#god i hate being mid 20s and having to live with them

[tojisteddy]

Daddy issues | “and if you were my little girl, I’d do whatever I could do…”

cw: 18+ MDNI, 4.1k words (omfg), smut with plot, meanie!simon (he’s a crazy, asshole), Daddy kink, daddy issues (obvi), dd/lg dynamics, mentions of abuse, sexualization of ‘pa, kiddo’ (truly a case of if you hate it just scroll), oral (f receiving), dacryphilia, creampie, full nelson, age gap (reader mid-late 20s, Simon early-mid 30s), no use of y/n (I use [+]).

a/n: obviously influenced by daddy issues by the neighborhood (I know it’s not about this at all, take it up with god), also by take you down by sza :3

You weren’t used to being this needy in your entire life.

You swore you didn’t need anyone, let alone Ghost Riley. You’d been repetitively normal in all your past relationships.

But he’d run through your mind like the Flash going back in time— the older man ruined some of the circuits in your brain.

You’d two gotten into an argument, shocker, but this time over how you were acting. The usually chilled out girl who Ghost would call when he wanted to see his little kitten purr, was now desperate for every little bit of his attention. The blonde despised every bit of it.

“You’re bein fuckin greedy.” He told you, walking away from where you stood after you told you’d wanted to stay over again for another week. Of course, you easily followed right behind, attempting to match his long stride. You never could.

“By wanting to be with you? Aren’t boyfriends supposed to want to see their girlfriends? Supposed to spend time together? There are probably a million girls and guys with sweet boyfriends—“

“—Do I look like one of those buddy buddy, pretty boys you like to fuck to you, [+]?” He turned on his heal, luckily you didn’t crash into his chest like you usually did. His voice was ice cold, “Answer me.”

“No sir.” You mumbled, the air was thick, tightly wrapping around your vocal cords.

“Then why the hell are you bein so damn needy? I told you, I won’t give you all my attention. I’ve got my own shit to take care of and you want me to, what? Hold you on my fuckin hip like a baby?” Well, hey— “Stop bein a damn brat and get the fuck out my face.”

“ ‘M not askin you to take care of me Si, but, I just want-“

“—Cut the shit [+]. You’re pissin me off, why can’t you just fuckin listen? I hate the clingy, desperate shit, get it out of your damn head and get it out of my fuckin house.” He stormed off into one of the bedrooms with a slam of the door.

Simon never had to tell you when he was kicking you out. You’d always go on your own.

He swore if he saw you and you were still stuck on the idea that you had to cling to him, he was gonna rip you a new one.

Did you take him serious?

On a good day, never.

You’d be stuck thinking about how good he looked, blonde hair a mess, veins popping out his neck and his arms, large muscles flexing, face screwed up towards you— you’d lick up all the poison he’d spewed to you over and over. It’s funny, at times like that you’d just wanted to know, if he’d fuck all his anger into you? Maybe you’d cum so many times just from finger fucking you, you’d be a babbling mess, begging for more—

Delusional.

Maybe when he was actually angry with you, not when Ghost was aggravated to the point he didnt want to physically see you.

And at the absolute worst of times, you’d trusted his words. You stayed away for a couple weeks just as you were told because you so desperately wanted to be told how good you were when you got that call. How you weren’t a needy bitch, but the prettiest & smartest girl he’d ever been with.

And of course you could’ve heard those simple words from anyone in a ten mile radius, ask your online followers for a few complements and you would’ve gotten them like clockwork. But you needed to hear it from that meanie.

Did you have a praise kink? Perhaps.

Did you need men’s approval to live? God forbid.

You just wanted Ghosts approval. His rough hands from those long days of being in action to touch your body, the playful head pats you swore you hated it cause it messed up your hair, a good smack to the ass as praise when he instructed you on how to change a car tire, fat fingers trailing your back as you sat in his lap, reading those books you loved a loud. Gruff voice praising after you had such an amazing day at work— as if you’d been the one to align everything so it could all work in your favor. ‘Good job doll, you’re doin well for yourself.”

Those underlying daddy issues would tear themselves out of you— like some junkie, you craved to hear his praises, feel it on your skin. It tingled the ivory inside you like a piano.

You tried taking your mind off it, throwing yourself into work, hanging out with your friends, doing a stream or two just to see if anyone showed up, get your mind straight so you wouldn’t be so dependent.

But giving a stray attention then yanking it away would be plain rude.

Your brain was in turmoil, front of your brain started to thunk, thunk, thunk from how much you were over thinking. To top it off, your father had called you just as you’d gotten done having lunch with some friends.

It’d be a long fucking night.

“No, I'm not moving back to the US just so I can be married off to someone stranger. Are you crazy?” You practically shrieked once you’d heard your stupid father on the other side of the call. No ‘hello,’ ‘how are you?’ ‘It’s been a while’ just straight bullshit.

Something about an arranged marriage with the son of a businessman he was trying to partner with. You wanted to punch him square in his jaw— ooooh calm down. You were okay. It’s perfectly fine.

“It’s for the betterment of your future, [+]. Why am I the only one who cares about that? You can’t go playing around with dogs all day—“

“I have serious clients dad, famous ones. Rich one’s. I’m not grooming dogs for nothing, even talked about opening my own place.” You tried. It was your dream, something not even your boss knew about. But Simon knew, in fact, he was the one who pushed you the most about really chasing after what you wanted. He had the most faith in you, and you yearned to hear him reassure you right now. Even if it was just him saying, ‘dont let those cunts get in your head, you’re my smart girl, aren’t ya? You know best.’

You would’ve killed to hear that right now.

Your father chastised, “A little grooming license isn’t a bachelors degree, is it?”

Oh. You blinked. He always had to take it there when he couldn’t get his way, because everything needed to go your father’s way or no one could be happy. You wiped your hand over your face in frustration, huffing as you continued on to your apartment, tuning out whatever the man was saying with ‘mmhm’.

Like a knight in shining armor but the opposing enemy, there the skull mask wearing man sat in his big black truck right in front of your apartment building. Simon didn’t even have to say anything when he caught your brown eyes, just motioned his head. ‘Come.’

Did he have to tell you twice?

You climbed in the car, heart pounding, not even listening to the words that were coming from the other side of the line because someone ten times more important had showed up.

“Where’ve you been?” He’d filled the cars silence in a hushed tone. Just enough so you could hear but your father couldn’t.

You fumbled around with your purse, looking at anything you could but the man beside you, “…You told me not to come over.”

“And you actually listened?” Simon griminced, eyebrow raised at you as he continued to drive.

Because usually, you’d show up even if you were the one who was mad. Ignoring him like he did you, even if you two were in the same space but you were still together. He’d still pull you in his arms, rubbing his head in the crevice of your neck because you were so damn cute with those eyebrows furrowed and pout.

“I didn’t wanna make you more upset this time.” You wanted to hide yourself but that truck left no room for it.

Well that didn’t work, did it? It just made him more annoyed. To the point Price had to tell him to ease up on the lower ranked soldiers during training. Even if he did push you away, you were a boomerang, always finding your way back to the older brute— a constant. You were a stray cat that would brush into Simon each time he gave you a little attention, a little food, a little love. And he liked it, his cute little thing that would ease his mind from everything even if you were a little annoying. Something to care for.

Like, a puppy? A kitten? No, more. Girlfriend? Of course. A step down to hell. His baby girl. His baby—

Before Simon could get another word out, the rambling from your phone the both of you were ignoring turned into yelling. His hand gripped the wheel with a scuff. Simon hated your father to say the very least, an annoying, prude that man was. He had a nasty habit of calling you and spewing utter bullshit in your ear, critiquing every little one of your life choices even though he didn’t raise you, didn’t pay for anything— he was just another entitled sperm donor. Simon had to tell you to hang up different times because he couldn’t stand someone talking to you like that.

It took Simon back to his own father, that abusive, psychopathic prick. Didn’t know what the hell he was doing with him and his younger brother, fucker always was on ballistic shit. Throwing things against the wall, putting his hands on anyone in that God forsaken house that breathed wrong, drinking non stop and the goddamn yelling. He didn’t want that for you— didn’t want to end up like that bastard. Simon cared about you too much, he wouldn’t let that happen. So in his fucked up way of caring, he’d push you away. Saying anything that came to mind, only meaning 61% what he actually said.

But that proved to be a new dead end.

