as her tassel turned from right to left with the class of 2004. Y/n packed up her tiny Honda Civic with everything she had, kissed her family goodbye with plans to see them for the holidays and settled into a cozy studio apartment smack in the middle of Nashville.

“You have a unique voice and lyrical direction, Y/n,” Randy Kingston, one of the execs at CRN said to her one day. “You’re not full country—by that I mean there’s a pop element you bring to the table. Country-Pop if you will.”

Y/n didn’t know how to respond except nod, “Uhhh yeah? I listen to a lot of different genres—-Pop being a big one. A-and I like to experiment by adding different….flavors to my music.” Her expression turns nervous, “is that gonna be a problem, sir?”

Randy rubbed the bottom of his chin with a hand, “No, I don’t think it will. It’s refreshing and something new. Frankly I think you’re gonna do well with the youngin’s. Your age range will likely be the best receivers.”

Turns out Randy was right. Releasing her first two singles were met with wide recognition from teenagers and young adults. Topping the country music charts for several weeks. During that time Y/n began working on her debut self-titled album on top of filming her first music video for ‘Love Story’. When it dropped, it didn’t just get noticed within the country scene. MTV released it during their early morning showings most people played when getting ready for school and work. Doing so allowed ‘Love Story’ to get more attention that people who were not even country fans were purchasing the single.

“Platinum?!” Y/n screamed at the sight of the framed record indicating ‘Love Story’ sold one million copies.

“Platinum,” Randy grinned, presenting it to her. “Well done, kiddo. You deserve it.” He also dropped the ball that Ellen Degeneres called to schedule an appearance—which nearly had Y/n drop the frame in her hands.

The Ellen Degeneres Show was the first public interview Y/n had ever done. And….it was the first time she was questioned about her love life. Something that would become her greatest nemesis throughout her entire career.

“So your song ‘Love Story’ is all about love, yes?” Ellen asked, igniting a laugh from the audience given the title of the song made it obvious what it was about.

“Yes.”

“So does that mean you got some love going on for yourself? Anyone who inspired this for you?”

“U-Uh, no?” It came out more like a question, causing the audience to laugh while she nervously smiled. “Not really—I-I’m not dating anyone currently, but the song sorta came from my love for romance novels and movies. Everyone desires love,” she nods to herself, “and I wanted to write something that people could relate to. Plus I love Romeo and Juliet—which is the big inspiration for the song.”

Following the appearance on Ellen, Y/n focused on writing music and releasing her albums. Her unique sound of combining country with elements of pop and R&B had listeners from all over the world drawn to her. It was a new era of country music.

But not everyone was very accepting of it.

Older generations and die hard lovers of traditional country were very unwelcoming to Y/n. They felt she didn’t belong in the genre and was better suited for pop. Though Y/n agreed to some extent, she feared making the transition from country to full pop wouldn’t be wise. She was still roughly new to the industry, trusting the judgment of her label who she was contracted to do 3 albums for. So she continued to fulfill her duty until the right moment came.

By the end of the first decade in the 21st century, Y/n had established herself one of the leading artists in country music with four Grammys, six MTV Moonmen, four AMA’s, five Billboard awards and 12 CMA’s. She appeared twice on SNL, performed at Dick Clark’s New Year Rockin’ Eve, and even collaborated with Miranda Lambert.

Yet the media liked to only talk about Y/n’s dating history.

In the first year of her career, Y/n briefly dated Jesse McCartney after first meeting at the 2005 Kids Choice Awards. Shortly after their breakup she was seen with Harry Potter actor Tom Felton, but nothing came out of it. The ‘date’ the media thought had actually been a handout between several of their mutual friends where they happened to be pictured smiling and laughing. After that incident Y/n did get into a five month long relationship with Leonardo DiCaprio, who was twelve years older than her and sparked endless conversation in the media.

Then in 2007-2009 Y/n became involved with Eddie Redmayne following their introduction to each other at Ellen Degeneres’ birthday party. They remained friends afterwards, but their relationship inspired a lot of Y/n’s work which resulted in people criticizing her for making too many break up songs.

“You’ve had quite the track record when it comes to the romance scene, Y/n,” David Letterman voiced during her appearance on his show. The singer was overcome with immediate dread. Again was she subjected to questions about her love life when it was no one’s business. But of course, if there’s one thing men like David have, it’s the audacity. “Which brings me to my next questions: are you dating anyone? And are they gonna have a song about them once you two break up?”

Now unfortunately it was common knowledge late night show hosts were disrespectful towards their guests and didn’t know what boundaries were. Though this was known, however, there was still the underlying pressure to keep silent by smiling and pushing through. Sometimes playing it off like it doesn’t affect you was better than having an outburst and being criticized more by the media. Displaying any offense would label them emotional and sensitive.

Though she wanted nothing more than to walk off the set and cry in her dressing room, Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat and answered as calmly as she could muster. “I’m not seeing anyone at the moment. I just want to focus on my music and what comes from my heart is what I put out.”

When Y/n did get into a relationship or was seen on a friendly date—hell even being spotted when out with a male friend for lunch had paparazzi and tabloids bombarding her.

“Is love in the air….again? Country music’s it girl, 24-year-old Y/n L/n, was seen holding hands with Australian actor Xavier Samuel who’s playing Riley Biers in the upcoming third installment of The Twilight Saga. Just this past March Y/n was linked to the son of Tennessee’s Attorney General. Let’s not forget L/n was in a two year romance with Eddie Redmayne before calling it quits last fall. Fans are starting to notice a pattern when it comes to L/n’s relationships and album releases. Should we expect her new single to drop within the next year? And will this romance with Samuel blossom into something long term or end as a spur of the moment flame?”

Notice how all the attention is Y/n and her life? Never once were the men she dated ever asked questions like she was—even if they had a history rivaling hers. Take Leo for example. The women he dated only got younger than Y/n as the years went on and people barely bat an eye.

After the release of her third studio album with CRN, Y/n had a tough decision to make. By that point her last album had more pop than country. The reaction of the fans was pretty much, “You need to just label yourself a pop artist now.” “‘Red’ was literally 90% Pop with 10% Country.” “Stop saying you’re a country music star when the last album you put out was anything but country.”

So…it was safe to say it was time to make the move to a different genre. Thankfully Capitol Records in Los Angeles was ready with the pen in hand to sign Y/n on. There she had creative control on what she put out and Y/n was excited to get started on a new era in her life.

2012 would go down as the year where Y/n was on the edge of her seat with how her career would go. Fans were mixed about her going to pop despite her recent music having mostly pop elements. Then there was the fact she was dating Tyler Hoechlin from Teen Wolf which had fangirls hating her guts for dating their celebrity crush.

What’s sad is Y/n was used to that reception whenever she was in a relationship with a public figure. First Jesse then Tom, Leo, Eddie, and Xavier. Can’t forget the times she got caught on dates with Robert Pattinson, Micheal B. Jordan, and Chris Evans. Then there were the incidents where the paparazzi captured her making out with Sebastian Stan at an after party and leaving the 2011 Grammys with Nate Buzoliac before he made it big as Kol Mikaelson in The Vampire Diaries.

Getting a break was not in the cards for the singer.

When things ended with Tyler in 2015, Y/n told herself she would not date anyone for awhile. Her album ‘1986’ was met with critical acclaim and positive reception from fans, earning her more awards to her growing collection, including the Grammy for Album of the Year. The entire time on tour she focused on having fun and not worrying about what people thought of her. Yeah she still got questions from interviews and hosts about dating she’d simply reply with, “I’m single, and let’s not entertain that further. Next question.”

@ inmyreputationera: I guess @Y/nL/n86 decided romance isn’t exactly her thing. I wonder how that’ll change her music.

@ stanningselenerr: not me checking @ Y/ndatingupdates daily for any new info.

Those were just the handful of tweets Y/n saw everyday on her Twitter feed. It got to the point she’d have to mute notifications whenever she was tagged. While she hated doing so because she loved interacting with fans, the singer needed time away from the constant surveillance of her personal life.

So fast forward to mid-summer of 2018. Y/n hadn’t put out an album in nearly three years nor had she been dating anyone. Yeah people still asked her from time to time though she learned to not let it affect her. Honestly it was a breath of fresh air. She was happy, healthy, and living her best life. Putting her heart and soul into songwriting which was heavily inspired by the reputation she’d garnered since her debut. Not to mention developing closer bonds with her friends and family after making the impulse decision in 2017 to move back to Tennessee. It felt good to be back home. Returning to her roots and the place that started it all after being away for so many years. It was a great time.

Now she was due back to Los Angeles to meet with her manager and producers. Y/n was ready to get back into the studio as much as her fans were telling her they were waiting for new music. With a first-class ticket in hand, Y/n boarded her red-eye flight from Nashville International to LAX and settled in for the five hour flight. It would have them landing at just after 3am Pacific time and while Y/n wanted to rest, she could not for the life of her sleep on a plane.

Approaching her seat Y/n noticed a man in a military uniform seated in the seat beside hers. “Excuse me,” she caught his attention, his head raising where he put two and two together by her hand pointing to the window seat.

“Oh sorry, ma’am,” it took everything in Y/n not to stare at him when he got up. He was very handsome. In his uniform, hazel eyes and sun kissed skin. The most notable feature was his mustache that most men could not pull off yet he seemed to.

“Do you need help with that?” The question pulled her from her mini daydream. He was referring to the carryon bag in her hand.

“Oh I got it—.”

“It’s no problem,” he was already taking the bag from her, securing it in the overhead compartment.

“Thank you so much,” Y/n thanked him while moving into the row, placing her purse in her lap when she sat down. The man returned to his seat just as the next wave of passengers boarded.

Manny, her personal bodyguard who’d been with Y/n since her first tour, was seated in front of her. When they got the tickets he purposely told her to have them separated saying, “I need my beauty sleep and while I love you, you will talk the entire time.” Sure enough when Y/n leaned over to ask him a question Manny was already knocked out, buckled in with his eye mask over his eyes and earbuds in.

Well that left Y/n with little to do. And when she went to retrieve her Kindle she groaned at the realization she forgot to turn back her reading light.

“Everything okay?” She saw the man in her peripheral vision slightly turn his head.

“Yeah just…annoyed with myself. I thought I packed my reading light but I must’ve misplaced it.” God that made her sound like a grandma.

His response was an ‘ah’ sound. “Wish I could help ya there, but I’m not usually equipped with something like that.”

“It’s fine,” she chuckled, buckling in her seatbelt. “It was to pass the time—I can’t sleep on flights. Even though it's midnight and I should feel tired.”

“I’m the same,” he suddenly extended a hand, “I’m Bradley by the way.”

Hesitant to reply in case he were to react to her name, Y/n pushed back any concern and gave a warm smile as she took his hand, “I’m Y/n. Nice to meet you, Bradley.”

“Y/n…” her name was repeated slowly, Bradley’s eyes consorting as though they were deep in thought. A wave of dread and nerves coursed through her. Then Bradley grinned, “Oh! I thought you looked familiar. You sing that song—what was it, ‘Love Story?’ Sorry I don’t mean to sound weird,” he let go of her hand when he realized he was still shaking it. “And I don’t want to bother you. I just can’t help but go, ‘wow!’”

“No-no-no, it’s okay! You’re totally fine.” Before long the two fell into conversation following the typical pre-flight announcements. Y/n was amazed by how natural it felt talking to Bradley. She discovered he was a Naval aviator, coming home from an assignment overseas and was flying to L.A to visit some friends. Bradley had been a graduate of UVA and attended the elite Fighter Weapons School, marking ten years with the navy that year.

“Forgive me for admitting this,” he said after the first hour into the flight, lowering his voice when a passenger trying to sleep glared at them. “But while I know who you are…I’m not really familiar with your work. Y-yeah I mentioned your one song but that’s literally all I know,” he laughed nervously. “My taste in music, I’m embarrassed to say aloud, is very limited.”

Y/n tilts her head, “how limited?”

“Uh, I pretty much only listen to the 1950s all the way to the 80s. Dabbling in what’s popular nowadays once in a blue moon. My karaoke songs are all Jerry Lewis” Bradley gives a gentle smile, “And while I can easily do a Google search, I’d much rather hear it from you if you don’t mind telling me.”

What’s that saying again? Oh that’s right, ‘And the rest was history.’

No but literally Y/n could barely contain her attraction to Bradley after he said that to her. She hoped to God she didn’t look like a fool as she spoke of her career and cool places she’s been. Time flew as they talked. In fact the two were so caught up in their conversation they talked the remainder of the journey to L.A, ending with the exchange of phone numbers and the promise to meet up.

It was decided right from the get go that Bradley and Y/n wanted to keep their relationship hidden. Regardless if the one date went somewhere, the last thing Y/n wanted was to have Bradley in the public eye and cause complications with his job. And let’s not forget her album was releasing within the next year. So, there was going to be a lot of attention on her wherever she went.

“The fact we’ve managed to keep this quiet for a year is outstanding,” Y/n said through a mouthful of cake. Bradley had surprised her with her favorite kind, the icing on the top reading, ‘Happy Anniversary, baby—we’ve got them fooled.’

She couldn’t believe they were already marking one year. Time didn’t seem to exist when she was with Bradley. He was everything she envisioned in a partner. Caring, compassionate, funny, intuitive. Listened to her concerns and communicated. Never made her doubt herself or paid attention to the media.

When she brought up her reputation, or better yet the one the press painted her out to have, Bradley stopped her and said, “who you have history with is not my business—unless they did something to hurt you because then I’ll have a problem with them. And those people talking nonsense about you have nothing else better to do with themselves. I care about you, Y/n. The only one who has influence on how I see you, is you. And I see you as the most beautiful, hardworking, intelligent person who knows her worth. Fuck what they say.”

Yeah that night ended with her jumping his bones.

Bradley took a fork full of his own into his mouth, “I for sure thought they were gonna catch us the night I snuck you on base.” After their first meeting in L.A, Bradley had returned to Virginia while Y/n remained to work on her album. It was a couple months before she went home to Tennessee, then for the holidays they planned to meet up when Y/n was on her way to New York. Sneaking her on base involved the two going undercover where they met at a discreet location and having Y/n shove herself under blankets in his backseat.

The singer laughed at the memory, “Thank Goodness for Shania. Had she not posted that photo to ‘tip off’ the paps then we’d have a whole different outcome.” Bradley laughed with her, placing his fork down on the napkin.

“I’m sorry I can’t be there for your release day,” Bradley had been called back to Top Gun for a special detachment by the Navy. Unfortunately the timing was right when her sixth studio album would drop. The details were still unclear, but that it was a team mission where he would compete against his colleagues. Y/n had yet to meet any of Bradley’s friends and vice versa. The only people in her circle who knew of their relationship were her manager, Manny, and family. But when you signed up to keep your love life private, it meant friends were lost in the dark.

“It’s okay, Roo,” she told him. “We’ll have our own celebration.” Another cake, this time with the design being the album’s cover art on it, was brought over the day before Bradley was set to fly to San Diego and the two had their private release party with just the two of them. The music was blasting through the speakers, Y/n jumping up and down with Bradley who was singing at the top of his lungs.

“Band-aids don’t fix bullet holes! You say sorry just for show! If you live like that, you live with ghosts!”

“I’m in a getaway car. I left you in a motel bar. Put the money in a bag and I stole the key—that was the last time you ever saw me—Oh!”

“Ooh, look what you made me do! Look what you made me do! Look what you just made me do!”

Champagne was popped, kisses were shared, and they danced the entire night until it came time to sleep.

They FaceTimed whenever Bradley had free time, even if it was in the later hours of the night. Those three weeks Y/n felt her heart long for Bradley in a way it had never done with her previous partners. She felt his excitement, his distress. The day he left for the mission Y/n paced around her home for hours—unable to focus on anything and overcome with nausea. It was as though her mind was trying to tell her something was wrong.

Relief came at around nightfall, the singer tripping as she raced to grab her phone when it rang. Seeing Bradley’s picture pop up had the breath she was holding in release. “Oh thanks God,” was the first thing she said.

“I’m coming back to you,” was his response. Tears pricked in the corner of her eyes, hand going to her chest to calm the rapid beat of her heart.

“I would expect nothing less, Lieutenant Bradshaw.”

Several celebrations were in store for the couple when Bradley returned to the east coast. Not only did he receive a medal from the Navy for his brave actions but got a promotion. Y/n’s album hit #1 on the Billboard Hot 100 in the first hour of its release, prompting a record number of sales in a single night for the singer.

“I’m so proud of you, Bradley,” she praised, patting the new patch on his uniform indicating he was now a Lieutenant Commander. She was met with a sweet kiss on the lips.

“Thank you, baby. I’m proud of you too—you’re gonna win everything come awards season.”

During the 2020 Grammy’s, Bradley leaped from the couch in absolute joy when Y/n’s name was called for the winner of Pop Album of the Year and Record of The Year. She missed out on Album of the Year, but that was okay. She was now the owner of 12 Grammys in total. Coming home the following night Y/n’s home was decorated with balloons, a banner reading, ‘Congratulations!!’ and of course, a cake with an edible Grammy topper.

And so it came time for a break. Six albums in a fifteen-year long career, Y/n kept it under the wraps that she wouldn’t be putting out another album for some time. Fans had started to notice she was more uplifted and vibrant in interviews, posting things on social media that were suspicious. For example she uploaded a photo of red roses, captioning it “the symbol of love.” Then there was the screenshotting of well known love songs and posting them on her story.

@ Y/nstansince04: is it me or does @Y/nL/n86 appear happier than usual? Is she hiding something?

@ getawaycarlover_: @Y/nL/n86 totally has a man or someone in her life. That recent Instagram post had all the hints.

@ fearlessdefender: I bet it’s a normal guy she’s with and not a celebrity. If it was we’d probably would’ve known by now who it was.

@ Y/ns_red_lipstick: honestly if Y/n does have a boyfriend then I’m happy for her and wish them the best. She deserves to be happy and we should respect their privacy. She doesn’t have to share with the world if it’s their desire to keep it secret.

Right when the world went to chaos at the brink of a global pandemic, Y/n thought, “you know what, I’m gonna just delete my social media—not my accounts but the apps on my phone. I want to go off the grid for a bit and just enjoy my family and boyfriend.” Not having the constant shadow of social media on her back made it easier for the singer on the break she desired.

Everyday she fell more in love with Bradley. She had been visiting him when quarantine happened so they basically went to the next step in their relationship by living together. Again, it all felt natural. They settled into a domestic life with each other early on with homemade dinners, movie nights, nerf gun wars, and karaoke contests. Bradley on the piano and Y/n with her guitar, being each other’s act and audience in their private concert.

“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain. Too much love drives a man insane. You broke my will, but what a thrill. Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!”

“Romeo take me somewhere we can be alone. I’ll be waiting, all there’s left to do is run. You’ll be the prince and I’ll be the princess. It’s a love story, baby just say, ‘Yes!’”

Late nights were reserved for drives with the speakers blasting. Y/n camera roll would be filled with endless videos of the two, but mostly of Bradley jamming to his favorite songs. More often than usual the thought of, “I’m gonna marry this man,” would cross her mind.

“You ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog. Cryin’ all the time. You ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog. Cryin’ all the time. Well, you ain’t never caught a rabbit and you ain’t no friend of mine!”

Y/n would lean her body out the window when it was a clear road where they were the only ones, hair blowing and the light from the moon shining down on her. Her beautiful voice carried in the night sky, Bradley in absolute awe of her and wanting to capture the moment forever.

“I came home in the mornin’ light—my mother says, ‘when you gonna live your life right?’ Oh momma dear, we’re not the fortunate ones. And girls, they wanna have fun. Oh girls just wanna have fun!”

But was supposed to be maybe two years at most…..ended up being close to five.

Honestly Y/n was surprised to still have fans. To say they were shitting bricks when she out of the blue dropped a cover art for her upcoming single, ‘Love’ would be an understatement. They were losing their fucking minds.

@ Y/nwhereforartthou: IS THIS REALLY HAPPENING OH MY FUCKING SHIT! PLEASE TELL ME THIS AINT A JOKE Y/N IS COMING BACK AFTER FIVE FUCKING YEARS

@ stilladirectionerbby: *insert Micheal Scott gif* OH MY GOD IT’S HAPPENING—Y/N’S RELEASING NEW MUSIC

@ MTV: when all hope was lost, our prayers were answered….by @Y/nL/n86

Then she announced in the same week they were getting not one but two albums that year.

@ themadalorianswife: TWO ALBUMS?!?! WE GETTING TWO?!?! GOD FUCKING BLESS

@ daddyisastateofmind: oh mother is spoiling us after making us wait so long and I absolutely am here for it.

@ neveroutofstyle_: love how @Y/nL/n86 basically said “this is my sorry for falling off the face of the earth, please forgive me.” On behalf of the fandom, we forgive you queen.

And wanna know something else?

What was even more impressive than becoming a ghost for five years with little to no sightings by the paparazzi, was that she and Bradley had yet to be discovered. Her lover was just as good of a ghost as she was. Their secret was like trying to find the Holy Grail.

Hidden like a treasure the world desired to unearth.

And on their six year anniversary, Bradley got them the same cake as the first time he did. The icing reading, "Happy 7 years, baby—we’ve totally got them fooled.”

…………….

