#for people so woke some are really blind to the same things being done

[arilevenatz]

You are

Pairing: pirate!jongho x town girl!reader

Genre: fluff

Word count: 9.6k

Warnings: Violence, kidnapping, abuse (not done by the boys) minor character death, jongho is a shy baby, lmk if I missed any!!

AN: I feel like screaming. This has been in my drafts for more than a year when the 'Everything' MV came out. The MV broke me and I was a crying mess. If y'all couldn't tell, my bias is jongho and I have seen that there are not that many good jongho fics in any platform. So I have taken the initiative. (Even tho idk if it's good or not) Anyway if y'all wanna be tagged just reply with your @ . AND please reblog and like it helps me a lot. I kinda fucked up the ending so y'all are free to imagine whatever the fuck y'all want

Nassau, an island which was claimed by the crew of Halazia. The ship was giant and very beautiful as well.

One slight issue,

It's a pirate ship

The pirates of the Halazia are the most feared of them all. They are known for not having any mercy towards any ship they come across.

Yes, even the ones with a white flag.

But Nassau is an island which is owned by them, so it is common for the people living near the harbor to see them come and go.

I, however lived further in the town, so I have never really seen them. Not that I want to as well. I'm scared they might kill me.

Though I doubt that will happen cause they have never really killed any innocent here in Nassau. Not that I've heard that is.

Waking was hard. Going to greet the family was harder. Answering their dumb questions was the hardest.

They say the youngest kid is always the most loved of them all. Not in our case.

We are big on family. And the worst part? We all live in the same plot, but in different houses. Me, being the youngest child in the house, I'm a personal punching bag.

Stuffs like "your brothers are doing so good, you need to follow them aswell" and "your brothers and sister have taken majors in science, you will too I hope" were normal to me.

Ever since I was young, my mom taught me.

If you wanna live in this house without getting called out every time, you have to fake a smile. Please everyone, child. Because of your father, you have to please everyone.

That was then, but now she has changed. She was forced to do so by these monsters in the name of people. I kinda miss her…

I heard my name being called. Looking at the source I saw my mom.

"I know you just woke up but, can you go to the port market and get us some things?"

"Mom, I just woke up..."

"Listen to your mom kid"

I looked at the source, great, my other aunt. Blinded by the pride of marrying a rich doctor, she thinks she is the head of the family, although she is the youngest sibling of my dad.

"yes yes, she will go, won't you kid?" her eyes pleaded to me, not wanting her child to be scolded in the morning.

"yes ma"

I took the money and left.

Being the youngest, I was always called "kid" or "child". It's weird I know, but i don't even care anymore.

The market's a bit far. I have to cross a little outskirt of a jungle. Though I don't have to cross the jungle, it's still a bit scary. But it's dawn, so it's alright right now.

After the jungle, a little walk by some alleyways and then it's the market!

The market was one of my favorite places to be in. Just look at it! It's so lively and colourful. It's so nice that it can make me forget about home for some time.

Ok let's check the list of items. Chili powder, parsley, biscuits and rum.

Hah! That stupid uncle of mine! How can he make a young girl like me buy alcohol early in the morning?!

I eventually got all the supplies and also got the rum. The shopkeeper was my dad's and uncles's friend so he gave me the rum I wanted, but I doubt he would've if he didn't know me. I mean come on, who gives alcohol to a young girl?!

"That will be ten bronze kid"

I handed him the money when suddenly I heard a high pitched laugh

"jongho, at least try to bargain once in your life! Do you or do you not want to save money??"

Looking in the direction, I saw two men. One has black hair, the other one has black and white hair.

What a strange hair colour...aren't his parents dissapointed?

Both of them are dressed in big tunics and black leather pants. The tunics loosely tucked in their pants.

"shopkeeper-nim, can we get this rum?"

The oreo guy handed the shopkeeper a note, seemingly a list.

"No mates, the last one was taken by this lady here"

He pointed at me. Damn dawg why you gotta throw me under the bus?

It was now when the two men looked at me.

"Aren't you too young to drink?"

"Land Ahoy!!!!"

The booming voice of the first mate who is also the quarter master, can be heard from below the deck. He had just spotted an island. Their island,

Nassau.

Beautiful island, with beautiful people and beautiful owners.

hehe

"Mingi, drop the anchor!"

"done!"

"captain, we need to scavenge", the quartermaster and first mate of Halazia, Seonghwa stated to their captain, the one and only, Hongjoong.

"I'm aware. Is the scavenger team ready?"

"I have already concerned Wooyoung, him and his team are ready to go"

"Good"

"Captain!"

The captain and quartermaster flinched by the voice of the surgeon.

"San! You unruly swine! What if the the captain got scared and let go of the helm?!", the quartermaster scolded the younger guy.

"Seonghwa do you mean that I get scared by small things?"

The two of the other males in the room nodded.

"all of you are scared cats"

"Bitch-"

All three males in the room flinch by the sudden intruder.

"Yunho, do you want me to order Yeosang to cut of your hair in your sleep?"

"Captain it was a joke!!"

"Anyways, captain, I came here to inform you that Mingi needs materials to fix the ship, however, he has work to do, so someone has to go on land with Wooyoung to get the supplies", San, the surgeon states.

The captain has now successfully ported the ship and now can let go of the helm. He turned to his crew and told them to follow him. And he went towards the maindeck.

"Send Jongho. He does not have any work for the time being"

"ok!"

San sprinted away almost in a comical way while muttering something which sounded suspiciously like a "smooth operator~"

The battlemaster was in the arms locker. The giant locker was home to weapons for the battlemaster as well as guns for the master gunner, Yunho.

The battlemaster, Jongho, was busy cleaning his swords. Call him a clean freak but he needs to clean all his swords and cutlasses. Not because he is a clean freak, it's cuz a certain someone will scold him if he does not.

"Do you wanna build a snowman?"

"San are you a child?"

The first mate gets inside the locker and sits beside the younger male.

"I am not, but I know a certain someone is though"

"You swine"

The crew of the Halazia is known as the scariest crew outside, but inside the ship, they all are one braincell sharing idiots.

"Anyways, captain ordered you to do to port and get some stuff with wooyoung-ie" The younger boy looked at the first mate with his boba eyes. "what stuff?"

"mingi needs some stuff to repair the broken and probably for his new invention and shit"

"Ok then”

“meat, coriander, honey, alcohol and maybe some broccoli for the soups"

"Wooyoung, why do you need alcohol? Are you gonna drink again?"

The cook of Halazia, wooyoung and the young battlemaster, jongho are set out for an adventure, an adventure to find the specific kind of alcohol for the surgeon of the ship, San.

"What? No! I am getting it because Sanie asked me to!

This morning, San had barged in the kitchen and asked wooyoung to get a special kind of rum, which helps to clean cuts.

Yeah the young boys have no idea how to find it…

"aren't you too young to drink?" jongho asked the girl they just came across in the shop.

The girl didn't say anything and just stayed silent.

"jongho-ya you scared the poor girl"

"No I did no-"

"you can have it"

Both the males looked at the young girl. She has her hand out and in her hand resides the rum bottle.

"You can have it"

"No no we ca-" jongho was cut of by wooyoung. "sure we'll take it! How much was it again?"

"ten bronze"

Wooyoung handed the girl ten bronze and was about to take off, but jongho held him back feeling guilty. I mean come on, the girl probably had her own hardships buying it, and then she got harassed by his hyung.

The younger guy went and handed 5 more bronze. The girl merely looked at his hand confused.

"sorry, he is just immature"

The girl however still remained silent and immobile.

Jongho waited a few seconds and then took the girl's hand and placed the coins there.

"thank you and...Sorry"

The girl looked at the coins and then looked at him. And then she said "I don't need these extra coins, but in return, you both have to go and buy the alcohol for me”

They do it for the girl. The two men are now inside another store, away from the previous. This store is the only other store which sells alcohol here in the port market. But the owner of this shop doesn't know your dad or uncle, so he will not give alcohol to her as she's a girl. So she cleverly asked the two men to go inside and buy it for her.

Wooyoung hands you the additional bottle of rum with a dramatic flourish, a smirk on his face. "Here you go, little one. Consider this our way of helping you out." He smiles at me, while Jongho looks on, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

You look at him giving you two bottles when you asked for one. “I only needed one tho.....”

"We added one more. Consider it a gift from us. Just... don't tell anyone we did this, alright? We'd be in real trouble if anyone knew” Wooyoung said as he put the bottles in your bag properly. You nod at him slightly.

Wooyoung smiles slightly at your nod "Smart girl. And hey... what's your name? I'm wooyoung, that's jongho. Seems like Nassau's been tough on you, hasn't it? If you ever need anything else-"

jongho slightly nudges him to stop and get back to work. He gently pushes Wooyoung aside before he can offer any more unsolicited kindness to the girl. The last thing they need right now is rumors spreading about us befriending locals.

Jongho shoots Wooyoung a warning look before turning his attention back to you "Remember what we said - keep quiet about this. And stay out of trouble, yeah? Nassau's not safe for little ones like you-" he catches himself realizing how condescending that sounded "-Like-”

“Little ones?” You were offended. You hated when someone called you little. It triggered you so much. You family calling you ‘kid’, ‘child’ was enough, you don't need these two weirdos calling you little.

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly "You know what I mean. Young. Innocent. Uninvolved in pirate life. Just... be careful, alright? We don't want anything happening to anyone”

You wanted to ask why they were so interested in pirate life but they were already turning back.

As Wooyoung and him walk away, jongho can't shake the feeling that he has made things awkward between them and the girl. He glances back over his shoulder, noticing her standing there, holding the extra bottle of rum like a precious treasure. "Woo, did you see that?”

Wooyoung follows his gaze, a thoughtful expression on his face "Aye, I did. She's a tough one, ain't she? For a little thing, she's got guts." He pauses, then adds in a lower tone

"And she's got a way of getting under your skin, too. Mark my words, Jongho - that girl's going to cause us trouble one day." He chuckles to himself, but there's a hint of seriousness beneath his words.

"Let's just hope it's the good kind of trouble.”

Back in the ship, the surgeon, San runs up to them, asking them what took them so long. Woo replied "we had to fight a little girl for the last bottle of rum”. San raises a concerned eyebrow.

“In what world do ‘little girl' and ‘rum’ co-operate in one sentence? That sounds highly inappropriate”

Jongho sighs and shakes his head disapprovingly at Wooyoung's exaggeration. "Don't go spreading tales now. We weren't fighting anyone." He glances at San with weary eyes. "Just... ran into a stubborn lady on an errand.”

San raises an eyebrow skeptically, but his lips twitch in amusement. "'Stubborn lady,' huh? Sounds like someone's been distracted by pretty eyes and a cute face." He teasingly pokes Jongho in the ribs.

Wooyoung covered his mouth with his hands dramatically and replied "no wonder he was not cold but gentle towards the girl. I knew you had it in you!”

Jongho rolls his eyes, trying to maintain his composure despite San's teasing. "Shut it, San. It's not like that. We just didn't want any trouble, that's all." He shoots Wooyoung a warning look, silently telling him to keep his mouth shut.

But it was true, he felt that those eyes held sadness. He has seen war, he has been in dilemmas and has fought with his inner urges. He knows what loneliness looks like. and he saw that in those girl's dull eyes. He stands on the deck watching the sunset paint the sky in fiery hues, but he can't help but replay the encounter with the girl in his mind. The ache in her eyes, the defiance in her stance - it echoes the battles he's fought within himself.

He remembers the way the girl stood her ground, refusing to back down even when faced with two grown pirates.

As the captain, Hongjoong managed more than just his crew; he also oversaw a network of loan sharks. These were the people he trusted with his money, providing them the means to distribute loans in exchange for a share of the profits. Now, it was time to settle. A meeting with the loan sharks of Nassau was pending, and Hongjoong intended to reclaim what was rightfully his.

Rather than meeting on neutral ground, Hongjoong and Seonghwa decided to summon the loan sharks to their ship. It was a calculated move, one that ensured the meeting would take place on their terms and under their control. (Hot men)

The captain’s quarters were cold and dark, the flickering lantern casting shadows across Hongjoong’s features. Seonghwa stood by the door, arms crossed and expression hard, his presence as commanding as the captain’s. The loan sharks shifted uneasily before them, knowing this was not a meeting to be taken lightly.

The lead shark hesitated before speaking, his voice shaking slightly. “Captain, there’s been… a complication.”

Hongjoong leaned forward, his eyes cold “A complication?” he repeated, his voice low and dangerous. “Explain.”

“A man we loaned money to—he fled,” the shark stammered. “Disappeared without paying a single coin. He left behind his wife and daughter in Nassau.”

Hongjoong’s jaw tightened, his fingers curling into a fist on the table. “And you let him run?”

“We didn’t know he would,” the shark blurted out, his words tumbling over each other. “He seemed reliable, Captain. A merchant with steady work. But one day, he was gone, just like that.”

“And the family?” Seonghwa cut in, his tone sharp and unforgiving.

“They’re still in Nassau,” the shark admitted. “The wife claims she doesn’t know where he went, and they’ve got nothing left. No way to repay the debt.”

Hongjoong’s gaze darkened. “You mean to tell me you came here with excuses, no money, and no solutions?”

The shark shrank back, sweat glistening on his forehead. “Captain, we—we thought we could pressure the wife. Maybe—” He hesitated, but Hongjoong’s glare pushed him to continue. “Maybe take their belongings or… use them to draw him out.”

The room fell silent. Seonghwa stepped forward, his voice like steel. “Use them?” he echoed, his lips curling into a cold smirk knowing what his captain will suggest next, “You’re suggesting we drag a woman and her child into this mess because you couldn’t do your job?”

The shark flinched, his voice barely a whisper. “It was just an idea.”

Hongjoong stood, the sudden movement making the shark jump. He leaned across the table, his voice venomous. “Ideas like that will get you killed. You don’t lay a hand on them unless I give the order. Do you understand me?”

The shark nodded frantically, his face pale. “Y-Yes, Captain.”

“But you will go back,” Hongjoong continued, his tone playful but colder now. “You will visit the wife, and you will remind her that the debt doesn’t disappear just because her husband ran. Make sure she understands this is her last chance to cooperate. If she knows where he is, she had better start talking.”

“And if she doesn’t?” the shark asked hesitantly.

Seonghwa’s smirk widened, but his eyes remained icy. “Then you make it clear what happens when people cross Captain Hongjoong. Let her know the weight of the debt will fall heavier if her husband doesn’t show his face soon.”

Hongjoong straightened, his eyes burning into the shark’s. “You don’t come back empty-handed again. Bring me the man, or bring me something of equal value. Do I make myself clear?”

The sharks nodded in unison, fear etched into their faces.

“Good,” Hongjoong said curtly. “Now get out of my sight.”

As the door slammed shut behind them, Seonghwa glanced at the captain. “You think the wife knows something?"

“If she does, fear will make her speak,” Hongjoong replied coldly. “And if she doesn’t, it’ll push the coward into the open. Either way, we get what we’re owed.”

He thinks for a second and then says “ you know what, I don't trust these parasites. Send a mule after them, give me every detail of what they do from now on”

The shark’s anger simmered as he stormed through the winding streets of Nassau. Hongjoong’s threats still echoed in his ears, and his humiliation burned deep. To him, the blame lay squarely with the woman and her child.

“They’ve made fools of us,” growled the shark, his fists clenched. “It’s her fault the captain’s breathing down our necks. If we can’t touch them, we’ll make sure she understands what it means to cross us.”

When he reached the small house with two of his acquaintances, they found it quiet and dimly lit. The lead shark pounded on the door with enough force to make the frame rattle. After a moment, the door creaked open, revealing the wife. Her face paled when she saw the sharks, but she held her ground.

“What do you want now?” she asked, her voice strong but trembling.

The lead shark sneered, pushing the door open wider. “Your lies have caused us enough trouble. We’re done playing games.”

She took a step back, clutching the edge of the door. “I’ve told you everything I know. My husband is gone. I can’t give you what I don’t have.”

Another shark, a burly man with a cruel glint in his eye, stepped forward. “Your daughter—where is she?”

“She’s not here,” the wife said quickly, fear flashing across her face. “She’s out.”

The lead shark smirked, leaning closer. “Good. That makes this easier.”

Before the wife could react, the sharks forced their way inside. She stumbled back, panic flooding her as they loomed over her.

“You’re coming with us,” the lead shark said coldly.

“You can’t do this,” she stammered, her voice breaking. “We’re not hurting you,” the burly shark replied with a twisted grin. “We’re just taking you somewhere else to have a little… conversation.”

Despite her protests, they grabbed her arms and dragged her out of the house, their grip firm but not brutal. She screamed and struggled, but no one was there as they hauled her through the streets and into the shadows of Nassau.

____

You push open the door to your house, expecting the usual comfort of your mother's voice or the warmth of a home filled with the scent of a meal being prepared. But instead, there was silence.

“Mom?” you call out, your voice echoing slightly. You set down the basket of bread and vegetables, but there’s no answer. The quiet stretches on, oppressive, like something’s wrong.

You move through the house, checking the rooms one by one, but it’s empty. There’s no sign of her. Panic starts to creep into your chest, tightening with each passing moment.

As you were looking, you felt someone cover your mouth in a vise-like grip as you trie to claw at him. His thick mustache curls upwards in a cruel sneer. "And what do we have here? The little birdie come back to her nest?”

You try hard to free yourself.

“You think you can run from us?” he sneered, shoving you forward with enough force to stumble you. “You and your mother have been causing enough trouble, little girl. But don’t worry, we’ll make sure you both learn your place soon enough.”

You kick his knees and manage to break free. Just as you reach for the door handle, a large hand cracks across your face, sending you stumbling down. Pain explodes across your cheek and you fall to the floor, dazed and crying. The man looms over you, his fist raised for another blow. "You little brat!”

"Stop!" The lead shark's voice barks out sharply, staying in the second man's hand mid-air. Through your terrified tears, you see him approaching you, his heavy boots thudding against the wooden floor.

“We don’t need more bruises on this pretty little face yet,” he says, his voice almost… amused. His hand lifts, but instead of striking, he just touches the side of your face, his fingers cold and rough against your skin.

You wince, instinctively trying to pull away, but his grip tightens, holding you in place. “Listen closely, little bird,” he continues, his voice dark and low. “We need you to understand something. Your father’s debt? It’s a problem. And we’re not leaving here until we get our money back.”

Your stomach churns at the mention of your father. You try to keep your voice steady, but it cracks. “I don’t know where he is.”

“Yeah, we know,” he replies with a dry laugh, his grip loosening just a little. “Your father’s a coward. He runs and leaves you two behind to clean up his mess.” He leans down, his face just inches from yours. “But that doesn’t matter. Captain Hongjoong’s been clear. We take what’s ours. And you?” His smirk widens. “You’re gonna help us make that happen.”

His words make your blood run cold. Hongjoong. You’d heard of him—his name was spoken with fear and respect, but never this way. They’re using your family as leverage, a pawn in their game, all because of your father’s debt.

“They need you to make sure your father gets the message,” the lead shark continues, standing back up, pacing slowly around you like a predator. “We can’t hurt you… yet. But we’re going to make sure you’re a reminder. Captain Hongjoong is waiting for results. And if that means bringing you along to make your father see reason, then that’s what we’ll do.”

Hongjoong sat in his quarters, staring at the report he had just received from the mule. His eyes narrowed as the words settled in. The sharks had gone against his direct orders, overstepping their boundaries, and now he had to deal with the consequences. The anger bubbled inside him, a sharp, cold rage that left no room for hesitation.

He stood up, the weight of his frustration pressing on him. He couldn’t allow anyone to defy him, especially not when it came to matters as serious as this. The sharks had been sent to handle the situation, to get back the money they were owed—but they’d taken it too far. Taking the girl and her mother? That wasn’t part of the deal.

Seonghwa, who had been standing nearby, watching his captain closely, didn’t need to ask what was wrong. He’d seen this side of Hongjoong before—when his calm, controlled demeanor slipped, and the storm beneath came to the surface.

“Prepare Jongho and Yunho,” Hongjoong said, his voice low but filled with authority. “I want them to investigate. I want to know exactly what those sharks did, and I want them to fix this. I’ll have no one undermining my orders.”

Seonghwa nodded, turning to leave, but Hongjoong stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Make sure it’s handled quietly,” Hongjoong added, his gaze steely. “We don’t need any more attention than we already have. And if they’ve done something unforgivable… make sure they know who’s in charge.”

Jongho, the Battle Master, was known for his strength and discipline. He’d follow orders without hesitation, but it was his ability to keep a level head in intense situations that Hongjoong trusted most. Yunho, the Master Gunner, had a sharp eye for details and a quick wit. Together with a few loyal crew members, they’d get to the bottom of this—and if the sharks had crossed a line, they’d deal with it swiftly.

Jongho and Yunho stood by the edge of the ship, the salty breeze tugging at their hair as they discussed their next move.

Yunho crossed his arms, leaning against the railing. “So, we’re going to investigate what those sharks did… and if they’ve really messed up, we’re supposed to clean up their mess?” He raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Jongho, standing beside him, shook his head with a chuckle. “Seems like it. I don’t think Captain Hongjoong’s happy that they went rogue. Taking the girl and her mother? That’s a whole new level of stupid.” He sighed, glancing out at the horizon.

“I mean, we’re talking about a bunch of thugs who can’t follow orders. What’s next? Are they going to steal the moon?”

Yunho snorted. “If they tried, I’d pay good money to see it. But seriously, jongho, this is a mess. We’ve got to figure out how to handle this without making it worse. The last thing we need is a full-blown war with the sharks because they couldn’t keep their hands to themselves.”

Jongho chuckled darkly. “Yeah, because Hongjoong’s ‘fixing problems quietly’ approach works out so well, right?” He paused. “Let’s just hope these sharks haven’t completely pissed him off. I don’t think even we could smooth things over if he’s really that angry.”

He then grinned. “I’ll make sure to bring some extra bandages, just in case.”

Yunho shot him a sideways glance. “What, you think we’re going to knock some sense into them with our fists?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Jongho replied, giving him a smile. “Though, I prefer it when the problem just gets solved with a good ol' conversation. You know, like ‘Hey, don’t take the girl, or I’ll break your legs.’”

Yunho let out a dry laugh. “Sounds like a great ‘conversation’ to me.”

He then smirked at jongho and said, “But you know, I’m always ready to put some holes in bastards. Let’s get to work.” (See what I did there? ⁠ ͡⁠°⁠ ͜⁠ʖ⁠ ͡⁠° )

The air was thick with tension as Jongho and Yunho made their way to the den. They had gathered all the intel they needed and were now ready to end this. The sharp tang of saltwater in the air mixed with the musty, oppressive smell of the building, and Jongho’s grip tightened around the hilt of his sword.

“You ready?” Yunho asked, his voice low, scanning the area.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Jongho replied, his tone steadier than he felt. They moved quickly, slipping through the shadows toward the back entrance of the den. The door creaked open under Jongho’s steady push, and they silently entered.

Jongho and Yunho moved like shadows, circling around the room, eyes scanning for the girl. The moment their eyes met, Jongho felt his heart stop. There she was—tied to a chair, her head lowered. Her breathing was shallow, and her hands were bound tight, but she was alive. She looked up at him, her eyes widening.

Jongho felt his chest tighten. He was shocked. Not because this was her. The same girl he had seen in the market, and now here she was, in the middle of this chaos, helpless. But because he still remembered her vividly. He has never remembered anyone's face other than ill intent. This made his heart do something he didn't like.

He was about to rush forward when Yunho grabbed his arm. “Stay focused,” Yunho muttered, his eyes scanning the sharks. “We’ll get her, but we need to take them down first.”

Jongho nodded, his heart racing. He knew Yunho was right—they couldn’t let their guard down. The sharks were too dangerous, and they had to be neutralized quickly.

In one fluid motion, Yunho drew his gun and fired, sending one of the sharks crashing to the ground. The noise startled the rest of the men, and chaos erupted. Jongho lunged forward, his sword cutting through the air with precision. Each swing was met with resistance, but he wasn’t slowing down.

The fight was quick but brutal, the room filled with the sounds of swords clashing and bodies hitting the ground. Jongho’s eyes searched the girl, and as soon as the last shark was down, he rushed to her side.

“Hold on,” he said, his voice softer now, as he cut through her ropes. She winced slightly as he freed her wrists, but she didn’t say a word—her eyes were locked on him, full of both fear and relief.

“You’re safe now,” Jongho said, his heart pounding as he helped her to her feet. But as he looked down at her, his heart skipped a beat. Her face was streaked with dried tears and blood, she had a busted lip and a bloodied injury on the side of her head. He realized then that this wasn’t just about the mission anymore. There was something about her that tugged at him, something deeper than just a rescue.

She looked up at him, her voice barely a whisper. “Who are you?”

Jongho smiled softly, trying to mask the sudden rush of emotions flooding through him. “Jongho. Battle Master on Captain Hongjoong’s ship.”

Her eyes flickered with recognition. “You… you were at the market.” She hesitated, her voice uncertain. “You… you’re a pirate? Of the Halazia”

Jongho nodded, his heart tightening. “We’re here to get you out of this mess. But right now, we need to move fast.”

She looked around, “But my mom-”

“Yunho will take care of that”

Before she could respond, they heard footsteps approaching. Yunho’s voice was low and urgent. “Jongho, we’ve got to go, now!”

Jongho took her hand gently, pulling her toward the door. As they ran, he couldn’t shake the feeling that his heart had just made a decision he wasn’t sure he was ready for. He had come here to do a job, to rescue her and get out. But somewhere in that chaotic moment, he realized he wanted to protect her.

The door slammed open, and they ran out into the night. Behind them, the sounds of pursuit echoed, but Jongho didn’t care. He would protect her. No matter what it took.

You settled back into the familiarity of home, the creaking of the old wooden floors and the comforting hum of the market outside grounding you after the chaos of recent events. Life was quiet again, though a bit lonelier now. Your mother busied herself with building a shop, leaving you to wander between chores and stolen moments of peace.

Life aboard the ship was as chaotic as ever, but lately, the crew had found a new source of amusement—or annoyance, depending on who you asked.

“Jongho, will you sit down already?” Seonghwa groaned, throwing an exasperated glance at the younger man pacing the deck.

Jongho ignored him, his brow furrowed in thought as he muttered to himself. “I haven’t checked in on her in over a week. What if something’s happened? What if someone’s bothering her again?”

“Again with the girl,” Yunho drawled, leaning lazily against a barrel. “You’ve mentioned her three times today already. You’re worse than Hongjoong’s parrot.”

“Worse than his parrot?” Yeosang, the navigator, asked as he descended from the helm, a sly grin spreading across his face. “Now that’s saying something. I didn’t think anyone could top its constant squawking.”

“Maybe the parrot’s jealous,” Mingi, the boatswain, chimed in as he carried a coil of rope over his shoulder. He dropped it near the mast and turned to Jongho, his grin matching Yeosang’s. “Sounds like it’s got competition for Jongho’s attention.”

Hongjoong, seated at a small table nearby, raised an eyebrow but said nothing. He sipped his drink with a smirk, clearly enjoying the rare sight of Jongho being the center of everyone’s teasing. "I didn't even take my money from her for you"

"captain aren't you like one of the richest people in the 7 seas?" Someone grumbled.

“It’s not like that,” Jongho said firmly, shooting Yunho a glare before turning to Yeosang and Mingi. “She’s been through enough already. Someone has to make sure she’s alright.”

“Someone?” San chimed in, his grin wide. “Or you?”

“Let’s be real,” Wooyoung added with a dramatic sigh. “You don’t just want to make sure she’s safe. You’re attached. Admit it.”

“Sounds like attachment to me,” Yeosang agreed, leaning against the railing with an amused expression. “You’re practically obsessing.”