Which led to a new resolution: he’d fix whatever issue went on in his head and keep you if it meant not having to see you very clearly, shut yourself down to cope or having to hear your annoying father talking down on you like an imbecile.

Ghost’s own head was reeling— he would never let anyone talk to you like you were an idiot. Couldn’t even imagine it. Yes, you were a little agitating, a little fucking dumb— but that was fixable. Nothing Daddy couldn’t fix. And if you trip and fall on your mistakes, the older man was right there to catch you. He’d refix your problems a thousand times over if he had to, why? Because he adored you to pieces.

But you weren’t an idiot, you can’t fix inherent incompetence.

His princess wasn’t incompetent.

That’s why every fuckin time you were on the phone with your father, which was already rare, he wanted to shove his booted foot right the man’s ass. Sew his asshole shut and keep feeding him, and feeding him, and feeding him. Water board the guy and show everyone how he was the fuckin embarrassment and not his sweet precious daughter—

Simon would try to hold whatever anger was festering this time because you, for your mothers sake, were trying to fix the relationship you didn’t break.

He was off the rocker, yes, but he’d get the shit together. Quick. Somehow. For you.

Be good, good, be good, be good—

“—And I bet you’re still fucking around with that ass aren’t you, [+]? You can be such a fucking idiot, it’s time to grow the hell up-“

You weren’t a fucking idiot. Never. If Simon didn’t call you that, what made anyone think they had the right to?

He didn’t hesitate to snatch the phone out of your hands, “—Are you out of your fuckin mind!?”

His voice boomed, filling the car, not even your father was talking anymore. The only sound that could be heard was the engine and the tires rolling on the pavement.

“Ya don’t say shit to your own kid for a decade but now you think you can run her life because you got some money in your pocket? Money you haven’t even spent a single pound on her—“ there was a quick muffled noise from the other side of the phone but Ghost was faster, “I’m disrespectful!? I wish I gave a shit about what you think of me or what I’m doin with your fuckin daughter. She’s with me for good reason.”

“—The next time you call you’d better have one foot in the grave or I’m gonna find you and make sure you do my fuckin self.” The blonde pressed the red button on the screen, a few more taps to block the man who, the blonde man had decided, wouldn’t be in your life.

After putting your phone in your lap, his hand immediately went to the back of your neck and letting out a deep breath, rubbing the baby hairs with his thumb. Soothing you. You saw Simon mouth move but you didn’t hear what came out of it. It was like your ears were shot just for a second, your heart beating loudly, you had wrapped yourself in a daze whenever you’d talk to your father and this had to be the first time someone not only yanked you out of it, but fully and undoubtedly protected you.

“Kid.” he barked, more profound.

Your big brown eyes snapped over to him, your brain finally catching up to what was happening in the moment.

“You’re okay, ‘s okay. I’ve got you, gonna take care ‘f you. Promise. You want that? Want me to take care of you, hm baby?” His voice was so soft, inviting, pulling you into whatever he’d had set for you in his mind.

How could you say no, when all you ever wanted was to be Simons?

“Yes sir.”

Famous last words.

Like you’d ignited a flame, his brown eyes flickered with mischief.

Ghost, the usual menace, rough man was being cloying with you.

Leaving gentle kisses all over as he made his was down to the heat in the middle of your legs. Big hands roaming the rest of your body as he slid your black, wet, underwear off, throwing your legs over his shoulders and giving a nice smooch to your cunt.

“So fuckin pretty baby, ‘s all for me?” His tongue slide up and down your vulva.

“Y-Yeah,” you said breathlessly, eyes fluttering shut as Ghost lapped up every juice that was coming out of you.

The older man scuffed, slipping a finger inside your tight walls and slowly thrusting them. “ ‘yeah’? That’s all you gotta say? Don’t be stubborn with me doll, wanna be nice to you today.”

You felt a pinch to your thigh, a warning, “keep those pretty eyes on me swee’art, need you focused on me.”

Your head tilted itself to the side, nodding your head and biting your lip to contain your moan but it’s barely doing anything as you watch Simon slip another fat finger into you, pumping his fingers faster and finally going up to your clit, taking a little nibble of it and then talking it in his mouth.

“Fu- mmm- fuuuck- wait- Si- I- can I cum? Please? Can I?” You whimpered, peeking down at the brown eyes that were stuck on you. Ghost was smirking, almost enough to get a laugh out of him.

“Course baby, bein so good. Can cum as much as you want today.” His fingers curled just right at the perfect spot inside you and your walls flutter around his fingers. But he’s not stopping, course he’s not, the man has to get a good taste of you, get you cumming with his fingers, without his fingers, without sucking your clit— he sucking out every drop that leaves your cunt.

Ghost was taking his sweet time, as if you didn’t need him inside you desperately. You were aching for more after cumming a fourth time, bucking your hips only for Ghost to press down on them to keep you still.

He pulled his mouth away from you, face covered in your slick, “Jesus baby, cut it out, will you? Thought you wanted Daddy to take care of you?”

“D-do, I do. It’s just- just-“

“Don’t tell me you’re not used to it.” His ends of his lips turned up into a smirk, teasing, fingers rubbing your clit just enough to keep you wanting more yet slow enough to keep your attention only on him.

No. No you weren’t. He’d known that.

Simon usually manhandled you every which way and any position he wanted you in. Edging you as much as he wanted then giving it to you deep and leaving you breathless at every moment. And it’s not like you hated it, you loved every second of it. But this- this situation made your brain melt.

The older man just looooved that.

“Give me another, let me feel it.” His hands went to grope your tits, squeezing and pulling at them as he rubbed his face further into your pussy, completely devouring you whole. The blonde slid his long tongue back inside your hole, thrusting it just right. The man groaned as you pulsed around him, somehow getting sweeter as you fell apart.

He kept touching all over you, the curve your breasts, the peak of your nipples, the dips in your hips and thighs— ever so softly. As if he was revisiting a map he’d known like the back of his hand, making sure he knew every nook and cranny of you, the cause of every twitch, shake, and moan, the reason slick kept flowing down onto his tongue.

Why?

Well a good Daddy just had to know his baby well, shouldn’t he?

You should’ve known, there was no way Simon would ever be nice and go easy on you the whole time he was fucking you. But you were being silly, fantasizing about him slipping inside you and being gentle.

Your mistake for thinking a man so large in size, so brutal with words, with the biggest and fattest dick you’ve ever seen in your life would ever treat your poor pussy kindly :(. You always looked so perfect when he had you crying, so easy to bully, Ghost just couldn’t help himself.

“Si- Simon!” You yelped out, as he finally bottomed out inside your pink walls that were gonna chop his manhood off. He’d had you stuck in an inescapable full nelson, legs spread wide open and beefy arms hooked under knees, forcing your head down to look at the disappearing act of the century happening with his cock and your cunt.

“Look at the fuckin mess you’re makin kiddo, gonna get my thighs wet at this rate.” Ghost was plopping you up and down, up and down on his length, the loud sloshing sound of your sopping wet pussy filling the room.

“No- Si- aangh- it’s too much!” And it’s not like you could even push any of him away, as he thrusted up into you, making sure you took every single inch imaginable.

“Such a fuckin liar baby. What a fuckin liar you are, ‘nd you don’t think I’ve fuckin noticed that you won’t call me how you’re supposed to? Huh? Didn’t teach you to lie like that, did I?”

You’d internally cursed, slapping at his hand for some relief but your mouth only letting out moans. Yes, you were avoiding calling him ‘daddy,’ even though you’d call him that casually, it felt so off today after your falling out with your father. It made your head spin, because it wasn’t just a nickname anymore.

You were craving the missing hole you’ve been ignoring this whole time, to be filled with the man fucking you like a slut in his big arms.

“Told you I’d take care of ya, didn’t I princess? Promised you I’d be reaalll good to ya but— shit, your squeezing the life outta me— can’t be nice if you don’t treat your own daddy proper, can I?” You moaned at his words, shaking your head because this man was gonna make you go insane, tonight. Pushing you past the point of no return, and no, he wouldn’t let go of your hand while he’d did it.

He’d hold your hand and jump with you.

“Come on, call me how you’re ‘posed to kid.” He grunted in you ear, sucking on your earlobe, “Call the only man you’ll ever need, the man who’s fuckin your pretty pussy right, know you want to. Come on.”