TGM Tag list: @avaleineandafryingpan , @caitsymichelle13 , @poppyalice2001 , @cutelittlepotatofry , @luckyladycreator2 , @americaarse , @elenavampire21 , @back-tooo-black , @wildellaa , @artemissunn , @pinkpantheris

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littlexscarletxwitch · 1 year ago

Text

── ༊*·˚⋆ 𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗴𝗮𝗺𝗲

paring: florence pugh x fem!reader

tag(s): fluff, based on endgame by taylor swift (you don't understand how much i'm loving this song), cute gf flo

warning(s): grammatical errors, unedited

word count: 2.2k

note: omg, it's finally here. I'm so sorry it took me sooo long, it just I was super busy. Was this inspire by Ms. Taylor Swift? Yes, yes it was. I really hope you guys like this one. I'm not a native english speaker, so please let me know about any sort of mistake. Love you all so much <3

note 2: guys, I'm currently reading 'Delilah Green doesnt' care' and it's giving me so many ideas for fics. So would any of you be interest in more mum!florence? Please let me know. Xoxo, M

requests are open! + check my rules here + masterlist <3

Your eyes were closed, your head was on her chest listening to her steady heartbeats, a soft smile formed on your lips.

“Promise me this is forever,” you whispered.

You knew she was awake, she was doing the same thing as you, enjoying the moment, living in the present.

Your eyes found hers already looking at you.

“I promise,” she said, her smile mirroring yours.

Her lips found yours as if sealing the promise forever, but nothing ever lasts forever. The kiss that was first sweet and soft and filled with love, turned bitter, harsh and cold. You pulled back confusion written all over your face.

You blink once then twice, and suddenly you were waking up on your bed, alone. You cursed yourself at the stupid memory. It was so pathetic to still think about Florence that way. You two were history, long forgotten, just a memory of your adolescence.

You shook your head, trying to wake up your foggy brain from the nap you had taken. And decided to get some work done as a way to clear your head from your silly old fantasies.

You made yourself a cup of tea, grabbed your notebook and put your headphones on. You only had three more months to finish your second album. The deadline wasn’t much of a concern of yours, what bothered you was the lack of inspiration. Every lyric you would write down was just trash, it was as if you were missing something. So far you had only five finished songs, and you needed ten more to have the album finished.

You were humming, moving your head to the beat as you let your brain come up with the right words, but it felt as if you were stuck.

“I wanna be your endgame,” you sang to the beat. “I wanna be, I wanna be your… ” you threw your head back in annoyance, frustration getting the best out of you.

You had been sitting on the floor for the last hour, trying to finish this one song but you were not even close to it. You took a deep breath trying not to lose your shit. Your phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with a new notification and that took your whole attention.

“Y/n Y/l/n and Drew Starkey spotted out for dinner,” you read out loud and couldn’t help rolling your eyes at the link your manager and best friend had sent you.

According to the news, you were dating both Drew Starkey and Joe Keery. You also almost got engaged the week before to Rudy Pankow, but apparently cheated on him with Maya Hawke. You knew better than to actually pay attention to fake news, but you couldn’t help to. After all that was now your life, the life of a startpop in the making, so much for a boring Oxford kid.

Your reputation precedes you, in rumours you were knee-deep. But there was nothing you could do about it. Exhausted from your social life and the poor lack of motivation to do the one thing you loved the most, you decided to go out on a walk, hoping it would help to clear your thoughts about both the fake news and Florence, who you tried to ignore from thinking of. But ever since that dream you found yourself thinking about her more often.

You knew she was as famous as you were, maybe even more. You had to admit to yourself that some nights you found some kind of comfort in her movies, watching her cute pouty face, the one she was most known for.

She was your first love, she taught you how to love, what it was to be loved. Of course it wasn’t easy to forget about her, even after all these years, some part of you still craved her love. It wasn’t that you didn’t love each other when you both decided to go separate ways, it was because things weren’t so simple anymore. You two weren’t just two teenargs in love, you were slowly becoming adults. She had booked roles and you were making your way into the music industry.

And without the two of you knowing you two just drifted apart, the two of you too caught up in your careers. But you loved her, so you decided to let her go, hoping and praying to the universe that maybe she would come back to you one day.

Your thoughts were interrupted as you opened the door to your local cafe and someone bumped into you.

“Sorry, I wasn’t… “ but you stopped cold once you saw the strangers eyes.

“Y/n?” she asked, her voice as soft and raspy as you remembered. “What are you doing here?” a smile formed on her face, as if she was genuinely happy to see you.

You shook your head trying to clear out your mind, was Florence really in front of you? “I, um, I lived here,” you blinked once, twice and she was still there. “Just around the corner,” you added, cursing yourself for being so awkward. “What are you doing here?”

Was this a sign of the universe? Have your prayers been answered?

“Visiting my family,” right her family, you thought. “Well, not just that, I’m also working,” she scratched the back of her neck. “I was actually hoping to see you, too.”

“Really?” that had to mean something, the universe couldn't be messing around with you this cruelly. Right?

“Yeah, I have, um… I have been thinking about you.” she smiled at you and you felt the butterflies in your stomach. “I think we should talk.”

“I, um,” what were you supposed to say? Were you willingly going to agree to spend time with the love of your life as if the two of you were going to be just friends? What was that supposed to mean?

“Yeah, sure. When are you free?” you finally agree.

You mentally checked your schedule, you were supposed to finish your songs but taking a break wouldn’t hurt anybody. Plus, you were going to get your coffee and get back to it right away.

“Um, what about now?”

Shit, you thought. She wasn’t going to give you any time to prepare yourself. Well, you better get into it, rip it off like a band aid.

“Okay, I was going to get a coffee and then we can…”

“Yeah, yeah, take your time. I’m going to find us a table.”

You order your coffee while mentally preparing for the conversation the two of you were going to have. What was she on about? Was it really a big coincidence? Did the universe put her in our path for some reason? You shook your head, you needed to stop thinking about the universe’s way of working for a second.

They handed you your coffee and now you had no more excuses to avoid her, not that you wanted to. Some part of you long to be near her, but you were scared of what this whole thing was about.

“So, um, what’s up with Drew?” she tried to pretend she didn’t care but was actually dying to know if you were actually dating him, not that you noticed it.

“Who?”

“Drew? Starkey?”

“Oh, yeah, Drew,” you chuckled, silly you for forgetting your own friend. “He’s just a friend, a really good friend,” was it your imagination or did she just let out a breath of relief. “What about Ashley?” you asked before taking a sip of your coffee.

She smiled at you, “She’s also a really good friend.”

“So, um…”

“Listen, Y/n…”

The both of you chuckled.

“You go first, Flo”

That nickname. It was stupid because everyone who knew her would call her ‘Flo’, but coming out of your lips felt different. She had missed hearing her name on your lips, she had missed you.

“I’m just going to say it, okay?” you only nodded. “I lied earlier, I’m not here for work or visiting my family. I came here to find you,” your lips parted in disbelief. “Ever since we broke things apart, I had been feeling like something was missing, Y/n. And I recently realised it was you. Well, I saw the article about you getting married and all I could think of was that something wasn’t right.”

“Florence I…”

“No, please let me finish,” she cut you off. “I understand that we are strangers to each other, but I would love to get to know you once again. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, it can be like a fresh start. I just really need you in my life, Y/n. I miss my best friend.”

You took another sip of your coffee, stealing time before giving her an answer. The truth was you already knew what you wanted, you knew it the moment you sat at the table, but you wanted to mess with her just a little bit.

You put your cup down, and finally your eyes found hers, “I would like nothing more.”

[...]

Ever since that day, Florence and you had been spending everyday together. Catching up with each other and going back to old habits.

The more you hang out with her, the more you could feel your old feeling coming back. But you didn’t want to rush things just to ruin them again. But one particular afternoon you couldn't hold back anymore and decided to do something about it.

She had fallen asleep 30 minutes ago, you chuckled as you realised her current state because she had picked out the movie but turns out she was more tired than what she let you see.

You headed to your small studio and decided to get back to the song you were working on before running into Florence. You knew exactly what you wanted to say, having found your new inspiration a few weeks ago.

You pressed play and the music started playing, you already had a few things written down in your notebook you just needed to put all your ideas together.

You were so lost and immersed in finishing the song, going at it back and forth, changing some lyrics, singing some ideas, writing and crossing out some bits, that you didn’t realise someone was watching you just when you were about to finish.

You had already recorded the whole song and were just checking it out when Florence leaned in the frame door.

Florence smiled as she listened to your sweet voice. She wondered who this song was about.

Knew her when I was young, reconnected when we were little bit older

Both sprung, I got issues and chips on both of my shoulders

She didn’t want to get her hopes up.

Reputation precedes me, in rumors, I'm knee-deep

The truth is, it’s easier to ignore it, believe me

She felt her heart shrinking in her chest.

Even when we'd argue, we'd not do it for long

And you understand the good and bad end up in the song

She listened closely to the song as you hummed to it.

For all your beautiful traits and the way you do it with ease

For all my flaws, paranoia, and insecurities

Her heartbeat and body temperature were rising.

I've made mistakes and made some choices, that's hard to deny

After the storm, something was born on the 4th of July

I've passed days without fun, this end game is the one

With four words on the tip of my tongue, I'll never say it

She couldn't take it any longer.

“I like it,” she said, getting closer to where you were sitting. “It’s catchy,” she said, trying to shake her feeling away. That song could be about anyone.

“I feel like something’s missing,” you scrunch your nose.

“Sing the corus to me, please,” she looked at you with her doe eyes and you swear you could have melted in that moment.

You shook your head with a smile on your face and compiled, “I wanna be your endgame, endgame,” you finished singing the chorus. “And then it goes. Big reputation, big reputation. Ooh, you and me, we got big reputations, ah,” you sang, trying to not look at Florence.

“You know, it sounds awfully familiar,” she teased, wanting nothing more than for it to be true.

“And you heard about me, ooh. I got some big enemies,” you kept on going.

“What are you trying to say, Y/n?” she kept on pushing you.

“Big reputation, big reputation. Ooh, you and me would be a big conversation, ah. And I heard about you, ooh. You like the bad ones, too,” you finished, trying to tell her that you were thinking exactly what she was thinking.

She was so close to you now, her knees brushing against yours, sending electricity throughout your body. You could feel her hot breath on your lips.

“I want to…” she didn’t finish her sentence because you were already nodding and she smashed her lips to yours in a second.

You felt as if a wave of cold water was washing over you. Her lips felt both familiar and new at the same time. You felt at home as she wrapped her arm around your waist and her other hand cupped your cheek. You didn’t want to ever stop kissing her, but both you and her needed to breathe so ultimately pulled apart.

She rested her forehead on yours, both of her hands cupping your cheeks, caressing your skin with her fingertips.

“I wanna be your endgame,” you quietly sang to her.

She chuckled before kissing you again and again and again.

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated! <3

-M

#florence pugh #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh x fem reader #florence pugh x y/n #florence pugh x you #florence pugh fluff #florence pugh imagine #littlexscarletxwitch's fic #Spotify #[🎧⊹♡] based on songs i love

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allisonmourning · 8 months ago

Text

🦋ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅🦋

New song this week! However, I first need to give some updates on the Winter Butterfly remake.

Winter Butterfly is turning TEN(!!!!) this year. Originally, I was going to remake this album in celebration. However, things didn't go as planned, so I've decided to cancel the remake.

However, on Winter Butterfly's 10th anniversary (July 3rd), I will be releasing my new album, Phoenix. I will also be posting all of my old music for download. This is around the time that the Spinster remake and the original version will be uploaded to Youtube. So Winter Butterfly will technically still be coming out on the 10 year anniversary, but it'll be a re-release of the 2014 and 2017 versions.

🦋ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅🦋

There's a few reasons the remake didn't work out. The short explanation is

(1) Producing/Mixing/Uploading Phoenix took all my time.

(2) Phoenix still isn't done. I want to use Rin on the Spinster remake, and I'm hoping I'll be able to afford her soon. Additionally, the other remake on Phoenix had a lot of key changes, so the guitar part took a long time to rewrite. I'm also currently experimenting with Glitch Hero for the drums, which is making the track take longer then usual.

(3) The amount of work Winter Butterfly needs just can't be done in 2 months. Partly because:

(4) Winter Butterfly has 2 track listings. One from 2014 and one from 2017. In 2017, I didn't want to release the same exact same album a second time. So I decided to take out all the slow songs that I (at the time) thought were boring and replaced them with newer songs that were a little more musically matured. With the exception of Trash lol. So if I were to release a "full" version of Winter Butterfly, the album would become a slog because of the over-representation of slow songs.

The other reason Winter Butterfly can't be done in 2 months is because

(5) Winter Butterfly isn't very cohesive. Hear Me/Epitaph are thematically consistent with My Suicide. Imogen is part of a series with Amnesia, Can't Let You Go, and Eternity. Sacrifice and Forgetting Me belong with Rivalry/Lies and Riverbanks/Decereus' Aria. Words Elude Me/The Meadow and Sarah Ann's Lullaby belong with To Save Him.

(6) I'm at a point where I kind of just want to move on. My plans in 2020 included remaking my old stuff one last time and finally putting those songs to rest. When I decided to come back to being a vocalo-p, my first instinct was to pick up where I left off. Especially since Winter Butterfly is turning 10 this year and I wanted to do some kind of 10 year edition. But when I started working on it, I was just overwhelmed.

So many songs on this album are divorced from their context. While recreating Sacrifice, for example, I found the songs that Sacrifice was created from: The Mystery Girl and the Kitten, Requiem, Opitus, and Family Secrets. Rather than put Sacrifice back into a Winter Butterfly remake, I think it would be more fulfilling to put it back into its original context, rather than release it with songs like Hear Me/Epitaph, The Bottom of the Lake, or Haunt Me.

Additionally, I turned 30 last October. The oldest lyrics on Winter Butterfly, The Bottom of the Lake, were written when I was 14. That's more than half my life ago! The earliest songs from this album (Sarah Ann's Lullaby, Forgetting Me, Sacrifice) have lyrics that were written when I was 18 and music that was written when I was 19.

From this point onward, I think I'm going to focus on new music. I'll probably integrate some remakes into future albums (like I'm doing with Spinster and the other unannounced song). But some songs need to be fully re-contextualized. Other songs just need to be completely broken down and their parts re-used.

If anyone was looking forward to this release, I'm sorry it ended up not working out. I hope the release of Phoenix and the upload of my discography will make up for it 🖤🖤🖤

🦋ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ॱ🖤ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅🦋

To anyone who's read this far: THANK YOU. I know that was a lot of text. Now here's some info on the song I'll be releasing on Friday :)

The Forbidden Fruit started out as a song called Whore. It took a lot of influence from symphonic and gothic metal artists who've incorporated Latin choirs, like Epica, Within Temptation, Evanescence, and Theatre of Tragedy. The Theatre of Tragedy song doesn't have a choir, but it still illustrates how ubiquitous Latin is in gothic metal.

The Lady Parsec demo of Whore was first shared on Youtube in 2018. The first demo vocalist was Miku, then it was changed to Cyber Diva. When I was researching Latin phrases, I accidentally used a fraternity's motto, leading to a necessity in replacing the Latin lyrics OTL

This year (2024), the lyrics were entirely rewritten to be more metaphorical and to utilize the characters/motifs that I've been introducing since my rebrand.

Lyrically, The Forbidden Fruit draws on many songs I've released in the past. Every day this week, I'll be uploading a demo that's either referenced in or a thematic precursor to The Forbidden Fruit. Since this is a post related to Winter Butterfly, the first demo I'll be sharing is the Winter Butterfly 2017 version of Blood and Wine.

🦋ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅ॱ🖤ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅🦋

#🎵#Blood and Wine #2017 #Prima #Megurine Luka #Megurine Luka V4 #Winter Butterfly 2017 #Grey Skies

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ladycharles · 4 months ago

Text

Oh Boy track by track part 4

Cherry Chapstick (long read sorry)

No disco adaptation of Hamlet would be complete without a disco dance duet, and in this case it's Uncle Arvin (Polonius) and the father who do a Saturday Night Fever style routine tinged with jealousy and contempt.

More than any piece this one made sense to really lean on the disco cliches, and I thought the vibes called for the most hated disco of all: aging white rocker disco. And so Rod Stewart's Do Ya Think I'm Sexy became the key muse. No lie though, Rod Stewart absolutely fucks on this one.

I created a synth-string melody that recalled it or Abba's Man After Midnight, then set about laying down some disco guitars and building an arrangement. It was very difficult and much more fussy than the rest of the album, since essentially I was composing to a rigid set of rules with no particular creative spark.

My friend Emma came by to collaborate since I was hitting a wall and we threw some ideas around. What appealed to us both was to take the basic 'boy meets girl, do they like each other, yes they do' narrative and transpose it onto something a bit gayer.

And so the song became a sort of response to Katy Perry's I Kissed a Girl - in this case it's the firmly Lesbian character who is unsure if the friend she's fooling around with actually wants her or just wants to experiment.

I was really hoping that Emma would sing most of it, both because she's a great singer and because I am observed at all times by a number of insufferable TERFs who would absolutely hate me singing as a lesbian character.

Emma is, however, a complex person with a tendency to disappear for long stretches and unfortunately she did so right after we had drafted the lyrics and recorded some preliminary takes.

From there on the song really defeated me. The key was too high, I must have done a hundred takes in a shaky falsetto before finally rewriting the melody. I found that the more I fussed over the song the more its threads unravelled, and eventually it was such an unwieldly mess of issues that I threw my hands up and admitted defeat. I would put it out, but it wouldn't be polished like I wanted.

Well as it turns out because this song was the last one finished and took forever, Erin was unable to mix it having just had an amazing family milestone, and I ended up getting in touch with another great producer to mix the last tracks, this and Hands.

Mark Plati was the bandleader and guitarist for David Bowie back in 2003 when I saw him perform in Toronto. He produced Earthling, a searing industrial dance record that established the 50 year old Bowie as someone who still had tricks up his sleeves.

He was amazing to work with, but the thing with professionals, especially in that generation, is that they are direct and honest...

And he called out the utter mess that was Cherry Chapstick, absolutely read it like tea leaves. Though my confidence had bottomed out, that lit a fire in me to load up that project and finally kick its ass rather than letting it kick mine. I redid my vocals (some were embarrassingly off to the point I can't believe I sent them to fucking Mark Plati) but I put every ounce of strength I had into my breath, control and phrasing and finally had something to be proud of.

His mix found the pulsing 4/4 backbeat that was buried in my rough mix, and was the finishing touch to turn it into the disco song it very nearly failed to be.

#indie rock #glam rock #disco #disco rock #indie disco #lady charles #nonbinary #genderfluid #nonbinary musicians #spotify #david bowie #Mark Plati #Rod Stewart #Abba #Do Ya Think I'm Sexy #gimme gimme gimme

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im-tempted · 1 year ago

Note

The Black Parade is a rock opera concept album written by American rock band My Chemical Romance. It follows the story of a young, ex military, terminal cancer patient as he reckons with his life, death, and the impact his life really had. Many people like to rearrange the song order of the album to tell the story, however I think the order of all of the tracks in Black Parade are where they’re meant to be. MyChem’s other albums tell a cohesive story within their designated track orders and never need to be swapped around so I personally follow that rule as well when it comes to Black Parade.

Of course we start with The End narrating, rather sarcastically, the current situation of our protagonist. The End and Dead! are two tracks in this album that are the definition of DO NOT SEPARATE.

Generally I see The End and Dead! as the big opener,This Is How I Disappear as anger The Sharpest Lives as reckless self indulgence/destruction, Welcome to the Black Parade as a reflection in a moment of clarity almost like a broken promise the patient never wanted to break, I Don’t Love You is the patient speaking to his partner possibly trying to convince them to give up loving him because he's a dead man already.

House of Wolves is the religious guilt/anger of realizing that all the actions he took serving his country and how he lived his life were damning and not saving, while Welcome to the Black Parade is a hopeful look on the afterlife, House of Wolves is a negative. “Heaven” vs “Hell” maybe.

Cancer is pretty self explanatory, patient speaking to his loved ones nearing his end. Mama is A Lot. It’s a confession of sin from the war (this and blood and dead are where the military context comes from as well as the social political climate of when the album was released) it's a confession of sin in the personal life as well. “You should have raised a baby girl I could have been a better son” can take on a few meanings all of which are up for interpretation. Sleep is a sobering realization. It’s devoid of anger or passion or anything, like a quiet defeat.The opening tape recording is of Gerard describing to their therapist the nightmares they had while staying in a haunted house to write this album with his bandmates.

Teenagers I have not enough to say regarding the overall story but a banger. Disenchanted is in the title, it's the final result and reflection of the patient’s life. No matter what he did it was always going to end up this way. Nothing he could have done would have changed it.

Famous Last Words is an interesting one. Gerard originally wrote it for their brother Mikey, who was taking a short break from the band during the writing process to deal with various mental health going ons at the moment. When he returned and heard the song he asked for it (AND DISENCHANTED!) to be on the album. It fits thematically, and adds a hopeful note to the end of a tragedy.

