#fired from a job

[remembertheplunge]

These word, wishes tied to earth by ink

12/25/2023

Te following is taken from the calendar book “The Tibetan Book of Days”. 

In the book, I chronicle my last grueling days at the Stanislaus County Public Defender’s office. And, the days just after I was fired on August 29, 1997.

The following entry from the book was written on the last page of the book. The page is entitled DECEMBER and includes spaces to write notes for December 28-31.

I , instead, included the following entries dated September 9, 1997 and September 15, 1997. Since I wrote it on this December page, I reference December in my opening line. Truly, this time was the Deep Dark December of my life up to then.

So, following is the entry:

September 9, 1997

We sit now in darkening December.

We generate our own warmth.

Our own light.

In their world, I am a Pariah..

In my world, I am a man with dignity and even an odd kind of serenity.

Life takes care of life.

The above entry is followed by the continuation of the 9/15/1997 entry begun two pages prior:

In my psyche, it all still plows along. It’s like their long cold grey world is part of my own, a reality.

It’s like, in a dream, when Mom came and knocked on my door and told me to get upland to see—to come with her out the front door of her Atwater home. She said, very concerned “The last girl is dead”. I thought, “What last girl? I sensed a young asian Cambodian girl, or, did she mean her sisters? I got up to follow her. I had no shorts or glasses on, but, as she reached the doorway part of the hall, she disappeared. I woke up. The dream seemed so real.

Just like the memory of that job from hell. After 10 solid years, it feels like it’s still here. It’s ugly, grotesque, humiliating demands, still here.

It’s OK to let them linger as long as they need to. Make a soft space for them, long time tenants.

Remember, however, they are not real…the job, like the dream, gone. Over. Done.

In the mean time, while you nurse these aching memories, mend sails. 

Like Herman said “You’ve got time now….””Use it productively”.

My definition of productivity includes “healing time, healing activities. Continue soul study projects. The perfect time. This time is actually precious.

These words, wishes tied to earth by ink, will be a fascinating read!  How did he pass through this incredible time?

End of entry

Note:

My Mother had six sisters. She was the youngest, born in 1930. My mother and all of her sisters have now, as of 2023, died.

I was raised in the house in Atwater from 1959 when we moved in when I was 4 to 1973 when I left to go to college at CSU Chico, Chico, California. 

Herman was probably Richard Herman, a fellow criminal defense attorney in Modesto 1997.

[leisi-lilacdreams]

[mirrorama]

estimate! and say you currently still work at your first job, just choose how long you’ve been employed. i also understand there might be some nuance as far as maybe like promotions/transfers/etc etc etc, so feel free to explain things in the tags!

[catcrumb]

[raycatzdraws]

Wolfie and Four friendship appreciation doodles! They're shared secrets besties! I hope Four's distrust of the shadow crystal doesn't drive anything between them. Wild found his way into this compilation with a force. It seems I can't draw Wolfie and not include him too!

[the-rainbow-of-doom]

(This post was sponsored by a 1+ hour commute)

[thepeacefulgarden]

[xieliancore]

what has hector ever done to me?

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #61 part 1

Danny didn’t like thinking about his old life. He was born to a family of assassins and as soon as he was out he never looked back. He had to fake his death and he changed his name, as far as anyone knew Damian Al Ghul had died on a mission to America. He was determined to keep this secret to the grave. Of course he knew who his dad was, Bruce Wayne was a prominent figure and he knew if we went there his secret would get out and he never wanted to be forced to be an assassin again. Once was enough. 

Danny knew he had a soft heart, his adoptive parents, the Fentons and Jazz had told him so. Jazz knew he didn’t have the greatest childhood or past but she never pried, she understood his business was his and wouldn’t let her own curiosity get the better of her. The only issue their family had was their parents obsession with ghosts. Damian never believed in ghosts, the entire thing sounded like a hoax. He probably never would have believed in them but then life happened. 

Danny believed, but it was kind of hard not too after everything that happened. When he had turned 14, his parents finished their biggest project yet. A portal to the ghost zone, of course it doesn’t work at first and his parents were very disappointed. Danny felt conflicted about the whole thing. On one hand he wanted his parents to succeed and he wanted them to be happy, on the other the portal was the reason he ate alone with his sister at night. He wanted a normal family life, something he was never allowed back at the league. 

He did something so stupid that night.

After his parents along with his sister were asleep, he crept down to the basement and stood in front of the empty hole in the wall. He looked around the outside of it first but nothing seemed to be out of place. Then he stepped into it and before he got too far into it something happened. He knew there were a lot of cords on the floor and thought he had avoided them all, but as he realized he was quickly being acquainted with the floor, he out of instinct held his hand out to catch himself on the wall. Right onto the ON button.

He didn’t remember much but pain after that.

A lot happened in the year after the portal was turned on but Danny thought he was taking things well. His sister found out about everything sooner than he liked but having someone to help him was something he didn’t realize he really needed until then. The ghost attacks were frequent and Danny was having trouble finding the time for school, friends, and fighting ghosts that the assistance helped a lot. 

Danny sat at as desk in Mr. Lancers class, who was going on about the play Hamlet. Danny was only half paying attention, he was preoccupied thinking about the latest conversation he had with Clockwork. Danny was recently crowned prince after his victory over Pariah Dark. He didn’t want the crown, ancients knew what Grandfather would do if he ever found out, but he had no other option but to accept. The conversation left him rather drained and it felt like every word his teacher spoke bled together. 

He eventually made his way to lunch and before he could make it to his destination a blue mist wafted out of his mouth. Sighing he ran out of the room to find a place to transform. Once he was Phantom he wasted no time finding the ghost. Of course it was Boxie. 