“I wouldn’t call it obsession,” Mingi said, tilting his head thoughtfully. “It’s more like…” He paused for dramatic effect, his grin widening.

“Infatuation.”

Jongho stopped pacing long enough to shoot them all a sharp look. “I’m doing my job. Protecting her is my responsibility.”

“Protecting her,” Seonghwa said, drawing out the words mockingly. “Or is it something more?”

“I don’t love her,” Jongho snapped, his tone final.

The crew burst into laughter, the sound echoing across the deck. Even Hongjoong let out a low chuckle, finally setting his drink down.

“If you don’t love her,” the captain said, leaning back in his chair, “then stop pacing around like a lovesick puppy. You’re throwing off the entire crew."

“Yeah,” Yunho added with a grin. “Even the parrot’s giving you side-eye at this point.”

Jongho opened his mouth to retort but found no words that would convince them otherwise. Instead, he huffed and crossed his arms, retreating to his post with an annoyed scowl.

Yeosang exchanged a glance with Mingi before smirking. “He’ll realize it eventually,” he said quietly.

“Or we’ll keep reminding him until he does,” Mingi replied with a chuckle.

As the laughter died down and the crew returned to their tasks. Jongho didn’t love her, he told himself. He was just… concerned. That was all. Yes, that's it.

It had been weeks since you’d last seen Jongho. You told yourself you shouldn’t expect him, that he had his own life aboard the ship, filled with duties and battles you couldn’t begin to imagine.

But some small, stubborn part of you always found your eyes drifting to the road outside, hoping to catch sight of him.

And then, one evening, as the sky blushed with the soft hues of sunset, you heard it—the measured, confident sound of boots against gravel. Your heart leapt before you could stop it, and you quickly wiped your hands on your apron, glancing toward the door just as his familiar silhouette appeared.

“Jongho,” you said, trying to sound calm though you could feel your pulse racing.

He nodded, stepping into the doorway. His eyes swept the room, taking in the tidy shelves and the faint scent of freshly baked bread. “Everything alright?” he asked, his tone steady, the same question he always asked.

You smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “It is now. Come in.”

He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing the invitation, but eventually stepped inside, his presence filling the small space effortlessly.

You poured him tea, the silence between you familiar and strangely comforting. He didn’t say much—he rarely did—but his quiet presence was enough. You found yourself telling him about the shop, how business had picked up again, and how you’d repaired the shutters just last week. He listened intently, his gaze steady, his attention making you feel like your words mattered.

When he finally rose to leave, you felt a pang of disappointment, though you didn’t say anything. He paused at the door, glancing back at you.

“I’ll check in again,” he said simply.

You nodded, your smile soft but genuine. “I’ll be here.”

And then he was gone, the sound of his boots fading into the evening air. You stood there for a moment, staring at the empty doorway, your heart inexplicably lighter.

You didn’t know why he kept coming back, and maybe he didn’t either. But you found yourself looking forward to his visits, to the way he made you feel seen and safe in a way no one else ever had. For now, that was enough.

The air outside buzzed with excitement, the faint sound of music and chatter from the central town festival reaching your small home. You stood at the window, peeking out at the vibrant colors of the decorations that dotted the streets beyond your view.

The door creaked open, and you turned to see Jongho stepping inside. His usual calm demeanor was in place, though his eyes flicked over you briefly, taking in the faint spark of longing in your expression.

“There’s a festival in town,” he said, his voice low but steady.

You nodded, brushing your hands on your skirt. “I know. I’ve always wanted to go, but…”

Your voice trailed off, and you glanced toward your mother, who stood nearby, watching the two of you.

Jongho followed your gaze, his brow furrowing slightly. “Why not?”

Your mother sighed, folding her arms. “She’s young, and festivals can be crowded, chaotic… dangerous. I can’t let her go alone.”

“I’ll take her,” Jongho said simply, as though the decision had already been made.

“You'd do that? Take me there?”

“Why not?”

Both you and your mother looked at him, surprised. He met your mother’s gaze evenly, his tone firm. “I’ll make sure she’s safe.”

Your mother hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line. Finally, she nodded, though she still seemed unsure. “Alright. But don’t let her out of your sight.”

A rush of excitement and nervousness bubbled up inside you as you grabbed your shawl. “Thank you, Jongho,” you said softly, your smile warm and genuine.

---

The town was alive with color and energy. Lanterns hung from every building, their soft glow casting a warm light over the cobblestone streets. Stalls lined the roads, selling everything from sweets to trinkets, and performers entertained small crowds with music and dancing.

Jongho stayed close to you, his presence a steady anchor in the lively chaos. His hand hovered near your back, guiding you through the crowd without a word.

“Where should we go first?” you asked, looking up at him.

He glanced around, his eyes scanning the stalls and performers. “Wherever you want.”

“I don't know, you choose”

“We can do whatever you want”

You look down a bit and think. You'd never been given choices. They were always made for you. You always felt pressure whenever someone said to choose something and at the end you just keep saying ‘whatever you want’.

You grinned, feeling a rare sense of freedom. Tugging gently on his sleeve, you led him to a stall selling candied apples. He didn’t protest when you bought one for yourself and insisted he try one too, but he informed you that he can't have sweet things.

You went around stall from stall, that's when you spotted a beautiful earring in one of the stalls. It was completely your style and pretty. You kept looking at it, that's when jongho noticed you looking somewhere.

“Where are you looking at?”

You look back at him and smile, “nothing.” Maybe I can ask mom to buy these next year, if we can come.

As the night went on, you wandered from one attraction to another. You laughed at a juggler’s clumsy tricks, marveled at the intricate designs of hand-painted fans, and even managed to coax Jongho into trying his hand at a ring toss game.

He didn’t win, but the sight of him concentrating so intently on the simple game made you laugh until your sides hurt.

“You’re enjoying this too much,” he muttered, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward in a faint smile.

“Maybe,” you teased, feeling more at ease with him than ever before.

When the night sky filled with stars, the two of you found a quieter spot on the edge of the festival grounds. You sat on a low stone wall, watching the festival bustling with people even though it was pretty late at night.

“Thank you,” you said after a while, your voice soft.

Jongho turned to look at you, his expression unreadable in the dim light. “For what?”

“For taking me here,” you said, meeting his gaze. “Looking out for me. You didn’t have to, but… it means a lot.”

He was silent for a moment, his eyes studying you. Then he nodded, his voice quiet but firm. “It’s no trouble.”

Back at the ship, Jongho returned to the bustling crew. The festival had left him with a strange feeling, one he couldn’t quite place.

“You’re back,” Yunho said, leaning against the mast with a grin. “How was your little outing?”

“It was fine,” Jongho replied curtly, brushing past him.

“Fine?” Wooyoung piped up, sidling up with a mischievous glint in his eye. “That’s all we get? Come on, did she hold your hand? Laugh at your jokes? Look at you like you’re her hero?”

“Wooyoung,” Jongho warned, his tone low.

But the teasing only grew as San joined in. “Admit it, you enjoyed yourself.”

Jongho shot them a glare that silenced most of their laughter, though their knowing looks didn’t fade.

He didn’t understand the pull he felt toward you, but one thing was clear: he would keep protecting you, no matter what. Anything beyond that… he wasn’t ready to think about it

The next time Jongho visited your home, it was early evening. The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting golden light over the small house. You were outside, tending to the small garden by the porch, when you noticed him approaching.

“Jongho,” you greeted, brushing dirt off your hands as you stood. His posture was straighter, and his hands were tucked behind his back.

“Hello,” he said, his voice calm as always, though his eyes briefly flickered down to the dirt smudged on your cheek.

“What brings you here?” you asked, tilting your head curiously.

He hesitated, glancing over his shoulder as though ensuring no one was watching. Then, clearing his throat, he brought his hand forward to reveal a small cloth-wrapped bundle.

You blinked at it, unsure of what it could be. “What’s this?”

“Just take it,” he said, his tone gruff, though he avoided your gaze as he extended the bundle toward you.

With a curious smile, you untied the cloth, your breath catching as the fabric fell away to reveal a pair of delicate earrings. They were simple yet elegant, their small gemstone pendants glinting in the light.

Your heart skipped a beat as you recognized them. “These… these were at the festival,” you murmured, tracing a finger over the smooth surface of one gem. “I saw them, but—”.

“You were staring at them right? That day?,” Jongho interrupted, his voice firm but quieter now. “Figured you might like them.”

Clutching the earrings tightly in your hand. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know,” he replied simply, meeting your gaze for a moment before looking away, almost as if he were embarrassed. “It’s nothing.”

“It’s not nothing,” you insisted, a soft laugh escaping you. “This is… this is the nicest thing anyone’s done for me.”

Jongho shifted awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Don’t make a big deal out of it. Just thought you’d like them.”

Your fingers gently traced over the smooth gemstones on the earrings, the delicate sparkle catching the fading sunlight. “But…” you hesitated, looking up at Jongho, who stood there with his usual calm demeanor. “Aren’t these expensive?”

He tilted his head slightly, an almost amused glint in his eyes. “I’m rich,” he said matter-of-factly, as if that explained everything.

You blinked at him, surprised by his bluntness. “You’re what?”

“Rich,” he repeated, his tone steady, though there was the faintest hint of humor tugging at the corner of his lips. “Why does that surprise you? I'm part of the richest pirates in the seven seas. Do you not know?”

“I mean… you’re on a ship all the time,” you said, flustered. “You don’t exactly seem—”

“Seem what?” he cut in, raising an eyebrow.

“Like someone who’d buy earrings for a girl,” you finished, your cheeks warming.

Jongho crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. “I didn’t buy them for just anyone. I bought them for you. That’s different.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you clutched the earrings tighter, suddenly unsure of what to say.

“I told you, it’s no big deal,” he continued, his tone softening slightly. “You liked them, so I got them. Don’t think too much about it.”

You smiled despite yourself, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and something else you couldn’t quite name. “Thank you,” you said again, your voice quieter this time.

He nodded, the faintest trace of a smile on his face. “You’re welcome.”

As he turned to leave, you couldn’t help but call after him, “So, how rich are we talking?”

Jongho paused, glancing over his shoulder with a smirk that was so subtle you almost missed it. “Rich enough to buy the earrings and not think twice about it.”

You laughed softly as he walked away, your heart lighter than it had been in a long time.

Unknown to you, the poor boy had gone through the torment of his 7 brothers, who won't leave him alone. They teased him so much about the earrings that he almost almost threw one of them overboard.

The crew was always quick to notice anything out of the ordinary, and had clearly picked up on Jongho’s latest visit to your home.

“So,” Yunho started, leaning casually against a barrel as Jongho walked across the deck, “we heard about the earrings.”

Jongho paused, his jaw tightening slightly. “What about them?”

“Oh, nothing,” Wooyoung piped up, barely containing his grin. “Just that our stoic Jongho has a soft spot for a certain someone.”

San joined in, throwing an arm dramatically around Jongho’s shoulder. “You know, if you’re going to buy her gifts, why not go all out? Maybe a necklace next time? Or a whole jewelry set?”

Jongho shrugged off San’s arm, his expression unimpressed. “It was just a pair of earrings. Don’t make it a big deal.”

“A pair of earrings,” Seonghwa repeated, feigning shock. “Do you know how much effort that is? Choosing the right ones, paying for them…”

Yeosang, who rarely joined in on the teasing, leaned against the railing with a faint smirk. “I’m just curious how long it took you to pick them out. Did you stare at the stall for an hour?”

“He probably scared the vendor,” Mingi added, his laughter booming across the deck. “Standing there, glaring at the earrings until they wrapped them up for him.”

Even Hongjoong, who had been silently observing from his chair, chimed in with a sly smile. “So, Jongho, how does it feel to be the romantic of the group? Should we start calling you the ship’s Cupid?”

Jongho’s patience was clearly thinning, but his expression remained steady. “I’m not romantic. I just thought she’d like them. That’s it.”

Wooyoung clutched his chest dramatically, staggering back. “He thought she’d like them! Oh, it’s worse than we thought—he’s thinking about her!”

“That’s enough,” Jongho said firmly, though the slight pink tinge to his ears betrayed his frustration.

Yunho, ever the instigator, leaned closer with a mischievous grin. “You know, Jongho, if you keep this up, we might need to start a fund for all the gifts you’ll be buying her.”

Jongho shot him a sharp look. “You’re all lucky I don’t throw you overboard.”

The crew erupted into laughter, thoroughly enjoying themselves at Jongho’s expense. Despite his annoyance, Jongho couldn’t fully suppress a faint smile as he turned and walked away.

As the teasing continued behind him, one thought lingered in his mind: he didn’t regret buying the earrings, no matter how much they made fun of him. If it made you smile, it was worth every ounce of ridicule.

The laughter and teasing aboard the ship gradually subsided as the crew prepared for their next voyage. Supplies were loaded, sails checked, and the familiar hum of activity filled the air. But this time, there was an unspoken heaviness among them. They were leaving the port—and there was no telling when they’d return.

Jongho stood near the railing, his gaze fixed on the horizon where the town lay, now bathed in the golden light of the setting sun.

“She’ll be fine, you know,” Yunho said, walking up beside him and leaning against the railing.

Jongho didn’t respond immediately. His grip on the wood tightened slightly, his eyes scanning the distant rooftops as though he could catch a glimpse of you from here. “I know,” he said finally, though his tone lacked conviction.

Yunho chuckled softly. “You’re terrible at lying, Jongho. Especially to yourself.”

“Leave him be,” Seonghwa said, passing by with a small smirk. “He’s just sulking because he can’t buy her more earrings from the next town.”

“Maybe we should’ve taken her with us,” Wooyoung suggested with a mischievous grin, appearing on Jongho’s other side. “At least then, Jongho wouldn’t be moping around like a kicked puppy.”

Jongho shot him a warning look. “She’s safer at home.”

“True,” Mingi chimed in as he approached, slapping Jongho on the back. “But are you safer without her?”

The others burst into laughter, their voices carrying across the deck, but Jongho remained silent. His thoughts were already elsewhere—back at the small house where he’d left you.

Now, as the ship’s anchor was lifted and the sails unfurled, Jongho couldn’t help but glance back one last time. The town grew smaller in the distance, and with it, the little piece of peace he’d found there.

Everything had to come to an end, he reminded himself, but this end felt heavier than he’d expected. Even as the ship carried him further from the port, his thoughts lingered on you—on your quiet strength, your laughter, and the way your smile had made the world seem just a little brighter.

For now, all he could do was focus on the journey ahead and trust that fate would bring him back to you someday.

Their journey had been long and unpredictable, filled with danger, discovery, and the relentless pursuit of fortune. From navigating treacherous waters to encountering rival ships, every day aboard the ship demanded resilience and wit.

They'd charted unknown territories, bartered with distant towns, and clashed with pirates in battles that tested their mettle. The crew thrived on the adrenaline of their adventures, though the weight of uncertainty often hung over them.

For Jongho, the journey was a blur of responsibility and restlessness, his thoughts occasionally drifting to the little house by the port. Each victory and challenge brought them closer to returning, though they never knew when that day would come.

Now, after years away, the ship had finally docked, and their travels were behind them—for now.

The town felt both familiar and distant as Jongho and the crew disembarked after years at sea. Jongho’s eyes instinctively searched the streets, scanning for any sign of you. The house came into view quickly, and his steps faltered. It looked well-kept, the garden vibrant and alive, and the faint scent of baked goods wafted from an open window.

As he approached the door, he noticed a subtle change—a sign hung near the entrance: “Homemade Goods & Repairs.” His brow furrowed, curiosity rising.

He knocked lightly, and a familiar voice called out, “One moment!”

When you opened the door, your expression lit up instantly. “Jongho!”

You were different, older somehow, with a confidence in the way you stood. Your hands were dusted with flour, and there was a smudge of it on your cheek. But your smile was as bright as ever, and seeing it eased something in Jongho’s chest.

“You’re back,” you said warmly, stepping aside to let him in. “I wasn’t sure I’d see you again.”

“I didn’t expect to see this,” Jongho replied, motioning toward the bustling shop area. Shelves lined with jars of jams and pastries occupied one side, while the other side displayed tools and items neatly organized for repairs.

You chuckled, wiping your hands on your apron. “After my mom passed, I needed something to keep me busy. The shop helps, and it keeps me connected to the town. I do alright.”

Jongho nodded, glancing around. The place had a sense of order and life he hadn’t expected. “You’re running this by yourself?”

“For now,” you replied, smiling proudly. “The town’s been good to me. They keep me busy enough, and I like it that way.”

Jongho’s gaze lingered on you, and he couldn’t help but notice the resilience in your tone. You weren’t the fragile girl he’d left behind. You’d grown, thrived even, despite everything.

“You’ve done well,” he said quietly, his voice tinged with admiration.

Still, his heart felt heavy as he considered what lay ahead. The ship wouldn’t stay docked for long; it never did. His life was the sea—a life of unpredictability, danger, and adventure. But standing here, surrounded by the quiet hum of your shop, he wondered if there was room for something else.

“You’ve made a good life for yourself,” he said finally, his voice quieter than usual.

You nodded, leaning against the counter. “I have. It’s not always easy, but it’s mine.”

A silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken questions. He broke it first.

“I can’t ask you to leave this behind,” he said. “You’ve worked too hard to build it.”

Your brow furrowed as you studied him. “And you’re not ready to leave the sea.”

He shook his head. “That's all I’ve ever known.”

You stepped closer, your hand brushing against his arm. “Then don’t. You don’t have to choose, Jongho.”

He looked at you, confusion flickering across his face.

“You come and go,” you continued. “The sea is part of who you are, and I wouldn’t want to take that from you. But when you’re here, this can be home. If you want it to be.”

Home. The word hung in the air between you, and for the first time, Jongho felt a sense of calm he hadn’t known he was searching for.

“I don’t deserve that,” he said, his voice barely audible.

You smiled softly. “Maybe not. But it’s here anyway.”

Jongho was silent for a long moment, the weight of your words settling over him. He wanted to say more but wasn’t sure how. He wanted to ask you to come with him, to leave everything behind and sail with him, but he knew it wouldn’t be fair. You had your life here, and he couldn’t ask you to give that up for the uncertain life he led.

But then, without thinking, the words left his mouth, surprising even himself.

“Marry me.”

You froze, your eyes wide with shock. Jongho instantly regretted speaking before he’d thought it through. But he couldn’t take the words back now, and he didn’t want to.

He cleared his throat, trying to explain. “I know it sounds sudden, and I’m not asking you to give up your life here, but…” His voice faltered. “I don’t want to keep going back and forth, not anymore. I want you to be with me, always. Even when I’m out there on the sea. We could make it work, I know we could.”

You stared at him, your heart beating fast as you processed his words. The shock began to wear off, replaced by something warm and steady. Jongho had always been a protector to you, but hearing him say he wanted more—that he wanted to be with you no matter what—stirred something deep inside you.

You took a deep breath, the weight of his question settling on your chest. “Are you sure?” you asked quietly. “This isn’t just about wanting me close when it’s convenient for you?”

He shook his head, stepping closer. “No. I want all of you. Even when I’m gone. You’re the only thing that’s ever made me think about staying.”

You met his eyes, feeling the sincerity in his words. There was no doubt in your mind. “I’m not going anywhere,” you said, your voice steady now. “If you’re asking me to be part of your life, even with all the uncertainty, then yes. I’ll marry you.”

A smile spread across Jongho’s face, relief flooding through him. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this certain about anything. Without another word, he pulled you into a tight embrace, the promise of the future settling between you like a quiet promise.

The sea might still call to him, but now, he had something far more important to come back to. And this time, it wouldn’t be just a visit—it would be home.

[aszles]

since my first pinned post had a tierlist of csm characters, i decided to redo it as a tierlist of Fujimoto works instead! (i had only read csm when i made this sideblog) it's a lot less ever-changing so i feel a bit safer keeping something like this at the top of my blog lol...

within the tiers there is no specific order, they're just the things i happened to put in first. if you wanna make one here's the template! (made by yours truly)

because i'm a nerd you can read my opinions about each work below the cut~

S TIER

Chainsaw Man - i mean, csm is just awesome. in all honesty, this manga has changed my life. i KNOW that sounds silly and corny but it's genuinely true. i have been able to get past a lot of my struggles and develop so much as a person since starting this manga. as a fun bonus i feel like i've finally started improving my art again (or at least changing it enough to feel fresh) after like 3 years. i can't really describe how much csm has done for me, but if i had told myself from 2021 that this would happen i would never believe it (especially because i had written off this series for some personal reasons...lol) but yeah. i think i'll forever be grateful for what Chainsaw Man has done for me.

Look Back - i think Look Back is seriously the best piece of media i have ever experienced. i don't think i have ever seen a story so beautifully crafted as this manga, it made me sob when i read it. i remember having to move the manga away from myself so i wouldn't get tears on it. at the time of writing this i am SO SO excited to watch the movie, whenever that will be. i will cry and throw up watching that thing LOL.

Nayuta of the Prophecy - ok maybe i don't TECHNICALLY believe this is an S tier work, but Nayuta is just such a lovable character that i can't possibly rank her any lower. Fujimoto was right to adapt her into csm because she deserves it!! however despite that, this oneshot is the only one that i genuinely wish he would make a sequel to. i think oneshot Nayuta and csm Nayuta are pretty different, so they still don't feel like the same character - i would love to see oneshot Nayuta's personality and relationship with her brother continue to develop!

A TIER

Sisters - one of the few other works i had heard anything about before i started exploring Fujimoto's other stuff, and i definitely felt apprehensive about it. but wow, the fact that Fujimoto is able to take the concept of "girl non-consensually paints her sister naked and it gets displayed on the school wall for everyone to see" and NOT make it weird is crazy! a sweet oneshot that i enjoyed, and love the nuance that was able to be created in such a short amount of time.

Woke-Up-as-a-Girl Syndrome - a really cute take on a silly trope that can often be handled... oddly. i love how much the characters in this really feel like teenagers, doing stupid things but being completely earnest all the while. (Spoilers) i really like how it ends with Toshihide being adamant that he is still male, and also Rie still loving him as he is. very sweet!

Love is Blind - it's no wonder Fujimoto won an honourable mention for this, it's such an adorable and funny oneshot. i was giggling the whole time reading it! i don't really have much to say about it, but i definitely enjoyed it.

Fire Punch - i don't really know where to start with Fire Punch, but wow. it is seriously so impressive to me how good Fujimoto is at tackling such sensitive topics, not shying away from them while also clearly not glorifying them. i also think a big place where Fire Punch shines is character relationships, especially Agni and Togata. they fucked me UPPPPP. it goes off the rails a bit near the end, but i also never got the feeling that it WASN'T what Fujimoto intended with this series. i may not quite get the ending, but it didn't ruin anything for me and i think the rest of Fire Punch is really good at what it does. plus the art is AWESOME ?????

B TIER

Goodbye, Eri - ohhh people might not like me for this one... i'm sorry guys, i just honestly didn't get this manga. i'll definitely reread in the future (me and my sister still haven't finished our sticky notes to read it blurry/clear) but for now i can't rank it any higher. i didn't feel much reading it, and the ending definitely confused me a lot lol. love the art though!

Shikaku - this one's interesting! i thought the story was quite cute, and Shikaku herself is completely adorable. though Yugeru is ummm... not my type let's say. i also do wonder if Makima took any inspiration from Shikaku - she looks similar to her, which to be fair for Fujimoto works probably doesn't mean much (as a lot of his character's look similar to each other /pos), but a clearer comparison is both characters presenting eyeballs they stole from people. (also... if Makima is inspired by Shikaku, is Barem then inspired by Yugeru? yuck) anyways just my speculation, back to the point. the reason this doesn't make its way into A tier is because to me it doesn't really feel like a Fujimoto work? i'm not sure why, but yeah.

C TIER

Mermaid Rhapsody - this one's definitely cute, but as a result of Fujimoto trying to create a "normal story" it unfortunately loses all of the charm of Fujimoto works!! i want it to be weird and fucked up damnit!!!!! though he did succeed in his goal of creating a normal story, so i can't complain too much lol.

Sasaki Stopped a Bullet - i don't have anything against this oneshot, but i think it just doesn't particularly appeal to me. unfortunately nothing in this story grabbed me

D TIER

A Couple Clucking Chickens Were Still Kickin' in the Schoolyard - it's no real surprise this is here, considering it's Fujimoto's first work. overall it was pretty cute, but i'm not all that into aliens..? not much to say lol

if you read all this then thank you >_o

[hannahssimblr]

I’m on my bed, fully clothed, and I cannot remember how I got here. I don’t know if I’m sitting up or lying down, or what is wall and what is ceiling. When I try to turn to my side, the room twists like a funhouse around me, the bed tilting like it's intent to slide me right off it. Am I alone? I think so.

That's my phone, the bright square of light. It lays on the sheets beside my face, and I grab it. Her name is right there. It's intuitive, too easy to find. 

It rings three, four times, and she picks up. “Jude?” She's sleepy. I woke her. 

“I’m sorry Michelle,” I slur, and I mean to be sorry for disturbing her, but she seems to assume that I’m apologising for much more than that.  

She sighs, “I know you are, and I’m sorry too.”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yeah. Are you drunk?”

“Uh huh.” I should likely be sorry for that too. 

“Where are you? Why are you drunk dialling me?” She doesn’t seem annoyed with me, concerned, hopeful, maybe, so I tell her the truth, “I miss you.”

I assume maybe I’ve passed out or somehow hallucinated this entire exchange because she's not responding, but then she sucks in a lungful of air and her voice trembles, “I miss you too, I wish you were here right now.”

“No, I was a bad boyfriend.”

“You weren’t.”

“I was the worst.”

“Not always.”

“...It's hard being on my own.”

“Yeah, for me too. Every single day has been horrible.”

I feel the kind of crushing, exaggerated sadness that I only ever do when I’ve had too much to drink, like I’m tumbling into a pit of despair so deep that the sun will never warm my face again. I can't think of a good reason why I have done this. “Sometimes I don’t want to go to Berlin,” I tell her hoarsely.

“Yeah,” she says, then hesitating like she wants to choose her words carefully, “You know that you don’t have to go, though.”

“I dunno.”

“You could stay in Dublin if you wanted to, It’s not too late. If the thought of leaving makes you too sad.”

That sounds deeply depressing, but being on my own is depressing too, and then I’m so frustrated that I fear I will start crying or something, “I can’t think.”

“You’re just drunk, but I think you’re saying this because it’s what you really mean.”

“Maybe.”

“I love you,” she says, and I hear her sitting up in bed, struck with urgency, “I haven't stopped feeling the same way about you, I still love you, and I want you to stay, if you're even considering it at all then that means-”

“Alright,” A group of guys pass by on the road outside, boisterously chanting some tuneless song and I’m conscious that I, or whoever brought me in here, never closed the curtains. I don't want other men to see me like this, and yet I'm unable to move.

“‘Alright’, as in, you’ll stay?” She says hopefully. 

“No, like, that I heard you.”

“I think we’re supposed to be together.” 

I wonder if she really believes that. Do I believe that? Maybe. “Mm. Maybe I’ll stay,” Sleep pulls at my eyes, which now rest unfocussed on a shimmery patch of sand outside the window. In the distance the waves roar against the shore, a lullaby. Sleep encroaches the corners of my vision and begins to suck me under. 

“Please,” she says, really crying now, “I don’t want to be on my own. I’ve been imagining you finding someone else and falling in love with them and it makes me feel sick.”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

A sniffle, “No?”

“No, I don’t ever think about other people, just you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Never ever ever. You're my girl.”

She sobs gently.

“Shell, I think I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not, you just made a selfish decision. You can still fix it and make it okay.”