THESE ARE MY INTERPRETATIONS I WOULD LOVE TO HEAR YOUR OWN IF YOU'VE GOT ANY. ABSOLUTELY AMAZING ALBUM

this became so much longer than i thought it would i am so sorry

ok finally have the time to sit down and respond to this idk how long this will get i have thoughts(tm) if theirs one thing I'm always thinking about it's death and SPECIFICALLY terminal illness which as someone who's actually had that will probably wildly influence my reading of the album (I know shock to everyone I've never been to war) as well as my big feelings about medical things in general (this album was made in a lab about me actually)

overarching it's always interesting to see stories where death is not only expected but something actively being waited for I feel like everyone and their mother knows they're going to die to the point it's joked about but I don't think many people actually understand that as someone who had to metaphorically stare down the barrel of a gun from birth it's always interesting to see others express that feeling of not quite apathy that I've always felt but the moment you stop trying to claw your way away from death and when you start just living with it always over you shoulder

anyways back to the actual album

there's something so visceral about giving your body to your country and having it not be able to save you back of sacrificing your safety for you to come back home just to die of something no one can save you from there is no atonement in death of chance you went somewhere and you hurt a lot of people and you come back and don't even have the chance to die of it you die of chance like all the others like people who weren't broken for a cause who didn't shape themselves into a weapon to serve

they say that they don't feel bad for the blood on their hands and should they? for getting sucked into the largest propaganda campaign for trying their best for being in the wrong place at the wrong time a dying man can feel no guilt at some point it's just to late there is no point in feeling bad for what brought you somewhere when you simply don't have time

I think this album is also particularly interesting when the singer is explicitly talking to others (like in mama) 'cuz even though the POV person seems to have come to terms with what they've done it's interesting to one of the hardest parts of dying is trying to explain to anyone else you are because no one will actually believe you I don't have to many thoughts on that right now but I just think that's a part of dying people don't talk about is when you've come to terms with it and no one else has

OVERALL I will be thinking about this album probably for a while and this isn't even close to all of my thoughts but I have so many posts I can make in the future so there's always that This one got a tad away from me I can talk about each song on it's own later if you want but for right now I think all the time about what it's like for someone to come to terms with the fact they are dying and what they had to make themselves to get there (< is so normal about this and hasn't based their whole life around it for almost two decades)

GREAT SONGS

#as I said this got away from me #and you should be grateful/j #love to hear your thoughts please ask me anything I love it so much #album of all time #stickers #adam fucking around #tw medical

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ghost-of-you · 1 year ago

Text

we just danced backwards into each other - ch - part 8

Paring: Calum Hood x Original Female Character.

Warnings: Swearing, mildly angsty vibes.

Word Count: 8k

Authors note: sorry this one took so long, i got stuck on a scene here and nothing i wrote about it was working, but finally got it and things started flowing a lot better, i actually already have a good chunk of the next part written, so hopefully ill update soon

Read it on AO3

Part 7 Part 9

Masterlist

_______

Lena smiles from her place on the floor when Calum greets her, fixing the last of the cables, before scrambling to her feet and out of the booth. She had asked him to meet her in the studio with little notice so even though he told her he'd be there, she's excited to see him.

“I had an idea,” she says, bouncing on her feet as she stops in front of him, looking up at him expectantly, making him chuckle.

"Okay?”

"You know how we agree that voice note is like, the best version of the song?" She asks, waiting for him to agree before continuing, "what if we did the song as a live take? I can clean it and mix it and if it sounds good we go with it, if it doesn’t we’ll try something else."

“Sounds like a plan,” he nods and she grins at him.

“So you’re in?”

“It’s your song,” he laughs and she frowns at him.

“Come on, it’s ours,” she playfully shoves his shoulder making him chuckle, “I just thought that like this it would stay, you know, ours,” she shrugs, turning around to get her notebook in her backpack.

“Is that why we’re alone?” He asks, sounding confused as he sits in one of the chairs next to the board.

“I am qualified, you know?" She shrugs, sitting next to him. It wasn't easy to get her team to allow this to happen, but she had worked as an engineer for herself on other tracks of the album, so there wasn't a real excuse to not let her do it for this one. "There's a catch though, they need to be on while we record," she says, pointing through the glass into the booth to the 2 cameras set up around the piano, "and if you don't want that we can figure something-" she trails off as he looks at her, an amused glint in his eyes.

“Are you nervous?” He teases and she looks at him in disbelief.

“Yeah? I only ever did this for myself, having someone else in the studio is intimidating."

“It’s just me,” he chuckles and she rolls her eyes.

“Shut up, do you know how many number-one albums you have? Right now you’re not the boy who used to copy my math homework," she complains, running her hands through her hair and he laughs.

"The boy who copied your math homework? That's all I am?"

"Oh, yeah, absolutely, just the kid that sat behind me."

“Love,” he says, tilting his head and she can tell he can see she’s spiraling.

“I want this to work,” she tells him, glancing at the controls, before dropping her head, “I need this to work."

"It's gonna work. Are you done setting up?"

"Yeah," she nods, and he grabs her hand, pulling her up.

"Okay, come on," he says, moving them to the booth.

“Sit down,” Calum says, patting the seat beside him and she narrows her eyes at him.

“Why?”

“I’m teaching you the song,” he says, reaching for her hand and pulling her towards him, and she rolls her eyes, sitting down.

“You know can’t play that.”

“Nonsense.”

“I really can’t.”

“Just trust me.”

“Me trusting you doesn’t change the fact I can’t play the piano.”

"Can you hit a key on the right tempo?"

“I can’t make any guarantees,” she laughs, hitting some random notes just prove her point.

“I believe in you,” he teases, and she sighs, looking at her hands before looking back at him.

“Okay, let’s do this.”

Lena didn't plan on making that noise into the microphone. She didn't plan on making that noise at all. Given the way it had echoed through the arena, calling it a squeal didn't feel big enough. A shriek? A flat-out scream? All she knew is that every eye in the area around the stage and the soundboard was on her and Sylvia was looking at her fondly annoyed.

"Sorry, everyone," she apologized into the mic, making a point of keeping her voice as soft as she could through the excitement coursing through her veins, backing away from it at the same time she met Calum's questioning eyes as he moved closer to the stage from the floor.

He'd been watching her soundcheck lately. It sometimes made her wonder if he knew her songs were all about feelings she had about him. When he'd ask her to sing a song she hadn't thought about in a while, the ones that are bubbly and fun and so painfully hopeful and that she was always surprised to find out he even knew. She'd always sing them though, fumbling through notes on the ones she hadn't played in a while just because it seemed to make him happy.

It actually took a lot of effort for her not to just jump off the stage into his arms once he got close enough for her to do it. So she settled on sitting on the edge reaching a hand out for him and he had barely finished helping her down before she was throwing her arms around his neck.

"What happened?" He laughed, the hands he still had on her waist moving to wrap around her.

"I just got nominated for best new artist," she said, hiding her face in his neck and moving to step away from him but he kept his arm around her, locking her in place, smiling widely at her.

"Okay, that noise makes sense now," he teased and she pouted, "congratulations, love," he added.

"Thanks," she grinned, moving to hug him again before stepping back. This time he let her go but grabbed her hand dragging her with him around the arena before she could question what he was doing. Not that she thought really hard about questioning. She was done with soundcheck, and they needed to clear the area for the band's soundcheck with the fans anyway.

When he pushed a door open and pulled her inside a room, she was tempted to ask though. She didn't have to, he was pressing her against the door he'd just closed, lips finding hers before she even began to form a question.

Lena would like to say she was used to what it felt like to kiss Calum. She would also be lying. But now she was allowed to kiss him, most times it was more soothing than dizzying.

But then, sometimes, he'd surprise her like that and she'd forget that she needed oxygen. Hell, she'd forget her own name. His lips on hers and his hands digging into her waist and his hair under her fingers and the thundering noise her heart made were the only thing that existed.

Calum was the one that pulled away. Maybe pulled away was an exaggeration. He was still very much in her space, forehead against hers as she gasped for the air he stole from around her.

"I'll take it you're proud of me," she laughed, still feeling breathless.

"We're celebrating."

"It's just a nomination," she giggled but he shook his head.

"It's your first nomination, love, we're celebrating."

"When you say celebrating," she trailed off when he moved to kiss a path across her jaw and down her neck.

"I mean, partying,” Calum said the words to her skin, hands sneaking under her shirt, “and then taking advantage of the way there's no show tomorrow and a hotel room with my name on it."

"I like the way you think, Hood,” she said, a little breathless, as his hands moved higher, “but you need to chill out because I'm not letting you fuck me in a supply closet in a venue," she pulled back, turning them so he would be the one against the door, but stepping back from him, and he smirks at her, a knowing look that made her cheeks burn, "that was one time! And it was an office, not a closet," she complained as he pulled her back to him with a laugh.

"Does it change anything?" He asked, lips pressed to her neck and she giggled.

"For starters, clean surfaces, and you know, a door that locked."

"I'm pretty sure this door also locks," he chuckled, feeling around the door until the lock clicked.

"That's not the point." She got cut off when he kissed her again, more insistent this time and it was hard to think while his hands moved on her. "Nope, not happening, also you need to go to your soundcheck," she moved a hand to his chest, and he pouted at her as she felt around for the lock, “but I’ll make it up to you tonight,” she punctuated her words with a kiss to his cheek while she pushed the door open.

"Why did we never write together before?" Lena asks, turning to look at him. They've done a few takes and she thinks she has enough to work with, but the thought of moving away from the bench is incredibly unappealing. So she's stalling.

"We never talked about it," Calum shrugs and she pouts.

"Why?"

"I don't know, why did you never bring it up?"

"Because I was writing about you and I thought it would be awkward," she deadpans, startling a laugh out of him, "but hey, we're good together, the song is good, so like, why have we never done this before?" She asks again and he watches her for a second before answering.

"It just never seemed like a good moment to ask."

"Why?"

"We never got around to it when we were in school and the only other time it could've happened was on tour and-" he cuts himself, making her frown.

"What?"

"Honestly? I think it was gonna make us talk about what it all meant."

"And that would definitely be awkward."

"But, if you're up for it, we can do it again, I know you write with Luke so, maybe," he shrugs and she smiles at him.

"Well, my album is done and from what Luke told me so is yours, so maybe we can revisit this conversation when we start working on the next one, or if any of us has an idea that could work," she offers and he nods.

"Deal."

"Okay, I'm pretty sure I have all I need, so we should get out of here," Lena says after a beat of silence, getting up from the bench.

"Wait, I got you something," Calum says, pulling a jewelry box from his pocket and she frowns at him.

"Why?" She asks, eyeing the box as she takes it.

"You keep reaching for your neck," he shrugs as she opens it and pulls the necklace there out so she could look at it. It's a little silver sun, the shape kind of looks like the one from Tangled and she smiles at how detailed the charm is for something so small.

"Why a sun?" She asks, still studying the charm, somewhat fascinated about the way the little gems in it catch the light when she moves it.

"It made me think of you." The way he says it makes her focus shift to him, watching his face, unsure of how to feel.

"Thank you," she breathes, still looking at him as he smiles at her, "can you?" She asks, handing him the necklace and turning around, moving her hair out of the way for him to put it on for her, smiling down at it before turning back to him.

"Does this mean I need to get you a moon or something like that now?" She laughs, reaching for his necklace hanging on the front of his shirt, her bracelet dangling next to it.

"I don't think we need to match every gift we get each other," he laughs, shaking his head and she scrunches her nose looking at him.

"Well, but you got me this because you don't want me to want the bass," she says and he shrugs.

"It's not like you can play the bass."

"Yes, I can!" She protests and he frowns at her.

"Since when?"

"My second album? I'm playing the bass in like, half the tracks."

"You are?" His face softens, sounding surprised and a little bit impressed and she huffs.

"Don't sound so surprised, I'm not as good as you are but it's not like I'm playing anything particularly elaborate."

"When did you even?"

"It was during this wave of stuff I did while trying to distract myself after, the bass was adjacent enough to the guitar that I didn't absolutely suck at the first try so I stuck with it? But I tried a bunch of shit, I tried painting and playing random instruments, I went to a pottery class once, that sucked, calligraphy, crochet, knitting, sewing, it was crazy."

"When did you even sleep?"

"I had trouble sleeping while I was working on that album, so I was keeping occupied, it was better than tossing and turning, it made me feel productive," she shrugs, chewing on her bottom lip.

"Love," Calum starts, but he seems unsure of what to say and she shakes her head.

"Hey, you know how bad I am at sleeping, it's fine."

"You know, Andy told me you put yourself in the hospital back then, kinda hard to believe it was fine," he says, raising an eyebrow at her and she groans

"He makes that sound so much worse than it was."

"Did you pass out on campus?"

"Yeah."

"Did you spend the night at the hospital?"

"Yeah."

"Then I think it was bad, love," he chuckles and she rolls her eyes.

"It's not like I dropped in the middle of the street, I was in the health center."

"Not the defense you think it is.”

"Okay, it wasn't fine, but it wasn't as bad as it looked, that was just a bad week, and now I can play more instruments, I know I suck at crafting, and I'm decent at painting, it's fine," she says, motioning vaguely around her and he laughs.

"If you say so."

"I do say so, now let's go face the photographers that are definitely out there and just get out of here already."

_______

Lena had somehow seen Calum every day for the past two weeks. Mostly not on purpose, the little encounters were never planned. They were also way too short, leaving her feeling the need to see more of him. They text every day too. Nothing like they used to when they were teens, when they would spend most of the day together in school and then text the rest of it because they somehow never ran out of things to say to each other, but still enough to make her wait for the notifications to come.

If she decides to be completely honest about it, she doesn't like the feeling. And she doesn't like that she doesn't like it. She hates it, actually. She hates that she can't get out of her own head for long enough to just… relax. That her anxious brain keeps telling her overly excited heart to calm down. To back off. To stop doing this hopeful little dance every time her phone rings. But it's not like she can make it stop. Old habits die hard and all that. And apparently in all ways because she can't help her feelings any more than she can't stop fighting against them. Leaving her playing an exhausting game of tug of war with herself.

She doesn’t even know what she’s overthinking, because she doesn't know what she wants from Calum. For a long time, she didn't really know anything when it came to him. And now she doesn't know what to believe, so she doesn't know how to feel. When he's right there it's easy for her not to think about all the bad things, it’s as easy as it always was. But then she's alone. And then she’s spiraling.

"L, are you even listening?" Michael's voice came followed by a poke in her ribs, that made her squeak and drop her pen, before looking up from her homework to him, green eyes glowing with a familiar mischief that made her laugh.

"Sorry, what did Cal do? I wasn't paying attention," she asked, closing her notebook and leaning back into the chair, her elbow on Calum's desk, watching as Michael's grin got wilder as he leaned against the desk beside hers and Calum let out an exasperated groan.

"He has a date," he explained and Lena's eyes widened. She couldn't exactly say that was completely unexpected, he had talked about a girl he was interested in. Not to her all that much though, so she didn't know everything about the situation. But the information made her heart clench.

"What?" She frowned, looking between the boys, Michael's eyes narrowing at her in the few seconds it took for her to realize she didn't sound teasing, she sounded hurt, "someone agreed to go out with you?" She quickly added, teasingly, trying to match the grin on Michael's face as she turned to Calum.

"Not you too," he said, rolling his eyes and she laughed.

"It's just surprising," she said, pressing her lips together while Michael let out a "Right?" that made her laugh.

"I hate you both," he said and she rolled her eyes.

"Don't act like you don't give me hell every time I ask someone out," Michael said, giving him an unimpressed look that made Lena giggle.

"You do fall in love like every other week, dude," she said but Michael shook his head.

"This isn't about me, it's about him," he pointed at Calum who dropped his head to his desk with a groan, but before anyone could say anything else, their teacher walked in, making Michael scramble to go sit.

"You know we're just teasing, right?" She whispered, leaning her chin on her arm still on Calum's desk and he nodded at her, before leaning down to get his notebook and she turned forward, reopening hers, and staring blankly at the board, twirling a pen between her fingers.

Why did the thought of Calum on a date with someone make her upset? Both of them had spent years going on about how they were just friends. She shouldn't be upset about it. She loved Calum. She wanted him to be happy.

Wait, she loved him. She loved him? Like loved loved him? She was aware she might have a slight crush on him, how could she not, but was she in love with him? Did the thought of him dating someone else made her feel like that because she wanted him to date her?

"Oh shit," she mumbled under her breath at the same time the pen slipped from her fingers, startling her as it landed somewhere behind her. Her heart was picking up speed as she leaned to the side, looking around the floor for the lost pen and Calum leaned down too, grabbing it next to his foot, sitting up straight while she turned to him when he reached to hand it back to her.

"Thanks," she breathed, taking the pen back and feeling her heart go crazy in her chest when he grinned and winked at her as she was turning back.

So Lena doesn't know how they ended up here. She was on edge, the song was coming out, so she was stressed and this was the last time she was gonna see Calum for who even knows how long because the band was leaving for promo the next day and she was doing promo for their single alone and she's so unbelievably anxious about it, it's making her more sensitive. She knows that. But now she's moving around the building, with Calum trailing behind her, trying to get her to talk to him. It's not his fault, the comment about them being back together was innocent enough, the issue wasn't the comment, but the way Calum turned to look at her, a flash of guilt on his face, that put her right back in that dressing room.

So she doesn't want to talk to him, because she will say something stupid and she knows it's not his fault so it will just be creating an unnecessary fight.

But he's not letting her get away from him.

"I don't want to talk about it, Calum," she tells him again, this time stopping to turn to look at him.

"But you need-"

"No, I don't," she interrupts him, and he frowns.

"Lena."

"When you start talking about it I stop seeing my best friend and I start seeing the guy who walked out on me," she says, taking a step back away from him and he gives her a helpless look, "and I don't want to think about that anymore."

"Doesn't seem like you can stop," he all but rolls his eyes and she groans.

"What? You think that knowing how you felt during that is gonna change anything?"

"Come on, that tour was hell."

"I know, I was there," she does roll her eyes and the frown on his face deepens.

"I was doing what I could."

"And I was trailing behind," she motions vaguely around her, "I know what went down, and I know how you felt because I knew you, but it doesn't matter."

"No, you just think you know," he challenges, stepping closer to her and she huffs.

"Yeah, well, I don't need a detailed explanation on exactly how not enough for you I am."

Lena regrets the words before she finishes saying them. Before Calum steps back away from her like she shoved him. Before the hurt look in his eyes makes her freeze.

But it really kills her as she stays rooted in place watching him walk away from her.

________________

"Andy?" Lena knocks on the door to his room, even though it's the middle of the night, after hearing the telltale sounds of whatever game he's into now that shows her that he's still up.

"Are you finally ready to tell me why you're spiraling?" Andy calls from inside the room and she frowns as she takes that as an invitation to go in.

"Come on," she complains, sitting on the edge of his bed as he turns around in his chair and rolls himself closer to the bed.

"What? You've been like this for weeks,” he says, stopping in front of her, “and you haven't talked to me all day, just tell me maybe I can help."

"I don't know how to explain it," she runs a hand through her hair, dropping back.

"Voice your thoughts, I'm really good at translating you."

"It's…" She trails off, fidgeting with the necklace Calum gave her, fighting to get the words out.

"Le, babe, I promise you, anything that leaves you this stressed it's not stupid," he says, a comforting hand on her knee and she pushes herself up leaning on her elbows so she could look at him.

"It's just…"

"Words, Lena."

"I'm stressed about Calum," she blurts out and he huffs.

"Now tell me the part I don't know."

"I… it's just I can't stop thinking," she says, sitting up and he nods.

"About?"

"He said he's winning me back, and I was enjoying the effort."

"But?"

"When I left,” she pauses when he gives her a pointed look, “when I ran, I said I was done, but I didn't turn it all off, you know? I couldn't. But I also couldn't keep feeling like it was always gonna be like that, all the pining. No, not pining, pining it's too calm, too calm for whatever we had going. I was burning and I was drowning and I was tired, but I still loved him, I still wanted it."

"Okay."

“And I can’t stop thinking about everything that happened between us because I still do, you know? I still love him, and I want it so badly. I want things to work out, I want the stupid story of us finding a way back, I'd be lying if I say I don't, but I’m also scared."

"Of?" Andy asks after she doesn't continue and she sighs.

"That he doesn't really want me. That he’s just enjoying the chase, and there's too much fucked up shit in the middle for us to ever be okay again and when we agreed on the whole thing, I said he can't kiss me."

"Yeah."

"Because he has this effect that gives me tunnel vision and makes me only see what he wants," she trails off, fidgeting with the edge of her shirt and he chuckles.

"Oh, I know, but you're spiraling, why exactly?" He asks and she looks at him, chewing on her bottom lip while she contemplates how to say it.

"I'm scared I'm the one who's just enjoying the chase," she admits and he frowns, tilting his head to the side.

"What do you mean?"

"All I ever wanted was for him to try, and he's trying, I basically forced the man to take me out so I could see what it would be like."

"Didn't he say he wanted to fix things?"

"Yeah, but what if we're beyond fixing?"

"L, wait," Michael said, turning the car off when she reached for her shoes, and she sighed, unbuckling the seatbelt. Lena was feeling hazy, definitely still drunk, but the cool night air had cleared her head enough to know what Michael was going to say.

"Mike, please don't," she pleaded, mechanically putting her shoes on as she avoided the way she could feel his eyes on her.

"What?

"Defend him," she sighed, finally turning to look at him. He had a very familiar look on his face. The ride-or-die type look that let everyone know that he'd take Calum's side no matter what. Michael had perfected it over the years but it always had the I-need-to-stand-by-him glint that she found staring back at her.

"But you gotta know," he started, but she shook her head.

"I respect that you wanna do something, I do, but don't do it."

"But he's," he tried again but she interrupted him again.

"Look, I don't wanna know that you think he looks miserable without me, or however the hell you were about to put it. Did he tell you that? Did he even tell you what happened between us? Or did he just say we had a fight and told you to drop it?"

"He didn't, but I know he is, he really fucking misses you, L," he tried to argue and Lena wanted to believe him. Desperately. But she couldn't.

"Look, dude, I gotta work with what I know. The facts here are he walked out on me and that he hasn't tried to talk to me since then, so anything else is not enough," she shrugged and he gave her a disbelief look.

"So you just got in a screaming match at a party over not enough?"

"Yeah, and he still had nothing to say."

"You know how he can get."

"Oh, I do," she said, rolling her eyes but Michael kept talking.

"And you always forgive him."

"It fucking sucks that I have to," she complained, running a hand through her hair.

"You're not exactly perfect either, L," he said, raising an eyebrow at her and she frowned at him.