Before he had time to even fight though a portal opened up right besides Danny and he was kicked in by the Box Ghost. The world seemed to swirl around him until he landed harshly onto some pavement. The pavement was a roof and he appeared to be in a city. 

Not just any city he soon realized as he looked over to a bank that had the words ‘Gotham Bank’ brightly plastered on the front.

Shit… Danny wanted to avoid something like this, unfortunately the portal was already gone. 

After taking a moment to think about his predicament he decided the best course of action was to call Jazz.

He took a look around the rooftop he was on and when he didn’t see anyone he transformed back. 

Pulling out his cell from his pocket he pulled up his sister's contact on it and hit the call button. 

His sister took a bit longer than usual to answer but the hesitation in her voice caused him to pause, “H-hello?”

“Jazz, it’s Danny, we’ve got a code green,”  he knew setting up code colors with his sister would come in handy. Red meant he was gravely injured, yellow meant the ghost got away and he was in pursuit, blue meant he caught the ghost, and green meant he fell through a portal or something similar. 

There was silence on the other line for a moment and Danny was almost going to say something else but she spoke, “How do you know my name?”

Master Post:

Next:

[isbergillustration]

Having a normal regular evening, no unexpected or ominous guests at all

[iamespecter]

Some idiot said that my colorblind Caine art was, and I quote, "it's got an AI feel to it" and I've never felt the need to obliterate a random ass stranger with a concentrated energy cannon blast from outer space

if anyone wants visible proof that it's not AI for some reason, here's proof of the sketch and unrendered state (because I keep backups in case I want to overhaul)

[remembertheplunge]

My name is Lew Wentz.

I am a 69 year old gay criminal defense lawyer. I have been keeping journals for 47 years as of September 14, 2024.. I am writing a book based on the journals.

I came out as a gay man in 1984. I was married to a woman then. I left the marriage after telling her I was gay.

My younger sister, Zoe, who I was very close to, died rather suddenly of pancreatic cancer in May of 2023. She gave me permission to blog the last two weeks of her life. Those blogs run from May 1 to May 14, 2023.

I journaled my journey through the turbulent 1980's and 1990's. During that time, I was pretty vocal about being gay. I volunteered to help people with aids through their illness and death. And, I believe because of this, I was fired from my job as a deputy Public Defender in Modesto California. I also documented the 12 year relationship I had with my partner, Jim, who died in 2009.

I wrote pretty much daily about these events and many others. I never intended for the entries to be made public. But, I now think they should be, as they weave what I believe to be our common story of what it's been like to be out, human and gay in the past four decades.

And, as I journaled, I developed ideas and ways to journal and wrote about them in the journals. I discuss the impact journaling has had on me. And, the amazing revelation reviewing journal entries for the blog and book of just how incredible our lives have been. Memory fades. The journal details do not.

My hope is that , after reading the blogs, and maybe some day the book, you too will become addicted to journaling. Your life on paper will amaze you down the line.

My blog became one and one half years old on August 5, 2024.

[premamelody]

derg

[gonkaccino]

Season 4 hope/prediction: Deb's show is solid, zero issues, runs flawlessly with great ratings, but her personal life is completely eroding. We start with her discovering Marcus is leaving, and it culminates in DJ going into labor right before a taping. Deb chooses the show. When it's over, and she finally flies to Vegas, it's too late -- Aiden's not letting her in because he loves his wife too much to let DJ get into a shouting match with her mom right after giving birth, and instead takes the brunt of Deb's wrath, with her making excuses and talking about how they used her money for IVF, and anyway, DJ's fine, so who cares if she wasn't there? Kathy's in the room with DJ and the baby (DJ's the closest she has to a daughter, after all) and Deb leaves too furious to think about how badly she's hurt her family.

She heads back to her Vegas mansion -- empty, obviously, Josefina and the dogs would be in LA -- and pops open a bottle of wine. Alone. Completely alone. Can't call Marty, she has no friends, the closest she's got would be Kiki and wouldn't that be embarrassing, calling your poker dealer to talk about your feelings --

and then Ava's there. She got the news about DJ's labor, she got the story from Aiden (who was distraught, by the way, man's too much of a sweetheart for Vance drama), a spare key from Damian (happy to pawn that off on her, though if it isn't returned promptly he's taking legal action) and has arrived just in time to see the Deborah Vance having a breakdown the likes of which no one thought physically possible. Crying gives you wrinkles, you know. But Ava has to be here. She's the physical embodiment of a lesson Deb never truly learned: you don't have to like someone to love them.

In my imaginary fantasy land that I am concocting this would then subsequently lead into them fucking nasty but I understand that this may be a step too far for the surprisingly large number of very normal people who watch this show and would forgive JPL for not taking it that far. However I do believe they should fuck about it and let Ava take the reigns in their relationship while they see how many of Deb's bridges they can un-burn.

[sircantus]

I genuinely cant sit through miscommunication plots or like. Stories where the character is so clearly laying lie on top of lie on top of lie in such a gritting-your-teeth-oh-no kinda way, like. Why is this enjoyable. Why is this funny? They are lying to everyones faces and its not even usually for a good reason its usually bc said character wanted to continue to look good or theyre trying to gain something or I DUNNO. SOMETHING SELFISH. Maybe if it was a DECENT reason like “oh im trying to protect someone” maybe ok start building the tower of lies i guess but NO its never even a good reason its always STUPID and USUALLY COULD BE FIXED IF YOU JUST STOPPED LYING BADLY

[kibutsulove]

A sozin holding an infant azulon that I will eventually color