My eyes are too heavy and the world is too weird and dizzy looking to keep them open, “Will you forgive me?” I manage with the last of my energy, but I’m too sleepy to listen to her answer. I pass out in three seconds, the phone warm in my palm, the speakers buzzing gently with the sound of her voice.

In the blinding light of the morning, though my head pounds and every colour and pattern is an assault on my senses, before doing another thing, I grab my phone from my pillow to see new messages from Michelle. I don't read any of them.

Hey.

I type.

I was really drunk. Disregard anything I said, I don't even remember what we talked about.

Beginning // Prev // Next

[soodoonimin]

Wade Wilson and the self:

So I’ve stated before I’m not Deadpool’s #1 fan BUT I am reading some of his comics alongside Wolvie's so I thought I’d give a character analysis a shot. This is going to be shorter than my Logan one because unfortunately I’m just not as in tune with the character, I’m super sorry but I hope it’s still good! :)

Some imagines are kind of graphic and gross so beware.

Dear Wade Wilson,

Who are you? No really who are you? Because as you may already know you’ve had many writers over the years, your character has changed drastically in the 33 years you’ve been ink on a page. So who are you?

Deadpool is an enigma, except for the fact that he isn’t. He both is and isn’t a good person. He’s someone who keeps a blind elderly woman hostage in his apartment and someone who talks teenagers down from the literal ledge. He is actually a pretty smart person depsite the million different ways he acts like a complete dumbass.

So here’s what I find kind of funny (sad) about Deadpool. He seems to also believe himself to be a monster (which is something we talked about with Logan) but the difference is between Logan and Deadpool is also where they’re the same and this little bit about him comes up a lot. See Deadpool had a little more of a fighting chance than Logan when it came to living a "normal" life but because of circumstances outside of his control he was walked down the path he currently finds himself on and when he actually realized where he was and what he was to people, he was utterly mortified by it.

People react to these kinds of things diffrently and that reaction isn't static, it can change over time. For Wade I think his general view on his situation is kind of mix of nihilistic and absurd. And he regularly toes the line between caring, not caring and doing whatever for the lols. (of course this depending on who writing him bc Wade does change a lot depending on the writing BUT I think that just fits so well with his character).

Wade uses humor to distract from his pain (both physical and emotional) but I also kind of think that him being annoying, him letting people hate him is just a way he punishes himself for just existing. It's easy and it requires very little work on his part and in a weird way it gives him an excuse to not care about the world.

Especially because he believes he's not really a person, because he believes he's a comic book character.

And so I have this HC about him and his 4th wall breaking abilities. See, I don't think the reason he's “crazy” is because of the torture of the Weapon X (or weapon plus or whatever) program or because of his cancer. I think Wade is crazy because when he finally "woke up" and saw what was had happened to his life, when he saw what he'd become and all the terrible things he did, I think that's what what broke him. Because I think that for all the terrible terrible things Wades does/has done he is still a good person to some extent, he still has a good heart and so imagine you're a kind person, who looks back one day and you see all the terrible things you've done. All the people killed. Everything. How do you cope with that exactly? Well if. you're Wade Wilson, I think first you start by adopting a world view that makes those realities easier to swallow and two I think you stop believing in reality.

I think him breaking the fourth wall is in a way him disassociating into our reality the same way many of us disassociate into his. That's how he's able to have that connections with us but because we're unable to respond to him and because he can't *actually* see us it does very little to comfort him.

What worse about this though is he doesn't really have much if any connection with the people around him. Like yes, he does have his daughter and his friends but the things is, its impossible for him to truly connect with those people in his life because he doesn't see himself as worth that love.

So specifically in the WW3 comic I think the reason he picks Logan as the person to help him is because he kind of already knows Logan doesn't like him BUT he can't help but feel this kind of kinship with the mutant and he know Logan is a genuinely good person and wouldn't just leave him to die. It's a little manipulative but he's desperate.

The thing is (especially in that comic) he doesn’t see how him and Logan are different.

See Logan’s “monster” is more or less, real and it's something he had no control over. His mutation (the very thing he fears) would have always come to disrupt his life, would have always made him a monster in the eyes of others if not himself and so in some ways, Logan was set up for failure at the start.

Wade on the other hand is different in that like all of us he made choices (that were yes heavily influenced by bad circumstance) and there is a possibility that had he his childhood been significantly better or not gotten diagnosed with cancer, he may have walked a less destructive path. The “monster” that he'd become might not haven't never existed because there isn't anything wrong with Wade and there isn't anything about Wade (that doesn't have to do with the Weapon X program) that people would have any reason to inherently hate.

As it stands though, he knows he’s done bad things and although he knows he can’t make up for them, he also doesn’t know how to forgive himself, I doubt he'd even want to if he knew how. In the WW3 comic he almost spells out that he feels like a lesser version of Wolverine because of how he got his abilities.

To him every other hero, from his childhood hero (Captain American) to his current totally best friend (Spider Man) or his other best friend (Nate Summer) are all just a reminder to him of how inadequate he will always be. What's funny to me about the his relationship with all three of these people. (despite the fact that they all make him feel the same kind of inadequacy) is how he treats them.

W/ Cap he treats him the way you might treat your idol. Serious and with respect.

W/ Spidy, he literally fawns over him, is practically in love with him, he's constantly looking after him and in a weird way seeks to be like him.

W/ Cable is where it's interesting because Wade almost never misses an opportunity to mock Cable. Never misses an opportunity to try to a blow to his ego despite the fact that they are technically friends.

What the difference?

W/ Cap it’s because exactly as I said before, that’s his hero. The man he idolizes and will forever wish he could be.

W/ Spidy its more interesting bc I think his obsession w/ Spider-Man is more to do with the fact that he envies him. He envies his (for lack of a better work) innocence. He is envies his moral convictions and he in some respects envies the life he imagines spidy must live. But instead of letting that envy turn him green I think he unconsciously channels into that obsessive behavior.

And W/ Cable, I think it has a a lot to do with the fact that Cable (like many) does call Wade out on his shit, it isn’t necessarily about kill but it’s seems like when Wade and Cable butt heads, it’s less black and white philosophy on the ethics of killing and more the morality of actions and inaction and what that means for the people involved (we’ll get there don’t worry).

So here's kind of where I'm going to go into a soft rant about heroes in the Marvel universe. I think the no killing rule is fine. I understand the idea, especially for heroes like Spider Man, why "no killing" is a rule one is inclined to follow. What I do often find very frustrating is the moral superiority that certain heroes take on when following that rule and how they apply that to their fellow crime fighters. Yes I know Wade is a nitrous mercenary and so he isn't always killing for "moral" reasons but when he takes that skill set into the hero business I do feel like he gets shit on more than he deserves idk, maybe my hate for Spider-Man supersedes my (relative) disinterest in Deadpool that I’m willing to defend some murder if it means spiting the web head.

Back on track…

So in the WW3 comic, I think the real reasons Wade's 'becoming' (or his attempt to be human as he believed it to be) failed is because in some respects Delta was right. Wade put too much stock into the idea that he and Wolverine were one and the same and the issue is, he was wrong. Of course, not because Wolverine is a monster but because Logan and Wade face a similar challenge, just on a different plane of existence.

Logan's challenges are all about accepting who he and seeing the good within himself, seeing that yes the monster he's scared of does exist and it does live under his skin but that monster isn’t him in any meaningful way.

Wade's problems are more in line that he can't see the good that already exists in himself. He can’t see that his will and desire to change puts him leagues ahead of where he thinks he is. See I think what some people tend to forget in the idea of healing is that you do need to be able to forgive yourself for whatever you did in the past. I think Wade doesn’t understand that just because the world may never see him as nothing more than a “overpriced mercenary” that doesn’t necessarily mean that’s all he is.

I think Wade failed in the WW3 comic (and I think the reason his character struggles so much with himself) is because he underestimates his own humanity. And in the WW3 comic specifically he expected a quick fix to his perceived problem and when nothing changed he was faced with the reality that most of us have to face at some point or another. That there is nothing wrong with us. We might have flaws, yeah everyone does but in our core there’s nothing “wrong” and when Wade was faced with that reality I think he understood it (especially considering the ending of this comic) but I wonder if he was a real person, would he be able to apply that lesson to himself? Who knows…

However I think for his character, a bit of his self-image struggles may also have to do with what he sees in the mirror (literally) and that means something because aside from adding to the tragedy of his character I think his scarred face says something about how the world sees him rather than how he sees himself.

Why do I think that? Well here’s this thing right. In the Spidey-Deadpool comics, Wade makes a deal with his love (Lady Death) and basically in order to save Spider Man he has to “pay a price” so here’s the thing. In the very next set of comics Wade’s scars are gone he looks normal and I’ve seen a lot of people interpret this normal look at his outside reflecting his inside and all that and like yes BUT. What I really don’t see most people talk about is that his wife (Shiklah) over the course of the comics stops finding his attractive and like yeah some of this is a result of him trying to be a good guy but there are also times when she directly tells him he looks disgusting even though he looks normal. So for one reason or another death made him look normal but as a direct result of this, he essentially sacrificed his marriage.

This gets even more confusing because when he's forced to kill Itsy Bitsy, he basically immediately goes back to looking kind of gross again even though this was another sacrifice he had to make. I think maybe the way that he looks (at least in that Spider Man run is more of a reflection of his conscience) I think in a weird way Death cleared his guilt and thus gave him his face back but when he was forced to kill again (no matter how justified) that guilt overwhelmed him and boom his back to looking that way again.

I don't know if he would know this directly but I think its very fitting with his character that his outward appearance has less to do with his actual culpability and more about how he feels about that situation because again Deadpool does a lot of shitty things but more or less for the right reasons but regardless he never feels good about any of it.

This is also funny though, because of his lack of self esteem and desperate desire to be seen as a good guy, he’ll do things that would undoubtedly put in him on the wrong side of history for the express purpose of feeling better about his actions.

Take him being on the side of the Super Human Registration Act during Civil War. I don’t doubt that he justifies his actions to himself by saying “those kids that died could have been my daughter” (because he does say this) but during his fight with Cable (see told you we’d come back to him) it isn’t his ideals that are being challenged. No, actually what was being called into question was his morality and the very thing (at the time), that he’d put a lot of his self worth stock into was shown to be extremely corrupt (and by his best friend no less). Wade is looking for anything and everything to grasp onto that isn’t himself that will give his life meaning. Even if it is a corrupt system, he’s willing to look the other way if gives him the feeling of being more than he think that he is and yet I don't think he realizes that that thing he's been looking for has been right in front of him for a while now.

Part of me wonders how Wade sees his relationship with Ellie. Because unlike Logan, his relationship with her isn’t strained because sees too much of himself in her, in fact from what I can tell they have a very loving relationship despite the fact that Wade doesn’t believe himself to be worthy of being Ellie’s dad. And kind of going back to the WW3 comic, what I find super interesting and very sad is how Logan and Wade are so similar in so many way but also so very different. Where Logan sees his (many) children and sees all the ways he's failed them , all the things wrong with himself, all the ways he fucked up and all the things that were taken from him, and thus he tries to distance himself from them in every way possible.

Wade sees Ellie and he see the one and only good thing about him and like a truly good parent he nurtures that brightness in her (not a diss on Logan's parenting btw but this about Wade lmao) and although he does keep his distance because of the nature of his work and the nature of himself he doesn’t alienate her from his life. In some weird way, I think the fact that Wade does keep his distance from Ellie in the way that he does actually makes their relationship stronger and I think it speaks deeply to the goodness of Wade that he tried to deny exists.

The way I read Wade Wilson is a representation of, no matter how badly we may fuck up in life, no matter how many mistakes we might make or how many times we might make those same mistakes, we should never give up on being better even if it means losing people along the way. And we should recognize that “being better” is not only hard but also that it isn’t always contingent on what others think of you. You’re always going to be annoying, or rude, or obnoxious or whatever in someone’s eyes for whatever reasons (and sometimes they might be right) but at the end of the day if you are kind and you care and know that you did the best you could then what more could the world ask from you?

[industriallyinsecure]

Sorry for another "reader is awake at like 3 am request" but this one's a lil more wholesome xD what would each la squadra member be like if they found their s/o wrapped in blankets on the couch watching comfort movies late at night? Who's all for a sudden movie night date? Who's dragging the reader back to bed no matter what it takes?

Risotto plods down stairs in search of you (he woke up because his human teddy bear wasn’t there) and finds you curled up in blankets, watching one of your favorite movies very intently. So intently, in fact, you don’t even notice him approaching, though not many people would anyway. You yelp when he plops down next to you, pulling you into his arms. He dozes for most of the movie, only reacting if you get startled or start to laugh. Overall, he’s nice company to have, but don’t expect him to interact very much. He’s had a history of not sleeping well, and you’re essentially the only remedy. If you try to get him to talk, he just mumbles sleepily and gives you kisses.

Ghiaccio would drag you back to bed regardless of how tired (and blind) he is. He’s a firm believer in getting a healthy 8 hours, and you’d be hard pressed to convince him otherwise. And because he cares about you, he wants the same for you. He’s just really really bad at expressing it. Because it’s so late (early?) he won’t raise his voice but instead gives very threatening grumbles as he shuts the tv off and pulls you behind him. Doesn’t really want to fight you about it, and won’t feel bad for pulling you away.

Melone is probably awake already to tell the truth. He’s heading to the kitchen for a late night drink, but finds you curled up watching a movie. He’ll coo about it to himself before joining you, snuggling as close as possible to you. Offers to get you snacks and drinks, or even to find another movie to watch after you’re done. He thinks it’s very romantic that you two are night owls and can stay up together, even if you sleep the day away. As long as he’s with you, he doesn’t mind.

It depends how moody Proscuitto is at the moment. If he’s gotten enough rest, he doesn’t mind staying up, but still lightly frets over you and scolds you a bit. But he does remind you to rest and tries to not so subtly convince you to come back to bed once the movie is over. If he’s tired and grumpy, there’s no question about you being dragged back to bed. He doesn’t even say anything to you, just snatches the remote up and turns the tv off, ushering you back to his room. It’s under the guise of him wanting you to be healthy, but really it’s because he’s selfish and has gotten used to you sleeping in the same bed and gets a bit anxious if you aren’t with him.

Pesci would want you to go to bed for your health but gives in to you way too easily. He just loves you so much that he has a hard time saying no. Even if you decide to go back to bed, he’ll gently insist that you don’t have to just because he wants to. If you end up staying up, he might fall asleep cuddling with you, but that’s only if you aren’t engaging him in some way. Offers to get you things and dotes on you the whole time until you both inevitably fall asleep together on the couch.

Illuso would bitch at you for keeping him awake, but would sit down next to you and watch. In truth, he doesn’t mind staying awake to spend more time with you, but he’s be damned if he had to admit it. He would whine and cry about missing beauty sleep the entire time while making no moves to get up and go to bed. But if he decides he wants to sleep, you better be ready to put up a fight. He’s not above taking you into the mirror world.

Formaggio sleeps like the dead, so it’s difficult for him to wake up during the night if he’s already been sleeping. Usually when he finds you awake at night it’s because he was out clubbing, not that you minded of course. He can only stay up for so much longer until he passes out in your lap and starts to snore. Depending on how much his snoring bothers you, you can either shut off the movie and cuddle up with him, or suffer through it. Either way, he’s pretty content.

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

Coleman Hughes on the Politics of Race | Real Time with Bill Maher

Bill Maher: So, what's the difference, where do we draw the line here? Fighting racism and your book is fighting the politics of ra-- -Talking about the politics.

Coleman Hughes: Right.

Maher: What's the difference between fighting racism and the politics of racism?

Hughes: Right. So, racism as defined by Martin Luther King, the Civil Rights Movement, judging people on the basis of their race, rather than their character and so forth. That's not what my book is-- is against, uh, fighting. Obviously, we should all fight that. No matter who it's directed at.

What my book is fighting is this ideology that really was born with critical race theory, the adult version of critical race theory in the '70s and '80s and became more popular over the past ten years. That equates Whiteness with evil, equates Blackness with a kind of moral superiority. Stereotypes whole groups of people, says that your race is an essential part of who you are and feels even that children need to be taught this from as young an age as possible because they're-- they're born with the wrong attitude about race and it needs to be sort of hammered out of them, by separating White kids from Black kids, from Hispanic kids. Putting them in different corners of the room, as was done in my Columbia University orientation, some nine years ago. And that the way we're going to get to, you know, the kind of society we want is by focusing more and more on racial identity.

In my book I say, this is nonsense, this is totally against the spirit of-- of the Civil Rights Movement and that actually, the wise principle is that we should try to treat people without regard to race both in our personal lives and in public policy.

Maher: Funny, I mean… that wouldn't have been controversial with any liberal, 30 or 40, 50 years ago. I mean, that is what Martin Luther King said. What-- what color blind society, I mean, I thought we were all after that and then we all weren't, and what changed?

Hughes: Yeah, so, even 20 years ago, it wouldn't have been controversial. I grew up in a liberal town, Montclair, New Jersey, many people probably know it. Diverse town, where, you know, we celebrated Martin Luther King every year, we listened to the famous speech and got goosebumps, as most Americans do and really believed that, uh, and I lived out that dream, in other words, I had friends of every race as a kid and I didn't think of them as belonging to a race, I thought of them by their name and their attributes, right? Around--

Maher: They treated the same way?

Hughes: Yeah. For the most part. Yeah, I mean, there are exceptions, but the exceptions prove the overwhelming rule. So, you know before 2013, you can just look at polling data from Gallup and Pew. The majority of Americans, Black, White and Hispanic believed race relations were good, as late as 2013. And that's the year everything takes a nosedive, so that by 2021, half as many people thought we were in a good place, as thought that in 2013.

So, the question is what happened? Did racism suddenly spike? Well, no, the data is pretty clear on that, racism didn't spike, what happened is that, we all got smartphones and social media, and started seeing unrepresentative video clips of cops, you know, harassing or beating or killing Black Americans and this gave people the misperception that racism was suddenly this widespread problem and it touched off all of these trends that we've now heard about for the past eight years, under various names, wokeness, CRT, DEI, it's all fundamentally from that core change and how information is being shared.

Maher: But there was part of that was good, that we did see these beatings and things go on, because that's what changed it.

Hughes: The one thing I can say is good about it, is before the Black Lives Matter movement in 2013, cops could basically do whatever and not get punished.

Maher: Right.

Hughes: You could, I mean-- it's hard to find even a single example. Uh, you can find isolated ones but mostly cops got away with whatever. So, that's no longer the case and that's the one thing I could credit.

Maher: And they go to jail.

Hughes: Yeah. I mean it-- But on the other hand, it has not-- many people think it just revealed all the racism that's actually out there, that's not true, because if that were true, people would have an accurate assessment, and this has been tested. When you ask very liberal Americans, "How many unarmed Black people do you think are shot by the cops every year?" The answer they gave in 2019 was a thousand, the real number from that year was 12. So, this social media algorithmically boosted content has-- it's not educating us, it's miseducating us.

--

[redwayfarers]

one of those days

Fandom: Wayfarer IF Ship: Cassmel (Cassander x Melchior) Characters: Cassander Inteus (OC), Melchior Larkspur Words: 1084 Rating: Gen Summary: Cassander has a bad mental health day. Fortunately, he doesn't have to face it alone. Read on AO3

The day drags like nobody’s fucking business. It’s real fun having nothing to do with your time, you know - the half open book stares at me in accusation from the table, half done weave shakes its threads in disappointment. I told myself I’d finish it today, but when I woke up I found that my hands just refused to do it and would’ve rather broken the whole thing apart than finish it. The book could’ve easily met the same fate if I didn’t have enough wherewithal to just step back and declare myself useless for the day. 

But cooking needs to be done. It’s not a question of want as much as it is a question of need, after all. We all need to eat. If you don’t eat you starve. And since I don’t particularly like starving, I managed to drag myself to the kitchen and listen to the chop chop of the knife. There are downsides, though, as there usually are. Chop chop is so routine that I could do it blind, so the part of my head that’s not focused on making sure I don’t cut my own fingers off is free to wonder.

And gods do I wonder. I’ve since stopped keeping track of what about, but that’s where I am now.

Theokleia came to mind at some point, unbidden. Maybe after the brief sighting of my face in the window. Maybe after the errant curl of hair fell in my eyes and I had to move it away. She wouldn’t cook, obviously. She has people to cook for her. She has fancy makeup and hairpins and decorative battle knives on her walls. And maybe she’s laughing now, having a grand old time, drinking at a party and whispering in another rich asshole’s ear. 

Maybe Aiantes listens too. Does she keep the hairpin he gifted her decades ago, before my very eyes, when all I got was a stern look to shut the fuck up? Maybe she wears it across the hall, and maybe he smiles when he sees it shining in the magic lights. Maybe he even removes it later in the privacy of their bedroom. 

Maybe I don’t really wanna think about my parents fucking, exactly. Brain, stop being weird.

“You’re murdering that poor eggplant,” Melchior says out of nowhere. “What has it done to you?” 

I turn around and set the knife down. “My parents have sex. In general. In Vestra, too. I know the exact bedroom. Big bed, fancy ass curtains. Roses on the sheets. The mwah mwah sounds. All the good stuff.” 

“Your… parents?” Melchior blinks. “Cassander, you have three siblings. It’s highly likely that they do have sex. Assuming nothing’s taking the place of that poor vegetable.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s a really simple thing, too. And my parents are doing it.” 

“And here it’s where you lose me,” he says slowly. He has two big books of accounts in his hands and he looks so disheveled it makes me want to mess his hair up even more. “What do…” He sighs. “It’s been that kind of day, no?” 

I laugh weakly. “Yeah. My brain's all weird. One thing led to another and here I am, mentally in my parents’ bedroom. Where I wasn’t normally allowed when I was a kid, too, even in non-fucking circumstances.” I look at my feet and wiggle my toes. “I am… I just..” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” His voice is kind and gentle and it hits like cold water in a parched throat. He puts the books down and walks over, takes my hand in his and the world feels less loathsome all of a sudden. 

“I don’t want to be angry anymore.” There it is. I’m getting better at figuring these things out. What a strange idea, actually understanding what’s behind all the weirdness in my head on a given day. “Don’t think there’s much to talk about. I just– I don’t want to think about my mother. But she comes unbidden sometimes, she’s a fucking weed of a person like that, and I get all– like this. Gods, I’m so shit at saying things.” 

“I understand you perfectly well, if that has any merit,” he offers. “You’re not half as bad at saying things as you think you are.”

“You don’t count,” I say. It feels as though a weight’s been lifted off my shoulders, though. “You’re just trying to make me feel better by saying that. It doesn’t count.” 

“Is it working, though?” He smiles softly. I bury my head in his shoulder. 

“I hate you so much,” I whisper against the fabric of his shirt. He’s still holding my hand. “But seriously now. Were you.. Did you have any plans for.. This exact moment?” 

“I was just about to get myself a cup of tea,” he says and kisses the side of my head. His hair tickles my ear. “Do you want me to prevent any more vegetable murder?” 

“That’d be great. We gotta eat something and I’m the big bad vegetable murderer, as we both know.” 

“Really scary, yes,” he laughs softly. I don’t reply, but I make no movement whatsoever, soaking up the warmth and the ease of his presence. He seems content to stay like this for the time being, oblivious to the life of a whole company of actors around us, and his free hand rests loosely on my waist. “I’m proud of you, though,” he adds after a while. “You were able to identify what was distressing you and asked for help.” 

Any joke I might’ve had to those words dies on my tongue, heavy and sordid and venomous. He’s just saying things because I’m obviously not doing good for the most part, but a part of me wants to believe him. I want to be worthy of his pride but I’m not sure if I really am. “Didn’t solve shit, Mel,” I say instead, because that’s easier. Because it comes faster and more naturally. Because it shelters from this oppressive feeling that I might not be such a fuck-up after all. “I’m still as angry as I was before. Being able to say my mother’s a bitch doesn’t change shit.”

“It’s better than it was before,” he hums. “But let us cut those vegetables.” His voice turns small and private and easy. “Honestly, between the two of us, being responsible is very boring sometimes.”

And the world really does feel less loathsome for a while. 

[touchoffleece]

Tag Game (look at me Ma' first participation in a tag game! 🎉 )

@wlwsakura I had to do a triple take seeing my name 😵‍💫, I am flattered at the tag pass.

Three Ships:

-Edeleth (female Byleth Eisner and Edelgard Von Hresvelg, Fire Emblem: Three Houses) they stole my heart back in when the game dropped with everything about them when shipped together. (Being vague on purpose to avoid spoilers for the Crimson Rose/Black Eagles route for any who may want to experience it blind) In specific female Byleth getting some exclusive scenes with Edelgard, and how their story shifts with the added element of a female Byleth in connection to certain story points that are kind of not as poignant in other routes or ships really makes me ship it more compared to male Byleth and Edelgard.

-Supercorp (Kara Zor El/Kara Danvers/ Supergirl and Lena Luthor from 2015's Supergirl) I have spilled my guts about them a fair amount already. The wlw ship that helped me realize I was not as straight as I thought because of how fond I was of certain same sex friends. They were so couple coded, and it really stinks (older) supercorp shippers went through what they went through by the network, show runners, comic book anti woke mob, other Supergirl TV show fans, other lgbtqi+ aligned people, and homophobes for calling Lena and Kara what they were.

-I wanted to try showing variety for my ships into bl/mlm or hetero ships, but I got to end with InoSaku (Ino Yamanak and Sakura Haruno from Naruto).

I got so much going on with this ship on some different layers.

Way back when I was introduced to Naruto via the anime, I was not at all a fan of Sakura. Looking back I might have been best described as a "Sakura Hater", but having done some growing and having been reminded of Sakura as a female character in a shonen all this time later, I now have realized how unfair I was being to this fictional character for things well out of her control (Kishimoto's bad writing, how women characters are usually treated in shonen animes, served with a side helping of internalized misogyny on my part).

The realization at all the unnecessary hate at a fictional character who couldn't fight the tropes she was writen with made me re evaluate Sakura, and I realized she isn't so bad. No worse than any other Rookie 9.

Along side that re analysize I realized how gay-rivals-to-lovers coded Sakura and Ino are, and how much of a missed opportunity they were. So now they haunt me.

First Ship Ever: hard to remember but either Sanae Ozora and Tsubasa (Captain Tsubasa) or Ranma and Akane (Ranma 1/2)

Lats Song:

Last Movie: Tales of Vesperia: The First Strike

Currently Reading: No books, but I have been meaning to read an auto biography book on the join Korean team composed of South and North Korean players from the 2018 Winter Olympics, I am currently reading the fanfictions: "The Pieces of me (cling to you)" (supercorp) by @wolfie-bee, re-reading "Thief-Nin Sakura" (Inosaku) by Hemerodromus while waiting on the next chapter of "A Dose of Venom" in the Mithridatism series by Androgyninja, and finally "Wednesday and the Nightshade Girls" by Onehitwonder13.

Due to tech limitations I can't link the other fics, sorry.

Currently Playing: FFXIV and Pokemon Scarlet

Currently Watching: One Piece Live Action

Currently Consuming: How-to Fix Tech guides

Currently Craving: some sense of normalcy or less anxiety

People I want to know better but don't have to participate: @casualkoalatea @weissaddams @daneicole @senshi-9 @coffeeshib @nakamatoo

[the-acid-pear]

Please tell us about the hallway bald man

I woke up from a fever and I'm still dehintegrated. No. That's not the word. Dehydrated. There. Anyway sorry if I make no sense.

Basically i live in this REEEALLY old house, from when the Spaniards were around, and the house all looked the same and were uh. Huge as balls. This is to the degree me and my neighbor who both have the same house have it dived up to THREE!!!! parts. Very epic.

Anyway houses this old oughta be haunted.