He was egging on that delusion that sat, triple boxed up and in the farthest corner of your mind of your mind. Teasing, taunting you, probing at the thought that you swore you locked away that one time it slipped out of you mid conversation months ago.

But Simon remembered. In fact, he’d just needed the ‘okay’ from your plump lips because he longed to hear you call him that oh so sweet yet oh so sinful name once more. He wanted to be your number one. The man you relied on, someone that would never leave you like your father did. Better than your father, better than any one of those little boys you’d fool around with in the past. Damn it, and it was making you wetter.

“Paaa! You feel so good pa!” You mewled, throwing your head back on his shoulder in pleasure.

You felt that maniacal grin form on Ghosts lips on your shoulder, leaving a kiss on your neck— he was proud of you. It tickled something in his brain, scratched the exact spot where his own daddy issues lay. He wasn’t new to hearing a sex partner call him daddy during sex, maybe he exuded that energy— it was in his blood, Ghost didn’t know. But you just kept pushing the line, accidentally calling him that magic word when he’d praise you. And it stuck. You’d call him daddy like it was second nature. Looking up at him with those pretty brown eyes, obediently listening to whatever he had to say. That’s what all the fucking clingy shit was about, the needy, desperation of it all.

Wanting a father figure from a hell raiser— it was arranged. You were a good girl. Ghosts good little girl.

“Therrre you go princess, atta girl! Doin so good for me, cum on your daddy’s dick. Show me how good you are baby, milk me dry.”

You shook your head, belligerent sobs escaping you. You couldn’t believe you’d just call him that, of all things. And you tried to retract it, whining your way through your orgasm that left you trembling, Simon himself filling your tight cunt with every bit cum that sat in his balls.

“I- I- hicc- I didn’t mean to call you- hicc- I’m sorry.” You blabbered out, how sweet. How cute, you were trying to collect yourself. He pulled out of you with a roll of his eyes, flipping you onto your stomach, rubbing the tip against your hole that was leaking with the both of your cum. What a miraculous sight.

“No, baby you did. Don’t worry that pretty little head,” he cooed, slipping his dick back inside you, groaning at the feel of you. “pa’s got you.”

“Come on doll, wanna hear you,” He rocked his hips into you, the room filling with the smack, smack, smack, smacking of his balls hitting your wet pussy, ripples forming on your ass with every thrust.

Your brain was turning to mush, drool forming and dripping down the sheets of the bed. The only thing you were able to think of was daddy, daddy, daddy, pa, pa, pa. How good your pa was drilling into you like a maniac.

Simon’s hand wrapped around your curly hair, dragging you up to your knees as he continued to ram into you, “This allll my sweet little girl needed? Your pa to take care of you like a good daddy should. Fuck, that bastard couldn’t treat you right could he? Show you how a man’s supposed to treat you, huh?”

“Noooo sir- nghhh.” you keened, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Tha’s right princess, don’t worry though— I love you. Your pa loves you soooo. fuckin. much baby. No one’s gonna love you more than me.”

Those words alone is what set off your next orgasm, he was talking crazy, actually. And you loved every second of it, back arching even more so as you pulsated around his throbbing cock. He was still thrusting into you chasing his own orgasm, a string of curses leaving his mouth as you felt the tip of him spasm. He made you so full of him, you’d felt so warm all over.

“Shit, such a good girl for me, gonna take such good care of you from now. What do ya say?” He took you in his arms, laying you on top of him. You could feel his heart beating, chest heaving. Both of your skin sticky with sweat.

“Thank you pa.” You wrapped your arms him.

“Oh princess,” Ghost smiled, pressing his lips against yours, cupping your face with one hand and caressing it with his thumb, “you’re so welcome.”

a/n: it’s three people who are gonna read all this, me being one of them. If you liked it leave me a message or comment. If you hated it, idk. I’m just a big dadbf!simon enthusiast.

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[ssentimentals]

hellouu nini🤗👋🏻 it's me (again hihi, hope you aren't sick of me yet) can i request no 20 with jihoon and dokyeom? like... poly :) their personality got switch or something and then reader was like really confused, idk... yeah. Thank youuu and have a nice day💜💜

hellouu my dear! not sick, never sick of returning followers 💜 i've never written poly before, so apologies if this ends up being bad :( hopefully it isn't!

prompt: 'personality swap'

you blink, your gaze swapping from jihoon to seokmin and back. 'is everything...alright?'

you think it's a rather fair question to ask, considering both of your boyfriends are acting off. you have never seen jihoon act this enthusiastic about anything in his life and seokmin looks like he's hitting mid-life crisis for no apparent reason. so yeah, you think it's a very reasonable thing to ask. seokmin sighs in a totally jihoon kind of way, rubbing at his face furiously before pointing his finger at jihoon with loud: 'it's his fault!'

jihoon, to your utter shock, starts sputtering and speaking in a high-pitch tone, all animated and angry: 'mine? you're the one who took the first sip!' he then turns to you, pouty and dejected: 'sweetpea, i swear it wasn't me!'

it would've looked comical if only- 'sweetpea?' you repeat, staring at jihoon with a raised eyebrow. 'you never call me that. you always call me 'love' and 'sweetpea' is-'

'seokmin's way of calling you,' seokmin finishes for you, sighing again.

'why are you-' you pause, realization hitting you like a truck. 'oh my god. you- did you drink that green vial i left on the table?' their guilty faces make you want to smack both of them. 'idiots, both of you. you swapped bodies?'

'bingo!' jihoon lets out, throwing his hands in the air and then instantly grimacing: 'shit, do you not take care of your back? why does it hurt so much?'

seokmin only glares. 'i take care of it fine enough, you're just overstretching!'

it's- well, you guess it should be very concerning, but in reality it's hilarious. the effect from the potion should wear off in a day so you're not too worried; you tell your boyfriends this, who both only roll their eyes in response. to watch seokmin act like jihoon and vice versa is unsettling at first - seokmin's face is never etched in a frown and he never is this...quiet; jihoon never has this spring in his step and never talks that much. it is weird but you very quickly realize the opportunities this little situation presents to you. with an unhidden glee you jump on the couch and loudly call: 'seokkie, let's cuddle!'

jihoon stumbles into the living room like an eager puppy, gladly cuddling up to you and peppering your face with sweet kisses. you giggle, grabbing tv remote to pick something, when seokmin enters the area, sending you an unimpressed glare. 'i know what you're doing.'

'you never like to cuddle when it's this hot outside, i gotta use my chances,' you stick out your tongue at him, huffing when seokmin crosses his arms on his chest. 'stop frowning, you'll give seokmin wrinkles.'

real seokmin, who's trapped in jihoon's body, happily pulls you close, not minding the heat one bit. he lets you lean his head on his shoulder and starts playing with your fingers, smiling when you propose some old comedy to watch. real jihoon though, who's trapped in seokmin's body, truts over, sulking. he gingerly sits next to you both, chewing on his bottom lip. 'do you really hate it when i tell you that i don't want to cuddle cause it's too hot?'

you blink, sensing that this is important. turning to face him, you reach out for his hand. 'of course i don't hate it, jihoon. i can never hate anything about you, baby.'

seokmin nods, also reaching out for him. 'it's a pity but we get it. it was just a joke.'

it's weird to see jihoon's emotions reflect on seokmin's face. you lean in and gently tug your other boyfriend to join cuddling session. 'just stay here, yeah? it's all that matters.'

'with us,' seokmin adds, smiling softly at him. 'we just want you close.'

'such saps,' jihoon grumbles but obeys anyway. he walks to another side and leans his head on seokmin's shoulder, taking your other hand in his and giving it a light kiss. 'let's watch this movie.'

you grin, hitting play. it's unsettling to have their personalities swap, but it's incredibly heart warming how nothing really changed in the way they both showered you with love and put you first in the middle of their relationship. smiling, you interlace your fingers with jihoon's and pat lovingly seokmin's hand that's wrapped around your torso. tomorrow they will come back to themselves and you still are sure that tomorrow you three will be in the exact same position on the couch like nothing changed.

a/n: i kept getting confused omg i'm never writing personalities swaps again :D let me know what you think! - nini

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[the-spooky-children]

any angsty fireskulls headcanons?

Yeas

Well I think in a scenario where Skid and Pump are romantically involved, especially when they're older, Pump's abandonment issues/fear of abandonment would be a big source of angst in their relationship

If they're ever joking around with each other and Skid laughs and light heartedly says like "haha oh my god, I hate you!" or something Pump will try to laugh along but he's internally overtaken by fear because what if he's secretly telling the truth? Or will Skid one day genuinely say that to him outside of them joking together?