"Never said I was, but this one is on him, it's only on him, it's why he doesn't have the guts to try to fix it."

"What the fuck did he do?" He asked and she groaned.

"I don't wanna talk to you about it, Michael."

"I'm your friend too, Lena," he matched her tone, rolling his eyes at her and she sighed.

"But you would let him get away with anything."

"So would you."

"I can't do it this time, he really hurt me, okay? It wasn't some stupid argument that we both knew wasn't gonna last, he knew the choice he was making and he did it anyway and I'm allowed to be mad at him," she said, looking down, twisting her hands in her lap.

"I'm not saying you're not allowed to be mad, I'm saying you're both miserable without each other, so why are you dragging this out?" He asked and it made her pout.

"Who said I'm miserable?" Lena complained, glancing at him and she probably wasn't helping her point if the way Michael raised an eyebrow at her was any indication.

"Your face."

"That's-"

"We both know you're still in love with him," he said and her eyes widened as her head snapped up and she turned to look at him.

"Who said I'm in love with him?" She tried but Michael scoffed.

"Don't act like I don't know you, you've been in love with him since we were in school, it's painfully obvious."

"I… You knew? Since when?"

"Since he left for that football camp, you were a basketcase while he was gone."

"It wasn't that bad."

"Oh, it was worse, I thought you would tell him back then."

"I did," she said, holding Michael's gaze as his face turned into shock. She could see it in the way his eyes went from wide to narrowing on her face that he was combing through his memories trying to figure out when it could've happened. And she didn't want him to ask, "well, it doesn't matter anymore."

"Now you're just being stubborn."

"So?"

"Talk to him, do something other than sitting around since you’re both miserable and this can’t keep going-"

"Mike!” she screeched, interrupting him, "He dumped me, he doesn't love me and I can't make him love me so I can't fix it."

"What do you mean he doesn't love you? Of course he loves you," he was looking at her like she was crazy for even suggesting that and it made her want to disappear into the leather seats.

"His words okay?" Her voice was small and Michael looked so confused by it that she felt on the verge of tears, "so now I'm just the idiot that’s been in love with him since middle school."

"L," Michael's voice was soft now, and he was watching her carefully, eyes scanning her face as she continued to talk.

"Being away from him is killing me, but I can't. I can’t move on from him if he's still around, and I can't fix us so I can't talk to him."

"Why?"

"Because if I'm not mad at him, then I'm breaking and I can't take it anymore." She paused, blinking back tears, "thank you for the ride, Mike, I know I'm not much company right now but I did miss you and I appreciate it."

"Lena."

"I'll see you around," She said, patting his knee before slipping out of the car. She was surprised to hear his door slamming after hers.

"Lena," Michael's voice was insistent and it made her stop on the sidewalk watching as he walked around the car.

"Yeah?" She asked, frowning at him as he scanned her face.

"Just come here," he said, pulling her to his chest, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and she wrapped her arms around his waist on instinct. She missed Michael, that wasn't a lie, they may not be as close to each other as they were to Calum, but he was a constant enough presence in her life to add to the emptiness Calum had left behind. But the way she just relaxed against him was disarming, "sorry I haven't checked in," he said to her hair and she huffed out a chuckle, stepping back from him.

"It's fine, I knew he would get you in the divorce."

"You don't have to tell me what he did, but how bad was it?"

"How many times have you seen me trying to get away from him?" She asked because she didn't think she could talk about it without crying. She wasn't sure she wouldn't start crying anyway.

"Point taken."

"Look, I can't talk about it because I can't think about it because I don't want to believe it happened, I thought we were more than we actually were and that's on me but he was just," she stopped, sniffing through the tears that were falling without her permission, "there were kinder ways to do what he did and I can't move past it."

"Sorry I pushed it."

"It's fine, you know how stubborn we both can get, you had no way of knowing this wasn't just us being stubborn."

"For whatever is worth, I do think he regrets it."

"Well, he's the one that needs to do something about it,’ she shrugged and Michael gave her a sad smile, "sorry you got caught in the middle."

"I'm your friend too, you know?"

"Do you feel that way?"

"I don’t know, I'm not known for making good decisions when he's involved. So I freaked out and I picked a fight with him because he was about to leave. And I know it’s just a few days but at the same time I couldn’t deal with the way I need him around and he’s all the way across the world now and I don’t know what to do, because,” she sniffs, looking up to try and stop the tears she can feel forming in her eyes, “what if this is just going to explode in our faces again and I'm dragging it out because of a memory of a feeling?"

"Is it just a memory?"

"What?"

"When you think about it, are you just trying to find the way he made you feel again, or are you just trying to find a way to feel what you feel for him without letting it destroy you?" Andy asks and she blinks at him, taken aback for a second.

"That was deep, we should write that down," she jokes because she doesn't know how to answer.

"I'm serious, I've picked you up from the floor over him for years now and it's alright if you don't want him anymore, but it's also okay for you to want him but only after you're sure you're not setting yourself up for failure."

"What are you saying?"

"That it's okay if you need safety before giving in and that doesn't mean you're using him, it just means you're hurt and want to know what you're falling into."

“But I feel like-”

"Look, I've watched you try to contain the way you feel about him for as long as I've known you, you keep fighting against it or trying to make it something that won't scare him away, and that never worked," he says, tilting his head, and she sighs.

"It's just that, I don't know how to stop and I keep thinking about-"

“Le, the more you overthink this the more you’ll have to overthink and you’re gonna go nowhere.”

“But-”

“You’re not gonna find the answer trapping yourself in your head, you can’t change what happened and you can’t predict what’s going to, you just need to find out if you’re willing to trust he won't hurt you again,” he says and she drops back, throwing her arms across her face.

“But what if I can’t trust myself? I don’t want to hurt him either and right now I don’t think I can help it and his face when he walked away from me, I-”

“Lena," he says, and she feels the mattress dip when he sits beside her, moving her arms from her face so she would have to look at him, "if whatever you said makes him stop trying then you guys are going nowhere anyway.”

"What do I do then?" She asks, throwing her arms over her head and he huffs, poking her side.

“You stop hiding and you call him."

“Call him? I can’t call him,” she squirms away from his hand, looking at him like he's crazy for suggesting that, and he gives her an unimpressed look.

“Knowing you, you won’t be able to do anything until you find out if you pushed him too far. Did you even sleep last night?"

“But I have to, I can’t need him, And.”

“You also can’t change the fact that you already do. You've been fighting it for years, Le." His voice is sympathetic and she feels herself start to tear up as she meets his eyes. “Just call him."

_________

The periodic buzzing is not what makes Calum raise his head. What makes him raise his head is how he can feel Luke's eyes on him every time the damn phone does buzz. So when it happens again he meets Luke's careful gaze with a questioning look.

"That's Lena." It's not a question. But Luke nods anyway. Lena hadn't talked to him since the fight and he was following her lead with it. If she wants space he'll give it to her. It's actually easier than he expected with half a world between them and unaligned timezones. At least that's what he keeps telling himself.

"She wants me to let her know when we're back at the hotel." They only have another interview in their schedule, the one they are currently waiting for, so it shouldn't be long, but why would Lena ask? And what else did she say that got Luke watching him like that?

"Okay, what does this have to do with me?" He asks, raising an eyebrow and Luke frowns at him.

"Did you get into a fight or something?"

"Or something."

"Do you want me not to tell her?" Luke puts his phone down, a silent we can talk about it if you want, but he shakes his head.

"No, it's okay."

"You sure?" He checks, but Calum doesn't get a chance to answer, because they are being called to the studio and he can't keep thinking about it.

Maybe she's ready to try to talk to him. If she's even asking because she wants to know when he can answer. He tries to ignore that line of thought until they’ve been back at the hotel for at least half an hour and there’s no call.

But then his phone lights up with a very familiar picture of Lena and him.

"Hello?"

"Hi," Lena sounds anxious, he can hear it in her breathing and something about it makes him do the math in his head about what time it's for her.

"Lena, where are you?" He can imagine the way she's frowning just by the confused little gasp she lets out.

"Home, where else would I be?"

"Isn't it, like, 3 am for you?"

"Time is fake," she mumbles, and he hears fabric ruffling in the background, so maybe she is in bed. Not that the thought makes him worry less.

"Sure," he frowns and she sighs.

"I couldn't sleep, I needed to apologize."

"Okay."

"Because I am sorry, I… I don't have an excuse, I'm just sorry."

"Lena," he says, more to buy himself time to think of the right thing to say than anything else but the sharp intake of breath he hears makes him regret it.

"You don't have to say anything, it's fine, I just wanted to say it, we can talk when you get back. Or whenever you want. Shit, you know, I shouldn't have called, I'm sorry." Her voice is wobbly and it sounds like she’s about to hang up.

"Lena, wait."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm about to start crying and then you'll feel the need to make me feel better and this becomes about me and that's not why I called."

"Then why did you call?" He asks, and she sniffs, before taking a deep breath as if she’s trying to calm herself down.

"Can I claim temporary insanity? Sleep deprivation? I don't know, okay? I thought talking to you would make me feel better but that's not on your job so I shouldn't-"

"Lena, can you just listen to me for once in your life?"

"Yeah?"

"You seriously think I'm about to let you cry yourself to sleep?"

"I'm not crying," she tells him and he huffs.

"I can hear you crying."

"I'm just tired and It doesn't-"

"Of course it matters."

"Why?"

"Because I fucking care about you. That doesn't stop being true just because we got into a fight."

"I know that, it's just-"

"Do you? Know it? It doesn't seem like you do,"

"Can I be honest?"

"Please," Calum breathes, waiting for a tense second as she doesn't say anything.

"I talk myself out of it."

"Of trusting me?" He asks, frowning and he can hear the fabric ruffling as she probably shakes her head.

"No, of expecting you to be there." That one stings. He knows he can't blame her for it, it's his own fault, but hearing her saying it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Why?"

"Because I can't need you to be there! For fucks sake we get into one fight and I'm losing my mind? I've been feeling like I can't breathe and I can't do this again."

"Do what?"

"Lose you, Calum, I can't lose you again, but I can't keep feeling this way either I can't focus I can't sleep I feel like a bitch then I just lose my fucking mind and can’t feel this way I can’t need you-" Not for the first time since he last saw her, he catches himself wishing he wasn't halfway across the world, but this time is because the way she's talking, fast and without pauses, makes him think she's about to talk herself into a panic he can't talk her out of over the phone.

"Love, love, breathe," he interrupts, and she takes a few sharp breaths before talking again.

"See, I shouldn't have called, you're allowed to be mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you."

"Why not? You should."

"Why?"

"Because I was a bitch to you."

"It was a fight, and it wasn't even that bad."

"You sounded mad at me when you answered the phone."

"You apologized, we can talk about it when I get back, but I'm not mad, so you should go to sleep and I'll see you in a few days."

"Unfortunately I wasn't exaggerating when I said I can't sleep, I've been tossing and turning for hours."

"You want me to talk to you until you fall asleep?"

The way Lena was slowly blinking and how her reactions were delayed was just as funny as it was adorable even in the dimly lit room. It made the story Calum was telling seem way more entertaining than it actually was, with the way she was trying to keep up while stifling yawns and rubbing her eyes to get him to keep talking.

"Love?" Calum asked when she dropped her head back against the headboard of his bed and it took a few seconds for her to look at him, "do you want me to drive you back to your dorm?" She should've left already since she had classes the next day, so maybe he should just let her leave this time. She looked like she would fall asleep in the car though. And her car was at his place. The logistics of it all weren't good.

"Not yet, we're talking," she mumbled, shifting her whole body while sitting up.

"No, I'm talking, you're legally drunk," he joked, making her pout.

"'m not," she complained, stretching out like a cat and sighing, "how are you not tired?"

"Jetlag," he shrugged and she blinked at him before nodding, staring at him with one eye closed.

"Well, then we keep talking."

"I keep talking, you keep looking at me like you're seeing a giant pillow.”

"You do make a great pillow," she said, looking at him like she was contemplating the possibility, or maybe just thinking about the times she fell asleep on him, making him laugh. "Have you ever been so tired you just don't know how to sleep?" She asked, running a hand through her hair and dropping her head back.

"No,” he chuckled, shaking his head, “and you're trying to stay awake," he pointed out, bopping her nose and she smiled sheepishly at him.

"Yes, but I don't think I would fall asleep that easily right now." He seriously doubted that. He was actually sure she would be out in seconds if she just stopped moving.

"What time do your classes start tomorrow?" He asked, checking the old alarm clock on the table. Technically he should've said today. It was past 1 am. Maybe he shouldn't keep her awake that long on a weekday.

"Not until the afternoon," she said, sliding down and hugging the pillow under her head.

"You wanna stay over? We can continue this conversation in the morning when I know you'll remember what I'm telling you.”

"Does that mean you won't be mad if I fall asleep?"

"Do you want to sleep?"

"I just told you don't know how," she laughed, settling more heavily against the pillow and rubbing her eye.

"Alright, come here," he said, scooting down and opening his arms and she shuffled around before settling with her head on his shoulder and an arm across his chest.

"I missed you," she mumbled, closing her eyes and he started to absentmindedly run his fingers through her hair.

"Yeah, me too,” he said, leaning his cheek against her head, “now go to sleep."

"I can't fall asleep on command like you do, just keep telling me the story, what happened after Mike said that?"

"So you were listening?"

"Always, now talk," she said, shifting around a bit and he continued to tell the story, running his hand through her hair. It only took a few minutes for her to stop reacting to it and for her breathing to even out. That wasn’t the surprising part. The surprising part was how he fell asleep a few minutes later too.

"You don't have to," Lena says, voice small and he chuckles.

"I'm not asking if I have to, I'm asking if you want me to." There's a pause that's long enough for him to question if it was the right thing to say, before she sighs.

"Yeah."

"Are you comfortable?"

"As comfortable as I can get," she says after some shuffling and he settles in bed too.

"What do you want to talk about?"

"I don't know, just tell me about the trip." So he does. With as many details as he can. About the place. The people. The joke Luke told in the van that morning. The restaurant they had lunch in. It makes him think about when he first moved and the rare occasions when their schedule managed to align enough for him to call and Lena would make him tell her everything about everywhere he had been. He talks while listening as Lena shifts around in her bed or lets out little reactions to what he's saying like huffed-out laughs or curious mumbling about what happened next until the shuffling stops and her breathing evens out. He stays on the line for a few more minutes, making sure she's really asleep then a few more because now he doesn't want to hang up. He considers how he could say anything to her right now. He could tell her he misses her. Make some promise about not hurting her again that she wouldn't believe in and he's not sure he can keep. Or a promise about always trying anyway that he really hopes he can. He doesn't say anything though. He just listens to her steady breathing until he can't justify staying on the line anymore.

_______

I don’t have a taglist but hit me up if you want to be tagged.

#wjdbieo #calum hood fanfic #5sos fanfic #5sos fic #calum hood fic #i still dont know how to tags fics yay lslskslsmslslsoks

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georgieluz · 1 year ago

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orchid, sage, aloe vera, palm tree for the ask game!

hello!! you picked such good ones omg!!

orchid ⇢ what’s a song you consider to be perfect?

just like heaven by the cure!!! every time i listen to that song it feels like the first time sfkjdh the absolute warm fuzzy brain rot i get from this song. just the perfect song for me honestly. also: common people by pulp, it's not my favourite pulp song but i do consider it to be the perfect pop song, california daze by peace, wings by hurts, wild flower by park hyoshin, yellow ledbetter by pearl jam, ode to the mets by the strokes, märchen and wander by hoppipolla, under pressure by queen and bowie, the whole oo-li and set albums by woodz, and finally, traffic by the stereophonics. also other people wouldn't call this perfect music, but death on the stairs (single ver) by the libertines hits perfectly for me every single time. just pure joy. and i can't not mention you're my waterloo by them too. okay i'm done! sorry for going way too overboard with this question!

sage ⇢ what ‘medium’ of art (poetry, music, fiction, paintings, statues etc.) is the most touching to you? why do you think that is?

okay this changes constantly for me. i'm all over the place with my desperate need to consume such things. i want it all and all at once. i will say i've grown a massive appreciation for sculpture over the last few years, especially working in a museum and watching people feel this uncontrollable urge to reach out and feel and touch and be in awe of them (yes i complain constantly about people touching bc pls do NOT touch the sculptures in museums!!! i'm begging you) but there's just something magical about a fully grown adult who knows not to touch things in a gallery and who keeps a safe distance away from the monets and the van goghs but just can't help themselves but reach out unconsciously in front of a rodin, usually they pull back before they even touch anything and realise but yeah, idk. it's just something i've been thinking about a lot. but i think more personally for me it's probably poetry. i always loved fiction as a kid and all the way through my life, i still do. i fell asleep listening to my dad reading tolkien to me as a kid and those works still run through my veins as much now as they did then. but it took me a long time to grow to love poetry. the stuff we learned in school didn't do anything for me. it took meeting someone with so much love and life and affection for the world reading poetry to me out loud at university for me to fully Get It. y'know for it to actually make me sit up and be like "holy fuck yeah i'm with you now". it took that same person handing me a book of rumi poems to fully crack open my chest for everyone to see. ever since then i've had a book of some kind of poetry next to my bed and another in my bag

aloe vera ⇢ what’s something (mundane) you really want to experience in life?

i wanna sit under a tree with my closest friends and sketch them quietly in the sunlight

palm tree ⇢ do you have a fictional villain you shouldn’t like but love regardless?

probably ben linus from lost. the writers wrote him so well, he was one of the most in-depth and complex villains in any show for me. did some absolutely terrible things but holy shit they made you empathise and sympathise and understand him. that show had me sobbing for him in the final episode. t'was wild, man.

#i'm so fucking sorry for rambling in every question #i'm in a very rambly mood today it appears #julian's ask games #julian's inbox

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jodilin65 · 22 years ago

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SUNDAY, JUNE 30, 2002 Tom was watching a home improvement show that told him that the direction of our dryer door could be reversed. I always wished it opened the other way and he fixed it.

Sneezy died yesterday, something I’m not too sorry about. I never really cared for that rat and his constant sneezing. I wouldn’t have kept him for just over a year like I did if it weren’t for Tom.

I was going to send Paula a bunch of MP3s since I’m re-burning them without folders. That’s nearly 700 songs. What stopped me was Tom’s pointing out that if I should get caught, that’s a felony. A felony for giving copies of the songs, and a felony for sending them through the mail. Knowing that I can never get away with shit, and knowing that it’d be Arizona that’d go after me and not Massachusetts, I decided against it, even though the chances may be one in a million that I’d get caught. Besides, she probably wouldn’t know what to do with them anyway.

Yesterday and today my throat was a little sore, but I don’t feel like I have a cold.

Tom signed us up for AOL but hasn’t gotten it working yet. Meanwhile, I’ve been adding my own photo albums to that community Webshots site, that huge wallpaper site I recently stumbled upon. So far I’ve uploaded 3 albums - 2 rat albums and one with mice. There’s this thing that tells me how many times the albums have been viewed and how many downloads were made. So far, my first rat album’s been viewed once and the second one’s been viewed 7 times, but no downloads were made. When I’m done with all the uploading, I’ll have 2 rat albums, 2 mice albums, a doll album, and a scenic album, which will consist of pictures I took on and around our land.

SATURDAY, JUNE 29, 2002 A group of about 4 of Tom’s employees got him some soda, a colorful birthday balloon, a card, and a credit card for up to $40 of food at the Olive Garden restaurant. That’s a lot of pasta!

He didn’t stop at the PO on his way to work tonight (last night), but that’s okay. I know my doll isn’t there, even though it is there. It’s just gonna have to sit there till we email PG on July 10th.

They have us rather confused right now. They were supposed to deduct 25% off of Carmencita and Murganah when I ordered them and bought a 1-year membership, but then they sent me certificates for 25% off of two dolls.

I am so done with this doll company after I fight for the 3 we ordered on our anniversary! So done with them! They may be cheap, but no thanks. Not if the fun’s gonna be spoiled with shit like this and with having to trace and fight for dolls. I’ll learn to make my own.

Got a makeshift letter from Mary yesterday. She was out of paper and envelopes. I decided to send her a sheet or two of blank paper whenever I write. I know how outrageous paper is in there - $1.50 for 50 sheets. Out in the real world, you can get so much paper for so little, so I don’t mind doing this at all.

I’m surprised she ran out of paper. She always has a ton of money in her account, and they don’t have a limit on how much paper per week you can order like they do with envelopes.

She also said something I didn’t quite get. Something about Justin’s trying to get into a funny farm, which means they’ll take her to prison in Florida.

But I thought she’d have to go to prison no matter where he ended up.

Anyway, she says she’s glad something will finally be happening and that she should know on July 22nd.

And I wish she’d stay there! Just long enough to give Teddy Bear my letter. God won’t have it, though, I know it. He’d never have her return while Mary was there. He wants us as done with each other as we have been since April 27th, 2001. Then why’d you have me fall in love with her, God??? Why’d I have to come to love her in the first place? To spice up my time there?

The sun, which is just now popping up from behind the mountain way off in the distance, looks so cool with clouds that make it seem red. It’s like this bright red fiery ball. Due to the clouds we’ve been having, I wonder if the monsoons aren’t making their way in. It’s a bit early, though most of June was typical - hot and dry without a cloud in the sky. I can tell just by the lack of static in my hair that there’s a higher level of humidity than normal.

FRIDAY, JUNE 28, 2002 Today’s Tom’s 45th birthday. I wish he were closer to my age since women are supposed to live longer than men. Maybe the years I smoked will make up for that, but I don’t know. He doesn’t work out. I do. I also eat healthier stuff.

By today the PO will have thrown Carmencita on a shelf and considered her an attempted delivery. That is if they haven’t given her to someone else.