I don't know how far back the man in the hallway dates back to tho! Because the story of my family is complicated. Lots of witches with no fucking morals who out of hate for kids cursed their parents. Obviously they got cursed back and such, literally a battlefield.

And there WAS a big possession that happened in this house that took up to a few years to be solved. I wasn't there so i can't tell you omg it 100% happened!!! nor i can't be like Tch...... That's bullshit; because everyone who lived in this house who was up to 8 people saw it and was very reserved about it.

NOW 👏 with that said you can really imagine the possibility of some guys being left. My family is dead sure these people work out of your fear, the more scared you are the more they will haunt you because let's be real: they must be bored as all fucks, being dead and such.

Not there's more lore about our ghost belief that i could share but I'll cut to the hallway bald man.

The thing that makes him the most special is that WE ALL SAW HIM, well, at least part of the family did. I know my great aunt did (she's gone now but it's well remembered something breathed on her neck while she was there), my dad had a time he saw him constantly (my dad being extremely vulnerable due to being scared) and i saw him too, very vividly.

Now, I'm not John Sanity, I'm very prone to hallucinating under stress, but when I'm walking out of my bathroom a regular day like others and i suddenly see this FLASH of a very nitid face of this very pale bald and ANGRY man trying to throw my phone off my hand I'm like. Hm. This isn't my regular hallucination.

And i spoke eventually of it w my dad and he confirmed everyone who lived in this house had seen the same guy. OBVIOUSLY they didn't describe him because that would only scare others further, but there's a common agreement between the witnesses of his appearance.

Very worth noting too I'm like, cripplingly face blind. The fact that i avoid eye contact AND that i need eyeglasses doesn't help, to see a face THIS DETAILED is something i wouldn't be able to do under regular circumstances, not even in my brain.

Now, the lore doesn't end here tho. Because notice how i mentioned he tried to throw my phone and was very angry? Well I'm really convinced that didn't end there.

Because time close, earlier or later, can't remember, it's been years, my phone magically fell and the most expensive part broke.

Sure, you could be like ah I'm sure one of the 6 cats did that on accident, but my cats are so fucking careful when it comes to objects, not ONCE i saw em throw something on purpose unless they wanted to eat it, plus this was throw REALLY bad.

Well, i did nothing out of that. I mean, what could i? So time passed and my phone was fixed yippee!

And you know what happens the first night?

It falls the exact same fucking way.

Except! This time it was protected to the teeth so no damage was done! And literally my phone never fell from that again. As if he had given up seeing it doesn't work anymore.

And that's the story of the hallway bald man!!! Some really technophobic and bored old man who can't unfortunately find the light.

[pbandjesse]

It is officially the second day of me being 32! And it was honestly a great day. I have had a really awesome birthday weekend. 

I slept okay last night. But I had very intense dreams. I was screaming and crying a lot. Over a losing my id and buying a giant Christmas themed bunny peep stuffed animal. At a target. Jess was there. It was a lot. 

But I woke up in a good mood even if I was tired. I would shake it off soon enough and had a really good day. 

When I got up I made the bed and went to get dressed. Said hi to Jess on the couch. And got ready. 

We chilled in the living room for a few minutes. I told her about my weird dream. And sat with her in the couch while she finished her coffee. And then we were off. 

I got to ride in her new car! It's very similar to mind inside but has all the extra fancy features and the sunroof and some other interesting things. Like blind spot detection. We were surprised to find that there was coffee all over her windshield and on the passenger side door. What I think happened was someone set their coffee on her roof for whatever reason and it fell over and spilled. Feel bad for whoever had their morning a little ruined. I helped Jess clean it off. And we headed to Hamden. 

We got a parking spot on a side street. It was the first time Jess has parallel parked in her new car so it was exciting when it went so well. 

We went to golden west for breakfast. And it was great. But slow. We beat the rush in but our poor waiter was a bit overwhelmed. Our food took a long time but it was good talking and people watching. And ease dropping on other conversations.  

Once our food came Jess's was missing the salsa from her tacos. But my questions were great. We would eventually get the salsa and our food was excellent. I have really loved all the food we have gotten this weekend. And I'm working really hard to not eat to the point of not feeling well.  I have been stopping at half way through. So I have a bunch of leftovers. Which is nice. 

Once we finished eating we went back to the car and drove to the art museum! I haven't been there for a long time. And it was nice! A little busier than we expected. But that was fine. We had 2 hours of parking paid for. And the musuem isn't huge. But we got to see a lot. 

The best parts were at the end. I love love loved the John Waters collection they had on display. They had Mike Kelly pieces and Cy Twombly and weird stuff and it was great. I had a blast looking at stuff I haven't seen before and that was just really nice. 

We stopped at the gift shop. And talked a lot about the work we are blown away by and stuff that falls flat for us. I have missed art museums. 

We weren't done yet! Next we drove to amazing glaze to do pottery. We went to the Starbucks in the same parking lot first. And then to the painting studio. It was the busiest I have ever ever seen it. We were lucky to get the last table. It would get more busy and crowded and it was crazy. We were there for more then two hours. Tables would change around us multiple times by people much faster then us. 

But we were intense. It took a while for Jess to pick what she was going to decorate. I chose a tea cup and saucer almost right away.  And soons he would pick the stemless wine glass. Which I have done before I really enjoy using. 

Jess decided to do all pink and red. She drew out flowers and pears. And even used a paperclip to scrap stuff away to make very fine lines. I hope that works because I want to try that next time. 

I played with a lot of color mixing and layering. I have no idea how mine are going to come out but I had a really good time making it. 

I started with the plate. I wanted it to be a little meadow. And under it is dirt. I even added a skeleton, bones, and worms. Then for the cup I made a little blue kitty creature. I used three tones of blue that I'm hoping will have a watercolor effect. And on the inside I made his guts and ribcage. I thought I was being so cleaver. I love how it looks. 

I would chat with people at the tables around us. A woman made a fuss about how cool mine was and I was just like. Ahhh. Thank you! I'm an art teacher. And we chatted about how I love painting pottery because it's the only art no one asks me to sell. It's just for me. I have my blankets and stuff for the same reason now but still this is important for me. 

We were there until s little before 4. And I was really really happy with how our pieces came out. I can't wait to see them fired. They said they will be done on Thursday! 

We got home right before James did. And we all chilled for a while. James made me a birthday cake. Me and Jess booked our campsite for Easter weekend. We are going to stay in Susquehanna state park. I hope it's great. It looked beautiful. 

And we just chilled and watched tiktoks for a long time. 

Around 530 James offered to go pick up food. Me and Jess ordered poke bowls (we have had to much cheese and bread this weekend). James would go to R house to get those and would get paid Thai for themself. It would take a while for that to be ready but me and Jess weren't starving. We had both shd leftovers when we first got home. 

But it was really nice to have dinner when James did get back. I got pineapple and seaweed salad and tofu and other stuff,  it was all really good. And excellent choice. And I still have leftovers! 

After we are we all moved to Jamess room to watch two more episodes of the last of us. I was caught up on my knitting so I only had one row to do. So I worked on unraveling my yarn to rewind righter. So hopefully it won't get so tangled anymore. In the two hours we watched the show (which was fabulous) I finished two while balls of yarn. Excellent. 

I had a great time watching with Jess and James. And there is one moe episode and then another new one tomorrow night. Maybe me and James will just watch together. We will see. 

And now we are all getting ready to go to bed. James helped me with the last bit of yarn but then I just ripped it and tied it and James was devastated and the Jess was laughing at me and it was all very silly. 

I got a little shower. And now I am cozy. And I am ready to sleep. 

Tomorrow Jess will go home. She has a baby shower to go to so she'll leave after breakfast. I am so grateful to have her as a friend. 

I hope you all feel happy tonight. Be safe. Take care. Good night! 

[jodilin65]

SATURDAY, MARCH 31, 2018 I slept better than I expected to yet I don’t have the energy or motivation to work out. I’ve done the laundry and soon I will clean the kitchen.

Looking forward to Camp Nano starting at midnight tomorrow night. I’ve been wanting to write but didn’t want to start a story and have two stories going at once. Nor did I want to start my Nano story too soon and be a cheater.

I forgot all my dreams. I hate that. I got up to pee at one point and remembered a dream or two in detail but forgot it once I got up for good.

He and I were talking about how my days have gotten shorter. Where my schedule used to jump about 2 hours a day 20 years ago, now it’s a little over an hour. How awesome it would be if it could shorten enough to hold a schedule! But with my shit luck, if this happens, it won’t be until I’m old and dying. :( It would just make it so much easier to do things in general.

A part of me hesitates to move too close to Tammy, knowing I would have to disappoint her at times by saying “no” to something she may want to do due to either my schedule or other commitments, not that she wouldn’t understand, especially as one with a medical background.

Circadian rhythm disorder wasn’t discovered and documented until 1999 when it was accidentally discovered in blind people. This made them realize that light doesn’t have as much to do with sleep cycles as originally thought. It was at its worst in my 30s. I think it peaks for most people who have it. You’re pretty much born with it as I always had sleep issues all my life, struggling to get to sleep at night and struggling to get up for school in the morning. But it does worsen before it gets better.

The only thing that would suck about my days shortening is that where it used to take me a week to flip my schedule, now it takes closer to two weeks, and well, I would hate to be stuck on nights for a month or so when there were things I needed or wanted to do in the daytime. But seriously, the only thing I would miss about nights is that they’re quieter! Not too much tonight in the way of car stereos or planes. Just the gentle whooshing sound of the freeway but I don’t mind that.

Anyway, the older we get, the more doctors’ appointments we tend to have so it would be nice if I didn’t have to struggle to get to them as I sometimes do now. I just dread the day they drop spouses from insurance. I hope that if they do it isn’t before Tom retires! It’s just that America has become so obsessed with separatism versus teamwork. Everybody wants everybody to take care of their own needs as independently as possible. That’s fine if that’s what you want and you’re able to do so, but this isn’t always so easy for some of us.

FRIDAY, MARCH 30, 2018 Poor Aly. She was not only put back on prednisone and given an iron shot, but she’s going to be 37 next month, right around the age that things really start going to hell. She’s up to 134 and 34 pounds and she is struggling hopelessly to change and undo the effects of aging. Acceptance will come as she gets a little older. Meanwhile, she should enjoy the 130s because someday she’s going to look back and wish he could be 134. Hell, I’d settle for being 144! But unless there’s a major medical breakthrough, I get seriously ill, or I become inhuman enough to suffer the effects of going thyrotoxic, which would mean taking my medication every day, even when I’m flaring, it’s not going to happen. I woke up at 156.4, though I am retaining water now as my body tries to decide whether or not to kick off a period.

I once tried to fight it thinking all I had to do was eat right and exercise but that’s like saying that as long as I’m a good person nothing bad will ever happen to me. Diet and exercise may work for those under 30-35, but the reality is that it takes very few calories to maintain the same weight when we get older that once would’ve caused us to lose like crazy.

Even Tom has struggled with his weight. He was 35 when we met and 205 lb. Now he’s almost 61 and 260 lb, maybe a little more. He too, has had no luck with diets. Where my problem is hunger, his is cravings. I have to go down to about 1000 calories or less to lose weight and that’s like starving. If I could do that then I could stand to have nothing at all.

What I think is important to keep in mind is that it’s how we feel and not how we look that matters most. Sometimes we just don’t have as much control over things as we’d like, like our height and eye color and all that. But there’s no reason we can’t keep active and at least keep our joints strong and our bodies healthy.

So sick am I of having to worry about my weight climbing that I am seriously thinking of “maxing” out. This is where I eat “normally” and allow my body to settle into whatever my “forever” weight is going to be. It takes a certain amount of calories for each of us to maintain a certain body weight. Although I try to choke back the calories most days, my comfort zone is about 1600-2000. If I ate that I wouldn’t feel much deprivation if any at all. But if I let myself have that every day, I would gain weight. I don’t know what my max weight for that calorie amount would be, but the reason I’m considering it is that A, I know it’s inevitable that I end up there someday anyway, and B, I figure if I just get it over with and discover my forever size and weight then I’ll no longer have to stress about it every single fucking day and wonder when I’m going to hit the 160s which I’ll probably do this year no matter how hard I try not to.

It’s a daily struggle. Literally. Every day is like trying to hold back the tides and I hate being hungry. Yet there is a lot of hunger that goes with trying to cut hundreds of calories from my daily intake. In my 20s and even most of my 30s, I wasn’t nearly as hungry as I became once I got to be around 40. This way, if I max out, I won’t have to worry about gaining what I suspect will be 20-30 more pounds because I will have already done it. I don’t think I would go over 200 if I kept exercising but ate “naturally.”

THURSDAY, MARCH 29, 2018 Space rent has gone from $795 to $865 in the 5 years we’ve lived here. And that’s cheap considering that the average 2-bedroom apartment here goes for $1400.

Since 3 teaspoons equal a tablespoon I decided to put a teaspoon of the apple cider vinegar in three of the 16.9 oz. water bottles I drink, but then Aly said that she put a tablespoon in a 20 oz. bottle of strawberry sparkly water and it was okay. I like this idea so I think I might try it.

Went out walking earlier and even at 9 p.m., the traffic around the front gate was like OMG. It got up to 82 degrees today and we ran the AC for a little while. I waited till it had just slipped under 70 degrees to go out. Hopefully, we won’t need the heat anymore for a while! Anyway, I loved the various cooking smells as well as the smell of Jasmine as I walked around.

I wish we didn’t have such old shitty windows so we could open them at night or anytime we want to without bugs getting in. I just couldn’t sleep with them open because the noise would be horrendous. I might as well go sleep in the middle of the road in that case! I’m tired of living in all places but that’s what I’ve lived in for most of my life. Really hope the next place, wherever it is, is more modern as well as quieter, but I highly doubt I’m going to get the last one. Not too many places these days are quiet. It’s after 11 p.m. and I can hear all kinds of things on the freeway and in the sky. Yet that’s mild compared to when the traffic is heavy in the park, as well as the near-daily landscaping and projects.

I don’t expect to have the energy to work out tomorrow night because I’m on nights right now and I’m sure the trash and recycle pickups are going to wake me up regularly along with whatever other thunderously loud vehicles go through here. I managed to sleep okay today but there was definitely a ton of loud traffic. Tomorrow I will probably just do laundry and maybe clean the kitchen.

This weekend we’re going to have a little meeting and decide when to move. We may not know the exact year but we should have a better idea. Do we do stupid and risky and go sooner? Or do we play it safe and smart and wait another five years or so? We’ll have to lay out all the pros and cons and make a decision. Damn, it’s a tough one, though!

No planes flying overhead now. Right now all I hear is the freeway, but hey, it is nighttime and I’m only about five or six hundred feet away from it. The only thing that sucks about warmer weather at night is that you hear the fucking car stereos blasting down it beginning at around 6 p.m. till around 2 a.m. It’s just fucking ridiculous the way we let so much shit go on in the world that shouldn’t and we don’t let things be that should be left alone. I still can’t believe how often I hear things in the daytime here. Landscaping was only done once a week or less and all the other places I ever lived, and I didn’t hear a fraction of the projects I hear going on here.

For dreams, I remember something about moving from someplace that didn’t look anything like this. I was doing a final walk-through of it and was in a room with a pullstring to a light in the center of it.

The next dream was really weird. I guess he and I were doing something illegal online and he kept telling me, “Shield me.” That meant I had to hold some strange object close to him so he wouldn’t get caught doing whatever he was doing, LOL. Then I was trying to hide some files or destroy them.

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 28, 2018 Just when I had been sleeping well enough not to remember my dreams, the shitty sleep has returned right along with the nightmares. I actually had one good dream, though, of winning 30k.

Not only did I wake up twice to pee and twice from loud traffic, and then finally get up to the sound of obnoxious sawing as we can’t go one fucking week without a project here (they’re doing something at the house on the other side of Bob and Virginia), my dreams were less than pleasant.

I had just said to him the night before that I missed the “dream people” and hoped they would return as long as they could be nice. Well, they weren’t. In one dream we were at some store buying who knows what. There were three young women behind the service counter when one of them said that it would “push on our ears and make us smile.” :-) Well, Tom wasn’t happy to hear this, naturally, and demanded a refund of $40 for whatever the hell the product was. The girl became angry and said something about leaving her alone for a while and she stormed off. I demanded the other girl closest to us give us our money back. When she refused, I grabbed her by the hair and demanded the money, shaking her viciously. Then I looked at the third girl, and not wanting her to call for the bacon, I let the second girl go and tried to hustle Tom to the car who was walking in slow motion.

The worst dream was being in jail for who knows what when they decided to tell me that they were going to use me as a guinea pig in a weight-loss experiment that required a variety of experimental drugs. I told them that I not only had a medication phobia but refused to let anybody use my body as they pleased without my consent.

My punishment for not “cooperating” was starvation. They wouldn’t feed me unless I agreed to participate. Each day they brought me a tray of food and each day I refused it, determined not to let my body be turned into an experimental specimen. I became so weak that the last thing I remember in the dream was one of the guards throwing a bagged lunch at me. I guess they decided I should eat no matter what but it was too late. I was too weak to sit up and feed myself at that point even if I wanted to. The dream ended before they could either save me or let me starve to death. I think I know which one they chose. Like I said, definitely not happy in Dreamland.

The only other dreams I remember were being in some building with an indoor swimming pool, telling some guy to fuck off, and writing a French address on some envelope for Christiane. It seemed to be something I did periodically for her and for some reason, I came to enjoy it. Like I was oh so honored to do her this favor, LOL. She read the address back to me and I was impressed with her perfect French pronunciation. Then I lost the address and became frustrated because I knew this meant I would no longer be able to write it out for her as apparently, neither of us had it memorized.

TUESDAY, MARCH 27, 2018 Looked up the time the sun was to set earlier so I didn’t have any direct sunlight in my eyes. I went out walking for about a half-hour when it set at 7:24, sure to mix in some running along the way.

Not much else going on. For however long it may last, I’ve been feeling good and sleeping well. With CampNano just a few days away, I guess I better start thinking of more ideas. I have the basic plot in mind for the story I want to do but it’s very basic. I haven’t really thought of much detail. I’ve been busy so I haven’t really gotten around to it just yet.

Tom’s shoulder still hurts on and off and it pulls out of the socket at times. Hopefully, he won’t need surgery on it! The sling still helps but it comes and goes. He said it was fine the first 8 hours of his day.

MONDAY, MARCH 26, 2018 The lady with the artificial foot from Oregon is now moving into the house across from Jon & Carolyn. Glad they have quiet vehicles, though I’m not sure how many people/vehicles live there. There’s a red SUV with Oregon plates and there’s a white SUV with California plates. Earlier there was a Budget rental truck. Same company and size we moved down with back in the summer of 2007.

Went out walking but this time the app didn’t do the greatest job of tracking my route. Tom and I were talking about how cool it would be if people were microchipped. I think it would be way cool if I could see not only the location I was in but the room in that location I was in as well. Our guess is that people will be microchipped someday, be it mandatory or not. Right now people are too paranoid. I guess there are that many people up to no good. But if you’re like us with nothing to hide, then you don’t care who knows where you are. :-)

Although I know I’ve been dreaming, my dreams have been too vague to remember them enough to write about them.

Feeling bad for Aly. I’m worried about both her and my sister. Aly’s white blood cell count is way up and her platelets are low. Her doctor told her not to panic and that some kind of treatment plan could be worked out. Let’s hope so! I would hate for her to be sick no matter what but it would be especially shitty if she wasn’t well enough to visit. She gets low on iron or something like that and it leaves her feeling tired, weak and dizzy.

The older I get, the more I realize just how much aging sucks. Other than the wisdom you acquire, it all sucks shit big-time. 20 years ago I mostly had just the allergies and asthma to deal with. Now I also have a dead thyroid, rashes, shitty vision, thinning hair, gray hair, dry skin, TMJ, a deformed ear that is getting uglier by the minute, a hopelessly fat body, crowns and bridges, a dead libido, and joints that have lost a lot of flexibility. It chills me to think what life may be like in 20 more years!

Things aren’t new and exciting like they once were and you tend to have a bleaker outlook on life when you get older as well. Maybe that’s because we’re smarter and so we’re more realistic. When we’re younger, we don’t quite see the world for what it really is and therefore we see all kinds of endless possibilities. We tend to live in the moment and not worry so much about the future, and when we do worry about the future, it isn’t usually in the way we worry about the future when we’re older.

SUNDAY, MARCH 25, 2018 Ended up having a good day today. I was really worried when I took my meds but everything’s fine. There’s still nothing to say that the Monday/Wednesday/Friday skips will be the answer, but I have to keep doing whatever it takes to figure out exactly how much my body can tolerate. It’s always better to take some medication than none.

We went to Rite Aid earlier and I got a really cool athletic top. It’s bright pink and purple with long sleeves that have thumb loops. It’s great for chilly weather.

Went out by myself earlier and it was cool to see Life360 trace my route, time and distance. I went a mile in 27 minutes. Tom watched my progress but just like when he drives home, it doesn’t track very steadily. We’ll appear to be in the same spot for a few minutes and then it will suddenly dart ahead. So it jumps along in spurts rather than consistently.

I decided to leave the second reply to what I’m almost positive is Maliheh’s negative comment spiting me for teasing her about using her name in my story. I called her out by first name and the fact that there were no sales or loans around the time she left the review and that she ought to email me. :) She won’t though, of course. The gutless little coward wouldn’t dare contact me. I know she’s hoping to build a case against me by not contacting me just like the black bitch did. I guess she figures they wouldn’t check her IP to see if she went to any site I was associated with.

I noticed when I checked the reports the other day that the order in which the books were listed had changed. The same thing happened right before Maliheh left her “review” only there are no new reviews. No sales either. It’s been pretty slow and discouraging lately.

Now that I know lichen planus can get you anywhere, including the mouth, I’m paranoid whenever I get a weird feeling in my mouth and that I’m going to get it on other parts of my body. I read around and some guy said that after using turmeric powder and pills for a couple of months his cleared up and he hasn’t had any problems in years.

I’m going to try this stuff for lichen planus the next time we do an order on Amazon but I doubt it will be much help. I’m just afraid to use the steroid much for fear of burning. I would rather itch than burn because it’s easier to do something about that. Today I took a baby Benadryl and I ended up going down for a nap. I love naps. Just not how they sometimes leave me groggy.

I wish I knew what was making my phone lose its mind. Sometimes it will just start retyping stuff I’ve already written. I guess it sent some weird text to Aly, LOL.

Doesn’t look like the new people have moved in yet after all but one of them may have an artificial foot from what Tom said he saw. What we think was the flipper was there hammering today. I could hear the fucking thing all the way down the street as I was returning from my walk. When Tom was out weed whacking he saw the artificial foot lady and some other woman by a red SUV with Oregon plates.

As we were coming in from Rite Aid I saw a woman walking a Chihuahua up the driveway on the other side of Bob and Virginia. Still not sure if it’s that one, Ray’s mutt, or someone else’s that has the obnoxious bark.

We blew 60 bucks at Rite Aid on fun stuff we don’t need. I got a floral t-shirt dress on a black background, the athletic shirt I mentioned, junk food, and a wind chime with a rainbow-colored flower spinner. First time I ever saw a chime/spinner combo.

Since there’s a form in which I can anonymously send a message to Carol, Kim’s sister, via her dojo site, I started to ask if she wanted me to be an anonymous and concerned person but we agreed to hold off for now because we don’t want to get her in any more trouble. Bad idea and I’m sorry I offered because truthfully, I don’t want to get involved. I’m sorry for her but there’s nothing I can do anyway.

SATURDAY, MARCH 24, 2018 Doing more on my phone lately by setting up things like my Pi music player for running and even downloaded these really cool live wallpapers that look like raindrops are running down the screen, and others that have flying butterflies, running streams and fish swimming in ponds.

I began using Google Docs because that way I can access the same doc from any device. It would be nice to have the option of relaxing on the couch or in bed as I speak out either journal entries or stories rather than always sitting at my desk. Nothing can replace the ease of the laptop, though. It’s much easier to edit on the laptop, and of course, graphics look better with a bigger screen.

One of the cool things about Google Docs is that it has an add-on that puts a rainbow effect in the text making it gradually change colors as you can see here. It looks really cool. I can’t use it on all of my blogs but I can use it on Blogger as well as in Word. Then again, it’s a pain to get into Word.

The medication experiment is going well so far. I felt fine on the two days I skipped. I took it today and started to worry at first when my HR spiked to 108. But then I did have a candy bar so that may have been why. I thought I was going to be in for a bad day but after feeling wound up for just a short time, I was okay. Tomorrow is the big test.

Decided it would be okay to use a little bit of the weaker steroid gel down there just to take the edge off the rash which began picking up again about a week ago, as I figured it eventually would. Rather than use it for months, I’ll just use it for a week or two. That won’t be nearly enough to cause me to have burning and inflammation.

Bad news from Tammy. :-( When she was in the hospital with pneumonia in January they discovered some enlarged lymph nodes in her chest and she’ll have to have a biopsy next month. She was referred to a surgeon for that and will have to spend the night in the hospital in case of bleeding. As if she hasn’t already had enough, she’s still recovering from having the nerves in her neck burned due to the fibromyalgia. She said she had horrible pain and I can just imagine! It hurts just thinking about it that I honestly can’t imagine actually having to have done. She is beyond medically cursed. I would have killed myself dozens of procedures ago.

She let me know that I’m in her thoughts and that we’ll talk sometime because it’s easier for her that way. At first, I wondered why it took her so long to give me an update but I can see where one isn’t in the mood to be very sociable when they don’t feel well.

While I certainly hope that the lymph nodes aren’t cancerous, I know they’ve gotten really good at killing most cancers, so I am at least hopeful that she’ll have options if worse comes to worst.

The only thing that bothers me is that bad feeling I’ve had for a few years now about when she’s 62. Well, she’s going to be 61 in August. Despite my accuracy rate, I’m optimistic that it doesn’t mean anything because I’ve been wrong a couple of times before with similar dreams/feelings. It’s just that I did see the weight loss in my dreams, but who knows? Maybe she’s put it back on or at least some of it. Older people don’t usually keep weight off very easily, after all.

The shitty thing about having nerves burned is that it doesn’t always relieve the pain, and when it does it’s temporary since they do grow back.

THURSDAY, MARCH 22, 2018 I’m way behind in my writing so now I’m going to try to catch up and hope I don’t forget anything. Yesterday was both shitty and good. It was good in that my appointments went well, but it was shitty in that I was very anxious. As much as I hoped and wished otherwise, as no one wants to be intolerant to medication their body needs, especially when there aren’t any other real options, the experiments I’ve been doing really do point to it as being the main culprit. It’s very frustrating and even depressing. I have no idea what I’m going to do about the problem or even what I can do about it. I just don’t have many options. I either take the medication once in a while or stop it altogether unless I can be switched to something else. I’m just not sure what else I could be switched to other than Armour, which may actually increase the anxiety.

I just feel so helpless and hopeless that my thoughts have been turning pretty dark and I’m once again wondering if life is even worth it. I wish I had the positive optimism that Tom has and could believe that this will one day end. After all, I’ve had other long-term problems and they worked themselves out eventually. But this is very different than any other problem I’ve had before, and after what’s been nearly 4 years, I’m losing hope. Maybe I’m just meant to be hypo just like I was meant to be short. It’s too bad I can’t stand that god-awful anxious feeling in my chest, though, because the anxiety diet is the best damn diet ever. But I just don’t want to live to suffer either.

Today I woke up depressed and tired, and I prayed to a God that probably doesn’t exist to take my life if it’s not going to let me get better. I’ve done everything I can think of to try to help myself and I’m running out of ideas. I just feel like any possible solution isn’t going to be a good one in this case. My other problems were a lot more straightforward. This is a very complex issue, however.