They don't argue often but when they do Pump is absolutely terrified that Skid is going to leave him. Even though they're dating they're still besties, and when they were kids Skid was the only child who didn't think he was weird, and he was his only friend, the one person that didn't leave him, so the idea of Skid leaving due to an argument (especially in a scenario where Pump is the one at fault) is one of the scariest things he can think of. Of course that never happens, and Pump feels a little guilty for ever thinking that someone as kind and loving as Skid would do that to him

I've mentioned this before but I like the idea that Pump had a very hard time making true friends as a child, because most of the kids that ever hung around him were doing it because they knew he came from a rich family and wanted to try and get money or expensive gifts from him, and if he realised what they were doing or refused to give them what they wanted they would immediately vanish from his life. Skid was the only one who stayed, the only one who saw him and not his parents' cash, the one who loved him and all his weird quirks

Skid knows about these struggles, and is therefore very very reluctant to let Pump buy him anything at all ever, even something as light as covering the whole bill at a restaurant (he insists on splitting it or covering it all himself every single time) or a bag of chips at the store. He's terrified of the idea of accidentally exploiting his boyfriend. Pump has to sit him down one day, hold his face in his hands and tell him directly that he wants to buy things for Skid because he loves him more than anyone else, and we've known each other for like 15 damn years, Skid, and we're living together, it's pretty clear by now that you're a real one. Skid may or may not have cried a little at that

If they ever get married when they're older, probably in their mid-late 20s, Pump's parents are too busy with their jobs to go to their wedding, which absolutely destroys Pump, as well as enraging Susie and Lila (who sent them countless messages and letters to them about it as they helped plan the wedding)

Speaking of Lila she had to comfort Pump a few times (mostly when he was around 15-19) because he was scared that he wasn't good enough to be with her son, or that he would hurt him without meaning to, and Lila just tells him she couldn't think of anyone better to be with her boy, and that she knows they'll take care of each other

Skid tries to forget about his dad being dead, but sometimes the grief comes back full force and Pump just holds him through it, no matter how long his shaking sobs last

One day when Pump is like 14? their parents send him and Susie a letter offering up the idea of them moving in with them in their apartment in the big city which is like a week's drive away (it's a couple states away). When he was younger, an offer like this would be a dream come true for Pump, but after falling for Skid there's no way he could bare being that far from him so he refuses

Skid insists that Pump should go with them at first and tells him they can just call and text each other until Pump has enough of his own money and agency to come back to the town when they're both adults, but he just shakes his head to every idea Skid has. His parents have been gone long enough for his priorities to have shifted. Susie also refuses because she's gotten so bitter when it comes to their parents, and is offended by the idea that she should drop all her friends and uproot the life she has at the town to be with them, and also cause she is supporting herself by then (Susie is a young adult at this point and already has a strong career as an artist)

That's only a portion of the ideas that I have, but they're the only ones coming to mind rn (i. just woke up), I'll add on if I think of any more!

[renstrapp]

blogging because I'm having fun with my new OC. she doesn't have anywhere to be, no webcomic or graphic novel or anthology project. she's just for me to doodle and think of when I listen to songs.

her name is Amira Miles, she's in her mid/late-20s, and she's a van life influencer. she fucking hates her job and hates having to be upbeat and relatable for thousands of people, but she loves being on the road and this was the quickest way to monetize that.

her real passion in life is coming into women's lives in all the national parks and small town bars and planet fitnesses she passes through and leaving a trail of devastation and one night stands in her wake. all that's left behind when she's gone is "oh god, am i gay now? what will my boyfriend think?" that kind of thing.

she always uses an alias when she picks up women because she doesn't want them looking her up when she inevitably ghosts them.

how this dirty, stinky outdoors woman who lives in her van has all the rizz? now that's... a case of the divine (me, i'm god)

there's more to say about her, and she might end up with a porn comic some day, but that's all I got to say tonight. thank you for listening. i'll draw her for you soon some time

[shamelessselfship]

I’m spitting out some Brett lore/facts before I pass the FUCK out:

~~~~~~~

- Brett is a year younger than the rest of the guys.

- Brett will refuse to tell you their actual name if you ask after they meet Bill. They’re too deep undercover!

- Brett was actively trying to avoid taking the same classes as the rest of the guys during high school.

- Brett is most accurately described as agender. By the time we get to epilogue they’ve been exploring femininity a bit more but they won’t deny that they felt most comfortable presenting masculinely.

- Brett is a little bit of a stalker(?) not intensively, might actually be an issue with being unmedicated with an anxious statement style:

They would message their crush with live commentary on whatever movie they’re watching, even if they don’t get a response.

They would try to be romantically poetic about their excitement to be around their crush just to come off as extremely creepy with how descriptive they are.

They would try to arrange their schedule around their crush’s interests.

- Brett’s personal rules around previously stated behavior:

They will not draw their crush. For some reason it seems to creep them out to doodle themselves kissing their crush… the exception to this is if their crush asks Brett to draw them.. too much staring at their face.

They only walk to their crush’s home if they are actively walking together. Brett would do this even if they live in the opposite direction.

If you tell them to stop, they will get all heartbroken and react like you just broke up with them. (Lil bit of a cry baby)

- Brett absolutely hates crying in public or show most “weaknesses” they also actively dislike seeing others cry, however it’s not entirely an empathy thing, it’s more of a “wtf are you doing? Don’t you know you’re going to be stared at if you keep it up?” Thing that they later realize is unhealthy.

- Brett really wants to think of a couple of guys romantically but is trying really hard not to.

- Brett is actually from the west coast, they dig it more on the east coast outside of the summer.

~~~~~~~~~~

Bonus rounds- Brett’s thoughts on the gang:

- Bill: they didn’t really pay mind to him at first, but does pay attention with a few topics he rants about.

- Brett actually finds him kinda cute, they are repulsed by him as soon as he says something after having those thoughts though (thank fucking god) hypothetically they could have a love hate situation if their situation was different.

- Brett actually thinks he has potential to be a decent person. They just need to work on.. Broadly everything.

- They’re gonna drop that relationship as soon as they don’t have to be around him. It’s not that they hate him, it’s more that they don’t want the constant stress on trying to decode if Bill is trying to fuck with their mind.

- On that actually- Bill actually has to ask Jerry to text them- not that he needs or wants to talk to them! (Riiight) Brett actually asked for Bills number to block it about the 3rd time Bill tried to make them cry.

- Josh: Brett doesn’t have too much of a negative opinion about them. Like yeah they need to be better about how they treat people but recognizes that most of his negative behavior is reinforced by Bill’s antagonizing and his parents caving on buying him things.

- initially Brett thought it was Pete that stole their Shawn of the dead figure- low key they were kinda pissed about it and saw it in his room after thinking they were over it which just left them irritated.

- Josh actually encourages them to learn more things about their favorite media, it’s weirdly comforting!

- Josh’s acting like an expert on Brett’s art is extremely tiring extremely quickly, they don’t really react they just kinda disassociate while Josh is going off.

-They kinda have a distant sibling relationship later in life! Brett loves Josh a lot platonically into their mid 20s.

- Josh actually got Brett a paint kit for their miniatures for their birthday! Obviously that meant they would have to paint Josh’s mini but they were hoping he would take the hint that they would do more the more they provide supplies.

- Jerry: honestly you couldn’t find a word Brett would say negatively about them.

- Out of the entire group they probably have the most in common interest wise, this is part of the reason why Brett has a tiny crush on them.

- Jerry is the only person Brett feels comfortable texting regularly. Like he doesn’t respond every time they text him but he replies at least once a day. This makes Brett feel extremely happy and probably fuels the crush a bit more.

- Brett loves helping Jerry pick out monsters to fight in their dnd campaigns. They won’t actually play but will be doodling the quest as the club is playing.

- Brett actually just burns CDs for Jerry. One time Jerry asked them how to do rip and burn CDs so he could make them a playlist too once. This made Brett go absolutely giddy for a solid 2 weeks after that.

- The best time they’ve had was actually hanging out with just Pete and Jerry for an entire day.

- Brett really likes how tall and lanky he is.