Why can’t I order a doll and get it?!

THURSDAY, JUNE 27, 2002 Two mice died, so now I’m down to just 3.

I was thinking about it, and you know, I really wish the guinea pig had lived after all. Now that I’ve got all the rats living together in the new cage, the old one would be ideal for a GP. I miss the sounds they make. The cage wouldn’t need shelves or even a roof, as long as I elevate the base by putting it on its stand. I’m sure I could get Tom to go for getting another one. Just one, though. Preferably a male, so we’ll know it can’t be pregnant.

I called DBS (Dolls, Bears & Surprises) yesterday, and so far, it looks like we may go with them. They’re closer and cheaper than JBS. Like JBS, they have the same amount of classes per doll - 10 classes, usually completed in 5 weeks. However, their classes are a buck cheaper at $7.50, and it’ll take about $150 to get started, $100 less than JBS. If I need to take a second set of classes and assemble another doll, it won’t cost me as much cuz I’ll already have the supplies. All I’ll need is to pick out another doll, and as I was told, I can choose any doll in the store I want. He says he has something like 480 dolls to choose from.

Tom and I discussed him taking classes too, since they’re cheaper here, and we’ll make totally different dolls so we can learn more at once.

TUESDAY, JUNE 25, 2002 So it took 38 days to get Joy, and she is beautiful! Very realistic looking. More so than Bailey and Jade. Especially the hands. I’ve never ever seen such realistic and detailed-looking hands! With the exception of her eyes, which are kind of squinted and half-shut cuz of her huge smile, she’s better than Bailey and Jade. They fibbed when they said she was 26”, though. She’s more like 24½. I didn’t need to get her a stand. She’s using a stand I had.

Right now she’s on the TV, cuz of her pose. I didn’t realize she was looking downward as well as to the side, so in order to see her face better, it’s best that she be up a little higher. I’ll eventually put her on a shelf by the bed. Then she can look down at me while I read. Or maybe I’ll put her in the office.

Amazingly, I put together an outfit for her in under 20 minutes. I took some old material consisting of large pink and blue splotches, wrapped the material under her arms and around in back, then pinned it. The only sewing I did was the hem. Then I rolled some material and put it across her upper arms where her arms move and you can see down to the armature, wrapping it around the backs of her arms and pinning it. Not bad at all for a fast, sloppy put-together. The colors go great with her coloring and she looks great in an off-the-shoulder outfit. Especially since her chin nearly rests on her shoulder.

She has a different mouth mold. As I read, you can do the mouth differently after you’ve cut out the space for the mouth. In the pictures I saw of her, she had both upper and lower teeth showing, but my Joy only has upper teeth showing. It looks great either way.

I also got shoes and socks for Jade. White, closed-toed sandals and white socks with pink trim. If it weren’t for Jamie I’d have gotten shoes too small. I was gonna get 95 mm shoes, but she really needed 105 mm shoes. They’re a little big on her, but it’s easier to get the shoes on over the socks this way and it makes her feet look bigger and more proportioned. I always thought her feet were too small for her body. Hers and Bailey’s are the same size, yet Bailey is 8” shorter.

The classes are going to cost more than we thought they would, and Tom won’t be able to sit in and watch. Jamie said that’s mainly cuz there’s no room. After adding up the cost of the doll (not a cheap piece of shit) and all the other stuff, like the supplies, it’ll run us around $250, and according to her, I may need to do 3 or 4 dolls with them before I really get the hang of it. She said it takes hours just to clean the greenware. They have about 10 classes, each one 2.5 hours long, and it takes a couple of classes just to clean the greenware. I was surprised to learn this.

She said they recommend starting with Sugar Britches, a sleeping baby, but I don’t know. I need to learn to cut/set eyes.

She also told me that if I wanted to avoid the expense of a kiln, they charge $5 for soft firing and $10 for a long firing. Kilns aren’t as easy to use as a regular oven either. You don’t just stick the stuff in it. It has to be set on special props. That’s this stuff that looks like batting, only it can withstand extreme temperatures.

I’ll have to call Dolls, Bears & Surprises and compare prices. Maybe they start with cheapies like those $40 Seymour Mann dolls. JBS’s classes are only $8.50. It’s the doll and supplies that are costly, but it’s still worth it to me. At least I’m pretty sure it is, though it still seems rather overwhelming to me. It seems there’s so much to learn, but if I can enjoy this and make a little money at it, it’ll be worth the struggle. It’s too bad Tom can’t sit in. I had hoped he could so he could help me with anything I may forget or not understand. But I’m a quick learner with a great memory, so I’ll get by.

Not that I’m having any thoughts about reuniting with Andy, but I wonder - am I a horrible person for abandoning him like I did despite our growing differences? I suppose most people would say that I am and that I wasn’t a true friend any more than Jenny C was when she decided she could be my friend through the thick, but not the thin.

Another thing I wonder is whether or not Teddy Bear’s ignoring me is my punishment for dumping Andy. I don’t know, somehow I think it would’ve happened anyway under that not-meant-to-be rule.

Tom says he doesn’t think I’m a horrible person for doing what I did, and that I simply moved on like most people do.

Yes, I agree with him. When you think about it, how many people are in our lives for 10 or more years? Everybody moves on at some point and no one’s in our lives forever. At least, 99% of the people we meet aren’t. The only one that’ll be in my life forever is Tom. I’m sure I won’t always know Paula or Mary. I’m sure we’ll move on sooner or later.

Later…

I’ve been sleeping really weird lately. Due to the excitement of getting the doll, I slept for 8 hours but had been up 20 hours, so I was tired. Too tired to write, too tired to clean, too tired to work out. I was even too tired to shower, so I crashed for another 8 hours and ended up with 16 hours of sleep in an 18-hour period. This was after my schedule had shifted 14 hours in just 4 days.

Almost 2 hours after we got back with Joy, not that God would have him miss me, the cheeks popped in. Tom had just gone to bed and was too beat himself to hear him knock, which was good. Scot was in and out in a flash.

Good. That gets him out of my hair at home for a month or two. Still, the more I’m home and up when he comes by, the better. Answering the door as quickly as I can is a good thing, too. I wouldn’t want him getting paranoid and getting the wrong idea. I’ve suffered enough on account of others’ paranoia and misunderstanding of me. He’d suffer too, and I’d make sure of it, but I don’t need the hassle. I’ve had enough shit to deal with in my life. I still don’t see why I need to see him 3 times a month over a letter, but there are worse things in life, I suppose.

I’m still pretty sure Teddy Bear decided long before she got my letter that she was going to blow me off. Just the fact that she didn’t call by Christmas made me wonder about that, then when she didn’t call right before the letter, that made me wonder even more. No matter how professional I was, if I really liked someone that much, I’d have found an excuse to call her by Christmas, and if I switched jails, I’d want to let her know just in case the letter didn’t make it to me.

She never could’ve felt an eighth of what I felt for her. Even so, I wish to hell she’d return to Estrella before Mary leaves! I’m so, so curious to hear what she might have to say to Mary as far as why she did what she did, not that we could trust that she’s telling the truth. I could never trust her now. Not with the way she’s stood me up. I’d have to be a real fool to associate with her if she did one day call me.

But I am a fool. And I’m sure I’d jump right to any opportunity to see her, get to know her, get it on with her, etc.

MONDAY, JUNE 24, 2002 Tom left a memo saying he’d be home by 10:00 PM, but now it’s coming up on 1:00. It seems I spend more time waiting for this man to come home than anything else. I don’t see much of him lately. He’s either at work or asleep. He was going to stop at his mother’s, then head on to work from there.

No, I don’t think he’s having an affair, not that I’d care as long as they used protection. You know Tom, though - nothing turns him on and everything turns him off. He’s just not big on sex any more than some of us are big on spicy foods, so no, I don’t think he’s getting it on with anyone.

The reason I wish he’d hurry up and get home is so he can go to sleep. That way, since I’ve been up since 9:30 (I missed my new show), we could go get Joy when the store first opens, and he could be well-rested.

Later…

Tom came in right as I was finishing my last sentence. He went to bed after telling me a funny story about Dave, and we’re still going to get Joy together tomorrow. We’ll leave at 7:45, stop at Circle K for a snack and some coffee, then get to the store when they open at 9:00.

Anyway, Dave received an email from a relative in New York and a picture of his sister Tammy. Dave was like, “You mean my cousin Tammy?” But as it would turn out, his father was whoring around on the side and so he’s got 4 siblings he never knew about.

I guess they thought it was me playing a joke on them at first cuz the sister supposedly sounds just like me. They’ve talked on the phone and sent an email back and forth.

Then Tom had to go and piss me off after I said I’d sic my sister Tammy’s local pigs on her if she called ma’s to get to me. He didn’t actually piss me off, but his attitude really irks me. He was like, “Why would you want to start trouble? You gotta disassociate yourself from people.”

But sometimes people won’t let us disassociate ourselves from them, and he of all people should know this. Not even moving can disassociate us from our enemies at times! I tried yet again to tell him that sometimes you just gotta fight back. We’re in the mess we’re in today because we didn’t. Instead, he just wants to bury his head in the sand, defend the perpetrators right after agreeing that what happened to me wasn’t fair, not fight back, and basically just kid himself about the whole thing. I’ll bet he did the same thing with his family as he did with Paula and made me out to be the villain.

What I wonder about Tom is when is it ever appropriate to fight back? We got taken by contractors for thousands and he let it go, I got thrown in jail and he’s gonna let that go, too. I know he is. He’s not gonna seek future revenge on anyone responsible for what happened to me. He just says that to try and make me feel better, then he says he won’t tell me what he has in mind cuz the less I know, the better off we’ll be. He isn’t gonna do shit to them. He simply isn’t the type. One of us could be paralyzed in a car accident that wasn’t our fault and he still wouldn’t fight back. Probably not even if I were killed. Wouldn’t do him any good anyway. God would only protect my murderer.

On the other hand, what good would it do me to call Tammy’s local pigs? It’s New England, remember? They’ll just tell me what they did when I tried that on Larry out of spite; that they’re so far away, so I shouldn’t worry. Then they might tell me they’ll call them just to get me off their backs, but I know they won’t. That’s just not Arizona where you can call up a pig, tell them so-and-so gave you a dirty look, and watch them go flying after them like a bat out of a hell.

It’s a family thing, I guess, as far as others fucking them over. They hope it doesn’t happen, but when it does they just live with it.

I can sort of understand, though. Meaning that if the freeloaders suddenly decided to call and threaten me, I wouldn’t “fight back.” I wouldn’t bother telling Scot and I certainly wouldn’t run to the pigs about it. What good would it do me and who would believe me anyway? I’m white.

We put the grille back up in the skylight to avoid some of the direct sun/heat.

SATURDAY, JUNE 22, 2002 I was up 20 hours yesterday and slept for 10. Not without waking up several times in between for no reason. Once, I did have to pee, though.

Those freeloaders ran poor Tom ragged yesterday. He came home early from work yesterday, cuz he just couldn’t cut it on a few measly hours of sleep.

After having a dream that Teddy Bear was reconsidering calling me, there was a private hang-up a little while ago. I know it wasn’t her, though. She’d have left a message. It was just God teasing me with a few seconds’ worth of hope.

He’s so, so cruel to have let me fall for this woman on top of being thrown in jail. You know, we rarely get sales calls at this number, but during the two days after I sent the letter, there were a few of them. No doubt something up there wanting to tease me.

I can see, though, how seeing Teddy Bear may’ve only made things harder had we gotten together. I could’ve really ended up being torn between her and Tom, and if I had been dumb enough to choose her, it could’ve ended up ruining my life in all kinds of ways if things didn’t work out in the end.

Why oh why, then, did we ever have to meet? And if we did, why did she have to mean anything more to me than Palma or Pérez ever did?

I guess it’s a gender thing, too. More often than not, guys get too clingy while women blow people off.

I didn’t think to save a copy of my letter to Teddy Bear, so I’ve been trying to remember everything I wrote, asking myself if it could’ve gotten her in trouble. I don’t see how or why it would, but anything’s possible. It’s got to be either someone she met or something I said. What else could it be? Maybe it’s both. If it is something I wrote, then she’s more than likely going to always resent me for it. It’s not like she’d ever get over it, forgive me, then call me up to see how I’ve been, saying she had to deal with some personal problems or that she was just too busy to call right away.

She wouldn’t call if it was someone else either after they broke up or something. I mean, what’s she gonna say? That she couldn’t call right away cuz she had a girlfriend and now that they broke up she’d just love to see me?

Oh, Teddy Bear, Teddy Bear, how do I ever get over you??? How would she feel if she suddenly could know how much I loved her and how much I’m hurting over her? If this is still going on in a few months from now, maybe I’ll have to see Helen, though I don’t want to. We already spent a fortune on the freeloaders and we’re still doing so, so I don’t want to spend a fortune, even if it’s a much smaller one, on Teddy Bear.

I turned to Tom earlier and said, “You said this would happen, my falling in love with a woman. Well, please, please tell me it’ll never happen again!!! Loving you is enough. I don’t need to ever go through this shit again!”

Especially since I know nothing would ever come of it. She’d either play with my head or circumstances would prevent us from ever getting together.

Again, I have no regrets about meeting and marrying Tom, but why was it so important that I be fated to be a man’s woman, never to have the woman of my dreams? I mean, Kacey and Anne Marie came close, though Kacey was much closer. But if I compare Kacey to Teddy Bear, there’s no comparison. Kacey was an all-out settlement compared to her.

I’d have done things differently if I’d known Teddy Bear was going to blow me off. I’d either have not bothered to write, or I’d have written a totally different letter, in case that was it. I’d just be brief and to the point, telling her I was fine, I hoped she was too, and that I had some pet mice for her if she was interested.

Or maybe I’d tell her why I was there and let her know that the only reason we met was that I was Jewish and I complained on the wrong person with the wrong connections, as I said in the letter I’m sending to Mary. Then, while I could never know why she dumped me, she could at least know why I was really there.

Later…

The sun’s about halfway up now. Not a cloud in the sky out there. It feels like it hasn’t rained in ages. It’s been months, and June is the driest month in Arizona. It’s been an unusually dry winter, though. I wonder if the monsoons will be as wimpy as they were last summer, or as fierce as they were the summer before that. That would’ve been the summer of 2000, our first summer here.

I think I’ll look into getting a coffee bean grinder. Fresh-ground coffee is supposed to taste much better.

Tom said he might streak his hair after he bleaches it, then shave it off. He changed his mind, though, saying he has too many ugly moles to shave his hair. This was nice to hear cuz bald is ugly if you ask me. I hate that bald look.

I had Tom take off my shower brush and put my old shower massager back on. There’s just not enough water pressure out here to make the brush spin fast enough. In order to put enough pressure on the brush with my hand to scrub myself better, I’d have to stop the brush’s rotation. I also missed the small sharp, steady stream my old one puts out, leaving me room to step back out of the water in order to lather my hair. The other one sprayed too wide and I didn’t have any room to lather up in.

Tom and I were talking about different things, things we both agreed on, believe it or not. Here’s a classic example of how God lets some people get away with murder. Literally. From 1968-1970, a serial killer was on the loose in the southwest. He was known as the zodiac killer. Well, serial killers can’t stop, but this one did. He wrote tons of letters to the press and police, too. We think that the reason a serial killer suddenly “stops” is cuz he dies or is incarcerated for something else. He could’ve gotten caught, tried and convicted of arson or robbery or something.

We also agree that the end of the world, which probably won’t be in our time, won’t be caused by natural disasters or diseases. It’ll be either war or technology that’ll kill all the people. Right now we have bombs that can only kill thousands. Well, as soon as we get bombs that can kill millions, the world will be doomed if everybody doesn’t go bombing and shooting everybody up at once. People are crazy like that. There are tons of people who’d gladly kill themselves and take as much of the world along with them as possible.

FRIDAY, JUNE 21, 2002 Sure enough, the birds and the prairie dogs are happily sifting through the rat’s bedding that I just dumped out in the wash.

Tom was right. No mention of the classes. Mr. Serious himself was a bit looser today. A bit more talkative. Last time, it was like he was either in a bad mood, not feeling well, or tired. First we were held up by some mouthy dude who might as well have been coming to chat with an old buddy rather than his PO. This guy swore more than I do, too. When it was finally my turn to give him my form, he asked what was up and we told him about the car AC that crapped out on us.

See? Right on schedule. Can’t go more than 3-4 months without something expensive breaking. It’s a good thing Tom had that $500 from the stock money away to cover it. He better replace it too, as soon as he can so that we’re covered for the next thing that’ll break around September.

I mentioned looking forward to picking up Joy on Monday and getting class info.

When he asked if there were any changes, I said, “No. Well, actually, there is a change. You just haven’t noticed.”

Tom giggled at that point, then he noticed my hair and I said, “Yeah, I did a half-assed job, but I tried.”

Wait till he sees us both as bleached blondes!

Anyway, I was fucking sweating my ass off on the drive in and I thought the mister I brought along with me was broken. As Tom discovered right when we got there, the rubber ring had slipped to the side and just needed to be straightened out. That mister’s a real lifesaver, though. My heart was pounding just like it always does when I get overheated.

Anyway, he’s talking about either renting an air pump or borrowing one from work to convert the fucking thing so he can recharge it himself.

The weekend, which always seems to go too fast as long as the freeloaders are still in our lives, is going to go awfully slow this time around. That’s cuz we’ll be getting Joy Monday and I can’t wait! I think Tom’s gonna have to get her himself what with the way my schedule is now. Tomorrow, for the first time in over a month, I’m not setting the alarm!

The freeloaders wouldn’t let poor Tom sleep today. He didn’t get to bed till 10:00, then I woke him up at 1:00. If I’d known he didn’t get to sleep till that late, I wouldn’t have gotten him up till 3:00.

Anyway, at first I thought Tom couldn’t pick shoes out for Jade by himself, but it really wouldn’t be so hard for him. All he has to do is choose either a pair of plain white sneakers or sandals of some kind. If the shoes aren’t suitable for her, I’ll just use them on someone else.

Speaking of Jade, now that I’m getting to learn more about dolls, I made a discovery that both Tom and I laughed at. That 25” green-eyed Jade doll I like is my exact same Jade doll. They make her molds in either 25” or 32” like mine is, just like you can get Joy at either 19” or 26” like I’m getting.

They also have series depicting the same doll at different ages. There are a few dolls, Bailey being one of them, that have 3 different versions. There’s baby Bailey at 20”, then there’s my toddler Bailey at 24”, and sweet sixteen Bailey at 29”. I like the “Shay” series and I hope to have it someday.

Sometimes I can’t even decipher my own notes. A couple of lines down from where I’m actually typing, I like to list notes of the topics I wish to write about. Well, I’ve got the word slow written and I can’t figure out what the hell I meant by that. I’m like, what’s slow?

We both totally, totally mean it this time - we will never ever, ever go into another Dairy Queen as long as we live! Aaarrrggghhh! Those stupid, stupid Mexicans! I’m so sick of them and their stupidity and living in Little Mexico like this. Naturally, Tom insists it has nothing to do with people’s nationality, but I’m sorry, the bulk of them are either evil or downright dumb and illiterate.

We go in there and one of the two gigantic young and dumb Mexicans gives me the burger and fries I ask for in a reasonable amount of time. Shortly afterward comes my blizzard which is filled so full that ice cream’s slopping over its edges. The Mexie was too stupid to understand when I asked her to put the cup in its cover instead of trying to cover the top of the fucking thing and make even more of a mess. I don’t know if she had a problem with English or if she was just stupid, but I’m sure it was a combination of both. Meanwhile, Tom’s waiting and waiting for his own blizzard till he finally gets fed up and says, “Hey, look. He’s getting the same thing I ordered and you’ve served 5 others after I ordered.”

So the Mexie runs and makes him his blizzard, then he goes, “And then they don’t even fill it up.” And they didn’t. He got a large and I got a small, but between them not filling his and them overfilling mine, we ended up with the same amount.

I’m so sick of these stupid Mexicans, though. Sick of them! If they’d just get at least a high school diploma, instead of dropping out in 8th grade to join gangs, get high and spit out kids as fast as popcorn popping, maybe they wouldn’t be so fucking dumb. And goddamnit! This is America. We speak English here. I’m all for learning other languages, but if we’re gonna be dumb enough ourselves to let them keep pouring into this country, shouldn’t they at least have the decency to learn our fucking language if we’re gonna be forced to live together?!

I tacked a flag up to cover the skylight. It looks kind of cool with the light shining through the iris flag I chose, but we really could use a shade for it. It doesn’t cover it all, either. The skylight’s a few inches longer. Not as wide, though, so I folded it a bit.

I can’t pull any jokes on Tom to save my life, though as he admitted, it was a good try. It’s mostly because he knows I’m a little prankster and a joker. I tried to tell him that Lizzie Borden, who was accused and acquitted of axing her father and stepmother in Fall River, MA in 1892, was my great, great grandmother.

In truth, I don’t know when any of my grandparents were born, let alone when their parents were born. I don’t even know their names.

Tom knew that Lizzie Borden never had kids, and told me that if I had said she was a great, great aunt, then he may’ve bought the story.

THURSDAY, JUNE 20, 2002 No pre-reporting visit from the cheeks. I asked Tom if he thinks he’ll mention the classes tomorrow. He says no. Let’s hope he doesn’t! Like I said, one of these days I’m gonna surprise myself and do what I want in life. Not what others or fate tell me to do.

Got two letters from Mary. She wrote one last Saturday, then another on Sunday. Both were postmarked Monday the 17th, the day we were out (ain’t it funny how only Paula can’t seem to get mail to me?).