The weather matches my mood but at least it’s quiet.

Still torn between moving and staying but I’m afraid to go with him still working and this anxiety issue unresolved, assuming there’s even a way to resolve it. Each year that I have it, the more doubtful I become.

I’m quite calm so far today, which again points to the medication since I skipped today, but very tired and glum. Not only does rainy weather tend to make me feel this way but I almost feel like I have a slight cold. I had a sore throat last night. I’ve had some lung tightness too, but I think that’s more of a weather thing than a medication thing.

It just seems way too extreme for perimenopause or even flares, though I don’t doubt that these things may affect the medication to a small degree. I seriously have doubts that I’ll ever be able to take the medication consistently without issues. Therefore, I’m not left with much choice other than to deprive myself of the medication if nothing else can be done.

I’ve been taking it every other day and yesterday I took it for the second day in a row. I was surprisingly anxious even with all I had going on to distract me and Tom’s presence. It really sucks to have this going on in what is otherwise a good life that I could be enjoying even more than I do. This anxiety has been keeping me from enjoying life to the fullest and I’m getting sick of it. If this is how I have to live for the rest of my life then I don’t know that I want to go on living. I really think this is the one problem that’s not going to get better.

I got up at 6 a.m. yesterday and we left shortly after 11. I waved to Mrs. Twenties on the way out. We then headed for Folsom and of course we got lost because I fucked up the navigation on his phone. So he pulled over by the prison, got it working again, drove under the Johnny Cash Trail, and made it to the dermatologist on time despite the wet rainy roads.

The office was nice and I loved the decor. Lots of beautiful nature pics on the walls. The PA I saw was friendly, prompt, professional and informative. She didn’t really tell me anything I didn’t already know but recommended Zyrtec when the irritation is bad. As I suspected, lichen planus never goes away on its own. I try to tell myself with the anxiety that nothing lasts forever but then again some things really do change and never do go back to the way they were. This type of rash is one of those cases. She said that it was okay to use hydrocortisone and keep up with the Aquaphor as needed. She said to let them know if I ever have any open wounds that bleed for no reason or that won’t heal because that can be a sign of skin cancer. I guess the Zyrtec is supposed to keep you from getting as drowsy as Benadryl can make you.

So we had an hour and a half to kill after the dermatologist and I then realized I’d totally forgotten to put my designer nails on. The black matte nails with the silver accents. Not only are my nails gross unpolished cuz I have ridges, but Kathleen always checks my nails for the latest design and we kind of have a little game going. So I ran into Target and grabbed a bottle of pink Insta-Dri polish that’s supposed to dry in 60 seconds. I’d say it’s more like 360 seconds but it’s still good stuff. I only needed one coat. Even so, if I didn’t have to spend so much time feeling anxious and worrying about how to deal with anxiety, maybe I wouldn’t be as forgetful.

We got a bite to eat at Sonic where you sit in the car and eat. So no blasting music or screaming kids. Just a couple of loud car stereos but fortunately that was on the road when we were stopped at a light. I did my nails in the car and by the time we finished, it was time to zoom over to the dentist.

Kathleen was so funny. There wasn’t anyone in the waiting room at the time but she was eagerly leaning over the counter with a wide grin on her face as she saw me approach and said something like, “There’s my favorite patient.”

I zoomed up to the counter and she immediately took my hands, complimented my nails and said my hands were so soft, LOL. Then she asked how I was doing and how my writing was going. I told her it was slow because I hadn’t been feeling well. She talks very softly and there was background noise so I can’t quote her on every word she said but she mentioned something about a women’s convention (or was it a seminar?) and she’s “taking me with her.” She said something about it being where they get together and all that and asked if I wanted to come. I have a feeling it’s probably religious or spiritual-based but I’ll try almost anything at least once.

I kind of saw her in a different light now that I know her real age, and yeah, I can kind of see that she’s older. She still looks remarkable for her age and I can see where it’s easy to think she’s around my age if you don’t know any better.

So Michaela and some young girl that she’s training took me to the back of the place where they did an x-ray they did four years ago. That’s where you bite onto a plate, smile, and a camera kind of goes around your head.

I then expected Holly to clean my teeth but she’s on vacation in New Zealand. Michaela told me she just got back from Thailand. A woman named Dora whom I’d never seen before did my teeth and she cleaned them a little differently, using an electric scaler that almost seemed like a mini drill. She had the suction hose in one hand and the scaler in the other.

Realizing that once again my memory had gone to hell, I ran into the waiting room to get my mouthguard from my purse when Dora was done. I commented to Kathleen about my memory going to hell as I was passing through and she said something like, “You’re great, Jodi.”

Yeah, really great.

Then the doctor did the final exam and said everything looked good and she adjusted the mouthguard to fit better over the new crown. She said she could just cut it off if I wanted but I think she adjusted it well enough.

She liked my rat leggings as did the rest of the staff, LOL.

Didn’t get to say goodbye to Kathleen on the way out because she’d left for lunch. I told Michaela to tell her I said goodbye. Now it will be interesting to see if she contacts me before my September 19th appointment and how she handles the news of my schedule issues and driving phobia, though I think she already knows I don’t drive.

We noticed two modern SUVs at the place that just sold and that the sign was down, too. If those were the new owners then I’m relieved that they have quiet vehicles.

In case I haven’t already said so, our azaleas are starting to flower in front and I noticed a few days ago that the trees are budding their leaves as well.

More to write about, including dreams, but I’ll do it in another entry. I’m just way too tired today.

Later…

Tom’s home and in bed now and I’m definitely feeling better than I did at the start of my day. If I didn’t know any better I would swear I was bipolar, LOL. I woke up to rain and tears, but now it’s sunshine and peace. Well, it is getting dark now.

I got to “spy” on him earlier. I told him yesterday that it would be nice to activate the GPS on our phones so we could always know where each other was in case anything were to ever happen. So we installed Life360 which is an app that will keep track of everywhere you go unless you go somewhere without the phone, of course. That way, if he were ever on his way home and appeared to be in the same spot for too long, this would tell me something was up. The absolute worst-case scenario would be the thing telling me he was in the hospital if he got into an accident but at least I would know.

I don’t take my phone with me when I go running. I take my old phone to play music on but maybe I’ll start taking this one. It would be good to have a phone I could call out on in the event of an emergency, and that way if he wanted to know how close or far I was from home, for example, when he wanted to go to bed or something, he could see if it was worth waiting up for me. It would also be cool to track anywhere I may go with Kathleen.

The dentist and I agreed that if I ever have a problem again, we would just fill it or pull it. Even though we could afford to pay for the crowns ourselves, it’s a bit rough for me to go through anyway. I just wonder what the damn insurance companies are going to drop next! I worry about them dropping spousal coverage with the way America is so independence-obsessed. They want everyone to do everything on their own and so I worry they’re going to be like, if your spouse wants to be insured then they need to get their own job.

I watched him make his way home and at first, I was confused because it looked like he was circling around the same area. I was like, what the hell is he doing? Well, as he’s told me before, he has to walk across a huge parking lot to get to his car. He works in Rocklin and I could see him pass by Kathleen in Roseville and then finally Citrus Heights/Sac.

As I was looking with dismay (not that I haven’t known this for nearly 5 years) at just how close we are to the Eisenhower freeway, the answer to my question as to why I hear so many damn planes was clear when I spotted the Sacramento McClellan airport nearby.

My lungs were tight most of the day but since I do have an inhaler and that’s one of the very few things I can use without side effects, I took a puff and it helped relax my lungs. Love how it has a counter. I’ve only taken one puff so I have 204 left. Would have been nice if they had counters when I was on them regularly in the ‘90s.

Tom’s shoulder is still bothering him so he ordered a sling from Amazon and I got a couple more boxes of Amberen.

The new mugs are nice and I love the new kettle. It not only looks nicer in person but instead of a whistle, it makes a 2-toned horn sound that’s kind of cool. It’s different. You would think someone was leaning on their car horn.

Aly’s not doing well either. While she was told that she may have some bleeding she’s got a kick-ass period going now and is afraid the Novasure didn’t work. Therefore, her hematologist ordered her for a blood test tomorrow. Her lab numbers were better than she thought, though, so that much is good. But she still has skin issues and dizzy spells.

Plus, Kim has been texting and messaging her a million times with the same old shit and I guess Kim got mad at her because she’s not around as much. That’s because she’s been blowing her off as Aly feels she’s not only selfish but she’s frustrated with dealing with someone who can’t remember shit, isn’t as innocent as she lets on, and doesn’t seem to want to do much to help herself. I haven’t heard as much from Kim myself and I’m okay with that for those very reasons. I feel bad for her family situation and I know that she has limitations as well as physical and mental disabilities beyond her control, but some things she could control more if she wanted to. The damn memory issues get annoying. I had enough of that with Andy. Bottom line… I always did warm Aly that Kim never has been and never will be a true friend. She has little to no empathy, intelligence or understanding. She lives in her own fuzzy little bubble of delusion and believes she can do no wrong even though she offhandedly has admitted to lying. She’s very contradicting and hypocritical as well.

Got to admit it’s kind of funny how I would follow their tweets when neither one was in touch with me and I would wonder why Aly would choose Kim over me. Yet now, instead of her bitching to Kim about me, it’s her bitching to me about Kim. Funny how life turns out at times.

Okay, I may still not have remembered everything I wanted to write about, but now I’ll get to the last two nights of dreams and call myself caught up enough.

I was living in a house that seemed to have bedrooms on both ends of the house. I walked out of the living room which was in the center of the house and down a short hallway to a bedroom at the end of it. I noticed a shoe in the hallway and that the closet door in the bedroom was open. This told me that a burglar was present and I doubled back through the living room and into another bedroom to look for shoes to run outside in. But none of the shoes that were in a small pile on the floor seemed to fit. Then Tom entered from a door leading to a basement. The dream ended as I stepped back into the living room and saw him. I swear someone else was standing at the end of the hallway, too. Sure hope this wasn’t a glimpse into a parallel life!

The worst dream that woke me up was the giant spider that didn’t look like a spider. Its body was elongated and it was covered in this grayish-white fir. I was outdoors on the ground playing with a cat when I glanced over and saw the thing nearby. I thought that I better spray the bastard because that was the second time I’d seen it. Then it crawled right over to me and the cat. Instead of jumping up and running, I was literally frozen in fear and that’s when I woke up.

Then Tom and I were invited to Bob and Virginia’s for dinner in the last dream I remember having the night before the dentist. I went to say something and it started to come out a little too loud at the same instant I accidentally bumped the edge of my plate which caused one side of it to bounce an inch or two on the table. This left me a bit embarrassed, haha.

In last night’s dream, I was hanging out by myself in some old trailer. The trailer was parked near water and when I looked outside one of the windows I could see the moonlight reflecting on the water.

Then I was looking out the window of this place at someone’s mutt barking at 1:30 in the morning. That better not ever fucking happen!

Lastly, I was in the backseat of a car that some guy was driving. Next to him was a large woman who was in her 30s or 40s. She had blonde hair pulled up in a bun. The guy was driving her to work and I was to accompany her that day and I guess help her out or something. He parked by a river or stream and he jokingly made like he was going to zoom right into it before he hit the brakes and brought the car to a stop. I asked if the water was cold and he said, “Hell, yeah.”

TUESDAY, MARCH 20, 2018 Being that I love to learn things, I browse educational videos at times on YouTube, and one of the most interesting videos I watched recently was one on how to spot liars by their body language, the way they say things, etc. I’ve known of several of these tactics for a while now but it was cool to learn even more. We all lie so I don’t mind white lies every now and then as long as they aren’t too often. But yeah, when someone asks me how I’m doing, I will sometimes say “fine” even if I may be feeling anxious or pissed off about something. So everybody lies to a degree. Once a person gets to the gray lies, however, I seriously start re-evaluating my friendship with them. Let’s just say that they better have a good excuse for going gray on me! Once they go black on me, though, forget it. I’m gone.

Doing loud projects during the daytime is annoying. Doing them into the evening is rude. Yes, sometimes I get sick of certain things, including chasing after those who obviously don’t want to keep in touch. I’ve waited on Tammy long enough and now I’m wondering how long it will take her to admit she doesn’t want me in her life.

10 minutes Bowflexing, 15 minutes walking outdoors, 20 minutes treadmilling. Why can’t I always be this consistent? Well, I was yesterday but today I’m deliberately taking a break. I was up 18 hours and unable to fall asleep until after 10 PM. Then I didn’t quite sleep 8 hours so I’m a little tired today. Exercise gives you energy and I would prefer to keep at least somewhat non-energetic so that I can sleep better tonight, get caught up, and feel rested for my two appointments tomorrow.

It’s supposed to rain for the rest of the week so the guys working on Geri’s place until nearly 7 PM should be giving me a break from the hammering and sawing for a while.

I talked to the “Twenties” yesterday while they were quietly working out front. I joked about having the rats dig up and loosen their soil for them. They don’t know who bought the house across from them, they liked my sparkly shoes, and they’re having weekend company from Delmar for a wedding. I’m sure I’ll hear every single car door slam, too. I just hope the hell they’re not staying in an RV on the street!

I now have 170 followers on Pinterest and another royalty payment coming. :-)

I still get random PMS symptoms but no periods or spotting, so maybe the dream I had a while back did mean something. But sometimes I’ll get really bitchy for no reason or start retaining enough water to fill the Sacramento River until my bladder throws a piss party like it did last night…at the very end of my day of course.

I took the baby Benadryl when I was anxious over the weekend and it didn’t seem to calm me down or make me drowsy. Took one last night when Sleepytime tea wouldn’t even knock me out and then I did fall asleep. I don’t know if I would have fallen asleep anyway or the Benadryl knocked me out because I was tired.

I took my meds today and was worried that I wouldn’t be anxious, but 3.5 hours later I’m still calm. If I can get to around noon, I’m golden. :-) 75 mcg a day comes to 525 a week. 50 mcg is 350 a week. Skipping every other day, which is about 37 mcg a week, is 260 a week. My new medication plan is to skip every Monday and Thursday, which will be 375 a week. I’m hoping to hell this will FINALLY stop the anxiety from biting in the first place when I go flaring.

Aly said her hematologist dropped her and wouldn’t return her calls and she doesn’t know why, so she had to get a new one. I wonder if A will drop me in June but a part of me hopes she will because then I have an excuse to get someone that not only may be more helpful and willing to work with me instead of against me, but that’s closer as well.

My hairline is noticeably thinner no doubt due to age and my thyroid, but when I read that Rogaine can cause chest pain, swelling, and a rapid heartbeat, I decided I’d rather go bald. I don’t have any bald spots but the hair is very thin. It seems to have thinned more after dying it so that probably has a role in it as well.

Last night I dreamed that Bob, who pulled an old charger from a shelf in his kitchen that had old albums on it, handed it to me and said not to be surprised if it didn’t work. Then it was as if I was inside his place in the living room where I could hear him snoring from his bedroom. I wondered where Virginia was and then I realized she was probably in bed with him.

Then I dreamed that Tom and I were getting into a car on a steep grassy mountain. Some car whose parking breaks failed started to roll erratically down the hill. I was urging Tom to hurry up and beat it down the hill before it had a chance to crash into us rather than wait and see where it ended up first.

Then I was walking on a street at night. I just turned the corner when I heard a loud vehicle approaching and hoped it wouldn’t turn down the street I was on because it was so loud. A split second later I was indoors at Aly’s place. She spotted me with no pants or underwear on and I was embarrassed at the thought of her thinking I shave my pubes, for some reason, when it only looks that way because body hair thins with age. Tom and I were getting ready to move there.

Then I picked up a voice message from Andy who was wondering why I hadn’t returned his calls. Realizing I been so busy with the upcoming move to Nebraska, I made a mental note to call him right away.

MONDAY, MARCH 19, 2018 Skipped my meds today and am starting to feel better. Sadly, my anxiety issues still point to either a direct connection to the meds or an indirect connection fueled by flare-ups. This means I may be worse tomorrow when I take my meds. Just because I feel okay now (not great but okay) doesn’t mean I may not feel worse later, however. I still want my thyroid removed, my dose lowered, or both. I just worry that A isn’t going to be willing to work with me and help me, thus forcing me into the pain in the ass of having to get another doctor. If worse comes to worst maybe I’ll see Tom’s doctor. He’s a guy, but being both male and Muslim, there’s never any waiting time. He’s also closer.

A guy who follows me on PB said a tablespoon of apple cider vinegar a day can help regulate cholesterol levels. I looked this up and that is listed as one of the health benefits of apple cider vinegar, but since I can’t drink the stuff straight up, I’ve added a tablespoon to my bottled water.

Aly had a shitty weekend between eczema, anemia, and an allergic reaction to something. She said she has to use a medicated body wash and is on what’s called a broad-spectrum antibiotic.

Tammy still hasn’t called and I’m through chasing after those who obviously don’t want to keep in touch. I don’t know if she’s fucking with me or if she’s got some seriously heavy-duty shit going on in her life, but as Tom pointed out, Tammy always thinks there’s drama going on. That’s just how she is. Oh, well. She isn’t going to die anytime soon. She would have told me if she was.

I wonder if, whenever she dies, it will hit the girls nearly a fraction of how hard their bastard father hit them when he died. Sure enough, I decided to check Becky’s wall to see if maybe she’s finally been able to move on at least a little, but sure enough, there’s a picture of her forearm with her new daddy tat. Would there be a mommy tat if Tammy died? Somehow I doubt it.

Tom is thinking of taking a week off in May. He may get his appointment moved up to the same week I have my ENT appointment and take that whole week off. That way we can do the second mural we want to do in the living room, maybe have the oven delivered then, and decide what to do about the roof.

Yesterday was surprisingly quiet but today I expect it to be pretty noisy as people get as much landscaping done in what may be the only day they can do it this week. It’s going to be raining from Tuesday on.

Last night I dreamed I was dragging a cardboard box with something wet in it that was leaking out of it towards the front door of Stacey’s house, only Stacey’s house was a big two-story house. When I opened the front door there were several wide cement steps leading up to the place and a fairly busy street about 50’ away. Some guy in a pickup slowed down and called something out to me.

Then there was something about Kathleen and my dentist but I’m not sure what.

Then I was asking Tom to evaluate my various body parts and he said he could see the muscle in my shoulders and abs but my legs looked flabby.

Now I’m going to go catch up on Bubbly before it gets noisy. Not sure if I’m going to keep copying links from there because it’s not like I’m ever going to want to go back and listen to what I said way back when. At least I don’t think I would.

SUNDAY, MARCH 18, 2018 We had to cancel the flower tea kettle because FedEx damaged it en route and then the seller, a drop shipper, ran out of them. Instead, I’m getting this cute pink flamingo kettle. It’s safe for gas stoves and I like whistling kettles, which is what it is.

I also couldn’t resist this adorable set of rainbow mugs I got a great deal on in which the rims are a different color on each one. There’s purple, blue, orange, red, green and yellow.

Finished Law & Order’s 18th year and now I’m watching the pilot of Seven Seconds. I’m liking it despite the fact that as usual, race has to be involved.

Yesterday we dyed my hair. It’s now long enough that it takes two kits, but would probably only need one if it was women’s dye. It’s a little darker than I’d like but better than gray.

Went to Walmart early yesterday morning and got black gemstone flip-flops with a slight heel, plus he got some black canvas shoes for himself. I’ve been wearing the same flip-flops for a few years now so variety is nice and black goes with everything.

Recently, I had been bitching about all the projects around here and said that next, Lawrence will die or sell his place. Well, the paramedics were there yesterday. They were there for several minutes but I didn’t actually see anyone get taken out, so I don’t know what happened. I just know it would really suck for that place to turn over while we were still here being so close to the bedroom. It wouldn’t be as bad as Bob and Virginia but more worrisome than the Twenties and Trisha.

Started copying my Bubbly voice post links into a Word doc file and backing them up on PB as well. This way I can quickly access the older ones if I wanted to, instead of having to scroll and scroll forever.

Skipped yesterday’s dose and I’m starting to feel better. I had caffeinated tea instead of caffeinated coffee when I got up, too.

Still nothing from Tammy. She’s either playing with me or she’s got something really serious going on with her or maybe it’s on Mark. I don’t know until she decides to take the time she takes to check in to Facebook to check in with me. Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s not good. She rarely has any good news. That’s just how she’s always been. And when she does have good news it tends to be exaggerated just like her bad news is.

Tom’s bad news is his shoulder injury. He thought it was his elbow at first but then he Googled his symptoms and found that it actually stems from his shoulder and is similar to the sciatic nerve injury he had. Icing it helps but it’s otherwise “so painful you could cut my arm off and I wouldn’t even notice,” he says.

Last night I dreamed I was lying on a gurney or table in an exam room somewhere. A woman I assume was a nurse, placed a hand in the center of my chest and said she felt clogged arteries in that area. Although I’m sure the dream meant nothing, it’s still not a thrilling dream for a dream premonitioner to have.

Then Tom and I were country-living again in the next dream in a house that we seemed to own, but first, I was at a buffet with someone loading up on all kinds of stuff. A guy behind the counter was talking about alcoholic drinks with the word rainbow in its name, so of course I was suddenly interested even though I almost never drink, LOL. But instead of getting the rainbow drink, I was home a split second later. It seemed to be a long ranch-style house I was in and I was looking out the front window for the pizza delivery I was expecting. I guess I was really hungry that night. The land around us seemed deserty with clumps of sage and a landscape that sort of slanted upwards as the sun was just about to dip below the horizon off in the distance.

When I looked out front I saw two cars had arrived and knew one was the pizza and the other was Tom. I had Alexa turn off the music I had playing before running to pull cash for the food out of my purse. I thought I was grabbing tens but instead, I grabbed single dollar bills in frustration just as Tom entered the place.

FRIDAY, MARCH 16, 2018 Here we go again with the woodpecker that ONLY we hear. Yeah, I knew it would be starting up anytime now. This is the time of year they get more active. So now I’ll have to listen to this shit regularly for months.

Tom thinks the Amberen nurse is lying about me possibly being sensitive to the synthetic version of my medication because it’s her job to sell Amberen and therefore she would blame other things for my symptoms. I’m still going to bring up the possibility to my doctor, but if that’s the case, it should be illegal for people to have what’s supposed to be real nurses lying to people.

After taking my meds, sure enough, I got anxious and I’ve been having waves of anxiety on and off for the last 9 hours. So since Tom was home I took a Benadryl and that did help, but like most things, it only helped for a while. It made me really drowsy and caused me to nap for about an hour. I’m getting baby Benadryl to see if that will still help, even if it’s only a temporary fix, but without knocking me out.

Words can’t express how hopeless I feel right now. I really don’t think I’m ever going to return to me as I’d always known me to be before 2014 when this shit started. I just can’t believe that the problem will ever go away no matter what I do. I’m totally losing hope. This is the new me for life just like I got fat and that was the new me for life and I got farsighted and that was the new me, and so on and so forth. But there’s no fucking way I can live with this for another 20-30 years. Just no fucking way.

I am totally tempted to have Doc A refill my lorazepam and drink down the whole bottle and be done with this suffering forever, even if there may be an afterlife that’s a million times worse. It’s just that I’m a seriously gutless person either way. I don’t have the guts to go on and I don’t think I could ever muster up the guts to kill myself unless I lost Tom, and even then, who knows? Maybe I would be such a chickenshit that I would allow myself to starve in the streets or commit a crime so I could have food and shelter in jail. But yeah, this shit is really zapping my will to live. And instead of adapting, it just drives me crazier the longer I suffer. I don’t understand why I can adapt easily to some things while other things I can never get used to. I can’t get used to noise, I can’t get used to sleeping through noise, and I sure as hell can’t get used to feeling anxious. And I thought dwelling on us growing old and dying was the worst of my problems. I wish it was! I wish my TMJ, teeth, skin, noise or money were my worst problems. Even the fucking shitsters down in Arizona didn’t have me feeling so bad. When I would become overwhelmed with “anxiety” from having to stay in the 4-man cell; that still didn’t compare to this.

It would make it a whole lot easier on me if I could know for sure that this shit would stop upon reaching full-blown menopause. But you know what? I have a bad feeling it’s not going to be that easy. Especially since I would think I should be awfully close by now with only one period in nine months, even if the last one was only a few months ago. Even if there’s a connection, I still think the problem lies within the medication and or flares. Well, I can’t stop the medication and I can’t stop flaring. So where does that leave me? Trapped. That’s where.

I finally heard from Tammy who said she’ll be calling to let me know what’s going on, but you know what? I don’t want to hear it. I know it’s going to be the same old negative stuff about her health, and it’s not like I don’t care or empathize, but our chats are always about her health. It’s very hard for me to get a word in edgewise. If I didn’t say anything about my own life, she would ask little to no questions about me. It’s like how Aly gets frustrated with Kim. It’s all about her suffering.

It rained all night which kept the planes out of the sky. It’s not raining at the moment but it’s very wet out there.

I only remember a couple of quick dreams last night. Glimpses into parallel lives? Again, I wonder about this. I was walking along a snowy street in one dream. It wasn’t snowing at the moment but there were several inches on the ground. I glanced to my left and passed a few people hanging out talking but what may’ve been apartments. I got the impression I wasn’t in a great neighborhood with great people either.

I also dreamed that I was pulling some old dolls out of a box and setting them up somewhere.

THURSDAY, MARCH 15, 2018 Written Wednesday morning:

Even though I’m tired I want to document my discussion with a nurse at the makers of Amberen while it’s still fresh in my mind. I had mild anxiety throughout most of my day and then it got really bad. Sleepytime tea, Ibuprofen, emotional tapping… nothing was helping. Nothing. It would start to seem like it was backing off but then I would have waves of anxiety going through my chest. No racing heart, though.

I was sitting at my desk when I casually glanced at the box of Amberen sitting on it and the toll-free number written on the box. So I called and pressed the option for speaking to a nurse and told her that Amberen has relieved all my perimenopausal symptoms except for anxiety. She was surprised, saying that that’s usually the first symptom people find relief from. Then she said she suspected the cause of my anxiety may not be the hormonal fluctuations. This is when I told her that I was diagnosed with Hashimoto’s and put on Levothyroxine 4 years ago. She asked me if my thyroid levels could be off and I told her they were a little high because if I take enough medication to get my numbers normal, I have epic levels of anxiety. She then said I could be sensitive to the medication. I told her that’s exactly what my gut feeling has always told me and that I never had a problem with anxiety until I was put on anything above 50 mcg. I told her that my doctor told me it was the same stuff our bodies made anyway and she didn’t think it was the medication. At that point, she laughed and said they love to say that because that’s what they’re advocating; that medication. Also, she admitted that she wasn’t a doctor and was sure my doctor would disagree with her but that my doctor was welcome to call them anytime. She also pointed out that while it may be the same stuff our bodies make, it’s still a synthetic version and so the body can react to it differently. The more I thought about this the more it made sense because no matter what great kinds of chemicals we may come up with, nothing can replace the real thing. It’s like baby formula. It can’t quite duplicate breast milk, can it?

She said I should really advocate for myself and get the issue addressed once and for all if I think the medication could be the problem. Oh, I definitely plan to advocate, all right. I’ve had enough of this fucking bullshit cycle year after year. Not saying I don’t have flareups or peri, but I think if I never had to go on this medication in the first place, I would find that I had little to no anxiety from the peri. Just the timing and the intensity of this shit is enough to indicate it’s tied to the medication. It wasn’t until they raised my dose that I started having these problems and it just seems way too intense to be on the peri. I need to be cut back or put on something else. I wasn’t on 50 mcgs for long and while it’s possible I could still have a problem on that after a while if I’m that sensitive to the synthetic version, I don’t think I would. Yes, my TSH will be in the teens on 50s, but before I was diagnosed and medicated it was in the 30s and I didn’t have anxiety. I tell you, it’s the meds. Another thing that points to the meds is that in the summer of 2016, the doctor told me I still had good estrogen. Well, if perimenopausal anxiety is caused by falling estrogen levels, then why have I been anxious since 2014? I was showing some symptoms then like some hot flashes, sleep disturbances, and periods that were becoming irregular. Tom says there are more hormones involved than just estrogen and I know this is true, so maybe I did really go into peri while I still had good estrogen. Sure felt like it started coming on around 2014.