Speaking of Pete:

- Pete: God help us- this girl doesn’t understand why but she finds him so cute in a “the more you squint at it the prettier it is” kinda way.

- For some reason Pete being shorter than them makes them want to go absolutely feral in the form of horsing around. Maybe it’s some sort of cute aggression?

- They actually kinda wish they felt safe enough to tell him the truth but isn’t sure what would happen due to how he talks about girls.

- Honestly the only thing that makes them uncomfortable around him is what makes them uncomfortable around all the guys- how openly horny they all are- but weirdly where hearing Jerry say stuff makes them feel kinda insecure- hearing Pete say this shit makes them wonder what he would say about them.

- They are really happy they got him into watching Columbo with them. This kinda resulted in them trying out monster of the week and building gorey murder mystery campaigns.

—————-

Okay bonus thoughts:

-Jerry can’t help but think it’s his fault that Brett got caught up in the comic book store and can’t shake the guilt. This leads to Jerry ghosting them for long periods of time which just forces Brett to talk to Pete more. Brett in epilogue likely wonders what their life would be like if they didn’t move. They actually hope he either gets over this so they can keep talking and if not she wishes he would just say something and cut her off completely so they can at least know what’s going on.

- Brett spirals a bit social anxiety wise a lot before getting medicated- usually this would result in them removing everyone from their contacts. Before she moved away it was likely Jerry that would reach out first, in their 20s this likely shifted to Josh checking in on them whenever this happened. Pete usually doesn’t and Brett will just pop back up when they’re done spiraling.

—————

Thank you for your time!

[splitsy-honeyh]

My Split headcanons🍌💥

Half of these headcanons was made by me!!! Cuz I relate to Split the most 💫 (she's me frr)

—· HCs!! [Some of em r canon]

Split uses She/her prns

Like canon, she's a lesbian

she's kinda short to me so.. She's 5'6! (PLEASE DON'T JUMP ME)

CHUBBY QUEEN💥💥

She has a banana themed scarf but only used it when it's cold

She's canonically blind without glasses so.. She sleep with glasses on

SHE WATCH BFDI (or any object shows) !!! GUYS GUYS!! she had a banana objectsona

despite being short, she's tall if she stand on 2 of her back foot

Mid 20's

BFDI inspires her to make a gameshow (SplitsVille) and write all of the jokes n puns

she still have feelings for Bive (GOD I WANT THEM TO KISS)

Split lucky day is when she meet flamingo (this hc is fun cuz flamingo actually play regretevator)

she has a nerdy voice

Has a tooth gap

She has freckles (I FORGOT TO DRAW IT)

Removable shell

She has a good relationship ALMOST with everyone

Love weird food combination

Wife coded (frfrfrfr) /nsrs

she love to cook n bake

Uses leg warmers afraid she will be cold

She hates chocolate and cat

She knows almost all the puns but mostly into banana puns

She loves hanging out with Pilby and making jokes together, sometimes she bring Bive too!

Crazay😜😜 (sometimes)

Rest of it are canon (in the wiki)

—· FACTS!!

— Wallter n Mark helps Split build and constructing SplitsVille

^ this was before they were divorced

— Split lives alone in her house, but sometimes her sister came

— She bakes cookies and cakes for Bive whenever they're hungry or not

— Hosting a gameshow really exhaust her

AND... idk man,, But I will update this soon!!

[tanoraqui]

🔪❄️

[ask meme]

Already answered Knife.

❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?

I know I've said this before, but I really would like someone who has actual experience being a parent and/or having a notably messy relationship with at least one parent to write a fic about Curufin returning to life in Fourth Age Aman and trying to reconcile with Celebrimbor, and then - before he's actually done doing that - Fëanor returns as well so Curufin also has to sort out how he feels and is reacting to that.

I'd like it to be written by someone with more real-life experience in this sort of emotional tangle than I have, because I just...don't have many strong opinions about parenting. Which this story would very much be about, though not exclusively. However, it WOULD need to follow exactly my headcanons for characterization, worldbuilding, and generally the moral dynamics of the cosmology, because god knows that will also come up.

Key characters and other components include:

Curufin has, over the millennia of being dead, resignedly come around to the "less evil would have been done in the breaking of it" position on the Oath. However, he's still very proud and fucking hates apologizing to anyone. He'll do it but he hates it.

He hates it much less when it's apologizing to Celebrimbor, almost not at all. Celebrimbor, however, is very reluctant to believe his father repents of anything except getting caught.

Yantalmandë, Celebrimbor's Vanyarin wife, who is ready to support him either by kicking any unwanted family firmly out the door or by sympathetically talking him through forgiving them, for his own sake if not theirs - whichever the situation requires. One of the most notable heretics in Aman for her theory that morality and ethics can and should exist entirely independently from the dictates of Eru and the Valar but rather be derived from the nature and experience of Arda. She's mildly embarrassed whenever people bring up her philosophical infamy.

(This is, in fact, somewhat the moral of the story: that when you make a living thing, you may raise and guide and advise them, but you fundamentally lose the right to dictate their choices. Children should be independent from their parents and both should be proud of this.)

Curufinwen, their daughter, at least 1,000 years old but vibes as mid-20s, who in family tradition holds her father to be probably the greatest and definitely her favorite person in the world, and who is distinctly more correct in this than the last 3 people in her eponymous lineage. Skeptical of her newly reincarnated family, but willing to give them a chance. Also, superb metallurgist/chemist/explosives expert.

Maltrinbor, Curufin's wife and Celebrimbor's mother, about as willing to forgive Curufin as Celebrimbor is but at a different angle. I still haven't decided whether I want her to be Noldorin (and died in the stormy sea-crossing, or in Dagor Bragollach after the slow eroding of her marriage?) or Teleri (and died at Alqualondë while trying to find her idiot husband and clearly-not-safe child, after walking away from them a decade ago?). Either way, she's a preeminent artist in glass and has been living near her parents near Aulë's mountain, focusing on craft all these millennia since her return, happy to be a mother but avoiding like spiders any royal politics (which Celebrimbor can never quite do.) SO disappointed in Curufin, for not being...better. In literally any way tbh. But especially for never stepping far enough out of his father's shadow to live up to his own potential.

Finrod in the role of frustratingly wise advice-giver, not least in the area of parenting because he's now had 7 children, and, when Curufin cracks and asks him for help, earnest confidant and supporter in this reconciliation. While also playing an extended game which he calls "social rehabilitation" and Curufin and Celegorm both call "publicly humiliating psychological torment." On top of everything else Curufin has to be grateful and/or apologetic to Finrod about, when Celebrimbor returned from Mandos, Finrod immediately took him under his wing and helped him fully recover from his trauma and comfortably re-settle into Valinorian society.

Veryawendë, Finrod's 4th daughter and Celebrimbor's best friend, artistic collaborator, and ally within the family. A superb jewel-smith and -sculptor who actually studied with Nerdanel in order to master form and sense of movement and life. Very ready to bodily kick unwanted parents or uncles out the door on his behalf.

Celegorm, Curufin's usual/former closest confidant, who is very sympathetic to Curufin's plight and of course he also wants to reconcile with his beloved nephew, but he's kind of focussed on reconciling with an entire Vala of the Hunt first so could you maybe stop ranting and help him, Curvo?

Nerdanel absolutely is involved in this, but I think she's trying - maybe by wrestling with herself - to stay out of it, and oblige her children and theirs to solve their own problems which they made.

And of course Fëanor, who comes out of Mandos regretting a great deal...but who is still too prideful to let himself be much diminished by this guilt, and so with all his vigor sets about trying to Fix What He Broke, which sometimes means the world's most undeniable earnest repentant apologies and sometimes means unthinkingly steamrolling everyone and everything in his path.

(Fëanor who never wanted his children to be consumed by his own fire - his own will, his own grief and rages - like kindling for the flame, but who probably didn't always communicate that in word or deed even before the Oath. Fëanor who, accustomed to Bonding Through Craft, tries to connect with his grandson by offering to teach him some techniques which have clearly been lost, and instead only sets off Celebrimbor's latent Annatar-related alarm bells. Fëanor who is overall struggling with many of the same things that Curufin is, and in most ways he's ahead [typical, natural, bitterly surprising] but in some ways he's behind [mind-boggling, earth-shaking, weirdly satisfying in an uncomfortably vengeful way.])