She agreed to take me up on my card-making offer, so as she requested, I chose a floral design (a bushel of roses on the front) and then printed what she wanted to say on the front cover, then on both the inside covers.

An address label company sent me several labels of various designs, so she’ll be seeing those. Paula will get a couple of them at some point, too.

You know, she really is by far the best pen pal I ever had. I thanked her so very much for writing as often as she does. She’s also making sure to answer my questions so I don’t go thinking she didn’t get the letter. I’m glad I have her for a friend and that I didn’t walk away like I considered doing.

She says she’s getting along better with Dope, as we call her, saying that at times she gets on Mary’s nerves for ignoring her, as she puts it. She’s standing firm against spending any more money on her. She didn’t show her what I wrote about her, so she doesn’t have to deal with her reaction. Yes, I know good and well that’s not something Dope could handle well. It’s ok, I told her, I was just venting on her behalf. Maybe she’ll want to give it to her in the future, like right before she leaves if she leaves first.

I’ll bet she must really wish we were cellies again now! No thanks, though. I’d rather be Tom’s celly here.

She said she was crushed to read that she abused her kids in the article I sent her from the net. I told her that I know she didn’t abuse her kids and so does she, and not to let the ways of the media get to her. It’s their job to make up lies and make people look bad. It should be illegal to slander people the way they do, but unfortunately, if you’re part of the media, you can say anything you want about anybody. They could’ve said I killed a dozen people and there wouldn’t have been anything I could’ve done about it. As Misery said, “The media’s never your friend.”

Nonetheless, I’m sorry the bullshit article upset her. I considered not sending it but then decided that since she did ask for whatever I could find, I’d send it, cuz she and I both know the truth. As an abused child myself, it’s all the easier for me to sense an abuser. They should’ve printed that she “pled guilty to neglect,” and not that she “pled guilty to abuse,” but see? That’s the media; always twisting things around.

As for this parole thing, I’m not sure what she’s talking about. She said something about being bummed out about them taking away 85% of the parole. I don’t understand that part of the law too well, nor can I even begin to guess how many years she’ll do, as I told her. I asked Tom if like me, and like most cases, if her plea bargaining was a mistake. He agrees with her, though, and says that if it’ll help put Monster in his place, then no it wasn’t. I told her that although I can’t say how many years she’ll get, be prepared and don’t be surprised if she gets many years of probation at some point. I reminded her that the system’s not about “justice” 99% of the time. It’s about power, control and money. The more people they can get and keep on probation, and for as long as possible, the more money they make. I asked Tom if he thought they’d have her on probation for life, and he says he doubts it cuz that’s usually for those convicted of sex crimes. It also depends on the state you’re in, too. I’m sure I don’t have to remind her of how different Arizona is compared to Massachusetts, though I did fill her in on Paula’s latest case.

Another thing I’ve learned, and which I told her about, is that no, honesty is not always the best policy, and no, cooperation doesn’t always help us. In other words, she can hope her good behavior helps, but I wouldn’t count on it. It’s going to depend on who’s got the leverage, what they think of her, etc. There are a lot of factors involved, and of course, life isn’t fair most of the time. Some may feel my way of thinking is negative, but to me, after all I’ve seen, heard and been through, I think it’s realistic, depressing or not. I just don’t think we should kid ourselves, is all. It’s best to hope for the best but to expect the worst. That way, one won’t get so disappointed in the end if things don’t go well.

I sent her the pictures of my hair dyed ruby red and told her that Tom suggested we bleach our hair in a month or two.

I asked her why she was on the bottom bunk this time. I know she always used to be up top whenever she could so she wouldn’t have to worry as much about getting moved. Maybe Dope was on top first. I hated the lower bunk in that cell cuz of the light right outside the door, but I also didn’t want my head by the desk right where the person above me would be climbing up and down.

She says the only DOs there that I knew are Misery and Pérez, and of course, she hasn’t seen Pérez. She says Misery’s the same old Misery, making her take shit off the walls. Then, just like with me, she shocked Mary by being nice and not bothering her with shit like that.

Boy, they really move those DOs around just like the inmates! Tom says they do it so they can’t have time to set up drug deals and other illegal activities.

I asked her if she’s ever had a crush on a DO, and if she had to do it with one of them, who would it be? Make it someone I knew too, I told her, so I can know who she was talking about. It’ll be interesting to see if it’s who I think it is (Teddy Bear). I also asked her if she’s ever been attracted to another inmate.

She liked the dolls, agreeing that Bailey’s the best. She liked Chris’s wings and Ciara’s gown.

She said she’d tell me more about James’s case sometime. That’d be nice. Also, knowing more of the details pertaining to both James and Gretchen might help us guess a little better as to what the outcome may be.

I wish Pérez would get back there so she can see if she got my letter or not.

Even more so, I wish Teddy Bear would get back there. She’s my only hope of finding out why she blew me off, but with my shit luck, she won’t return till after she’s gone. Also, there’s a chance Teddy Bear may not discuss it with her. Or maybe she’ll lie about it. If the real reason was cuz she’s seeing someone, she may just tell her that she simply decided it’d be best not to see each other.

If only she knew just how much I loved her and just how much she hurt me! I wonder how she’d feel about it. Probably not much. After all, I’m sure I’ve been the farthest thing from her mind since I left. I’m sure she rarely thinks of me.

I get by okay most of the time, but sometimes I still hurt pretty bad over her dumping me the way she did. Not just that, of course, but the not even calling to say thanks, but no thanks. Not even a simple little explanation. Nothing. It’s like she never existed and I never existed for her.

For a while there, I considered writing Helen a letter, explaining that I know I’m not her patient anymore, but could she give me advice on how to deal with this better and maybe get over her faster? I was going to tell her that it’s not like I’m not functioning or like I’m sitting around bawling my eyes out for hours at a time, it’s just that she’s always on my mind. I go to read and I’m suddenly distracted by a memory of her, then I refocus and begin to read more, till the thought of us getting it on distracts me once again.

After all, Helen has helped me in the past, like with understanding other possibilities concerning Tom’s dry dick, and in dealing with my anger over the freeloaders, not that they still don’t infuriate me cuz they do. I’m sure anyone else would feel this way too, if they were in my shoes. I’ll never be “okay” with what they’ve done to me.

Anyway, when I asked Tom’s opinion about it, he said it’d be rude to ask for free advice from her just because she’s a nice person, and after thinking about it, I see that he’s right. He said if I wanted to make an appointment, that’d be ok, but no thanks. I’m not that hard up for help. Besides, hasn’t enough money been spent on the freeloaders? I don’t need to start losing money over Teddy Bear, too.

I guess this is just one of those cases where time heals all wounds, but when? When??? In a few months? A few years? Never? When is she going to just go away? Just fade away and become an old memory that doesn’t surface much more often than Norah M from the Harley Hotel (the bitchy English supervisor I had a crush on)? She too, played with my head, saying she’d come visit me. Then, after I asked her about it, she was like, “No, I’m your supervisor and I’m scared of Springfield.”

She really couldn’t have told me this up front?

Anyway, I’m never going to get the closure that’d help me deal with this, which would be a phone call or a letter from Teddy Bear explaining why she did what she did, so I’ll just have to deal with it. Just have to wait it out and hope for the best.

Later…

Although I highly doubt Teddy Bear will return to Estrella while Mary’s still there, anything’s possible, so I decided that rather than have Mary tell her how I feel, I’ll do it myself. I’m going to type her a letter, then send it to Mary to give to her if God forbid she ever does see her.

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 19, 2002 Yesterday, Jamie called from JBS while I was online, telling me to call her. I didn’t get the message until after the store closed. I called her when I got up at 10:00 today and she said she wanted to know whether or not to ship her to our PO Box or if we were going to come get her. I told her we’d come and get her. She’ll be in on Monday, she said, so we’ll either pick her up in the morning when they first open or the late afternoon.

Judging by what she said, we’re beginning to think Chari’s molds aren’t available and that she was mass-produced. Our timing really sucks, though, cuz Chari’s on sale now for $120. Then, as soon as she changes the tags, Chari will go back to the usual $209 and they’re gonna have a buy-one-get-one-free deal as long as the doll is of equal or lesser value. Damn! If we’d only waited a little while longer to order Joy.

Later…

I did some homework of my own and managed to find a site that sells Chari’s SFGW (soft-fired greenware) which is what we want to start with. But how would I find her black dress? If I can find her dress, then maybe I won’t get her from JBS, after all. Besides, we can’t come up with $120-$209 by Monday.

TUESDAY, JUNE 18, 2002 No Scot, no Joy. Tom thinks she’ll be in next week and I think something’s wrong. If she is, I won’t be able to get her with Tom cuz I’ll be on nights.

the cheeks will probably see me Thursday, if not, then who knows when? Maybe he’ll start coming around less now that I’m over the halfway marker. I wonder if he’ll come twice next January like he did last January, though common sense ought to tell him that if I’ve been dumb enough to be suckered into sticking this shit out this long, then there’s a damn good chance I’ll stick with it to the finish line. The finish line that I hope exists, I should say.

Something woke me up at 6:45 this morning, though I went back to sleep. I don’t know what it was. It was a thump of some kind. Actually, it sounded like a door closing somewhere, but Tom didn’t even get in till noon. I was too tired to get up and check it out.

I tell you, I’ve been woken up here more than in the Phoenix house. Sometimes I wonder if I shouldn’t go back to sleeping with the fan on high. As Tom said, though, here it’s easier to go back to sleep. Yeah, but still, why do I feel like I’m being punished for living in a house I’m not supposed to be living in?

And is it really a wise idea for me to delve into this dollmaking thing? If I really am cursed in that department, I’d have an awfully hard time trying to work in a business that already seems quite complicated enough. I don’t know, I still think it’s easier not to bother, as much as I want to. If I don’t bother to try, then I can’t be disappointed over failing, can I? And I still can’t imagine being able to suddenly do what I want with my time in that sort of way.

I should’ve applied the same rule to Teddy Bear, followed my head and not my heart, told myself she wasn’t meant to be and that I’d never see her on the outs anyway, so just forget it and don’t even bother with her.

I can’t believe how many dreams I’ve had pertaining to this woman! When that thump woke me up I had been dreaming of her. This time around we had a kid together somehow, and she was on a phone somewhere, telling someone I had the baby.

MONDAY, JUNE 17, 2002 Right on with the breakage bullshit. The AC crapped out on us today, though sometimes it was kind of working. Better that than our water or power.

Red Lobster was out of lobster so I settled on a broiled combo platter of shrimp scampi, scrod, scallops and crab cakes. It was rather overpriced for such skimpy portions, but filling enough when combined with the baked potato, the salad and the biscuits.

Tom got a cheeseburger with fries.

Some little kid screamed its lungs out for a while there, too. I don’t know why in the world parents bring their kids to restaurants before they’re at least 5 years old.

We looked online some more at kilns. We may be able to get a decent one for about $300, rather than $600-$800.

I still want that bike too, but I don’t know. He’d never use it and I know it wouldn’t make a damn bit of difference in my looks. I could exercise 8 hours a day, but as long as I’m not willing to continually cut my calories day after day after day, I’ll never be thin. It takes constant starvation, during and after you’ve arrived at your goal weight. Why lose weight I’ll only gain back? Even if I could snap my fingers and be 100-110, I’d only be back in the 120s in a few weeks.

I’ll never allow myself to eat just anytime I want to, though. I’d never stop gaining if I did.

After Red Lobster, we went to a bookstore in search of dollmaking stuff. We found a magazine called Doll Crafter and may subscribe to that and others. It also lists places that sell supplies in each state. Both Dolls, Bears & Surprises and JBS Dolls were listed.

I’m seriously beginning to think something’s wrong with Joy. Tom says he hopes there is so we can get a discount.

But how am I gonna make dolls if I’m so cursed with them?

Anyway, Tom got himself a computer book, then we hit Walgreens for hair dye. I was going to go dark brown but decided on ruby twilight once Tom pointed out how cool-looking the color was which I totally agreed upon. I didn’t do so good a job, though. Amazingly enough, one box was enough for all this hair, but I didn’t cover it too evenly. It still looks cool this way and more natural. The red is brighter and more vivid on my scalp than on the other parts, but it’s still a nice change. A nice dark, yet intense red. Nothing like Teddy Bear’s was.

Guess you wouldn’t find me so attractive now, would you, Teddy Bear?

Maybe she never really did in the first place.

Anyway, it was $4 and there was a 50¢ coupon enclosed for if I want to get more sometime. I printed out some pictures I took of it for Mary and Paula. Believe it or not, my face doesn’t look as big as I thought it would, but I’m no skinny-mini. You can see those hips of mine just fine. I’m pearing out and losing my hourglass shape. Where did these hips and tits come from, I wonder? They took nearly 30 years to show up.

So, Tom and I grabbed some drinks, and before we sweated on back home, Tom shocked the shit out of me by suggesting we both bleach our hair blond and then surprise Mom, Mary and Dave with it! Now that would be a sight to see. I never thought Tom would ever dye his hair. He looks good with the gray. You know how it is - gray hair makes a man distinguished-looking while it makes a woman look older. But I never thought he’d care to dye his hair. I always figured I’d look just as shitty as a blond as I did with it black, but we’ll see. If we end up hating it that much, we can always dye over it, but if I go blond, then I could streak colors in my hair. I’d probably use the violet in contrast to the blond in that case.

If Scot comes this week - let me guess - it’ll be Thursday. Yeah, that’s another popular day for him. It’s like he wants to get an idea if he’ll be seeing me the next day or not.

I’m only holding my schedule till Friday, whether or not Joy comes. If I can’t be there to get her, then I can’t. Meanwhile, Tom can ask the questions and Jade’s shoes can wait.

SUNDAY, JUNE 16, 2002 So, Scot, you gonna come wake me up this week? Well, you’re not coming tomorrow afternoon. That much I do know. That’s when we’ll be out. We decided to go to Red Lobster, then to a new bookstore to see what dollmaking books or magazines they may have.

I dreamt of Teddy Bear last night. I still hurt over her blowing me off. Not to the point where I’m shedding tears, but I wish I didn’t have to think of her every day. I’d ask God for help, but I know better. He wants me to think about her and hurt over her. My pain is his pleasure.

I ask myself “what if” questions a lot. Like, would I want to continue living if Tom died if I had all the money in the world? Definitely not, but if I did, would I seek out women? Definitely not. I would know better. Women were never meant to be unless they were settlements, or short-term if they weren’t. I was meant to be a man’s woman, but this doesn’t mean I’d go seeking out men, either. I would stay by myself.

Some people believe we meet the spirits of those we knew in life after we die, which is something I always dreaded since I don’t care to reunite with 99% of those I’ve known. However, the idea’s a bit more appealing if it’d reunite me with Teddy Bear so I could ask her what happened.

Maybe this is more my fault than hers. Maybe if I hadn’t been dumb enough to believe she was really attracted to me and wanted to get together with me, I wouldn’t be hurt like this.

I’m gonna be checking out a new series based on the 1984 movie The Dead Zone about a guy who wakes up from a 6-year coma with second sight.

I finally learned who made Bailey. The name Laura Palt was painted on the back of her neck, but that’s just the person who fired, painted and assembled her for sale such as I want to do. I was looking at a picture of a Donna Rupert doll named Bailey that was done up in an Indian slip. Although she had dark hair and eyes, I studied the picture and noted that the pouty expression was the same and so were the hands and the facial shape and features. She was also a 24”. I asked Tom his opinion and he agreed it was Bailey, too. I couldn’t tell if it was a sitting or standing doll, but that wouldn’t matter. Any legs could be assembled. Anyway, it’s nice to learn that your favorite doll was created by your favorite artist. I just may get her molds too, and give her a dark versioned twin sister.

SATURDAY, JUNE 15, 2002 Now that’s a writer who learned her lesson the hard way. The woman who founded American Atheists had a magazine in which she used to slander someone she fired. It got her shot and killed, so maybe this will make some people think first.

I know I could never be a writer. Not the kind that writes about people in papers and magazines. Too many sensitives out there. Besides, slandering people would be required of me. That’s what the media is all about - bashing people they don’t even know to entice the public. Well, to me, it wouldn’t be worth the risk of pissing off the wrong person and getting killed.

I’ve got to wonder, didn’t the person who decided they knew me well enough to write a whole big article on me consider this possibility? Do they ever consider it?

Tom will be home in an hour or two and then we’ll order the dolls and get the chase on. As for Joy - fuck it. I’m either there to get her or I’m not cuz I’m letting my schedule go in a day or two. If I’d known she was going to be this late, I wouldn’t have held my schedule back in the first place.

We may switch to AOL cuz they’re having a deal that could save us $100 over the next year. I also want a new screen name. From now on, I’m only Dawn to Mary, who’s Moon to me. That’s her nickname. I think I’ll be ratlady1204.

Tom explained to me what he meant when he said he just wanted to see that I got help at the sentencing hearing, but it makes no sense to me. He said that as a last-minute thing, he thought his reminding the judge about Helen and my willingness to see Helen might save me from jail time, but as soon as it was our turn to talk, I knew that the judge decided long before we even stepped in that courtroom to throw the book at me, so to speak. I don’t know how Tom thought that kissing up to the judge would suddenly change his mind. Even if the black bitch herself had come out and said, “You know, this really isn’t fair. After all, me and my associates are the ones that started this shit, and in a sense, we asked for anything we got from her. We harassed her and her husband, we lied, we exaggerated the truth, and besides, she doesn’t deserve punishment for anything she’s done anyway,” the judge still would’ve had it in for me. Once the people on the opposing side have made up their minds about you, that’s the way it stays, no matter what new evidence may be brought forth later on.

As I learned…No, honesty is not always the best policy. No, the truth does not always set us free. No, being cooperative (seeking Helen’s help) does not always help us. It all comes down to who has the power and the control, and what they want done.

I hope by now Mary’s learned a few lessons of her own; that sometimes you have to put your foot down, and to hell with it if people call you a bitch or stingy or confrontational.

Other than that, we’re just going to relax for our 8th anniversary and go out to a buffet on Monday.

I’m sure the cheeks will wake me up next week.

It’s only been an hour since I ate and I’m already starving. I want to wait two more hours, though. I’m spacing the 5 times I eat with 3-hour intervals. I had nearly 3000 calories yesterday, so I gained back one of the 4 pounds I lost. The plan is to diet over the weekend, then on Tuesday, I’ll decide whether or not I want to keep going with it. I doubt I will, though. I’ll probably just eat my way up to 125, then cut my calories till I get back down to 120. Then repeat the whole process.

Later…

Tom got in around noon, ate his lunch, then we ordered the dolls. We went to do it online but weren’t sure about ordering the dolls at the same time we ordered the membership. We felt it best to talk to someone so we could specify what coupons we wanted to use on what dolls. So, because Tom has a hard time understanding Chinese accents, I called and placed the order. Both Carmencita and Murganah will be $30 instead of $40 since we bought the $20 membership package which is good for a year. The Fairy of Cork will be the full price of $25. I don’t need to use the two free shipping coupons cuz I automatically get free shipping as it is for ordering over $99 worth of stuff. It totals $105 altogether. As Tom said, though, we can use the coupons on cheaper dolls.

I was surprised when she told me Murganah and the Fairy of Cork were out of stock. I really thought that if anyone was out of stock, it’d be Carmencita. So we’ll have to have them put a trace on Carmencita in a month, and Murganah and the Fairy of Cork will arrive late, but without any problems.

So, overall my life is good, even though the freeloaders are in it and Teddy Bear’s not.

FRIDAY, JUNE 14, 2002 Another pound down. I’m taking a break today, which should cause me to gain two pounds back, but I’ll be dieting again over the weekend. Then Monday we’ll be going out to eat, so I won’t resume dieting yet again, if I decide to continue with it, that is, till Tuesday.

I was browsing through the more humorous wallpapers last night when I came across one that would’ve been perfect for the freeloaders. It showed a hand holding a gun and said: Warning! I don’t dial 911. When I commented to Tom about it, instead of having any kind of a sense of humor about it, he said, “Yeah, that’s how all this trouble got started.”

When I asked what he meant, he said, “If you hadn’t thought that way in the first place, all this trouble wouldn’t have happened.”

Yeah, I know. It’s all my fault. Everything’s always my fault. Of course, it’s just as easy for me to say that if he had let me handle the bitch my way to begin with, we wouldn’t be in this mess. Nor would we if he’d listened to me when I told him something was very wrong with Paul, paid off Sharon, and stayed away from the courthouse.

I know Tom blames me way more than he blames them, besides the fact that it’s in Tom’s nature to blame me when I’m mad at or having a problem with someone. I don’t think it’s right and I believe he should stand by his wife, but this is just the way he’s always been. If I start bitching about Jane Doe or Joe Shmoe, he’ll start bitching at me for bitching at them, implying either directly or indirectly that I have no grounds to be pissed at them, and perhaps I asked for trouble somehow.

Believe me, I know it’s my fault even though it isn’t. Meaning, I’m not responsible for the freeloader’s actions. I didn’t make them harass us the way they did, nor did I do anything to them to deserve it, other than to ask them to lower their music. If that’s provocation in the freeloader’s eyes, then that just goes to prove how warped they truly are, though they picked on us before we asked them to quiet down and would’ve done so if we never said a word to them as well. They were in their own little world, oblivious to those around them unless they were putting thought into badgering me, like by chaining the dog to the jeep in the carport, so it could be as close as possible to our house.