Then she asked if I was waiting 4 hours to take the Amberen, which confirmed that she really knew what she was talking about because most people don’t know that you should wait 4 hours after the medication before you take even something like Amberen. Nothing should ever be taken with Levothyroxine except for painkillers and only if necessary.

I’m definitely going to start skipping doses more often to ward off the anxiety from setting in in the first place. I think the only reason I was doing better last fall was that I had gotten so fed up with the anxiety last summer that I started skipping every other day for two or three weeks and it took a while for my levels to build back up when I started taking it more often. I don’t want to do anything extreme and quit the medication altogether because my body still needs this hormone. There’s no need to be so black-and-white about it. All I’m saying is that I can’t take 75 or more anymore. It’s simply too much for my body no matter what anyone says and no matter what their fucking numbers say. Furthermore, the only way to find out for sure if I’m right is to actually lower the damn dose for a good 6 months or so and see how I do. If I’m still anxious then I’ll have no problem with admitting and accepting that I was wrong, and then take it from there. I can’t keep suffering like this year after year. It’s too much for me. Sooner or later it’s going to drive me to do something stupid if it doesn’t let up and I don’t want that either. It is a horrible, HORRIBLE way to live. It’s scary as hell. They say our gut feeling is usually correct. If my gut feeling says it’s on the medication, then it probably is, with or without flare-ups and perimenopause in the picture. Maybe in a few years I can tolerate this dose without issue, but I don’t think so. I just want to worry about right now anyway, not what might be the case in a few years. And right now I can’t tolerate this dose and it needs to be lowered or some other alternative needs to be implemented.

There is absolutely nothing going on in my life that should make me even remotely stressed out let alone anxious as hell. I may be annoyed by noise and other little nuisances like that in life, but there is absolutely no reason I should feel this way. Well, I’ve had enough! When my life was shitty prior to 2012 and I was stressing over money and our day-to-day survival, I STILL didn’t feel this way. Go into my pre-2014 journals and see how often you can find the word “anxiety.”

I forgot that I got Benadryl to act as the new Lorazepam but I might not have had the guts to take it had I remembered it. That’s the thing about anxiety… Everything becomes scary.

Tom thinks the peri is causing flareups because I still had anxiety the other day after a couple of skips, but that’s the thing about Levothyroxine… It takes months to leave the body. The shit’s still in my system. But I do get better overall when I back off.

Sometimes I wonder why I even bother living. I could ask my doctor for a Lorazepam refill, down it all, and never wake up again just to have to deal with one long-term crisis after another for the rest of my life as I’ve always done. Believe me, it’s a tempting idea at times. I don’t need this shit and Tom doesn’t need it either. I almost wish I could ditch doctors altogether. I went to them 4 years ago and all they’ve done is make me worse. The foot doctor did get rid of my ingrown toenail, and my GYN helped me if only a little, but otherwise they made me worse, not better.

IDK, maybe there is something up there and this is its way of saying hey, I made you hypo for a reason, and this is the way it’s forcing me to be the hypo I was meant to be. But then why can others tolerate this drug without any issues? Why is it always me that has to have the problems? Being hypo is very annoying but it didn’t kill me, and if worst comes to worst and that’s what I have to be again, it won’t kill me this time around either. But you know what? I’d rather something - anything - kill me than let me live to suffer. Can’t take thyroid meds, can’t take statins… I get it, God. You want me to suffer. But it’s my life and my body and I say no more! I’m done with this shit and if death is the only way to stop the suffering, so be it. First I’m going to start with hoping a lower dosage is the answer. If not, I’ll decide what to do then. But I’m not going to keep suffering on and off year after year from what ranges from a horrible sense of irrational unease to downright terror. Hell, I even called Tom and told him about my chat with the nurse.

My own sister and nieces have been ghosting me and I wonder why. They’ve been pulling a Maliheh on me more and more. I’ve asked Tammy several times what the tests were for and what the results were when she told me on the 25th of last month that she was having a bunch of tests done, and she’s completely blown off my Facebook messages as well as the email I sent and the message I tagged her in on my wall. So what’s up? Because I’m not a God fan? Won’t forgive certain family members? Wish they would either tell me to fuck off or just tell me what the hell’s really going on.

Anyway, the rain kept it quiet yesterday but then we had a little bit of a dry spell in which the planes promptly began to make up for lost time. We’ve got to be in a flight path.

Took the 6 citrus teas over to next-door, and later slept shittily. Yes, something is always determined to fuck with my sleep. If it isn’t traffic, it’s something else. This time around it was ferociously loud thunder and then Alexa rebooting.

Aly had that Novasure procedure done yesterday and there were issues with her blood pressure, so she had to go to the hospital for a while. She said she was so sorry she wasn’t there for me after seeing my tweet about the anxiety, but I told her I know she’s there for me even when she can’t be.

Going through journals reminded me to check jail inmates again for the first time in a while, as I think I recently mentioned. When I found that Jailhouse Kim was in yet again for what’s got to be at least the fourth time, I couldn��t resist fucking with her so I sent her a letter saying that her friend contacted me on Facebook and asked that I send her a little “inspiration.” Yeah, go ahead, God, if you exist, and punish me. You make me suffer when I behave so why not for sending someone a letter that is no doubt going to shock them and make them wonder who the hell I am, even if she may have a good idea. I reminded her that she chose crime over her kids because I know it will really get to her, and while I appreciated the help she gave me to break me into jail life, I always resented her as well. She would be correct if she said I wouldn’t have the guts to say that to her face in person. Not with commissary and visitation to lose I wouldn’t. I also asked her what life with Jodi Arias was like, pointed out how much she must love prison if she keeps going back to it, mentioned some inmates I used to know (some of whom are there), and said a few weird things to keep her guessing and wondering. I wish I had an invisible camera embedded in the letter so I could see and hear her reaction when she gets and reads it. LOL

Even though I didn’t do anything illegal, I didn’t put a return address on and I didn’t leave any physical evidence, although I did address it by hand. I wonder if she got and saved my first letter? That way she can compare handwriting if she wants to. Kim may be a loser who would rather be in prison than deal with the real world, but she is intelligent. I wonder if she wonders if I’ll write her every time she’s hauled into prison. Yeah, maybe, haha.

I also wonder if she sees Rosa but I doubt it. I think Rosa is in something called the Santa Cruz Unit. The beggar is in the Lumley Unit. Pretty sure that’s where Jodi is.

Last night I dreamed I pierced my nose six times with these little tiny studded earrings, LOL. I did a group of three on the right lower side of my nose and then I somehow managed to do another group of three on the upper left side of my nose toward my eye. As I studied all the little studs in the mirror, I wondered if I should mention it to Tom when he got home or see how long it would take him to notice. Then I thought he might be worried that some were “too close to my brain.”

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 14, 2018 It’s a rainy night tonight as I begin to enjoy the awesome and huge variety of tea I got today. Half are decaf, half aren’t. I’m having eggnog tea now. I’ve got every flavor imaginable. I like black tea but I don’t know if I’m going to like the green tea. Green tea can make me nauseous.

I read on my box of Sleepytime tea that it has 25 mg of valerian root, and when I looked up valerian root pills online, I found that the average dose is 500 mg. I was shocked because I would think that if 25 mg can relax me as it does then 500 might send me right into a coma. A couple of people said the opposite, though, and that it made their hearts race. No way I’m messing with pills unnecessarily.

Not impressed with the honey sticks I got. I thought you stirred them into the tea and that they dissolved as you stirred them but apparently not. They’re like little straws and you have to snip the ends and pour the honey out.

My new sweatpants fit better being a smaller size and now all I’m waiting on is my beautiful tea kettle.

That strange vibration in my head is back again and a quick check said it’s menopause or Parkinson’s. I think I can guess which one it is.

I have what I believe are three different types of dreams. Reflection dreams based on what’s going on in my life, glimpses into possible parallel lives, and messages/dream premonitions. I don’t know if the right word is psychic, intuitive, or whatever. I just really wish the bad dreams/vibes would stop. Tammy’s giving me horrible vibes and then I dreamed something about feeling the need to get out of the state while I still could, like I would get sick or something bad would happen to me if I didn’t get out as soon as I could. I don’t know if someone was telling me this, or I just had this feeling, or I had a dream that I dreamed this.

At least Irene got to visit in my dreams. :-) I entered the kitchen as she was doing something by the sink and in German, she said there wasn’t any more milk. I replied in German saying that there would be more in the morning.

TUESDAY, MARCH 13, 2018 Aly thanked me a million times for telling her about emotional tapping, saying that it helped her a lot when she felt like she was going to panic. The poor thing sleeps shitty and has to take a medication that makes her nauseous even with another medication to help combat that. Next week she’ll return to the lab to see if it helped. I hope so. I know she doesn’t want to have to have a transplant.

I also hope that the dream I had last night doesn’t mean anything. It really sucked! Tom and I lived in a two-bedroom, one-bathroom apartment that was in the middle of a strip of apartments all on one floor. The place was smallish and I could see it in vivid detail. There was only one entry door. You walked into the kitchen and then you stepped through a doorway to the right and into the living room. Then down the hallway at the opposite end of the living room was a bathroom to the left, then a bedroom, and then a larger bedroom straight ahead at the end of the hall.

There was a storm going on or something because all of a sudden I was standing in the living room and it was dark like the lights had gone out or something. There may have been a small dog in the room as I made my way to the door to look for Tom, whose voice I thought I just heard. When I opened the door and glanced outside, the wind was gushing unlike anything I’d ever felt before and I was now worried about him. It was very dark out and I couldn’t see anything or anyone anywhere. I was tempted to step out and look for him but I knew that our door would lock behind me if I did, plus I was barefoot. I woke up as I went to get my shoes on.

And then I also had snippets of dreams that only lasted a second or two. Something about Linda Ronstadt having medication on her bed for a yeast infection when we were in her house.

Next, I was hanging out with a few black people and one of them wanted me to call someone on a young black girl’s behalf. I was afraid to make the call in front of others, though, who were coming and going because I didn’t want them to think I was trying to get her in any kind of trouble.

Then I was watching a group of adults remove seatbelts from some kids that had arrived nearby in a small bus, suggesting they may have been disabled or something.

I loved having Tom working at home on the conference call last night. Sometimes I wonder if I would feel better if he worked at home during the night, slept during the morning, and maybe went in in the afternoon for a few hours like he did today. But then anxiety is anxiety and I can have flareups anytime, anywhere, with anyone around… or not. Felt great yesterday and so far today but I’m having my precautionary Sleepytime tea to see if that helps keep the anxiety from setting in in the first place.

I’m trying a new cleaning schedule to see if that helps me be more thorough. I hate dusting so much that I tend to cut corners, go too fast, and blow off dusting certain sections. This way, instead of going through the whole house in four days every other week, I clean something every day but just a small section at a time, ending up with the same sections every other week.

Andy has always been into multiple accounts much like Kim and Aly, so if he really wanted to see what he could see of my Facebook account, all he has to do is look in from another account… and find my link to Curious Cat. Well, someone anonymously slipped me a video of a black man giving another black man a verbal beating. Instinctively, I thought of Andy right away. It came at a time when I knew he would be up, too. When I jumped on the main feed, though, I could see that someone else got the same video, which bumped my doubt up a notch. Still might’ve been him, but if it was, why now? Plus, he’d probably be more likely to choose a video of whites defending blacks or blacks picking on whites to make a point. Oh, I remember those little “statement” pics. He was such a black lover and defender.

It’s raining today so I’m hoping that that will keep things quiet until I go to bed which should be around noon. It got up to 72 degrees again yesterday but I still slept well. In fact, I slept better than I did on Sunday because I didn’t wake up as much. I just had that shitty dream.

I feel totally ghosted by Tammy and the girls and I feel like they don’t really want me in their lives. I don’t know what the hell’s going through their minds for sure or what’s going on in their daily lives. I only know how I feel. I know Tammy’s got to be getting my messages. The question is… if she can take the time to check in, why not the time to make a quick reply more often? It’s almost like she gets off on having me wait on her like Maliheh did more and more before she ghosted me altogether. Not saying that they’re going to do that to me, but it’s like they’re trying to keep me at arm’s length. I know I should be okay with that and see the good in it because that way there’s less risk for potential conflict as opposed to if we were always around each other and in touch more often, but I feel like something’s going on that they’re not telling me. Sometimes I wonder if Tammy’s health is a lot worse than she wants to admit but I don’t think so. She loves to whine to others about her health. She’s also quick to let someone know when she has a problem with them, so that’s why neither theory makes sense. She’s playing with me or there’s something else up that I don’t know about.

I think I’m going to stay off Facebook altogether (I’m not into it anyway) and see how she reacts. Hello if someone messages me because I get notifications by phone. Like I would try to get myself to do with Nane and Maliheh, it’s time to make her wait on me.

MONDAY, MARCH 12, 2018 I’m actually typing this instead of using speech-to-text so I don’t disturb Tom’s meeting. Yeah, this is kinda fun, LOL. He’s being paid hundreds of dollars just to sit in on a business meeting via Skype. The original plan was for him to go in and work for about 4 hours. This is the first time he’s ever gone in on a Sunday that I can remember. When I got up to find he still wasn’t home at almost 7:00, I was a bit worried, though not alarmed. I figured there was some trouble with the system upgrade they’ve been implementing at work. So I logged into Skype and sure enough, that’s what was up. He didn’t get in till 10:00 and an hour later he’s still working on his business laptop and on Skype with half a dozen others trying to fix their problems. I guess no one’s going to bed tonight, LOL.

So with the combination of valerian root, his presence, and a peaceful night other than the planes, I’m in a much better mood than yesterday. Yeah, sorry about that but everything was getting to me yesterday and sometimes you just need to pitch a fit, be it verbally, in print, or whatever. With nothing to say there’s a lifespan to Hashimoto’s flareups like perimenopause has a lifespan, it can really give me a bleak outlook on things at times. I had been doing so much better with the anxiety, too.

It’s one of those things that when I feel good, that’s just it… I feel good. But when I don’t, things can often seem hopeless, leaving me feeling stuck and helpless. When I think of those who say that God helps those that help themselves I want to shove this wad of gum I’m chewing up their noses as that’s just a total crock, if there even is a God. I’ve been trying to figure this out for nearly 4 years now. However, I think I should pay more attention to the Ibuprofen/valerian thing. They do seem to help a bit. Maybe not as much as I’d like but I guess some help is better than none. I haven’t felt bad enough to reach for Ibuprofen the last couple of days, but Sleepytime tea is a real blessing. I was “bad” yesterday too, by indulging in sugary treats and an extra cup of coffee. I had just one cup today and am avoiding sugar and cholesterol as much as possible. My “un-statined” body doesn’t need the extra cholesterol anyway.

Anyway, when I don’t feel so well I try to remind myself that I thought we’d be broke all our lives and I was wrong. Nothing lasts forever. So hopefully the anxiety won’t either. It’s just getting hard to believe this mantra with each year that this shit continues to go on. Also, I’d rather be broke again than suffer.

Tom just said it’s no problem if I use speech to text because he can shut his door. The beauty of not having an open floor plan in this house is that sound doesn’t travel as easily throughout the place. Anyway, using speech-to-text has spoiled me. I pretty much hate to type these days but it’s still better than writing by hand like I used to many years ago.

He’ll be losing a lot of sleep tonight but making a shitload of money. Hey, this is Cali, where everything pays a fortune and then costs you a fortune. Apparently, I’m far from the only one on a wacky schedule here too, even if it’s not by choice in my case. When Tom retires he’s going to just sleep whenever he needs to sleep whether or not it’s at the same time every night (or day). We don’t believe in schedules even if I still wish I could keep one at times. He can adjust his for appointments in a day, though, if he has to. It takes me over a week to do that.

We went out at 4 AM yesterday to Walgreens where we got a few treats and another really cool set of designer stick-on nails. Metallic bluish-green with silver glitter accents.

On the way back we saw at least half a dozen rule-breakers, which didn’t surprise us in the least. You’re not supposed to park in the street overnight yet despite the park actually attempting to do something about this particular problem, people just don’t care. They’re gonna do what they’re gonna do.

Ordered some stuff from Amazon last night. Got another pair of purple sweatpants only in size medium this time because the large was too big for me.

Plus, I got a 100-pack of honey sticks that you use like coffee stirs in tea. They can be used as snacks or in tea actually. They even have chocolate sticks to stir into milk. Along with the honey sticks, I got a Bigelow’s tea sampler with 54 tea bags for just $13. That’s a damn good deal! There are only a couple I won’t like such as the orange and lemon zinger. You know I hate citrus.

Lastly, I got this absolutely GORGEOUS floral tea kettle with tulips, daisies, poppies and lilies. I figure I’ll just use regular tap water and save on bottled water which I prefer to put through the Keurig. This also gives me the option of making a pot of tea if I want to. Hell, if my Sleepytime tea keeps making me feel calmer then I’m going to practically drown myself in the stuff.

Slept better than I thought I would yesterday. I still woke up several times, but except for the time I got up to pee, I fell right back to sleep. Not once did I wake up from the motorcycles I expected to wake up from.

I have declared my CampNaNo project along with my bestie and will be looking forward to having fun with Reunion of Innocents, but will probably do that one just for fun and not for future publication. This will be the Palma reunion story.

Kim has done nothing but rant about her SIL to both Aly and I, and Aly feels she’s gotten very selfish in that all she wants to do is whine about her problems without bothering to care or ask about Aly’s. On top of that, there’s nothing more we can do other than what we’ve already suggested. I feel bad for her, but as Aly and I both agree, it’s unlikely that she’s as innocent as she’s claiming to be. Like it or not, Kim has always been a pathological liar and probably always will be. I don’t know how aware of her actions she is, but she’s incredibly contradicting at times. She’s told us that her mother is just as scared of her SIL, but then she said her mother squealed on Kim for not using soap or something like that, after using the bathroom.

She got fired from work for her attitude, but since the boss is a friend of the SILs, I guess something is going to be worked out. Also, I guess she and her sister want her and her mother to lose more weight but since they haven’t, they don’t get to go on their upcoming road trip to Georgia or some shit like that. It’s a strange family indeed.

SUNDAY, MARCH 11, 2018 Waking up to the tune of power saws and hammering 4 days in a row is not a thrilling thing to have to wake up to. I am SO totally beyond sick of this shit and having to listen to one project after another here! You would think that getting up at 5 p.m. would spare you from the bulk of the noise, but now they’re working into the evening and daylight savings isn’t helping with that either as it only enables them to work later as it stays lighter later. The thing is that as long as it’s between 8 a.m. and 10 p.m., we can be as noisy as we want. :-(

I managed to sleep well today since they’re working on the other side of the house, but tomorrow, the motorcycle gangs are going to be waking me up like crazy. Despite spending hundreds of dollars on soundproofing material, extra windows, and sleeping with sound machines and earplugs, I STILL get woken up. So many vehicles are just so ferociously loud these days that one would need to be hundreds of feet away from the road.

I’m also kind of irritated with myself for not adapting and getting used to it after all these years. I’ve never lived in a quiet place yet. At least not as an adult. Auburn would have been quiet if it hadn’t been for Jesse and his damn dogs, but the world is never going to sound like it did in the 70s and even the 80s, so you would think I would have adjusted to this shit by now.

I’ve lived in many places yet never have I heard landscaping nearly every day or so many fucking projects being done. Not even the apartments I had in Arizona had this much shit going on and they definitely had more going on than when I lived back east. Plus, there is the insane amount of loud vehicles and all the plane activity here.

I thought they were working on the house behind Geri’s but they’re actually replacing Geri’s eaves. They just started on the other side and now they’re on the side closest to us. I can tell this is something that’s going to take weeks or at least several days.

Tom said that when he came back with the groceries after 10 a.m. there were half a dozen cars down the street just past Bob and Virginia so I guess there was something going on down there as well.

The house in back has sold so now it’s only a matter of time before I find out how loud their vehicle is. Hopefully, they won’t be parking by the bedrooms as they’re getting moved in and having their little housewarming party and all that shit.

So far, it’s been a peaceful evening. Can’t hear much of the freeway tonight which is only about 600 feet away. Not too many car stereos either, or planes. Wait. I take that last part back. I can hear some planes now.

I got an email from Maliheh even though it wasn’t really from her from some other country. It ended with ‘br’ and I’m guessing that’s Brazil. There was some link that I wouldn’t click on, of course, knowing it was either some type of spyware or a link to spam. I don’t understand how this particular scam works. I know one of her email accounts was hacked but this doesn’t appear to be from that account. Why not just make up a bogus name? Why use a real person’s name? I would have thought she would have recovered control of her email that was hacked by now but maybe not. Like I said, I don’t understand how this scam works. Lying bitch or not, I don’t think she did anything wrong. I think she really was/is a victim.

I went out running earlier with Tom and I ran both fast and long because I was pissed. Pissed at all the noise and pissed that the research Tom did on flares and thyroidectomies didn’t exactly tell me anything I wanted to hear. I’m really worried that I’m going to suffer on and off from anxiety for the rest of my life even though Tom says he doesn’t think so and still thinks that the perimenopause is the root cause from everything he’s read.

Supposedly, if I got my thyroid removed, it may not be able to spit out bursts of T3 anymore but I would still have Hashimoto’s and so I may not necessarily feel better. Also, there’s a whole long list of things that can actually cause autoimmune flare-ups like cold weather and various forms of inflammation. That’s why they recommend Ibuprofen when you have a flare but it’s not something you want to take every day, of course, because it can cause bleeding in the stomach. If I weren’t in good shape and then I suddenly did something strenuous that left me sore, that could cause a flareup right there. But because I’m active and use my muscles regularly, I lower the risk of inflammation, even though there are other things that can cause flares.

I feel like such a hypocrite tonight. I have been bitching about seeing nothing but an endless stream of negativity online pertaining to the same old subjects, yet all I want to do right now is bitch, moan, rant, complain, cry and basically beat my head in the fucking wall, knowing that if there is a God up there this is all the more reason to hate its fucking guts for allowing me to suffer like this year after year when I’ve already had more than enough shit in life to have to deal with.

I’m just so fucking frustrated right now because I don’t see any real change in the near future, if ever. It would be bad, of course, to stop my thyroid medication altogether as that would only make things worse in many ways and the autoimmune disease may attack other organs and might even kill me, even if I didn’t have as much anxiety that way. But a few skips here and there definitely does help reduce some of the anxiety. My PCP knows I do this at times but I still want to discuss different options with her as far as handling flares when I see her in June.

Quitting smoking while I was young helps too, but I just feel like there’s a potential threat in everything. I can’t enjoy an occasional sugary treat without there being a risk of that triggering anxiety and the whole thing just really sucks shit. They now recognize asthma as an autoimmune disease even though mine’s been dormant most of the time since quitting smoking. But technically I have two AI diseases with a whole shitload of things that can make them worse and I might not even know what some of them are or realize that I could be doing something not very beneficial to myself. It’s a no-brainer that too much incense can make my lungs tight, but almost anything I do or eat could trigger flare-ups.

One of the many things he read that can cause flareups is hormonal imbalances so I’m still slightly hopeful that once I’m postmenopausal, the anxiety will lessen if it doesn’t go away altogether, but only slightly. After four years of this shit, it’s hard to hold out much hope of this ever going away. Like I said in a recent entry, I think this is the new me now and how I’m going to be for the rest of my life just like I one day got fat and I’m always going to be fat as well as farsighted and other things. Things change with age and they don’t always go back to what they used to be. Another thing that makes me doubtful that I’ll ever get better is that I actually feel like I’m through the worst of the peri because other symptoms have backed off. If my heart quit racing me awake, and other sleep disturbances (except for rude assholes on motorcycles) have eased up as well as the hot flashes, then why wouldn’t the anxiety have eased up by now as well?

UPDATE: Feeling better after a cup of Sleepytime tea. Valerian root really is a good thing. Something hit me after my last entry. You know how I said that most of my perimenopause symptoms have backed off except for the anxiety? Well, it hit me that I read that someone said that Amberen helped with all her symptoms except for anxiety. Maybe the same applies to me since I’ve been taking Amberen since last summer and everything but that has improved. In response to them saying this (on a doctor’s blog that wrote a book about menopause and such), the doctor recommended magnesium supplements to help combat the anxiety. Hmm…

FRIDAY, MARCH 9, 2018 Great news. I’m now 99% sure I know what’s been causing my anxiety on and off these last four years. Is it my medication? Perimenopause? Yes, but no. The question is whether or not I can get someone to actually help me with it and that would be getting me a thyroidectomy, but first, let me get other things out of the way before I get into that.

Sure enough, I was woken up four or five times today but I’m not tired, strangely enough. According to the weather forecast, the motorcycles are going to be waking me up like crazy this weekend. :-(

I’ve woken up to sawing and hammering for three days now. First, they’re doing a project behind Geri and now Geri is getting a new hatch to her crawl space. I’m sure it will take weeks too. But as much as I bitch about it, I realize it might have been worse. I would have had to deal with it longer had I gotten up earlier. But then I would just escape to the bedroom. I’m thinking of making that my permanent office because I’m tired of noise running me out of the living room. I would hear less of the freeway in the bedroom, including the fucking car stereos that can be heard mostly from 6 p.m. to 2 a.m. in warmer weather.

Right after I removed Campus Games because it didn’t seem to shake Maliheh’s negative review (unless I just didn’t give it enough time to reflect the changes), someone bought a copy of Evil. Hopefully, not Maliheh or a friend of hers to show they can leave a negative review on something they actually buy. Not unless she has a friend in the UK anyway because that’s where the sale came from. Either way, if I’m going to keep making sales, then I guess I may as well leave my books up, even if I never make much money from it.

Last night I dreamed I was gazing out at either a large lake or an ocean I seemed to live by. The water was bedecked with many sailboats.

Then I dreamed I was in a bathroom in a place that might have been very close to if not right on the beach. For some reason, I didn’t close the bathroom door and Tom entered the room in which the bathroom was off of. I told him I was peeing and he said, “Oh, I’m not even looking,” and went about doing something in what might’ve been a kitchen.

Okay, on with the flareups that I’m virtually certain are what’s been causing me to have intermittent anxiety ever since I began this damn thyroid medication. It’s known as an autoimmune flareup. The more research I did last night, the more it explains a lot of things. I always forget that it wasn’t the medication itself because it’s simply the same stuff our bodies make anyway, but I knew it was awfully extreme for perimenopause. Not saying the peri isn’t to blame at all. I’m just saying I know my body and what’s normal for me and it’s been obvious to me that there has been something going on that hasn’t been properly addressed and dealt with. But as I read on, things started making more sense. For example, just the way skipping doses can help. If the problem was mostly on the peri, cutting the medication back wouldn’t give me such noticeable relief. I tell you, the symptoms are too severe to be simply a case of “bad” or “rough” perimenopause which would just keep getting worse and worse like when I didn’t cut back the first couple of years hoping I would simply “get used to it.” The severe arrhythmia and palpitations, fear and anxiety I never had before in my life, severe constipation, losing 10 pounds in a week… perimenopause alone doesn’t do this. The more I would let the flareups go on without cutting back, the longer it would take to get relief after finally cutting back. When I was at my worst the last time which was in the fall of 2015, it took me three months to recover.