(Vs Curufin who is so angry at and so so so disappointed and betrayed by his father but who has never consciously, and rarely unconsciously, experienced those feelings in that direction before [while alive to remember it] and doesn't really know how to do so, much less how to express it [the answer is 'sobbing while shouting', at least at first]. He's pretty accustomed to feeling them toward himself, though, except he's also very accustomed to ignoring that and/or blaming other people for it and feeling like a victim instead. He never felt it toward his son, not truly; it was just easier for a few years toward the end to include Celebrimbor in the list of people he blamed - but only in his very darkest moments, and it always set off a vicious circle of feeling even worse.)

Oh yeah Finwë definitely needs to be involved in this whole tangle of generations of fatherhood as well. But I have no idea how he fits in, just that he's among the people who all need to be put into a giant hamster ball together and gently shaken until they're all a little healed.

Btw corrollary to the above "you have to be okay with your children doing things you neither plan nor approve of" is "you have to be okay with things you make being viewed and used in ways you neither planned nor approved of." It's not always your right (@Fëanor) and it's not always your responsibility (@Celebrimbor - he's mostly learned the lesson but it still hurts. The recent end of the Third Age brought back how it hurts).

Additional Supporting Cast:

Maedhros: running around playing catch-up on the 3D chess game of Noldorin and Eldarin politics and public perception. (Note: I'm ambivalent as to whether this fic has to take place in a Celechwes-inclusive timeline, but if it is, she gets pregnant shortly before Fëanor's return and that's very thematically relevant.)

Maglor: hasn't entirely recovered from 6,000 years of self-induced Song-filled isolation, has apparently sworn some sort of fealty to Earendil?? No help.

Caranthir: busy trailing after his wife like a repentant puppy until she decided to let him back into her heart. No help.

Ambarussa: one of them, probably Amrod, took up weaving while drifting between Mandos's Halls and Vairë's, and is continuing that apprenticeship while alive again, so they're spending a lot of time with the grandparents.

Mahtan, who is quite near the top of the list of people whom Curufin doesn't want to look in the eye.

The Silmaril which is right over there on the far edge of the continent, he can feel it sometimes...and that's okay. It's where it neds to be, it's in the care of a (distant) (barely counts) kinsman, and more important Maglor is keeping some sort of eye on it. So it's fine. There's nothing he can practically do anyway, not without restarting a war; and that's not an option anymore than charging Angband was.

Huan, best boy. Has also been looking after Celebrimbor since he returned to life, because he's the best uncle in this family.

A wide assortment of OCs, including people who died in Himlad, people who followed Curufin to Doriath and died there, people who followed him to Doriath and survived beyond that, people who stayed with Celebrimbor in Nargothrond, people who were in Eregion and died, people who were in Eregion and survived...

I really want the whole line of Curufinwës to make something together, like, the very first scene is Curufin approaching Celebrimbor not for the first time, but for like the third time and this time he's suggesting a long-term project of some sort, which would give them the opportunity to spend time together in an activity they both enjoy and (used to) both enjoy and are accustomed to doing together. Then that spans the whole story. Idk what it is, though - I do want them to make Maedhros a hand that shoots lasers like Iron Man's glove, but that's not what The Project should be.

CURUFIN HAS TO GET AN EPESSË IN THE END, ONE WHICH HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH FËANOR WHATSOEVER.

[toxycodone]

What is ur ideal dunmeshi polycule.. or your nightmare polycule, what is the worst combo of your fictional crushes that could all live in one big house together with you.

Oh God. I….okay.

Oxy’s Modern AU! Ship Lore. (Dungeon Meshi Edition)

It’s complicated. Me and Laios have the only semblance of a normal relationship (besides all the biting each other and puppy play shit.) On the outside you’d see us together a lot and be under the assumption that we are boyfriends maybe a little weird. But cute and harmless nonetheless.

Well then there’s Kabru. He’s there mainly for Laios at first (wants to understand his freak) and then comes across me and cannot decide if he wants to hate me or fuck me. Kabru gets constantly cockblocked because Laios always shuts him down and never assumes anything romantic (despite me encouraging Kabru to do it bc I’m okay w it). This leads to hate sex. Or something. We have a weird polycule type beat. Kabru has a constant migraine (but in the best way possible.) Labru canon.

Then we have Thistle. He makes it really clear he doesn’t like Laios or Kabru. But he VERY much so likes me (my whimsy but obvious self awareness has captivated him). Laios tries his damn hardest to get on Thistle’s good side. Kabru thinks this guy should eat shit, but tries to act polite. Kabru’s convinced Thistle is a one time hookup for me or something. Then starts gnawing at the bars of his enclosure the longer the dude sticks around. He’s really hoping I drop Thistle when he outgrows being a boy toy.

Lastly, Mr. Winged Lion/Demon comes into play. I’m hooked because usually I’m never down bad for anyone but I’m down sincerely for this guy. He’s kinda a creep. Thistle refuses to be in the same room as this man. For once, Laios doesn’t like someone. He and Thistle bond over this. Kabru is entranced because 1. This dude is a major freak and he wants to know his deal/how much of a threat he is to me 2. Cannot resist the case study here at play. Just why is Oxy so down bad? Especially for a man who barely graces it with attention? What is happening here? IS OXY WESRINF A FUCKINF CHASTITY BELT?

Anyways it goes like this:

Laios/Oxy: Established relationship. Almost normal boyfriends. Almost

Laios/Oxy/Kabru: The Big Three. Perfect Trio. There is banter. There’s autism. There’s everything. It’s perfect. Established relationship in a comfortable multi bedroom apartment/penthouse.

Oxy/Thistle + Labru: Thistle becomes a side piece but for some reason stays. Laios is okay with this. Kabru is not convinced to let this barely legal guy stay despite how much I preach about how he’s just a little meow meow wet cat. There is a slight begrudging agreement to allow Thistle to sleep in my office. It becomes his room. Awwww.

Oxy/Lion + Thistle + Labru: Messy. Obvious abuser has captivated me (I’m witnessing the horrors but I just do not get them.) There’s obvious history between Lion and Thistle and that just makes it worse because Thistle is like. Only 19. And Lion is probably in his mid to late 40s. I’m being manipulated out of my mind but my dick is so hard idc

Meanwhile Labru is deciding how they’re gonna free me from this prison. Thistle helps. Kabru and Thistle kinda stop hating each other and form a truce (however they never really get romantic. Thistle is an Oxy simp through and through.)

Anyways it’s crazy. It makes it even more difficult because Lion starts to paying rent for me (“as a gift”, but it’s just another means of control) and Labru, being two 20s losers (Laios is a retail worker and Kabru is a student) are weighing the pros and cons of being financially stable versus having their partner basically. Under some guys thumb.

Thistle isn’t paying rent but he should (literally comes from a rich fam). We make him cover groceries (he indulges in my need for fancy ice cream. He’s swiping Daddy Delgal’s card without even thinking).

[blackwaves]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

(tagged by @marichild tyyyy <3)

.

how many works do you have on ao3?

18 technically, but two are anon so the official count is 16.

what’s your total ao3 word count?

35k approximately!

what are your top five fics by kudos?

technically i have 2 very old redacted fics at the top (1 and 4 respectively) but striking them out to say: city haunts (link click): the shao yuanyuan fic i'm genuinely proud of and opened the minute i finished lc (i was possessed. sorry i love a middleaged deadbeat mom who is timelooping. god. thinks about her.) would you bite them (alnst): lukatill choking fic. closes my mouth and zips it up. play me something, i won't sing (alnst): mizihyuna fic!!! i'm so fond of it conceptually but i wrote it in a feverdream and want to write something better for them eventually. 20k bildungsroman of my dreams one day please please please. get underneath my skin (link click): faces down my flaws and mistakes. um. sometimes you trip and fall onto the dick of your partner's future murderer mid-timeloop. rarepair mess and sex you hate. let's not talk about it <3 part-time soulmate (bsd): meursault polycule fyozai dimension-hopping <3

what fandoms do you write for?

currently mostly bsd and link click— definitely want to write for more fandoms (and have some fics for others, clearly) but it depends on where the obsessions take me.

do you respond to comments? why or why not?

it depends on the day you catch me on!! i always appreciate them dearly, it just— depends on the day you catch me.

what’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

i think i tend towards open endings before i go for anything set-in-stone? so it depends.

what’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

as above, open endings before anything else <3

do you get hate on fics?

no <3 2 hits per fic privileges strikes once again.