I kick and blame myself all the time for how I handled the freeloaders, the pigs, Paul - the whole damn thing. However, nothing I did/said/wrote warrants being locked up and placed on probation. I didn’t ask for the shit these freeloaders gave me. I never deserved the shit they gave me directly in Phoenix, and I never deserved the shit they’ve given me through the Jew-hating pig and our minority-pampering system after leaving Phoenix, either. Regardless of guilt or innocence, anyone can say/write that they’re gonna kill someone. Anyone can. 95% of the time it’s just talk. Meanwhile, if we were to lock up everybody who made a threat at one point or another during their lives, 95% of the population would be locked up.

Although I wanted to rip the shit out of Nancy, and although I knew I couldn’t stand to be her celly one moment longer, I knew she was full of it when she threatened me. She knew I’d have Chavez pull me and that’s exactly what she wanted at first so she could be alone till she got bored being all by herself.

I’m not saying no one acts on their threats, but 9 out of 10 times, those who are serious act if they’re going to act, they don’t make threats. Most threats are either said in moments of anger or simply meant to intimidate people or to get them off their backs.

Nothing bothers me more than when Tom said, “I just want to see that she gets help” at the sentencing. I mean, what kind of a defense is that? Doesn’t he realize how guilty that made me seem? He even had Paula believing I picked on the cunt for no good reason at all and told her I’d probably do it again.

Yes, he’s stuck by me through all this shit, but just how much is he really on my side?

The wallpaper site I’ve been into lately, lets you send their pictures as e-cards, the equivalent of postcards. I’ve sent pink flowers to Tom for our anniversary tomorrow, and then a couple of rabbits on a skateboard for his birthday.

It’s been 28 days since we ordered Joy. Something’s wrong. How the fuck am I gonna be a dollmaker if I’m always going to have to chase down the dolls?! I’m sure God will have me fighting for greenware just as much as he does assembled dolls. Still, we’re ordering those dolls from Paradise Galleries tomorrow. I’ll make sure he hangs onto the order number so that we can have them put a trace on whatever dolls I don’t get in 30 days from tomorrow.

In other news, I made the comment to Tom that I’d probably never have sex again in my life, meaning that no one seems to be serious when they claim to be attracted to me and want me.

Then he said, “I know, you told me.”

I was like, “No I didn’t. What do you mean, I told you?”

Then he goes on to say that I told him I wouldn’t do it with him, and I’m like - what I crock! I never said that. What I said was that I could live without it, since it was nothing new and exciting. Besides, he’s a bore in bed. I didn’t need to tell him this, though. But it’s nothing personal against him. These days nothing could turn me on but a woman I was attracted to going down on me and that’s never going to happen.

It’s all bullshit, though. Just bullshit. Why can’t he admit that we both have no interest in getting it on together? Like I said, if it isn’t gonna be the bear going down on me here and there, I’d rather be celibate. I can’t get it on with just any woman, so I guess this means God wants me to be faithful, even though he cursed the sex life we used to have, even if it was a joke of one. Despite the fact that I no longer desire sex or a kid, I still feel just as picked on by getting a man who only gets hard as I do blessed by him sending me someone with Tom’s personality.

I just don’t get God. It’s like he has a weak moment where he’s suddenly in this wonderful mood and he blesses me with something good, but most of the time he just wants to hurt me. He lives for seeing me hurt. How totally cruel of him, after allowing me to be thrown in jail when I never should’ve been there in the first place, to finally, after all these years, meet and fall in love with a woman I’m attracted to, who was attracted to me back, or so she said, only to put the joke on me in the end. I’m sure he was up there laughing his ass off every time I’d sit and think in excited anticipation of seeing her again on the outs.

Is he up there laughing down at me right now? Is he saying to himself, so, she thinks she’s gonna be a dollmaker, huh? Well, I guess I’ll just have to remind her who’s in charge of her life, and it ain’t her!

Later…

Earlier I had said to myself and to Tom, “It’s only dolls, so why would God stop me from making them?”

Just because he can. Foolish or not, I’m not giving up, though it doesn’t matter that it’s only dolls. It doesn’t matter if it’s something as farfetched as jumping to the moon, or as natural as having a baby. If it’s what I want, it’s probably out of the question. He can stop me by having people fuck up on me like they do when I try to get assembled dolls. He can stop me from selling any by simply making sure no one buys any. With God as my enemy and a force that’s a million times more powerful than anyone in this world, I don’t stand a chance if he stands against me.

I know God views, judges and treats us all differently. Some of us he hates, some of us he likes, some of us he loves. I think the only way he’d truly love me would be if I did everything I didn’t want to do. If I ate things I didn’t like, wore clothes I didn’t like, and did things I didn’t like. But whenever I can help it and get some say in the matter, it’s not going to happen.

I don’t have to sit and guess or wonder if he’d have the courts punish anyone who beat, raped or killed me. I know the answer to that. He wouldn’t just let them get away with it, he’d reward them with all kinds of wonderful things in life. If a person with an average life harmed me like that, all of a sudden they’d be winning the lottery, getting the job promotions, getting lucky in love and they’d have virtually no health problems. They would have the willpower to quit smoking or lose weight if they wanted to.

THURSDAY, JUNE 13, 2002 Just got done changing both the mice and rat cages.

I’m down two more pounds, so I’m 122.

Got up an hour and a half later than planned, at 9:30. So I got 9½ hours of sleep, although I could’ve used the usual 10-11.

I’m beginning to wonder if JBS fouled up our order. After all, it’s a doll for me, so why not? If we were ordering anything else, like a mural, then there’d be no problem. They were pretty speedy with Jade’s kit, though, so we’ll see. The deadline is Tom’s birthday.

I had a series of weird dreams, but the only one I remember is a bad one pertaining to Paula. I was at her apartment when two cops came to arrest her. The male pig told her she was in the biggest amount of trouble she’d ever been in as he cuffed her, then led her to a cruiser with a scrawny blond female cop following with her gun drawn. I asked the male pig if he needed me to stick around and he told me he didn’t.

So where are you, Scot? You like to visit me on the 13th (3 X’s on the 13th). Maybe he’ll skip June altogether or come next week right before I see him. He also likes to see me before I see him.

Of course, I still have this class bullshit hanging over my head, since he didn’t say they were omitting it. Even if they did, they’d just pick on me with something else. Watch, with my shit luck, they’ll try to extend my probation, saying I didn’t do it so it still needs to be done. Well, I can guarantee them one thing for sure and that’s that that’ll never happen. Come October 30th of 2003, if I ever hear from any law enforcement person(s) ever again pertaining to this sick black bitch, I’ll sue the shit out of this state so damn fast, Maricopa County will be left in a daze for decades.

Why the fuck do they even have such a thing as “freedom of speech” if we can’t exercise this so-called right in the first place? Well, I’m sorry, Arizona, but I have a right to say what I want to and to dislike any person or group of persons I want to, goddamnit! When I lay a hand on someone and it isn’t in self-defense, then they can bitch about it.

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 12, 2002 I’m hungry but down a pound.

Got a letter from Mary today. This time around her request was to print and send her any articles about Monster’s being crazy. Despite the nature of the crime, all I could find was one little paragraph outlining the highlights of the case. I sent it to her.

She said something about making hair locks out of her shedded hair and asked if I wanted her to send me one. I’m not sure I know what she means by making hairlocks, but sure, send me what you want, I told her.

Teddy Bear’s a hopeless, lost cause in my life that’s now a closed chapter, but I thanked her for asking around.

Oh, and I wouldn’t necessarily believe everything you read in the Bible, I told her, pertaining to how she quoted the Bible’s saying “The truth will set you free.”

The truth will set you free? Yeah, right! I suppose that’s why I was there. It just doesn’t always work that way. At least, not for me it hasn’t.

She says now the captain says she can’t release any of her money. What happened to their release of property thing? As I agreed with her, it is unfair that she can’t release her own money. Just one more stupid, arbitrary rule to control people with, huh? I guess it works out for the better, though, since Tom couldn’t get the money anyway.

Then what she had to say next got me pissed. It’s about Hope, who’s been a regular little user and has turned against Mary for finally putting her foot down. I told her I didn’t care if she showed Hope what I had to say about her.

She said she’s been taking care of Hope financially all these months and that she worries about telling Todd and her uncle, who’s dying of cancer, cuz she doesn’t want them all pissed off and worried.

I was shocked that she could let someone use her like that, but more so I was downright pissed. Damn that little greedy, rude, selfish, spoiled, immature, vindictive wimpy bitch! And her family too, for telling Hope over the phone that Mary should share her stuff with her. And just why should she? Since when is Hope K her daughter and her responsibility? To what does she owe her the honor of being her slave? It’s a good thing I’m not there! And I don’t care if the little fuck reads my opinion of her, but God help her if she gets my address and writes me cuz that’ll be an immediate page 2 for her if she does. Yes, I’ll be running to the piggies myself and I’ll be filing charges quicker than my electric nail filer can file my nails if I hear from her.

I told her she doesn’t have to worry about telling Todd or her uncle. All she has to do is stop giving to her. If she can’t handle it, tough shit! That’s her problem.

Yeah, I figured she was either a pervert or a child beater. She broke her kid’s ribs, she told me. Lovely, huh? I could kick myself for feeling bad for her when the emotional wimp cried hysterically on the phone that day in April, then passed out (probably faked it), then was maxed and sent to A Tower. (yeah, I could kick myself for a lot of things)

She really pissed me off that time I was fighting with Teresa and Laticia, who were just as rude, childish and as selfish as she is. It was none of her business, the beef was between me and them, yet she just had to go and stick her nose in it anyway. She needs to learn to mind her own fucking business! She’s never gonna survive in prison. I’d bet my favorite doll that she doesn’t get out alive. She’s gonna fuck with the wrong person there. I know it. I just know it, and I told her so.

Oh, and to run and call Mommy over it is so incredibly childish. That’s like some little kid running and crying out, “Mommy, mommy, she won’t let me play with her dolly!” Oh, boo-hoo. Poor, poor thing! That was just as childish as when she ripped up the note I had for Teresa. The mature, adult thing to do would’ve been to just ignore me. Then she had the nerve to write, “You wouldn’t be saying these things if there weren’t doors and walls between us.”

Oh, yes I would, I thought to myself. Who does she think she’s kidding if she’s implying I’d be afraid to speak my mind to her and her little friends to their faces?

Believe me, back then, I wished there weren’t doors and walls between us, and I’d love to be back there for just two minutes, but I couldn’t write all about the things I’d like to do to her in my letter. As we learned, there’s no such thing as “freedom of speech.”

Hope’s a hypocrite, too. She also wrote in that kite to me that I was bossing the pod around, which as Mary knows from being there, was pure bullshit. Meanwhile, she’s sitting there telling people to do this and do that.

People like her really make my blood boil! Who the hell is she to think she’s owed anything from anyone after all she’s done and the way she treats people? She has no conscience or empathy for others. All she cares about is herself. Just wait till she gets to prison. They’ll set her straight there. She won’t be a little beggar there. Or a big-mouthed, back-stabbing hypocrite.

I feel so bad for that kid of hers. Imagine being that kid, and one day you’re asked where your mother is and all you can say is, “Oh, my mommy broke my ribs so she’s in prison till she gets a taste of her own medicine.”

I have no sympathy for this sick twist simply because she admitted to what she did, according to Mary. Doesn’t make her any less guilty. She’s still a subhuman piece of shit I’d spit on then step on as if she were merely a cockroach or yesterday’s trash.

Well, she can just remind her that she came to Estrella as a witness, not to be her servant. She doesn’t owe her shit, so whether she’s being a spiteful little greedy, spoiled bitch or a major sweetheart, she shouldn’t let herself be used. She’ll never get a dime of that money back.

Hopefully, she’ll either shut up, mind her own damn business, fend for herself and leave Mary alone, or one of them can be moved. Hope should be the one to move if it comes to it cuz she’s the one causing trouble.

Why can’t I run into people like Nancy K, Teresa B and Hope K on the streets where I have nothing to lose? Then again, you know God never lets me get away with anything. As soon as they got out of the hospital, they’d either come torch our house, or I’d go to jail. Even worse, they might do something to Tom.

TUESDAY, JUNE 11, 2002 I couldn’t get up at 8:00 like I wanted to. I had to sleep till 10:00 instead. Since I had 10 hours of sleep today, maybe I can get by with just 8 tomorrow. If I could only fall asleep earlier! And if I only didn’t need so much fucking sleep! I thought we were supposed to need less sleep when we got older. I guess that really means old kind of older.

After calling two places yesterday that wouldn’t take the rats, we dumped the male babies before leaving for the new mall in Chandler.

At the mall, we looked for a place that sold that hair-streaking stuff, but never found a place that did. We went into the As Seen on TV store and got this shower massager with a rotating brush that I’ve been wanting. It really scrapes away dead, flaky skin.

We ate in their food court, before heading to a strip mall where they had the hair stuff.

Tom did my hair for me, since it’s so long, and it was a bust. I should’ve known better, too. Especially since it said it was better on lighter hair. My hair was too dark for it, so you can’t even tell anything was done to it. I’ll have to get a color, especially for darker hair, or I’ll just dye it all dark brown. I’m still not sure when I’ll cut it.

One thing’s for sure and that’s that Scot couldn’t have come to the house yesterday. Not with God knowing I wasn’t home to have to deal with him.

As unfair as it is, it’s good that I’m home and answer the door as quickly as I can when he does come around. I wouldn’t want too many absences to get him all paranoid and think we’ve got something to hide in here when we don’t, thus making trouble for us, then ultimately for himself and anyone else dumb enough to get involved. I will file the biggest harassment lawsuit, plus whatever else I can think of along the way if he even thinks of tossing this house. Then they can say I hate whites too, and act like these poor, poor victims.

As I said before, this isn’t a county jail cell. This is my home. And the state and its drones aren’t about to play mommy and daddy with me on the home front if they know what’s good for them!

I have to back down a good 5 pounds or so. I’m not looking to get skinny, but 125 pounds is a bit uncomfortable for me. It gets a bit hard to get around. I’ve been slacking off on any kind of aerobic activity, and it goes to prove once again that it really does help. It won’t make you skinny like dieting can, but it’ll help keep your weight from going up. So, I’ll row or walk and put myself on a low-cal diet for a few days. It’s no big deal. Not like it would be if I tried to tell myself I was going to get down to 100-110. Even getting down to 115 would be quite a battle. I know I’d look better and that my clothes would fit better, but it’s not worth the slavery it’d take to get down there. Also, the lower my weight is, the harder it is to maintain it.

We saw an exercise bike in Sears, which was amazingly comfortable and quiet! The seats sure have changed. They’re not like the seats of regular bikes anymore. They have seats wide enough for even the fattest of asses, and a nice comfortable back, too. The one we saw, which was one of their smallest, was for $180. We both agree we want to get it at some point and put it in the den (I already made room for it). That way, I can row to at least one half-hour show a day and it won’t be so boring.

Meanwhile, the walker is a bit too strenuous and the rower makes these clanky sounds, making it hard to hear a TV or anything like that, so I just row to music.

Also, I had stopped doing ab crunches to see if the zapper alone would be sufficient enough, but it’s not. The two of them combined work best, so I’ll start crunching again.

Later…

It’s possible that someone may’ve bought the land across the street cuz I saw some cock in a red pickup get out and look for property markers the other day, and today, a county car was sitting in the road for a while. This could mean that they’re going to grade the road for bringing a house in and to deter people from driving on the property.

Whenever a house gets over there, I’ll have mixed emotions about it. It’ll do us good money-wise, but we’ll lose even more privacy. Knowing they’ll just have to sit at the front of their house, and I’m sure the house will be closer to the road, we’ll have to see them and their dogs, which may be a bit audible, depending on just how close to the road they settle. We’re 150’ from the road, so if they end up 150’ from the road too, which seems logical, that’s 300’ which would be closer than next door is at about 400’. Not a thrilling idea, but anything’s better than having blacks and Hispanics 3’ away.

SUNDAY, JUNE 9, 2002 I have thought of Teddy Bear every day for nearly a year and a half now, and I have to wonder, will there ever come a day when I don’t think of her? I doubt it. I just wish I knew what happened! I’m only 95% sure she got the letter and blew me off for either someone else or cuz I’m married, not 100%.

Damn you girl, get back to Estrella so Mary can at least question you!

But I know this will never happen, and if it does, Mary will be gone by then.

In less than an hour, I’ll have been here a decade. That’s something I have mixed emotions about. I still like Arizona, but over the years I’ve found more and more things not to like about it.

Despite its hardships, how different my life is now than when I stepped off that plane 10 years ago! I was 25 pounds lighter with barely a gray hair or two. My only friend was a pothead, and I had no furniture or place to live. Then God nearly starved me to death!

How dumb and naïve I was to have gotten involved with anyone I met at the pool or anywhere else around there. I can’t be held responsible for people’s actions like Andi’s, Rosemarie’s, Donna’s, Robert’s, Mark’s or Ellie’s, but you know what? If I had ignored them, none of my problems with them would’ve happened.

Well, sort of. I have to take that back when referring to Andi. With just a thin little wall between us, it was rather impossible to ignore her shit, just like with the freeloaders. Sometimes we’re just too close to our enemies to be allowed the privilege of ignoring them.

SATURDAY, JUNE 8, 2002 It makes keeping a schedule really hard when you need so much damn sleep! I couldn’t drag my ass out of bed till 9:30, an hour later than I’d have liked. Watch, I’ll be tired all day. Then come early evening, I’ll wake right up. Maybe I’ll take Benadryl at 9:30, so I can have my damn 12 hours of sleep. I believe I only got 10 this time around.

I ask myself, what if I could choose between staying right here with the freeloaders very much a part of our lives, or going back to Massachusetts and living in the same nice house, also on 10 acres, with no freeloaders involved? Would I return to Massachusetts? You know, I think I would. After all, the only real thing I hated about New England, besides its weather, was the fact that things tended to be a little too old and a little too expensive. Things are different now, too. I wouldn’t have to be out playing bus in the cold, snow and humidity. It would be very hard for us to afford a house there, though. Very few houses there are under $100,000.

Later…

At 1:00, our power went out. We figured it’d be back on in a few, but by 3:00, it was near 90 in here. Tom put batteries in his old radio and learned that the power was out in Maricopa and Stanfield, which they were calling Stanford.

So we went to Walgreens in Casa Grande and I picked up a few neat things. Glittery hair ties in various colors, very berry lip gloss, two sports bras, Sunflowers cologne, and some nail polish I shouldn’t have bothered with. It’s supposed to be light pink in warmth, blue in cold, and green/gold in UV rays, but it’s not that impressive. It feels rubbery, too. It has no shine and is barely visible even with 3 coats cuz it’s so light. That chrome nail polish is definitely the best.

Anyway, I put some of the glitter ties in a few of the doll’s hair, but on Jade, they’re bracelets. She has 3 on each wrist. With Mei Lin, I put 6 different colored ties down the length of each of her two ponytails. It totally goes with her outfit. I used a white one to tie Chris’s ponytail with, a pink/gold one as Falling Star’s headband, a gold one around Emerald’s ankle to go with the gold accents in her green dress, a pink one around Bailey’s ankle, a silver one around the skating Barbie’s waist, one as a tube top for another Barbie, and to tie off two of the Indian doll’s two braids with, I used pink, purple, blue and black. I’m sure I’ll decorate future dolls with them as well as my own hair.

FRIDAY, JUNE 7, 2002 Well, today’s the day. I should find out today what’s going on with the class shit. Tom says taking adult education classes is no big deal, and that the most it could be - and this is extreme - would be a few times a week since they know people have to work, but it’s a big deal to me. He can play this down all he wants, but it’s a big deal to me, ok? Even if it was a free 5-minute class, it’s a big deal as long as it’s connected to the freeloaders. freeloader-induced activities are a big deal, and it’ll also be a big deal if I have to be put out yet again all cuz of someone’s spite and misconception.

How is it that so many people have had such control over my life? Meanwhile, I couldn’t control another human being like this even if I wanted to, though I don’t want to. I just want to be left alone. But if I misunderstand someone, I just misunderstand them. No harm done to anyone. But with me, it could turn my life upside down if someone misunderstands me.

Why must I be the one to have to pay for people’s stupidity?! I always used to think it best to play down all I knew so I could surprise someone if I needed to use what I knew against them, but now I realize just how important it is to appear alert, receptive and like you know what’s going on, even if you really don’t.

I’m also sick of Tom making me feel worse when I bitch about this shit, too. He’s done nothing but play the situation down and make me feel, in a sense, like I’m a fool to get upset over it or to worry about what else these freeloaders may do.

When I told him I wanted to get rid of the baby males, he got all upset over the money spent on the new cage cuz we had plans to breed. He always gives me a hard time when I want to get rid of animals, but anyway, I told him I would’ve wanted that cage anyway. It’s a much better cage. Besides, we did try to breed Little Buddy and it didn’t work, not that I can complain since Lady was so spastic. The point is, he bitches about money spent on a cage that I love and wanted either way, but the black bitch fee? Hell, that’s just another bill. No big deal. As soon as I bitch about the freeloaders or the state, he’s quick to either defend them or play the situation down and I’m fed up with it. I really am. So, if I get told what I don’t want to hear today, I’m just going to grin and bear it till I can get home and unleash my anger and frustration in this journal.

I wish to hell I could brainwash myself into believing this is all my fault and that I deserve the sentence I got! But even if I were guilty as hell, no one deserves to be thrown in jail for something they wrote, nor should they be left on probation afterward for this long and lose so much money over it. There’s no way, guilty or not, I could ever consider myself a criminal, let alone a stalker. I never “stalked” these sick fucks, nor did I do anything else other than express myself. The only thing I did wrong was that I did resort to words and not actions. And those words were sent to a hateful, prejudiced, emotional wimp who couldn’t handle what I had to say, and she used/abused her connections against me. No one out here deals with people head-on. They cower behind the corrupt law.