Flareups involve a sudden burst of T3 which can cause you to have symptoms of thyrotoxicity without the numbers showing up on your tests. This is why I never appear to be overmedicated when they test my TSH and T4. From what I read, the burst of T3 doesn’t last long enough to show up in the types of tests that they typically do on thyroid patients. But still, when the article I read described the symptoms, I had them all. A racing heart, feeling flushed in a way that isn’t quite the same as when you have a hot flash, feeling jittery, feeling like you have “too much energy.” It was me. It was all me.

Lowering my dose would prevent the flareups from making me so anxious but it would also lower the amount of thyroid in my system more than it should. Well, I don’t want to be low on thyroid but I don’t want to suffer from this bullshit cycle anymore either. I really think my best option would be a thyroidectomy and eliminating the root cause of the problem is what should be done for me. The problem is that so many doctors want to take the easy way out and do what’s easiest for them instead of what’s best for the patient. If I can’t get A to help me, I might have to drop her until I can find someone who will, even if we have to pay for it ourselves. A thyroidectomy usually costs 5 to 7 grand. I’ve definitely had more than enough of this shit but if worse comes to absolute worse and no one wants to address and deal with the real culprit or even lower my dosage, I will skip doses when I have a flareup like I’m doing right now. Sometimes an occasional skip isn’t enough and I have to skip two or three days in a row.

I’ve read good things about thyroidectomies and never heard anyone say they regretted having it done. I think even Tammy knows someone who had it done and felt much better afterward, but again, because it’s not life-threatening, even though you sure feel like you’re going to die if it gets bad enough, I don’t know if I can get anyone to help me.

Dr. O actually told me what it was and she was the only one that brought up the flares. Not sure they ever go away, though, like perimenopause eventually goes away but I haven’t yet found anything that suggests they have any kind of set lifespan. As much as my Dr. O was a stern bitch at times that reminded me a little too much of my mother, she was a genius. Most knowledgeable and helpful doctor I ever had and I almost wish she was my PCP as well. I don’t understand why A hasn’t taken my complaints of anxiety more seriously and looked into other causes other than just perimenopause. I get that she hasn’t known me all my life and that she doesn’t live in my mind and body to know what’s normal for me and what’s not, but still. So many doctors want to take the easy way out and mask the problem rather than get rid of it altogether. I’m tired of this roller coaster and I don’t want to try to manage or mask it with things like Lorazepam and other things that could have side effects when I can simply remove the problem altogether. I know it would mean having to double my dose because I would be going from a 50% output to a 0% output, but this way I might actually be able to take the medication more consistently if I don’t have the damn flareups making me so miserable. Even the psychiatrist herself said you can sometimes still feel anxious even with psych drugs and these drugs can stop working after a while, too. So let’s prevent it from happening in the first place by going directly to the source and getting rid of the problem!

I ran and downed a couple of ibuprofen after reading an article about that helping with flares since it’s a form of inflammation, and psychological or not, it did seem to take some of the edge off the anxiety. I feel better today because I didn’t take my meds today and I’m not taking them tomorrow either so as to lower the amount of medication in my bloodstream while I’m flaring. I’ll take it on Sunday, though.

THURSDAY, MARCH 8, 2018 I unpublished and then republished Campus Games. We’ll see if that shakes what I’m fairly certain is Maliheh’s comment for teasing her about using her name. LOL, it was still worth it. Maybe I can tease her about making her Socio, then she can leave a negative review on another book and I’ll do the same thing.

Maliheh never responds to the occasional email I send reminding her of my existence but I have no reason to think she doesn’t at least read them, hoping I’ll be dumb enough to say something she can hang my ass with.

Actually, it doesn’t look like it got rid of the review. Maybe because I didn’t change anything after unpublishing it. Either way, I’m torn between leaving what’s there, deleting some books, and deleting all of them. I just don’t see the point of turning something that’s fun into all this work if the profit isn’t going to be big enough to make it worth the effort. For the most part, there’s only money in writing if you’re famous or infamous and I definitely don’t want to be either one of those. It’s been a fun and interesting journey but I think for the most part, if not for the whole part, it should be what it’s always been meant to be… just a fun hobby.

I also admit I’m a touch embarrassed at the thought of some people I know reading them like Kathleen, just like I came to feel that way about my journals and became pickier about who I share them with. Between the explicit scenes and some of my older stories and the fact that I’m not the greatest storyteller, I’m a little self-conscious when it comes to the idea of certain people reading them. I should never have told just anyone that I’m an author, just like I should never have told anyone I know that I keep a journal online.

Unless people really can buy my books without me knowing it, Kathleen hasn’t bought anything, and since she hasn’t thus far, she likely never will. I think she’s more conservative than I ever realized she could be, no matter how much I may be “in her heart.”

The noise continues to be obnoxious most of the time. Loud vehicles, projects, landscaping, freeway traffic, car stereos (usually from outside the park) and plenty of plane activity. Even the nights aren’t always quiet. It’s after dark now and while I don’t usually mind the whoosh of freeway traffic, I hear the annoying buzz of planes and the occasional thumping of bass. Tonight I even get to listen to a catfight. I thought it was a couple of little kids screaming at first.

Anyway, despite the technology we have today to make things quieter, this is life in most places. Nothing I can do about it. Hell, most vehicles weren’t even this loud 50 years ago, and in some ways, this place is noisier than Phoenix was and that place was rocking. There I didn’t hear freeway traffic and car stereos throughout the night, oodles of projects or daily landscaping. Sometimes I even hear construction on the freeway being conducted in the middle of the night. I don’t think I even heard trains at night in Phoenix. I hate to think of what the world will sound like in another decade or two! I would think that by then people would have had enough and would do something about it but that’s what I thought years ago regarding car stereos. I think most people either don’t mind or don’t notice noise. The only thing I’m able to tune out at times is the whooshing of the freeway traffic because it’s a fairly consistent sound. Like I said to Tom, though, no sense in even trying to get a quieter place at this point whenever and wherever we move to. We should just focus on price and climate. Noise will be a part of my regular life for the rest of my life just like anxiety, obesity and shitty vision will be.

I was reading back on some old journal entries where Molly and her mother stalked and harassed the shit out of me online for years, following me from one site to another. You would think by now I would just laugh at some of those old memories and their immature silliness, but I actually felt a surge of anger. They’re lucky I didn’t go after them. It’s only that we were flat broke at the time that saved them from me. However, spells have long since been cast as I’ve done both consciously and not with those that have crossed me over the last couple of decades and irreversible consequences have befallen them because of it. I regret some of this and these days I definitely do prefer to simply ignore those I dislike, but sometimes we can’t call off what negative energy we may put out there.

I do take some of the responsibility, however, for using sites that didn’t have a block feature and that basically provided pathways of opportunities for them. I guess I felt that by dumping those sites altogether, I would be letting them control me and therefore they would win. I think I also wanted to provide them with a chance to really incriminate themselves at times. But these days I wouldn’t give a shit if you wrote that I was a mass murderer using my full name or even if you directly threatened me because words are just words and I’m not one to run to the cops, not that I trust them much, over stuff people say or write. Also, most sites have block features nowadays and the few that don’t, well, no site is so valuable to me that I would have to put up with anyone’s shit in order to keep using it. Unless someone were to physically force their presence on me by kicking my door down, all trolls are easy enough to avoid on almost any site, including email and phone services. So…as quickly as you unzip your mouth, I can zip it right back up for you in a heartbeat. :-)

I had a nightmare in which I’m certain something bad happened to me but I don’t remember what. It was bad enough to wake me up and it’s too bad I don’t remember so I can have a sense of what shit I might be in for that would almost certainly be some physical problem.

I do remember a dream where Bob and Virginia were supposedly in jail for many years but “jail” looked just like their house does. I don’t know what they got in trouble for but they were allowed to take their house to jail, haha.

Then there was some dream about the three of us running our hands over some bundles of yarn and marveling at how soft they were.

For now, I should quit being lazy and try to coax myself into working out because chances are I’m going to be too tired to work out tomorrow after having my sleep disturbed numerous times. I wish they would come early at 8 o’clock like they did a couple of weeks ago but I’m sure that was a fluke.

WEDNESDAY, MARCH 7, 2018 I love my cousin Norma. She’s a very sweet lady and all that but damn does she drive me crazy with all the negativity! All her posts are negative and the more I get to know her, the more I’m surprised at just how judgemental she truly is. She’s just as judgemental as I can be but in a different way. She has this bleeding heart for blacks and Muslims that most “politically correct” people have these days and it just gets old. I get tired of these troublemaking groups getting so much praise and pity that most of them simply don’t deserve. I almost felt a little offended when I confided in her how I was legally discriminated against by blacks (oh, it wasn’t just in retaliation for the city complaint), and she couldn’t seem to accept that yes, whites really do sometimes get discriminated against by blacks. The media just doesn’t focus on those cases nearly as much as when it’s the other way around. I kind of get that if you haven’t experienced something firsthand it may be harder to fathom, but that doesn’t mean that these things don’t happen or that I wasn’t just as much of a victim as some of them are even though the media won’t tell you that and you might not get how that’s possible in a world that believes blacks can do no wrong… Ever.

I “snoozed” Norma for 30 days. Again, I love the woman but the constant negativity, regardless of the subject matter, has a way of bringing just about anyone down. She’s got to be pretty miserable herself. How can she not be? I realize she lost her husband which doesn’t exactly put one in a great frame of mind but she was like this before Milt died. As I learned a long time ago, the more we focus on negative things or things we can’t change, the more depressed, angry and frustrated we feel. She’s in her late 80s. I would want to spend whatever time I had left surrounding myself with goodness and positivity. But it’s her life and she has to live it as she sees fit. Meanwhile, I don’t have to hear it every day. :-) That’s what the ‘unfollow’ and ‘snooze’ buttons are for. I get that it’s human nature and that we all get a little repetitious at times, but I would still rather avoid regular negativity as much as possible.

I’m only sharing this with Tammy because I trust that she’ll keep it between us. No need to hurt anyone’s feelings when it’s easy enough to ignore people, just like some people may want to ignore me and all my rats. :-)

Aly DM’d me to say that Jase thinks she should get the transplant done but is worried she would be in the hospital for three weeks.

But if it’s going to help her in the long run, it may be a good idea. I’m not an expert and I don’t know all the details but she said that transfusions are time-consuming as well. Maybe the transplants will lessen her likelihood of having to have transfusions and other medications with nasty side effects as well.

Anyway, I’m still looking forward to meeting the highly creative, intelligent and androgynous “Agent P” come September!

TUESDAY, MARCH 6, 2018 We’ve all gotten scams from phishers pretending to be from companies we’re familiar with like banks, major websites, and other things like that saying we need to log in to “verify” and update our information, but I was surprised to get what I’m pretty sure is a scam in the guise of my medical group. I was smart enough not to click the link and give out any information. Besides, this thing actually wanted me to create a new account and the link wasn’t the same as for their site. The only thing that was different about this scam was that there weren’t the usual misspellings and poor punctuation and grammar that you usually find with most scams. I’m not going to do anything about it, though. All my info is up-to-date and if it’s really them and they really want to verify my info, they can call me.

The question is why anybody would want medical info if it is a scam? That’s all that would be there. Not any credit card info but just health info. I also wonder how they knew this was my medical group. Did they just send the same thing to tons of people or is it aimed at me personally? I don’t think it’s just me but if anyone out there is that curious, I’m relatively healthy. I have Hashimoto’s, a little anxiety from perimenopause that’s getting closer to menopause, and sometimes my BP is a little high. Same with my white blood cells and cholesterol. Oh, and I’m a little heavy too, but not much right now. I’m pretty fit for one in her 50s and I rarely get colds and almost never get the flu. I’ve only puked once this millennium and had just one infection this millennium (dental). Happy now? :-)

Nothing from Amazon today. Gee, what a surprise. I’ll have to decide whether or not to temporarily unpublish the book which will delete the negative review or just leave it there since no one likes everything and it doesn’t seem to be affecting sales. No one in the arts and entertainment can please everyone so yeah, it can stay.

Something from FedEx came today although it wasn’t for us. When we Googled the address it showed our house but Google doesn’t always get it right. I took the package next door and asked if they knew who the person could be and they had no idea. Being an even number we knew it was the inner circle. Virginia asked if it was flowers or Sees Candy, saying it would be worth keeping in that case. LOL, nope. Just a car part.

Their place looked beautiful and immaculate as always, and Bob had a rifle by the door. I don’t know much about guns so it could’ve been a pellet gun or a shotgun (but then aren’t those the same thing?) Or something else. I can only say that it was long and definitely not a handgun. Or an assault rifle for that matter. Hmm… Does he have it for protection or is he a hunter? This is one of the unlikeliest places you would need to protect yourself from a home invasion and it seems too big for protection, so I’m guessing the latter.

Tom contacted FedEx who said they would pick the package up but they haven’t yet. If it’s still here late tomorrow then I’ll do their damn job for them and give it to the proper house. It’s just beyond Geri.

Wanting to see exactly whose house is up for sale down the street, we decided to walk around the circle. It is Ray’s. Yay, if he’s the one with the loud mutt that’s been annoying for years every time it’s walked. Never cared for the guy either.

Oh, the rules people love to break here. Someone further down the street has three dogs when you’re only supposed to have two here. They’re very tiny and I don’t think they’ve ever been annoying, so people can break all the rules they want as long as it doesn’t affect me. Maybe someone was visiting with one of them though I doubt it.

Again my dreams were too vague to really know what to make of them. A quick flash of me looking at a picture of feet on pointe with bright pink ballet slippers that were hanging on Tammy’s wall. Me touching an exterior wall in some living room and noticing it was warm because it was hot out.

I feel a bit wound up tonight. My heart was racing earlier, though I’m not actually being “stabbed” in the chest with anxiety. I thought part of it may have been because I was running around, lifting heavy stuff, and then it got a little warm in here as well. Or maybe it’s still the peri. The fact that my heart hasn’t raced me awake for a while and the fact that I’m sleeping better (along with how long it’s been) tells me I’m getting close to menopause. But then why do I still have some anxiety? That can’t be a good sign. I still worry that my meds are part of the problem.

Aly, who had a bone marrow biopsy a couple of years ago which she says is very painful, is hoping to avoid having to have another one. Where my white blood cell count numbers range from 11-13, hers range from 19-21. I know she’s had transfusions as well as some medication called cyclosporine. She says a bone marrow transplant is the absolute last resort as it probably wouldn’t be covered. I just hope to hell that whatever the bad things are in her blood they don’t turn into leukemia. Unfortunately, I think I read that it usually does. If that’s the case then hopefully that’s many, many years away. The hematologist I saw said that it’s something that starts up slowly then quickly escalates. But I’m 14 years older and my numbers are lower. Mine aren’t likely to get any higher. My dreams haven’t hinted at anything worth worrying about either.

MONDAY, MARCH 5, 2018 Nothing like sipping a cup of Butterscotch Blondie tea while dealing with a bunch of incompetent idiots at Amazon Publishing. Yeah, the perfect way to spend the day. eye roll They replied to the message I sent asking how someone could leave a review, negative or not, on an item that didn’t yet seem to be purchased or borrowed and what do I get? A reply saying they’re forwarding my information about having the review taken down.

I didn’t ask for it to be taken down. I asked why people can review things they didn’t buy. This isn’t the first time I’ve gotten nowhere with them and left feeling frustrated. Funny too, because the whole idea of self-publishing through them was so that I wouldn’t have to deal with headaches like this. I didn’t want the pressures of contracts or someone else to do my editing for me and pick out my book covers. I wanted to go at my own pace and have more say in things without the deadlines and other bullshit. But apparently, you can’t get straight, helpful, sensible answers this way.

I finished watching the latest season of Bates Motel. It was fantastic. I try to imagine a real-life person with MPD and I just can’t do it. I don’t see how it’s possible to suddenly believe you’re all these different people while “yourself” isn’t even aware of it. To me, it seems like little more than just one big act either for fun, sympathy, or to try to get out of a bad situation like some people do that conveniently claim amnesia when questioned by the police. Amnesia is an easy scapegoat and I can see where MPD would be as well. Like blaming something on an evil twin, it just seems like a bunch of hogwash. Like I could have been someone else - anyone else - a half hour ago and not know it. Yeah, right! Really, the shrinks who fall for this shit and suggest it as a possibility are just as bad as the patients putting on these acts for whatever reason they’re putting them on for.

Now that I’m caught up on Bates Motel, I’m watching the 18th year of Law & Order SVU. The cast is getting up there in years but still looking good.

Last night I had another dream that again made me question the possibility of parallel lives, but unfortunately, I can’t remember it.

I know we sometimes have reflection dreams that are influenced by life events reflected in our dreams. Like if we worry about money, we’re likely to dream about money. But why have I had so many dream premonitions? I wonder what that’s all about and what causes these things to happen. And why are some of us more prone to them than others?

Aly and I decided to tell Kim about Curious Cat and she joined earlier. Maybe she’ll liven it up a bit even though we know she’ll ask the same old questions that she already knows the answers to. But will she send the same nasty questions she did on Ask? My guess is no. Not at this point.

I don’t know if Aly is a hypochondriac or just cursed in the health department. I’m guessing maybe both, but either way, she’s hoping not to have to have a bone marrow biopsy. It’s both painful and not likely to be covered by her insurance. Again, I can’t believe this world we live in. If you get in trouble, you get a free lawyer (a joke of one or not) but if you can’t afford life-saving medical treatment, you die. Makes me wonder… What if I’d gotten cancer when we were uninsured? Would I be dead now?

SUNDAY, MARCH 4, 2018 Got some air freshener, a round decorative rock with gold paint and sequins, and a pink gemstone-tipped pen at the dollar store. I could use the rock for hot plates and pots as well as for decoration.

We stopped at McDonald’s before the dollar store where he got a burger and I got chicken nuggets. It was good even though it was a bit of a wait.

When we came home we hemmed my new purple sweatpants with fabric glue, and other than some sawing and engine gunning, it’s been a pretty quiet day. Still a lot of loud vehicles, though. I still don’t get why there are so many. It’s so unnecessary with today’s technology yet Tom said they passed some ordinances against vehicles that are too quiet in some places for pedestrians’ safety. rolls eyes If you’re dumb enough to cross the street without looking first then you’re kind of asking to be hit.

Remember how I said several entries ago that a few people attempted to leave good reviews on my books and they wouldn’t go through? Well, apparently I’m only allowed visible reviews as long as they’re only one star. Yeah, “Written in a very elementary manner,” someone going by M wrote on Campus Games. Funny too, because when I read the half a dozen other reviews they’ve left, most of which are also one star, they weren’t exactly a very good writer themselves given their lack of punctuation and caps.

Kind of wonder if it’s Maliheh or someone connected to her. She wasn’t a reader but that’s the thing; you don’t have to actually purchase the item in order to review it.

Either way, I get that everyone gets negative reviews at times and I’m okay with that because I don’t think negative feedback is going to affect my sales one way or the other any more than positive feedback because I’m not famous…or infamous.

I replied with: I’m sorry you didn’t like the book. No one’s ever said (at least to me) that I write in an elementary manner, and I’m pretty sure Amazon wouldn’t publish me if they felt that I did, but I understand that one style doesn’t fit all and that I’m not everyone’s cup of tea. Still, I thank you very much for giving it a try!

I got to thinking about the negative book review and then it hit me… How does someone leave a review on a book that hasn’t had any purchases or borrows yet, according to my book reports? Campus Games is a newly released book. Maybe if it’s lent to someone the buyer knows it can escape my reports or something like that? I don’t know, but out of curiosity, I sent a message to Amazon asking if it’s possible that not every borrow or lend shows up on my report.

I’m really starting to suspect it could be Maliheh. They go by just “M,” they have no profile picture, and the few things that have been reviewed by them do seem like things she may get. The poor writing style fits in with her as well. The first review goes back to last August.

But if it’s her, why that book and not the one she inspired? Maybe the idea was to “punish” me with negative feedback for the email I sent her teasing her about using her real name in Evil, and to throw me off her scent by leaving the review on a different book. It’s not important either way but being the naturally curious person that I am, I can’t help but wonder if it’s someone I know. The biggest mystery is how the hell they reviewed something that’s not showing up on my reports. I wish Amazon wouldn’t allow anything to be reviewed without a verified purchase.

Anyway, if this was an honest-to-god review and not just someone messing with me, I will admit that I first wrote this particular story in 2004 when I wasn’t as experienced as a writer as I am now. But I thought I did some pretty serious editing on it before submitting it.

Anyway, it’s been absolutely freezing. I feel like I’ve been freezing my ass off for many months. I wish it would hurry the fuck up and warm up already! It is going to be warm enough for motorcycles next weekend which sucks because I’m going to be sleeping in at that time as I flip my schedule for my appointments. Chances are I’m going to be woken up that day and probably Friday too when the trash and green waste trucks make their way in. I swear I’m never again going to have a bedroom so close to a busy street or any street for that matter! As I was telling Tammy, forget trying to find quiet. Quiet just wasn’t meant to be for me. But I can definitely do better than this and no possible friendship with Kathleen is worth sticking around for. I don’t even know what “let’s keep in touch” means. Does it mean “let’s get together once or twice a month” or “send me a Christmas card every year to let me know how the year was for you?” Tom thinks it’s the latter. It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m fine with whatever she wants. I’m just tired of being cold so much of the time!

But not as tired as I am of the anxiety. I started to feel it well up in my chest earlier, but a cup of Sleepytime seemed to help it. Tom thinks it’s simply because it’s Sunday night and I wish he were right, but if it’s anxiety over anything that’s going on, then why didn’t I have this feeling when we were struggling financially? I know it’s tied in with either the medication or the perimenopause, I just don’t know which one is most responsible for this shitty feeling. Maybe all those articles really have a point too, when they talk about how fast food and sugary treats induce anxiety. I’ve had two candy bars these last two days, plus I went to McDonald’s.

Now I’m going through the dilemma of whether or not I should skip tomorrow or just see if I can tough it out and see how bad it ends up getting. If I could just tough it out, I could lose an easy 5 to 10 lb. But there is no reasoning with myself once it gets to the point where my heart is racing and I’m terrified. Once it goes from a shitty feeling to a scary one, I’m pretty much fucked and it’s no way to live. I’d rather gain weight than go through that. So I guess I might skip tomorrow or at least cut my waiting time in half.

Another dilemma I’ll be facing in June is whether or not to tell A that I’m going to skip weekly to prevent this from happening in the first place or ask that she lower my dose.

If I can make it to the end of the month without a period then that will mean I’ve had just one in 9 months. Really wish I could get to November without any periods because then I’ll know for sure if it’s the meds or not making me anxious. It will be interesting to see what my estrogen levels are when I’m tested in June. I keep going back and forth in my mind between the causes. Both the meds and the peri make sense but they also don’t.

While I’m on the subject of life’s little mysteries, how about peeling back in time to 1996? Pretty sure they said in court it was something like 1996 or 7 that I sent the freeloaders the threatening letter but that they didn’t have enough evidence to go after me then. Then how does sending journal excerpts suddenly turn an incident that’s lacking in evidence into an incident that has sufficient evidence???

I’ve been feeling more and more alienated by Tammy even though I know I shouldn’t. For all I know she doesn’t contact many others any more than she does me, and with us not having much in common and her not being the greatest writer and therefore easy to understand, it’s probably better this way. But how much does she really want me around? As in near where she lives? Maybe the fact that she doesn’t pester me online shows that she wouldn’t do that in person either. It’s just that she can’t get from me online what she could get from me in person. She had me babysit for her, for example, those few months I lived in Connecticut. Had the Internet existed then, she couldn’t have used me to babysit online. The only way to know what she’s going to do is to live close to her if we do.

When Alexa told me that Ocala was 40° last night, that pretty much got that place off the table of possibilities. That’s almost as cold as it is here. It was 55° in Cape Canaveral and 59° where Tammy lives as well as in Fort Lauderdale. Now that’s more like it! It really would be best to get as close to the coast as we can afford and not go too far north.

I was quick to say we probably couldn’t afford the high-rise apartments on the beach my parents lived near while we were looking for a place and deciding exactly what town/city to settle in, but maybe we could if it included utilities.

I also wonder… Is Tammy’s place really that much quieter than this place or does she just not notice noise as easily as I do? I’m very hyper-aware of sounds. I didn’t hear anything the times I was visiting but I was only there for a tiny fraction of the time she is. Maybe we just have different definitions of what’s noisy and what’s not because she said there were some trucks that use diesel but because they’re going so slow they’re not that loud. Well, they sure are loud enough here even when they’re sitting there idling. I realize that everybody has their own tolerance levels when it comes to noise. Obviously, most people don’t mind loud car stereos otherwise they wouldn’t still exist after all these years. But when I hear them booming down the freeway, I most certainly do notice them, deaf in one ear or not, and I definitely consider it noisy. Most people might have considered all the frogs in Auburn ribbiting up a storm after a rainstorm to be a noise nuisance, and while they were definitely just as loud as Jesse’s mutts, they didn’t bother me in the least.

SATURDAY, MARCH 3, 2018 Got some new flavored teas I’m looking forward to trying like chocolate, butterscotch, and Vermont maple ginger.

Right now I’m waiting till my vegan spinach pizza is ready and totally agree with Tom that it will be nice to have Amazon deliver groceries once that becomes available in Citrus Heights. Walmart is constantly going out of stock and there are always issues with their system. You would think they would be able to afford to be more functional and consistent but I guess they just don’t care to be. For now, we may check into Raley’s home delivery service even though Raley’s is more expensive.

Again I mulled over in my mind all the pros and cons of moving while he still working versus waiting until he’s retired. The smart thing to do would definitely be to wait until he’s retired, but like most people, we don’t always do what’s smart.

I have two dilemmas I’m facing. To do smart or stupid, and to do close to Tammy versus not so close. This may be a horrible thing to say, but a part of me wishes she would die now so she would not only stop suffering but also so that I wouldn’t have such a hard decision to make.

Haven’t heard much from Tammy since she last picked up my messages about a week ago. She usually only picks them up once a week. I still wonder if she gets them all to begin with because I asked her about her test before the last time she picked up my messages and still haven’t gotten a response. Oh well. She will update me when she’s ready. The dreams I had a while back about her really don’t surprise me much. People don’t just suddenly up and lose their appetite for shits and giggles. I’m guessing it’s a side effect of some medication she’s on, and she’s practically on a whole pharmacy’s worth. Plus there was that dream even further back where she was really frail. I know I told her about it, too. At 60, she’ll likely live for another 20-25 years, so hopefully they’ve been able to find something to lessen her pain so she can be more active. The weight loss should help with that.

That loud car has been coming around more after not being around for weeks. I hope it isn’t thinking of returning anytime soon.

Alexa lost her mind yesterday and wouldn’t listen when I commanded her to turn the lights on in certain rooms and then I found her trending on Facebook, so I knew they were having issues. They fixed it soon enough, but in the meantime, Tom said he was considering turning lights on and off from his phone when he was at work as a prank on me. LOL, I thought only I considered pranks like that.

Texted with my bestie yesterday and noticed it didn’t even feel like there had been a nearly two-year gap in our friendship. We carried on as usual and it was nice. I definitely missed her and would look at my phone with a sense of loneliness during that gap.

Was running journals through Grammarly when I came across the time I surprised Kim from jail with a letter. Remembering that she was released in January of 2017, I ran her name out of curiosity, and sure enough, she went back in last fall for another 3-year stint and won’t be out until 2021, 2022 at the latest. Same shit… narcotics. She’s lost weight and looks horrible as do most druggies.

Now, this is someone who genuinely wants to be in prison. This is her third time in that I know of and she’s now 40 years old. She’s got to have spent around half of her adult years locked up. It’s sad but true that many people prefer the prison life where they don’t have to worry about bills and where everything is done for them despite their loss of freedom and options. She probably found it very hard to make her own decisions when she was last out being so used to having them made for her and struggling to survive on her own. After all, as a career criminal, you can’t exactly get a decent job anywhere. I feel bad for the two kids she said she had (probably has more by now) because she basically chose crime over them.