do you write smut?

i USED to not. i spent a considerable amount of time Not. and then. stares down recent works. unfortunately i do think sometimes sex is fun and interesting in a throws-blorbos-into-a-blender way (and i appear to be horny pavloving myself into thinking [redacted] is hot but that's neither here nor there)

do you write crossovers?

no!! not necessarily opposed to doing so, though, it just hasn't occurred to me in a way that i think would be interesting for me to write? yet, at least.

have you ever had a fic stolen?

as far as i know, no. again, 2 hits per fic privileges.

have you ever had a fic translated?

no!!

have you ever cowritten a fic before?

are we counting absurd dnd fic that lives purely in google docs. i'm assuming a negative on that, so instead i will just say: technically no, but @marichild and i's lukatill fics (links: mine, mari's) were definitely very influenced by each other and by conversations in dms. the veinguang bad sex mess is also part of a larger au planned out with mari, but gestures vaguely i literally got possessed by. that fic. idk what happened there, i'm still possessed by it and it lives rentfree in my head where xia fei and cxs are being sulky puppies and lu guang is spiritually trying to kill himself.

what’s your all time favourite ship?

this time i am invoking ridiculous dnd fic because i (1) don't actually ship often in conventional ways (2) miss my dnd characters. i spent multiple years writing exclusively dnd fic in documents that got sent to like 3 people max and i miss it a lot sometimes. dynamics and characters of all time that exist properly only if you had the misfortune of knowing me in middleschool, you know? let's say it's tied between the nightmare death/resurrection mess of my first dnd pc (performative overdramatic nightmare love) and between the horrible aro rep of my favorite pc (bitey grief-stricken teenager of all time). both insanely influential to me as a person and i cut my teeth learning to write with them.

what’s the wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

hmmm. the kouyou gaiden fic i really want to pick back up; i'm so fond of it conceptually and so insane over it, i literally just assigned myself reading before i can finish it. kouyou ayatsuji frenemies agenda lives in my head, as does assistant director tsujimura and her relationship with this verse's kouyou.

what are your writing strengths?

i have no idea <3 i've been told my writing is very distinct and that i have a unique voice in prose, and i'm kind of proud of that, though idk if the voice in question is good? i'm fond of the way i write characters as messy in each other's direction, but idk if i am right to say i'm good at it.

what are your writing weaknesses?

character voice forever. in origfiction it's often plot, but for fic: character voice forever, i'm horrible at specifically dialogue that matches canon energy, even when i'm confident in my characterization choices outside that.

thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

i think mainly full sentences are risky unless you're sure what you're doing and have a reason behind it? on the other hand: honorifics are fun to me, and i think there's a specific easy, parceled-out conveyance of information/context to them that means i enjoy using them.

first fandom you wrote for?

um. fucking marvel. lokific on ffn.net. let's not think about it. fun fact i also wrote solangelo on ffn.net like a decade ago; it was horrible and cringe but <3

favourite fic you’ve ever written?

the f!fukuchi fic and its adjacent teruko fic!!! they're so important to me. i'm v picky about genderbends— i try to be critical of how they feed into various -isms + i'm often disappointed by them when found in the wild, but i have an undeniable fondness for them. i think the original conception for the fukuchi fic started with: bsd doesn't have either enough women over 26 nor enough women who are crazy about each other, so i think it would be effortless + fascinating + also justice to make fukuzawa and his paramours into middleaged lesbians and to change nothing else about them as characters. i was right for that but the fic itself is mostly-genfic about grief and also throwing characters at each other to be bitches about their mutual dead spouse <3 etc. equally importantly the teruko fic that stands mostly-alone is about mentormess. thinks about teruko forever.

tagging anyone who got this far etc <3

[non-neutoniangender]

So I finally got my life together enough to continue my C3 watch... I'm still at 33, I've made more progress on C1 recently. Finally the combination of finding Mini Metro and actually logging onto Tumblr on the web made the barrier of watching Those Episodes bearable.

Spoilers for ep 33 and minor vibe spoilers for episodes in the future that I'm not sure of but its all stuff I absorbed via osmosis and fandom.

It's been almost a full year since these episodes came out and I was mindlessly scrolling Tumblr during my 10am linguistics lecture and stumbled upon everyone panicking because of the lack of diamonds for the amount of people who died. Anyway.

The anxiety of not quite remembering exactly I learned happened is not doing me any favors, but good god, I can really only handle some of this stuff not watching live.

Anyway, here are some assorted thoughts:

Liam you really did not have to make me Feel Things about Orym and his husband while Orym is passing out.

Laudna what is that spell that adds hit dice, that is So Good

Good GOD Otohan is not pulling any punches.

.....this is so close to TPK wow.....

Matt hesitating before essentially killing his wife's character, but doing it anyway.....

It's really interesting to see so many of them up and huddled around the map, things are really getting heated, with Liam just living behind Ashley and Laura's chairs.

"I don't want to be the only one not dead" followed immediately by "soometiiimees you gotta cut a bitch" Yes Travis, that is the correct energy to bring to this clusterfuck.

:OOOOO Not the natural 20 to fucking save Laudna

Begging the DM for the extra hit point like its gonna matter lmao

"I should be more complete at my job" Good GOD

The sending stone 😢

And there's the first one

"We've met before" 😒😒

The sense of failure, the bitersweet feeling of seeing Will and Derrik again 😢😢

I hate it for them that they are getting important lore while they are on the verge of a TPK and loosing their characters

and yet they make jokes like "we can't afford that Sam" to careless whisper

"He is not a creature at the moment" :O omg. Ow. God that hurts.

I gotta say, I'm really enjoying seeing all these hail mary type moves.

You really only see the uber creative dumb shit Hail Mary calls when things are extremely dire.

I love how Beau's voice and mannerisms sneak out a lot as bits and jokes

And there's the second

"That was a helluva run" 😢

"Embrace it or be culled like the rest" oh my god

"That brings us straight to your initiative because everyone else ahead of you is dead" Oh my god Matt

If this actually tpk'd, this would probably be in the running for the longest, most painful tpk. Usually its all at once, rocks fall, everyone dies, the dragon breath attack....

Something about Travis repeating "do you fight it" to laura is so sweet to me.

Also Imogen is making such a wild decision mid potentially worst day of her life omg.

"Save your last line, you might still have a chance" Damn Matt you didn't have to be Like That

"I give in, and I fuck Chetney" "We all do at some point" 🤣

"Is she your favorite" and the immediate "I'll go with you, I give in" oh my god. Having seen that clip of Laura being like 'I didn't know Imogen was in love with Laudna' oh my god the pining is there.

Oh shit the whole city is turning red.

And THATS the end..................

I was gonna go to bed but........ Maybe I can afford to make 1 poor decision

I love the friendship, everyone congratulating each other and matt, no hard feelings. But I wonder how many people are rolling up characters just in case cuz oh my god.

[purplesurveys]

1898

Do you ever wonder how Atheist people raise their kids? I do. There's admittedly some envy in there somewhere lol, but it's mostly intrigue about what the dynamics at home must be like. I live in an overwhelmingly Christian population where every single aspect of life is influenced by religion; so considering I've identified myself as atheist in a place where it's virtually nonexistent, it's something I find myself thinking about once in a while.

If you’re atheist, would you raise you kids believing in God or not? Absolutely not. They can explore, ask questions, even pick a faith to go by if they want to; but I will not be the first one to tell them anything about gods.

How long does it usually take you to finish answering a survey? Usually anywhere from 40 minutes to one hour, depending on the length or how fast I can think of my answers.

Do you spell it gray or grey? Gray.

If you make surveys, how do you decide about its title? I don't make them. I'm terrible at coming up with questions.

When are you going back to school? I don't need to; I graduated four years ago.

If you don’t go to school anymore, what do you do? I work in public relations; agency side.

Do you care about other people’s status messages? Like on Facebook? Sure. It's always nice to know what people are up to, the new places they've been traveling to or the life goals they've been reaching. The only theme I don't particularly like encountering are warfreak posts? like when they still subtweet (idk the equivalent term on Facebook haha). Come on sis we're in our mid 20s.

Do you like reading self help books? No.

What is your opinion on sex change? Your body, your choice. Glad to see there's been more opportunities to let this happen for those who need it.

Do you think that this will take away the essence of gay pride? ...What?

What do you do when you tell a really bad joke? I let it eat me up anywhere between 3 to 7 days, lol.