God definitely decided I should be born a follower and not a leader. But I don’t want to be either! I just want to be myself. I don’t tell others what to do with their lives and I’m sick of people telling me what to do with mine! It’s not right. It’s just not right and it’s not fair.

It’s still utterly appalling to think that a perfect stranger (Judge H) could sit in judgment of me as he did, and have such a huge impact on me, my life, and Tom’s life as well.

You know what else? I thought about it and said, fuck it! I’m decrypting all my journals. If any pig were to steal them, though I’ll be damned if I’ll submit to “search and seizure” if I can help it, they should read all I have to say about them as well as other shit I’ve written. Let them read it all! I want them to. If they want to take the time and go to all the trouble, they should at least get their reading pleasure out of all this now, shouldn’t they?

It almost makes me laugh when I think of all the legwork the pig and the state have gone through to get at me. And all for a letter. When you think of all the paperwork, the time, etc., it’s just so asinine that it’s almost comical. The state’s probably spent more on paper and ink than we have in the last 8 years just to give the media and whoever else copies of the journals. When I found out on sentencing day that the pre-sentencing guy had written down everything I had said over the phone word for word, I was like, “Oh, my God! All that work? All that time and energy into copying down every single little thing I said when all he had to do was write down the highlights which would’ve been plenty enough to get my point across (not that anyone gave a damn).”

Of course, I’m sure he had to throw in a few words of his own along the way and twist some of mine, too.

“Justice.” Why was the word ever invented? There’s no such thing. Not by people, not by God. The only things there are are competition, spite, control, power, vindictiveness, greed and revenge. It’s all a game in the eyes of all the players but the real victims.

Paula’s so lucky and she doesn’t even know it. Yeah, she called last night. For slugging a pig, she gets a 1-year suspended sentence. All she has to do is report once a month and stay out of trouble so she doesn’t go to jail for 90 days. No one will be coming to her house and she doesn’t have to pay a dime. The $270 fine was waived cuz she’s poor. If she’d have slugged a pig out here, she’d be looking at a huge sentence. She’d probably do 3-10 in prison, then years and years of probation afterward. Having Section 8 and Justin may help her a bit, but not too much.

She gave me her email address. I’ll email her later.

The bulk of the conversation was about what most of our chats are about - her being furious with the Puerto Rican she’s seeing that she thinks is cheating on her.

When she told me she sent two letters over the last couple of months (and I believe her), this really raised a red flag as far as my suspicions about the mail tampering go. My mounting suspicions really worry me. You’ve got Mary, who seems to be missing letters from me. Pérez, who seems not to have gotten my letter, and Paula, who can’t seem to get mail to me to save her life. Some of it is probably made up just to get me to keep on writing her, but she wouldn’t have not written for this long. Something’s going on. But who is it and why are they doing this? I know the PO’s incompetent, but this is a little overkill, and I really wonder yet again if Teddy Bear ever got my letter, though she still could’ve called.

Once again I must ask myself, am I being paranoid, or is someone out to get me? The only one that could be doing this is the pigs and maybe even Scot, too. Maybe they’re looking to see who I correspond with so they can hope to get me thrown back in jail. But if that’s the case, what’s taking so long? How many more letters to and from Mary and Paula do they need? Are they just taking a letter here and a letter there while hoping to find something going to the freeloaders? Is that it? Or could the PO really be that fucked up while Paula tells me nothing but bullshit lies?

Then there’s another possibility. One worse than any meddling pigs. Could Tom be withholding any mail from me? And if so, why? I certainly can’t imagine why he’d do that and it seems highly unlikely, but I know that anything’s possible. I mean, why would he not give me mail from Paula? And if Teddy Bear or Pérez did write, why would he not give me their mail? Would he be that jealous? I doubt it. If it isn’t a case of lies and incompetence, then someone’s looking to get my ass.

Later…

Un-fucking-believable! Scot never even mentioned the class thing. Not a word either way. I was really surprised. Of course he had to comment on how much time I had left. I asked Tom, “Is he really that forgetful, or is he just looking to see if I am?”

“He’s just making small talk. There’s only so much to talk about,” he said.

How about how hot it’s been? Anything else for a change.

Yeah, I know. I sound just like Dureen.

Anyway, I’d rather hear nothing than hear I have to take classes, but it would’ve been even better if I could’ve been told I don’t have to take them so I could be done with it. Instead, I still have it hanging over my head. I think these freeloaders and the shit they cause will always be hanging over my head!

He seemed like he was in a bad mood. Not by anything he said, but it was just something I sensed, aside from his usual cold, impersonal self. This guy needs to loosen up! Then again, as long as he doesn’t fuck me over, he can be Mr. Serious of the Year for all I care.

I told him about the doll-making plans we have. At first he said absolutely nothing. Then he asked how much dolls usually cost and when I plan to get into it.

The letter with the postage due from Mary shed a lot of light on this mail mystery. There is no mystery after all. She did get my letters and the bear probably did, too. That leaves only Paula. Paula, who happens to call right after I said I wouldn’t write till I heard from her. How convenient.

Yeah, I’m now convinced she isn’t writing. If someone was meddling with the mail, why would hers be the only letters they took?

Mary did put extra postage on after all, but the cheap bastards at the PO still wanted their 12 precious cents.

Another favor too, she wanted. She sent pages she tore out from an astrology book and asked me to type them for her. Instead, I just scanned them.

She really likes the idea of my getting into doll-making. She wants a doll with fuchsia hair and purple eyes someday. Yeah, I know she likes those colors.

The few DOs who knew Teddy Bear say they haven’t heard anything about her since she left. Mary still thinks she didn’t deliberately hurt me. I’d like to think that too, but it seems rather obvious that I was blown off by her, whether or not she got my letter and I think she did. The more I think about it, the more I’m pretty sure that the only one playing games with the mail is Paula. I don’t need to number my letters to Mary.

Mary agrees that writing is very therapeutic, and she too, is good at writing sex scenes. I included one for her that I always had when I was alone in 3. One where the bear would lick my pussy or we’d kiss while I’d massage her achy shoulders when she’d stop by on walks.

THURSDAY, JUNE 6, 2002 Mary’s being a pest again. No, not with requests to print her journal excerpts out, but with another postage-due letter. It’s only 12 cents, but it puts Tom out. Besides, how many more times do I have to tell her this?! I mean, are we dumb here, or do we just not get it?

She also wants Tom, since I bullshitted her by saying I tried to visit and was turned away for being on probation, to come down and withdraw $80 from her account to send to her boyfriend Todd in Utah for his birthday. I’m simply going to tell her that I don’t want anyone with my last name at that jail. I can’t take any chances at stirring things up and we don’t know of anyone else willing and trustworthy of doing this. Unless the probation department’s going to come out and demand I do something I can’t/won’t do like stand on my pinky finger all day or divorce Tom, I don’t ever intend to return to Estrella Jail to freeze my ass off while I live on hotdogs and cold showers! And I know damn good and well that God would never allow me the blessing of being able to reside with the same compatible celly month after month after month. I’ll be damned if I’ll go back there and play musical cellies; some of them ok, some crazy, and some rude, loud and obnoxious.

Damn, even at home I gotta put up with inmates’ requests! If she keeps this up, I’m gonna feel used and I’m gonna ignore her just like the bear ignored me.

I also told her that Tom needs to sleep during the daytime whenever possible, but that I could make him a birthday card with my card-making program if she wants.

She feels really helpless being locked up and all, and as I told her, I understand and I do empathize and sympathize with her! I wasn’t locked up during Tom’s birthday, but I was during Christmas.

She’s really got me worried once again that someone may be interfering with my mail to her. Maybe some of my unanswered questions are in the letter that he plans on picking up tomorrow, but she never told me if she got her book excerpts or the pictures I sent. Didn’t she get that stuff? And what about the letter where I mentioned getting paints and a kiln and getting into doll-making? And how about the jail story that I’ve begun sending bit by bit with changed names? It really shocked me when she said she hoped my Teddy Bear story was going along well. The “story” was simply a quick clip that was barely a page long, and that I sent her. Didn’t she get it?

Well, I decided to start saving and numbering my letters to her, letting her know to tell me if she’s ever missing a number. This will hopefully tell me, cuz I really need to know if someone is meddling with my mail so I can then figure out who it is and take the proper means to stop them. Mail tampering is a hell of a felony for real!

As for Teddy Bear, yes, it’s always possible that she didn’t get the letter and assumed I’d forgotten about her as Mary suggested, but I still believe that if she truly cared enough, she’d have called to find out what was going on for sure. If I were her and I didn’t get the letter and I truly cared, I’d say to myself, I changed workplaces, so maybe that’s why the letter didn’t make it to me. Rather than assume she’s blowing me off, I’ll at least call like she told me to in the first place if her letter didn’t make it to me. The worst that could happen is that we don’t see each other. And if I were her and I did get the letter but changed my mind for whatever reason, I’d at least have the decency to call and say something like, “Thanks for the letter and thanks for taking the time to breed the mice, but no thanks. I just wanted to tell you so you wouldn’t be left hanging and wondering what happened. Good luck in life and take care of yourself.”

Like it or not, she’s a phony. I was just a game to her. Just something to pass the time with. She lied to me by saying one thing and doing another. I know we’re not meant to ever see each other again and there’s no use in kidding myself about that. I have to move on and “bumping into her” at work like she suggested would be a bad idea. First of all, I wouldn’t want to see someone who no doubt doesn’t want to see me, and secondly, that would be stalking, and I don’t care to live up to the label I’ve got on me. Her suggestions and support are appreciated, though. Also, she said she hasn’t been able to find out anything on her cuz there are so many new DOs.

I used to complain about criminals/inmates having all the rights. Well, not here in Arizona they don’t! The rights all go to the victims, some of which are real and some of which aren’t, of course. Actually, the rights go to the “minorities.”

I’m totally stressing over tomorrow. I try to tell myself, to relax. It’s just God wanting you to worry. You know he loves to hang you with these freeloaders, so just chill out. Also, he loves to see you worry about one thing after another for no reason at all.

But what if there is a reason to worry this time around? I still can’t know for sure that they’re not gonna make any more unreasonable or impossible requests as I vibed in jail, but like I said a long time ago, I can’t do what I can’t do, and I won’t allow myself to be abused by the system any more than I already have. If he comes out and says these classes are going to be frequent and or costly, I’m gone. I don’t know where I’ll go, but I’ll figure it out. They may not leave me much of a choice. Just like with the freeloaders, one can only be pushed so far. If they push me to put my foot down, then maybe they’ll think next time if they want to make a buck off of someone that bad. They won’t just be losing control over me if they force me to run, they’ll be losing my $40 a month, too.

I’ll bet if one studied the stats, they’d find that the number of criminals, real or imagined, doesn’t fluctuate much out here. Gotta keep things steady to keep business moving. The state uses whatever sources it can to make money. They depend on criminals just as much as the taxpayers. As Gina said at the recycling center, as soon as one leaves, another one comes in.

It’ll be interesting to see how the doll company handles us sending the second doll back. I wonder if they’ll give us back our money, thinking the doll we sent back was the only one we ever got, but I doubt it.

It’s been 20 days since we ordered Joy. I hope she comes in soon! The sooner I get her, the sooner we can find out about the classes if God will let me work for me for a change and not for the state. If they won’t drop this class thing, then I’ll really take that as a sign reminding me that my life doesn’t belong to me! At that point, I won’t bother with classes, if my purpose in life must be to serve others. If God wants me to be a state servant that bad, then that’s just what he may get! I mean, wouldn’t he just love me if I volunteered at the recycling center, which I’d hate, of course.

I was surprised when I saw that I awoke at 124 pounds. I may’ve quit trying to lose weight, but I haven’t gone crazy, either. Then, I turned around and shit 3 times over the next few hours, losing two pounds. So, I guess I was just bogged down in shit.

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 5, 2002 Tom’s coming up on his 7-year anniversary at the bank. Of course, that’s nothing when you consider the fact that he was at his last two jobs for 16-17 years, as he said.

And we’re coming up on our 8th anniversary. Wow! My present to him will be new glasses, and his to me will be those Arab and Brazilian dolls. The fight will be on to get them in 10 days. Which will they be, out of stock, or left to sit on a shelf at the PO for a month? It’ll be one or the other, no doubt. They should get here by the same day as Joy’s deadline - Tom’s b-day, the 28th, but we know they won’t get here till mid-July or maybe even August. The tentative plan is to have this be the last of the mail-order dolls for now, cuz I’m sick of having to fight to get them. Besides, if God could spare me from being a state volunteer, I really want to learn to make my own dolls. I’ll probably still have to fight with the PO, though, ordering parts. Then again, maybe not. Maybe we’ll pick things up from a supplier in Phoenix or maybe even Casa Grande.

I kind of hope the dolls are out of stock so that the PO doesn’t just toss them on a shelf and leave them there till we ask for them. What lazy people they are! It’s so much easier to just toss a box on a shelf and say they tried to deliver it than to just give it to the damn person.

Tom said he’d put this class bullshit out of my mind until and if something happens with it, but that is so much easier said than done! the cheeks told me not to worry about it, too. Yeah, that’s what Paul said - don’t worry. I’m sick of these blacks affecting half the things I do, and when they’re not, I’m worrying that they will! It never fucking ends! When we lived together, they’d be pissing me off with their music, and when they weren’t, I’d be stressing over knowing they could start up again any sec. Now, they turn my life upside down by costing me my freedom and thousands of dollars, and when they’re not, I worry that they will. They’re either directly/indirectly wreaking havoc on my life, or I’m worrying that they’re going to do something more, knowing it’s just a matter of time. I feel like I’m never going to be free of these sick fucks!

Always with me, always with them.

Also, this state’s not gonna give without taking. Meaning, if they decide to give me a break with the classes, they’ll just do something else, like push the work issue, demand more money, or that I go to Casa Grande to piss in front of someone since I haven’t in a year.

I’d like to think that Scot’s word would have a lot of leverage in my favor (by his saying he doesn’t think classes are necessary and showing them my diplomas), being that he’s one of their own, in a sense. After all, they’d never second-guess him if he said he found drugs or guns in here or made up some other bullshit story to get at me if he wanted to be that corrupt, but I think it’s more important to them to control me than to listen to him. Well, I sure as hell hope I find out, either way, this Friday. I want this done and over with, so I can move on to worry about some other freeloader-related bullshit. Either that or so I can be free to deal with whatever appliance decides to break next if it isn’t the car.

Although Scot hasn’t stepped out of line yet and I doubt that he will, I’m still on guard. I’ll forever be paranoid and wary of those in law enforcement, after all, I’ve been through, and I could kick myself for even thinking of getting together with Teddy Bear. How stupid could I have been, despite how good-looking she was?! In more ways than one, for a variety of potential reasons, I’m glad she blew me off. I mean, all Scot has to do is say I slugged him, say he heard me plotting to kill the freeloaders - anything - and there wouldn’t be a damn thing I could do to prove otherwise. Not a damn thing. He’d pay for it eventually, but not without taking me down with him first.

TUESDAY, JUNE 4, 2002 The fucking rats woke me up for the last time last night. No more wheels for them while I’m asleep! Its squeaking was what woke me. I had to take a Benadryl to fall back asleep, so naturally, when the alarm went off at 8:00, I was dog-tired.

I want to maintain a day schedule until Friday the 21st. I’d maintain it just till the 15th if it weren’t for the freeloaders, but the freeloaders say I have to report just one week later, and that might not be enough time to flip my schedule. I should be used to the fact that most of my life comes down to the freeloaders by now. After all, I’m an expert at it. It’s nothing new. It’s been this way since 1996. However, it’s something I just can’t get used to. Maybe in another year.

If only we’d both done our homework up front and known all the facts! If we’d only known what we came to know too late! I’d never have been in jail and I’d never have met Teddy Bear, which would be a good thing, in light of her abandoning me the way she has.

Mary, I could take her or leave her. I wonder why I haven’t heard back from her, though. Hasn’t she had enough time to ask around about the bear’s whereabouts, not that I care anymore, cuz all I know is that Teddy Bear couldn’t have cared the way she led me to believe she did? Whether or not she got my letter, she’d have called if she cared and she didn’t.

Mary never even let me know if she got the stuff I sent her, and again I wonder if someone’s playing games and could be interfering with our mail.

I always believed that public pretenders just didn’t care all that much since they weren’t being paid by their clients, not that they were out to convict along with the DA. Then again, I’ve never been charged with a felony before this, so how was I to know that since public pretenders work for the state and since it was the state that was against me, failing their clients means “winning” for them? Conviction is a victory for them just like it is for the DA. They’re all on the same side.

And if it wasn’t for Tom, I would still believe to this day I went down for the journals and not this letter. Nor would I know about the information Paul withheld from us.

How much longer am I going to let this state victimize me? When am I going to just turn my back and walk away? Oh, how I want to so bad! How I want to show them - see? You can’t always get your way and you can’t push just anyone around. Certainly not me! - But I know that I’d be treated no different than if I’d been a convicted mass murderer who escaped from prison. They’d pursue me as if I were a heavily armed and dangerous person. That means they’d either bust through the door, or they’d throw teargas in here. They wouldn’t consider me a lower priority. They’d put just as much energy and effort into getting at me as they did with Ted Bundy. Then once they got me, I’d probably be looking at close to a decade in prison, then a good 5 years to life on probation once released. Like I said, I’m forced to take this abuse that I wouldn’t deserve even if I wrote them a million threatening letters. It’s just like being strapped to a chair while someone beats on you. There’s just no breaking free!

When Tom was out burning a few days ago, I went out and called to him from about 30 feet away, asking if he wanted a baked potato as I was about to make one for myself. This was in the early evening.

He told me to keep my voice down since voices carry at that hour, so no one would look out to see who was talking, then report us for burning trash.

In the past, I’d have been like, “Oh, you and your silly fears and paranoias! You worry too much about what others may do.”

But now I know better. I know that we must see each and every individual out there as being the potential threat and enemy that they are. Just like animals have to be wary of other animals, we have to watch out for other people. People like Doe and Art would say our attitude sucks, but if our attitude keeps us safer, out of jail and from losing money, we’ll keep our sucky attitude.

There appears to be a new house visible about two properties in front. I can only see part of the top of the house. It looks to be a tan-colored house. I heard what sounded like loud engines around here the other day, but when I looked outside, I didn’t see anything. Well, maybe this was what I heard.

MONDAY, JUNE 3, 2002 I can’t believe that in 6 days I’ll have been here a decade!

Meanwhile, Tom downloaded me a really cool screensaver and wallpaper changer program. This wallpaper changer, unlike my old one, allows me to put as many pictures into a folder for display as I want. It also changes my desktop icon colors to go with whatever colors are in the pictures. Some of the colors are ugly, but I like the surprise of it. It lets me either display pictures in order (usually alphabetically by title names) or random display. I’ve got it on random display.

The screen saver thing works the same as the wallpaper program. It displays as many pictures as I want it to, changing every 15 seconds in random order, but the way cool thing about this one is that I can have it play MP3s too, also in random order.

SUNDAY, JUNE 2, 2002 I decided that little by little, I would go ahead and print these journals out once they’re fine-tuned. That way, I don’t have to worry about lost information. I know that even with multiple backups, stuff can still be lost. I also don’t give a shit anymore who reads these. If you don’t like something I might have to say, that’s your problem.

Still haven’t heard from Paula, so I’ve basically given up on her till I do.

They did send another Chris doll. This time by UPS. That’s who they usually use, but UPS doesn’t deliver to PO boxes. Tom’s going to call them and have them send it back. I definitely want that other fiber optic fairy, though. Fairy of Cork, I think she’s called (some Irish fairy). This one’s a plug-in rather than a battery-operated one. I like how I can turn these things on when I’m going to bed in the daylight, knowing it’ll be dark when I get up. That way, I’m not fumbling around in the dark when I do get up.

Tom says we’re gonna up the ordering of the Arab and Brazilian dolls a month in advance to two weeks from now, cuz we deserve it, as he says. That’ll be my anniversary present, and mine to him will be new glasses.

Which will it be - out of stock or left to sit on a shelf at the post office for a month? It’s gotta be one or the other. God knows I could never get a doll in just 10 business days after ordering it unless it’s one I already got like with this second Chris fairy. That one was right on time, as was the second Giselle doll back in Phoenix, but was the first one, and the Maria doll on time? No, of course not. The only ones to come on time were the Ashton-Drake dolls, but that’s only cuz they take such a long time anyway.

I slept an amazing 13½ hours last night. Now why in the world did I need so much sleep? Was I really that tired? I guess so. I certainly have been busy. Been busy online and worrying, God’s favorite pastime for me. And like most things in my life, it always comes down to the freeloaders and what trouble they may cause me. The only difference is that any havoc they may wreak upon me since we moved is done indirectly rather than directly. Sometimes I don’t feel like probation is probation, but rather an extension of jail. How many more weeks am I gonna have to sit and wonder what they’re gonna do about this class bullshit? I just want to know and get it over with! Then I can get hit with the next problem or at least potential problem that these freeloaders are gonna cause.

I’m so sick of having to pay for other people’s stupidity (referring to whoever felt my reading comprehension skills were low unless they just threw that in as an excuse to have one more thing to control me with)! It seems like most of Tom’s and my suffering are due to the consequences of others misunderstanding us. We spend way too much time correcting other people’s mistakes or getting ripped off.

I hope Joy will be in this next coming week, cuz my schedule would be perfect for it. Then we can get information on the classes and hopefully get on with that without the state interfering with any more of our time or money.

I accidentally came across a wallpaper site that has something like 22 million pictures, so that’s what I’ve been busy with. They have a huge variety of awesome pictures, most of which are high res. They’re calling the prairie dogs here desert gophers.

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