Last night I dreamed that it was late at night and Maliheh was driving me home. Andy was with us. We were all sitting in the front seat with her at the wheel and Andy between us. I had an apartment somewhere and when I got to my building, I had to punch in a four-digit code in order to activate the elevator that would bring me to my apartment. But once I got to the keypad I realized I’d forgotten the code. I was pissed because it was too late for the office to be open that was on the ground floor.

Strangely enough, when I woke up in real life, Tom was asking me what the four-digit code was for one of our tablets.

In the second dream, I also didn’t seem to know Tom but my parents were still alive. I was telling Andy over the phone that I won 33 million dollars and that the dream house I always wanted was going to happen. I just didn’t know where or when. I was to meet with my parents in some building that night to pick up the money which was to be in bundles of cash. At that time I planned to surprise each family member with a million bucks of their own.

Gia’s (I have the Gia head on this month) make-up remover arrived today and I am totally amazed by how well it works! Really thought the stain on her leg from the lipstick I put on her nails would be permanent. With Tom’s help, we removed most of it from her nails focusing mainly around the cuticle area, and then I applied gorgeous bright neon falsies. The ring fingers have colorful fractals swirl accents, and the rest are bright orange like those cones they put in the street when they’re going to do road construction or something. They really show up well, even in dim lighting. These look much better on her than the black matte nails with the silvery accents. Those are what I’m going to be wearing to my appointments in a few weeks.

Kim is still ranting about her bossy sister-in-law and spineless sister and what a pain in the ass it is to watch their new dog and her two-year-old niece. Her niece’s mother just had a baby boy, so the girl is staying with them for a few days and Kim’s not too happy about it. I don’t know if she just doesn’t like kids or if she’s jealous of the attention it takes away from her or what. I would think she would want the attention taken away from her, especially since the sister-in-law threatened to break her computer if she breaks any of the collectibles in the hutch. She went on quite a long angry rant in her journal and Aly sometimes gets sick of hearing the same shit from her and how she never contacts her just to say hi. Kim seems to be hounded for everything… Her noises, whatever those may be. Going up and down stairs on one leg, however possible that may be. Being clumsy. Lying. Not cleaning properly…

Aly has various health issues, mainly eczema-related, but is otherwise doing okay.

Kathleen is still a bit of a mystery to me. I still wonder what the catch is. Why am I suddenly “allowed” to have someone like her in my life? She’s either going to change her mind or we’re going to move when and if she really does mean it when she says she wants to keep in touch and that I’m “in her heart,” LOL. If she’s waiting until she’s officially retired so that there is no longer any business connection between us, then that may very well be close to when we’re moving. I always thought it an odd coincidence that anyone I really like seems to move if we don’t. Well, if there is anything up there controlling how close I get to any of these people, then she’s either going to pull away from me or not contact me for nonbusiness reasons until we’re gone or close to it. Since we’re probably going to choose stupid over smart, we could be out of here in 2019, the year she retires.

Tammy is also a mystery. She’s healthy enough to log in almost every day on Facebook and sometimes she sounds perfectly normal when we talk. I guess I have no reason to assume she can’t make it well into her 70s and maybe even her 80s. Unless a heart attack sneaks up on her anytime soon, which isn’t likely since they’re monitoring her closely, or she gets aggressive cancer that takes off quickly, I would think she still has many years ahead, painful or not.

Tom is also doing his best to cut his sugar intake back and he is once again back on the Bowflex.

Been sampling my new flavored teas today. I’d give the Vermont maple ginger about a 5 or 6. The chocolate is about a 7, and the butterscotch is a definite 9, almost 10.

We didn’t do too much today because it’s good for us to take a day off on weekends when we can. Tomorrow we need to go out and pick some things up that Walmart didn’t have, plus the rats need more treats. We’ll probably eat out along the way, too.

FRIDAY, MARCH 2, 2018 Be it for ethical or dietary reasons, when I think of vegans I think of them not eating meat, but then I realize it’s more than just that. They also don’t have cheese, milk or eggs. Anything from animals is forbidden. I think I’m too metabolically fucked for a vegan diet to cause me to lose weight but I’m definitely interested in giving it a try for a while for its overall health benefits. If it can improve my cholesterol and reduce anxiety when I have it, why not? I won’t do it forever because I couldn’t give up meat for the rest of my life any more than I could give up sugar for the rest of my life, but I’ll try most things once at least for a while. The only thing I won’t eliminate is my coffee creamer.

So I guess I will be making this my last non-vegan week and will continue to do research and get recipe ideas. The thing is that I hate to cook. However, vegan recipes may be a little less complicated and not as time-consuming. Chai pancakes? Hmm… Sounds interesting!

Except for yogurt, I’ve never been big on dairy, especially milk, because it makes my stomach gassy. I may have to take Beano in order to handle the beans and roughage better if I’m going to be having more of that kind of thing. Either way, I will be looking for plant-based ideas and thinking beans, seeds, nuts, fruits, veggies and tofu.

During yesterday’s wind-driven rain, I heard a loud crash but when I ran outside and checked around the house, I didn’t see anything. Nothing seemed to have fallen inside the house either.

Although still cloudy and cool, it cleared up enough today that I could walk down to the lake. A small tree got taken out in the storm down there because someone was cutting it up. They’re also trimming the palm tree in back by the house that’s for sale. There’s always something going on around here when it’s not storming, but the air cleaner that’s sitting on the desk helps to drown some of it out.

It could rain anytime until midnight and it’s supposed to be rainy tomorrow, too.

My incense and color-changing nail polish arrived. Not all that impressed with the polish but I got an awesome selection of incense and she threw in some extras just like she did last time. The only ones I don’t care for are Yucca and Sage. Their version of Opium and Wet Kisses are to die for. Witch Doctor, Strawberry Fields, Egyptian Musk and so many others are awesome. Someone asked what Obama smells like, and it’s got a very rich woodsy smell.

Last night I dreamed that Stacey bought me a bedroom furniture set. I don’t know why but it was supposedly a gift for doing her some kind of favor. There was a tall dresser, a long dresser, and then a nightstand that we chose to put in an office somewhere. I was looking for my camera to take pictures of the furniture setup that I wanted to show her on Facebook, but couldn’t seem to find my camera.

THURSDAY, MARCH 1, 2018 Woke up to lots of rain and wind today. I can hear the wind howling at times but this is just what our drought-stricken state desperately needs. I love how quiet things are because of it, too. Even the traffic is quiet.

I pushed my potted cactus into the rain for a while.

As much as we may need the rain and as much as I like the quiet it brings, I really do miss the heat and swimming and all that stuff. I miss running around barefoot in shorts and tank tops. I hate being confined to long sleeves, robes, slippers, and hoodies. The less I have to wear, the better.

The only dream I remember from last night was Tom waiting for me in a parked car out in a rural area. It looked like he was parked alongside a cornfield or a wheat field of some kind. I was walking through a narrow path between the tall grasses and heading to the paved road that the car was sitting on. As I stepped out of the clearing, I glanced to the right and saw a brown bear about 30 feet away. By some miracle, I managed not to freak out as I casually but quickly made my way to the car which was on my left about 20 feet away. I was able to get into the car without the bear giving chase. Once I shut the door I shouted for him to go, and he looked up from something he had been reading and asked why. I looked out the windshield and saw that the bear was gone.

[cursesavior]

Gaze drops to the pavement at her words - Suguru knew that she wasn't concerned about the curse, of course not, but he's always had an aversion to having others worry over him. Maybe it's because he's always been stronger than most, always been the one to support others and never had to be supported himself, but it just feels wrong. He's already burdened Chiaki enough as it is, seeing as she'll have to help him get back, he doesn't want his downward spiral to weigh on her mind and distract her. With the kind of thoughts he's been having lately, he's not sure he deserves the care she shows him in the first place. He winces slightly when she wraps an arm around his side - not from pain, he was used to gritting his teeth and bearing it, but there was no way that she wouldn't notice the weight loss now. As if avoiding questions wasn't going to be hard enough as it is, and he certainly doesn't want anyone trying to get him to eat more. He just... can't stomach it anymore. Can't stomach any of it.

"Mm," He makes a little noise of acknowledgement low in his throat at her insistence - no matter what, huh? He wonders if she really means that - if she could mean it, not knowing what's going on in his head. If he told her what he was thinking, about the hatred that felt like it was corroding his soul day by day, would she still stand by him? He doesn't think so, honestly - he's not sure anyone would. The only other person who had even remotely experienced the same thing as him was Satoru, and he seemed just fine... Were his feelings justified, or was he the problem? He doesn't know anymore. Regardless, he doubts she was going to stand by his growing hatred for humanity, by the murderous thoughts clouding his mind. So he keeps it all inside as he limps along with her assistance --

Or at least, that's what he thinks he's going to do. But then Chiaki's prying further, pointing out the all-too-obvious signs of his decline, and... Well, what can he do? It's not like he can say that she's wrong when this is the state that he's found himself in, practically falling apart at the seams - it's too late for that, she knows. And it seems like she's noticed for a while... Funny, how she picked up on it when Satoru seemed entirely blind to it. Not that he can entirely blame him, he did lie to him when he asked, but that doesn't stop it from leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. The feeling of her strings holding him up is a bit strange, but he's too preoccupied with his racing mind to mind all too much at the moment.

He opens his mouth, then closes it, then opens again - almost argues with her about her almost never smiling either, but that's always been the baseline for her, and he knows it's futile to try and misdirect the conversation at this point. He lets those fighting words go with a heavy sigh - he has to say something with some truth to it. "Nothing else... Happened, exactly, it's just... I had a change of perspective after Riko, I guess." That's the lightest possible way of putting it, but it's not a lie. "You know, when I woke up and found Satoru, he was standing there, holding her body - and everyone was clapping. Fucking applauding the murder of an innocent teenage girl who'd done nothing to them. He asked me if we should kill them all... And I said no. I was in shock, and... At the time, I still thought that was the right thing to do. That sorcerers shouldn't hurt defenseless m-- humans, no matter what. The strong need to protect the weak... And I didn't want to make him do something he'd regret."

He has to swallow down the urge to call them monkeys - because that's what they are, really - and just repeating his former ideology makes him nauseous, but now that he's started talking it's hard to stop. Word vomit. "... But I was wrong. Being a jujutsu sorcerer isn't noble or heroic - people like that don't deserve protecting. Every missions we risk our lives, fighting curses for the sake of civilians who would applaud at our deaths, and for what?" He scoffs, cold and bitter as venom starts to seep into his voice. "Just so that we can watch our peers - our friends - laid out on the morgue tables, one after the other? So that we can experience the worst this world has to offer over and over until we meet the same fate? It's not like the curses will ever stop coming. We're chipping away at nothing and the people we're supposedly protecting are..."

Scum. He cuts himself off before he can actually say it, but it's true - they're all scum. Filthy, disgusting, unrepentant animals. He can't bring himself to feel an ounce of sympathy towards them, not when he'd been faced with just how ugly humanity was. He can hardly bear to be in their presence at all anymore - he had to force his mind to shut down whenever he was on public transport to keep that simmering rage from boiling over. He can't stand it. Wouldn't it be better if they would all just... Disappear? He won't say it out loud, lips pursed tight in a frown to shut himself, but he hasn't stopped regretting the answer he gave Satoru that day. He should've let him kill them all - they would've deserved it. Better yet, he should've spared him the pain and regret and slaughtered them himself. They would be outcasts, sure, forced to defect, but... At least he could say he did the right thing. At least this wouldn't be eating away at him. It follows him everywhere - the sound of rain, of shower water hitting the tile floor sounds just like that deafening applause and knowing they're all still alive, living happy lives while good people like Haibara give up everything for a pointless cause... It makes him sick.

"It's hopeless. It's a marathon race where the only reward is a pile of corpses. It's-..." He takes another deep breath, shaky this time as furious tears sting at his eyes. Even now, in his weakened and lightheaded state he felt that urge to tear them all apart, fingers balling into fists as his cursed energy flares dangerously. "... I don't know, but... There's something terrible happening inside of me, some horrible truth unfolding, and... I can't stop it."

❝ WHETHER YOU EXORCISED IT OR NOT isn't what i'm worried about, geto. ❞ chiaki's response is instantaneous, her voice as unshakably level as ever. something about what he says — or perhaps the way he says it, so terribly resigned, as if he is stuck in a constant state of walking toward the gallows — sends a bolt of pain through her, and it is not the pain of a sympathetic friend. it is recognition. the deep, dread-invoking recognition, seeing a familiar name on the list of disaster casualties, the feeling you get when they open the morgue drawer and ask you, is this her? is this him? and you can't even cry because you feel so numb.

it isn't just summer stress, is it? she doesn't say, even as she blinks back a swell of saltwater and loops the arm on geto's good side around her shoulders. it would be just as easy to hoist him up with the threads of her cursed energy that swirl among his like oil and water, but being this close — and delicate, especially with the arm that wraps around his waist and rests above the wound — allows her to confirm a suspicion she's held for some time.

he's wasting away.

chiaki, of late, has been incredibly grateful for her lifelong sweet tooth. it's the only way she's been able to keep food down, the rush of dopamine from a hit of sugar allowing her body to keep running the gears of fueling itself even through the screaming haze in her mind. it certainly isn't the healthiest diet — god knows some part of her that has been choked out by the grief misses the energy she got from balanced meals — but when everything else tastes like ash and the motivation to eat feels like an uphill battle, at least it's something. still, he isn't the only one who looks worse for wear lately. chiaki just has the benefit of being able to hide it better.

❝ hey. don't apologize, ❞ she murmurs. ❝ you're my friend. of course i'm going to help you, no matter what. ❞ it's a loaded sentence; it means so many things all at once.

❝ what's happening to you, geto? ❞ the words slip out without her meaning to, without passing through her diplomacy filters she was formerly known for — which, in fairness, have all crumbled in the wake of her parents' deaths anyway. it feels so stupid to try to speak around people's feelings. what's the point? what's the point when even the best of them die anyway? her parents, haibara, who's next? nanami? shoko? chiaki herself?

she doesn't realize she's clutching him too tightly until her arm cramps from the tension; with a gasp, she loosens her grip on his bad side again, lets a cluster of threads attach to his shoulders to aid her in supporting his (concerningly light, even with her relative weakness) standing weight. ❝ don't try to wave it off this time. i'm — sorry if this sounds rude, but you're not okay. you're skin and bones, you haven't been eating, i haven't seen a real smile from you in months — ❞ bold, maybe, from the girl who famously smiles once in a blue moon. but that's different. ❝ it wasn't just amanai, was it? something else happened. ❞

[justapayneaway]

“... the blindness to compare this to a situation that previously (kind of) happened in this fandom is outrageous to me.” what do you mean with “the situation that previously happened”? Had there already been cheating rumors like this?

Why is everyone not kind of comparing this to what happened in 2015 to end Louis and Eleanor's relationship in the first time?! It's very very similar with the exception of 1D's team setting the story in motion in the media.

Let's compare these two situations shall we and then we'll all be able to see the similarities:

Louis (2015): Eleanor disappeared for a few weeks after being with them on tour in Australia and then one day the media releases pictures of Louis in a pool kissing a random girl. They then used the story to say that Louis and Eleanor had broken up a few weeks before (no official statement besides the representatives one for tabloids if I'm remembering correctly). A few people called Louis a cheater too but since at that time larries were so happy with the break up that it got a bit on the downlow of the whole cheating narrative. Also Eleanor didn't make any public comment about it even though she was papped in the UK.

Liam (2022): Teenager disappeared for a whole month - not using the ring in the pics she posted, being in Texas and the last time we knew they were in the same place was in The Bahamas, but we never actually saw them together there and Liam canceled his presence at the conference - and then we get pictures of a girl which Liam knew close to him. Fans quickly realized who she was and only after that did the girl posted two IG stories that are being used to say he cheated: one pic with them holding hands and one of them hugging. No kissing or anything! A few hours later the teenager comments on a pic of the hug using incorrectly the word "fiancé", mind you this account hasn't been active in years! She gained followers again (which she has been losing) and quickly posts an ad for Tequila. A couple of hours later Liam's team releases the official statement that he and the teenager had broken up a month ago so Liam being seen with a new person isn't actually cheating, but the cheater narrative had already spread on twitter since the teenager made that comment.

See? Basically the same strategy used! The difference was that in Liam's case his team was a bit late in spreading the official narrative they chose and the cheater one had already spread on social media and the media.

Am I the only one seriously looking at this and seeing the similarities?! I can't be the only one!? It was the first thing I thought about when Liam's stuff happened.

Also I need to say this because I think people are stupid with this one: do you really think Liam is stupid and dumb? Or that Conor and Steve that were there with him are stupid and would let him publicly cheat? Like it wasn't even random paps finding him cheating? It was two IG stories that honestly don't have anything bad in it! Liam has been media trained for half of his life, he is a chameleon in handling a lot of stuff... so again I ask: DO YOU REALLY THINK LIAM WOULD BE THIS STUPID AS LETTING SOMEONE, WHO FANS ARE KEEPING AN EYE ON, POST STUFF WITHOUT BEING WHAT WAS INTENDED TO HAPPEN?!

[knowlesian]

i’ve sort of debated whether i wanted to hit post on this and despite the fact that i have clearly now done it: i am honestly still internally unsure!

i am painfully aware that the target audience for this message is more likely to roll their eyes about ‘woke fandom’, ignore my actual point, and get back to creating alternate histories surrounding why they’d prefer one of ed’s ancestors floating alone on a raft to wherever the fuck, instead, because for them: this isn’t emotional. this is fun.

but this was part of what i really wanted to say in that ask about “hey, stop saying māori. honestly if you just stop pointing out these things entirely and shut up about race unless you talk about it in ways that make me feel good that would work out great for me” the other week, and it will not leave me mentally alone until i do it.

(which, again: that was what the ask actually said. exact wording being the thing that defeats unintentional racism is a weird reverse uno card that gets played a lot in these situations, so to be clear that was not the verbatim word choice. however, asking people to stop referring to ed as māori leads to the question: what do you want me to call him? because we all seem to agree: ed is not a white man. 

so what then? you want me to say ‘brown’ and leave it there? ‘i guess some sort of polynesian?’ or, given the strange insistence on race blindness here, is the goal to get everybody to pretend race doesn’t factor into social dynamics? because unfortunately, that’s a thing only white people get to do. not because the rest of us don’t want to— but because the world will not let us.)

i’m not māori and ed’s story is so culturally specific and influenced by that history that pretending i can do anything but see an echo of myself in him would be silly, at best: but i do have that echo.

i’m from the united states, where we also have a long and lovely history of genocide both literal and cultural towards our indigenous populations. 

it’s the cultural part that gets me really fucked up on a personal level v a justice one, when i see the shadows of myself reflected in this adjacent lane. white people stealing indigenous kids and raising them to be nothing but white is not just a part of my ancestral history; it’s how i got adopted. 

when my birthmother started the process the race math was done, and it came up with: ooooh yeah, sorry. this one’s a little bit too much Not White, send ‘em through the tribal system, it’s the law.

and then some legal fuckery happened. for reasons i both don’t want to and don’t feel comfortable explaining further, a box saying ‘nope! just white!’ was checked on some paperwork: i went home with a white couple. 

i have known all my life two things, because i was told them over and over:

- that i am so not white, it took a crime to bring me home

- and that since they did that, all i am is white. 

(i grew up when the us was OBSESSED with the idea of being a melting pot, and my mom used to like to tell a story about how when i was young, people would come up to her in public all the time and ask ‘what i was’. apparently i wore my soul a lot more clearly on my face those days and now, i pass so well white people like to say “no! but look at you! you’re just white!” when i clarify the particulars here.

so, so very many white people often wanna tell me i am also white in the same way they are, very very much. and from white people who i thought didn’t roll like that, too! they’ve got a great-grandma who is 1/4 cherokee they tell me— why always cherokee i want to ask, but never do? i’m not cherokee, do you not know any other tribe names orrrr???— and it never stops blowing my mind.

anyway, the punchline to my mom’s story about people asking her what mixed race baby shop she found me in was her saying: ‘they’re my CHILD, THE END THAT IS ALL THAT MATTERS’ because in this story, she was a hero. this was not a story about gross racists. this was a story about how evolved she was for knowing my heritage didn’t actually matter.

when i say this show helps me handle the tension i feel, trying to urge well-meaning white people to Get With It, i so often mean ‘i want to love my family and be honest at the same time, this is so fucking hard what do i do and where are my people???????? i feel like maybe they’re not here’.)

so i get it: for white fans, this is Just Intellectual. they’re focused on the dates and times, and as far as they’re concerned the ravages of empire are a thought experiment; for me and many others, this is what made us who we are. 

seeing ed, a māori man with a mother who believed the lies the world told her and a white father who didn’t see the problem with any of this means a whole fucking lot to me. (and oh lord! don’t even get me started on why his dynamic with izzy is partially so fascinating to me because i can see myself in them both, depending on how i split my life experience between emotional realities and systemic advantages.) this show is the thing that’s gotten me to fucking ask myself “can i... even say i’m white passing? is that me lying, or is that me decolonizing my own fucking brain?” 

(my therapist: also very thankful. she keeps joking about sending the creative staff fruit baskets.)

so yeah anyway. this is just an emotional attempt to explain why the ed thing sucks from my adjacent lane, no big conclusion except:

i honestly don’t even care if white fans think i’m right? i just wish they would consider the deeper implications of the refusal to accept ed could be māori, and what it does to those of us who see ourselves in this show not simply because it’s Gay Pirates, but because it’s Intersectional Pirates.

[kilbygrl]

GRIEVING; jack harlow

pairing: jack harlow x fem!reader

summary: you don’t know how to deal with your parents death, but at least jack is there to help you.

category: kinda angsty.

warnings: talk about death, funerals, fear of being alone and maybe some grammatical errors because english is not my first language.

a/n: requests are open! and maybe tmwr ill post a smutty fic 🤏🏼

masterlist

YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW LONG YOU’VE BEEN LOOKING AT THE CEILING, or how long Jack's soft fingers have been rubbing you belly, but it’s been a while. The raindrops beat violently against the window, causing a noise that brings you some comfort. It's been a long time since you’ve made any sound other than sighs, while you feel part of the pain slowly disappearing, you don't really feel like talking and even if you wanted to, you couldn't.

Your lips are dry, as is your throat. You can't cry either, you can only feel. You don't even look like the same person who broke half her room two days ago when she got the news that her parents were dead. In fact, you didn't feel like yourself that day, after all, you were never one to breakdown, but you were blind for a few minutes and when you finally woke up all the damage was done. You don't blame yourself either, it happens.

A few hours ago, you were at their funeral. The reality is that it hasn’t hit you yet, even though all these doubts are still circling you mind, and you don't think you'll ever believe it. Feels like it's just words hurting you for no reason. You have no idea what's going on, you’re completely disoriented. You couldn't even say anything to the people while you were there, you couldn't hear most of the condolences and you didn't even have any ready answers for any core of people who were present.

The only thing you paid attention to was that someone told you that the worst day of your life was not yesterday, or today, or tomorrow, the worst day will be a week, a month from now, when you’re going to be alone, when all that's left is silence and you realize it's a fact. It made you feel scared. People are everywhere, afraid of leaving me alone, you even had to beg them to stay only with your boyfriend, they didn't want to leave your house.

You’re so scared that part of the pain comes from the fear of being alone. You’ve always enjoyed being alone, thinking about many people in one place causes you anxiety, but you know that from the moment your boyfriend walks through the front door of your house, it's going to hurt. It's going to hurt a lot, and this feeling of anticipation causes you panic.

"Do you think I'll be alone forever?" you ask in a whisper to the man lying next to you.

His fingers stop moving for a few seconds as heavy breath escapes his lips.

“Forever is a very long perception of time,” he replies, now with his hand finding yours and his fingers closing around it. “And it's a long time for someone to be alone”

"So, you don't think I'll be alone?"

“I don't know how to answer that question without giving a monologue,” he says, causing you to let out a short nasal laugh.

“I'm afraid. Of being alone… of being surrounded by people who just feel sorry for me. I don't want people to feel sorry for me, you know?” you sigh, lifting your head to look into Jack’s blue eyes “Yesterday people were looking at me like I was a lost child. As if I asked and needed their pity. My parents never looked at me like that. You never looked at me like that”

“I don't pity you. I'm sorry for everything that happened, but I don’t think pitying you will make you feel any better”

"Did all those people really know them? Mom always said relationships can be so empty… She hates wakes. She hated it”

“And you got that from her.” and suddenly his fingers caress your face, brushing away the strands of hair scattered across it.

“I'm a copy of her” you smile slightly, your grandmother always told you that “These last few days have gone by so fast”  

“Yeah, you haven't slept properly in a while,” he says and you pout.

He was just as much time awake as you were, you hadn't seen his dark circles this deep in a long time.

“I can't rest…” you mutter, shrugging your shoulders.

You find yourself on the fine line of off and a mile a minute. Even though your body is limp from tired, you can't find any point where you can focus and relax.

“Come here” Jack pulls you, placing a simple kiss on your forehead and laying you down back on his chest.

The fingers stroking your hair help with what you wanted, something to distract you. And then, the sense of security you'd lost a few days ago returns. You felt so unprotected the last few days, you missed all the security your parents gave you. You felt tiny. It's kind of funny, in a way, to stop to analyze how important parents are when it comes to raising a person. You’re so glad you had the best in the world, and then you realized that you would never be alone.

You have all these moments, all the advice, memories, letters… all these things to remind you that your parents would never leave you alone. You have them inside you, after all, You’re a part of them.  And on top of that, you have people who don't make you feel like you’re sinking. You have Jack.

You have it all, and yet you’re still scared to death.

[galactic-marvelettes]

@sincerethoughtsblog I get why Disney Adults are mad. Because for years, a lot of us got put down by feminists for loving princess. We were told that the princesses were “weak” and “passive” and just bad role models for young girls. Hell, for a while I struggled to reconcile my feelings as a feminist with the admiration I had for the princesses. Eventually, I came to realize that I could, in fact, be a feminist and love the princesses and it didn’t diminish my worth as a woman. The Disney fandom taught me that.

That being said, it really sucks to watch the very same adults who validated my feelings hate on Rachel based on 5-second clip that originated on some conservative misogynist’s Tiktok. A clip in which she never said that women who want to find true love are “weak”. She just said that her Snow White was going to be a more proactive heroine.

But when I try to point that out (as well as the fact that they are adding fuel to the fire), they don’t care to listen. One woman said that Rachel “fucked [the movie] up” and when I tried to tell her my thoughts on the situation, she promptly shut me down. And that stung a lot because I occasionally liked talking with her.

Meanwhile, others are just flying off the fucking handle because they’ve decided from Rachel’s comments – which they took out-of-context – that Snow White is now “ruined” because somehow her being portrayed as a more proactive heroine who won’t prioritize romance automatically means she’s now some “woke feminist girlboss” who is no longer feminine and eschews romance because its silly.

Rachel said none of that. But they’re all too blinded by their hatred to be rational about anything right now. And I’m so fucking done with all of it.

And what I find absolutely jarring about the whole thing is that a lot of these people just finished watching “Barbie” and singing its praises, especially America Ferrera’s monologue, and here they are doing the very same things she was talking about to Rachel.

Disney adults are a whole different breed because out of nowhere, when did y'all care about snow white. All of sudden, you have fancams and edits of Snow White, your now snow-white activists 🤨. Right.....plus Harrison Ford and robert pattinson actively hate Star Wars and Twilight yet never got bash for it.