If you’re still a virgin, how important is your virginity to you? Not much, it's never mattered to me. I gave it up when I was 18 and never thought twice about it before or after.

If you have lost it already, do you regret it? No.

Do you believe in marriage? Why or why not? I believe in it, I don't believe it's a life requirement.

Do you like having a huge group of friends or would you rather have few close friends? Few close friends. The older I get, the more I enjoy my own company. That said I only let very few people in my circle now.

Do you have any goals for this summer? If so, what are they? Summer's over, but I didn't set goals. I did travel abroad, which wasn't something I specifically set out to do but was still nice to have done.

Or do you plan on getting a summer job? Or do you already have one? I've had a job the last four years.

If so, where do you work and what do you do? I work in a PR agency, doing PR work for consumer brands. Some of them you definitely know about and consume; some of them more up-and-coming and aptly needing the help.

Do you watch the TV show Skins? If so, who’s your favorite character? Never watched it.

And which generation do you prefer? Or do you equally love both?

Do you know someone who still typpe thiszz wayy? No.

Would you take a break after graduating from high school (like, postpone going to college for a year or so)? I didn't do that. Where I'm from, a gap year is just for the super rich who have safety nets no matter what they do or pursue, so...ew. Most need to fight to live.

Do you feel tired after stretching? No, it feels nice.

Can you get a strike at bowling? Only on Wii Sports, haha.

Do you use Facebook? If so, what is your favorite application there? Yes, but apps stopped being trendy there yearsssss ago.

It seems like everyone’s addicted to Twitter these days - are you? I fucking hate Twitter. I keep it to stay updated and to read translations for all BTS releases, but I stay the fuck out of any conversation. Everyone's always dragging, cancelling, bullying, shaming, discriminating someone else these days on there.

[leastdatablebracket]

ROUND 3, MATCH 5

Propaganda under the cut!

Drake Walker

Propaganda

Jobless complainer with a codependent relationship with his best friend (Liam) who bitches about monarchy and nobility constantly, even though he benefits from staying at the royal castle for free. I think it might be mentioned once... in book 3 or the sequels that he actually does some work around the place... seems like something that the writers threw in to make Drake seem less like a useless freeloader. Rude as fuck for literal no reason, obsessed with being a man, he's chock full of toxic masculinity. Won't ice skate, hates the opera, won't drink wine or "girly" drinks, sees fancy food and I feel like he complains just for the hell of it. Just a general pill of a human to be around. Grown ass man (mid to late 20s) who hates the royal life so much, he can just leave! Get a job! Move out! He doesn't have to 24/7 be on call to emotionally support Liam! He can move into the city and call or visit his BFF whenever Liam is having a crisis or needs support or advice or whatever. Utterly ridiculous situation to have Drake there constantly hating on everything. Obsessed with manly stuff only like whiskey and eating BBQ or sloppy joes or some shit like that. Complained in the third book about a pink wedding cake (or decorations?), which caused Drake Walker stans to actually get angry (although he would literally do this, he 100% would bitch about pink) and the writers took out that line. I guess dissing on pink things was just Too Much finally for Drake Walker fans. You have to pay diamonds (the premium currency) to see the soft side of this RO, which is so hilarious to me... why would I ever pay diamonds to spend MORE time with this guy??? I don't need to see Drake's "soft for only one person" scenes, I need to punt him into the sun. Drake Walker fans used to be or still are insane so god help you if you put this horrible man in the bracket. Choices has really fallen though, they lost 90% of their tumblrinas when they introduced their subscription model, so you might avoid the DW discourse. 

His vibes are rancid 

The propaganda here is perfect, but to add a bit for Drake, at one point they rewrote some of the original game, and do you know how they tried to make Drake more likable? They made the main LI of the game, normally a sweetie, a jerk fuck boi. Like the only way the creators of Drake could think to make him more likable was to just make the other characters worse.

Vace

Propaganda

well you (the pollrunner) already know cause hes ur icon but i will say that at least he is meant to suck as a romantic partner with only one ending (two if you include astronaut) having him and sol (the player character) staying together on the other end tho there's three ways to start dating him one is to make him go to therapy n then start dating after he is no longer abusing his girlfriend (either breaking them up by convincing him to dump nemmie or convincing nemmie that hes the scumbag he is n she deserves better) another is to be his side piece and the third way is getting him so mad he drags sol off by the neck to beat the shit out of them with this event ending with either him n sol sleeping together (also causing him and nemmie to break up) sol getting the living daylights beat out of them (to the point they got knocked out n needed medical care) with the implicit threat of vace will do this again if they dont stay out of his way and sol avoiding both of those things but being so shaken by the experience that theyre struggling to breath until theyre outside and fully away from him which gives a very different undertone to hooking up with him in this event

[aarid]

bitching about the queer community a little from the perspective of a trans man based on the last thing i reblogged but

GOD that really is it isn’t it, that’s how goddamn isolating this community feels some days. on top of the movement to praise women (please keep doing this btw, we win together or not at all) wrapping around into actively double-standard-misgendering people (’girlies/girl help/etc’ being seen as gender-neutral and almost exclusively coming from...not men, but also those same people yell at you if “dude” or “bro” is gender-neutral in your personal lexicon) or just flat-out discouraging people from being positive toward men (this is TERF rhetoric please clear your mental cache every once in a while), we’re locked out from the solidarity we built up with women before we ever came out. we go from someone who Knows (tm) to The Enemy (tm) the moment we swap pronouns, and it’s heartbreaking. this is EXTREMELY prominent for older trans men. so many of us didn’t know for so long. i was 25. i’m 31 now. i’ve only spent 20% of my life knowing who i am and living as a man, and i was raised in a very queer-positive environment and was out to EVERYONE within a week of realizing i was trans. people who find out in their mid twenties or later have already had their literal entire childhood shaped by misogyny, especially those who were NOT raised in queer-friendly environments. and then we’re out, and we’re shoehorned in next to cis men that don’t accept us until we’re so transitioned we can be stealth, and are told there’s no way we understand what women go through, like i don’t still bleed, like i don’t have tits, like i wouldn’t fucking get it in the deepest center of my bones even if i were post-op because i lived it for a quarter of a fucking century. and this goes both goddamn ways. trans women are women and can still be misogynistic as FUCK because they were raised in the box that perpetuates that and society treated them differently growing up. stop with the "man-hating feminist” bullshit, stop with the “trans men can’t understand misogyny the way women understand it,” stop with the “trans women can’t be wrong about women’s struggles” shit. we are human beings. the parts we were born with may not value us one way or another intrinsically, but every one of us grew up in a societal norm that we have to unlearn and pick apart because of the circumstances of our birth. that’s part of the world we currently live in and until we DO pick it apart and learn to be better, it is not going to change. and be a little goddamn nicer to trans men, fuck’s sake.

[wlwhq]

hey all!! under the cut are some wanted plots for each of my muses, shoot me an im or like this if any of these are calling your name and id be happy to plot something out with ya! <3

(ps everyone's a sapphic below so give me all your sapphics plz)

soleil. late 20s. baker. jasm.in savoy brown fc. switch.

fwb where your muse is getting attached and soleil is being distantly distant as per usual

someone else in the baking/cooking/restaurant industry where they could work together??

mikayla. mid/late 20s. interior designer. saman.tha logan fc. top.

little sister's best friend ship for the angst of a secret relationship

rich well off milf for mick to work for in designing a new mansion

nora. mid 50s/early 60s. lawyer. julia lou.is dreyfus fc. top.

law student/maybe a law professor if we lean into the collegiate territory (insert crazy eyes here)

anywhere where she can be a sug.ar mommy please !!

mariana. late 30s. er doctor. americ.a ferrera fc. switch.

FELLOW DOCTORS/INTERNS/NURSES/PLZ.........

someone to help her lighten tf up

samantha. late 30s. defense attorney. sara.h snook fc. switch.

fellow older woman who can take her on a sexual Journey of discovery

another lawyer at her firm, so there can be Late Nights Working...

maggie. early 30s. dancer. ari.ana deb.ose fc. bottom.

i have a spider-woman verse pls dont let it go to waste...give me your super villains and your drastically angsty anti-heroes she will love them

also a verse with her as a backup dancer for a famous performer, touring together....it could get ga.y

rowan. early 30s. paramedic. er fi.ghtmaster fc. top.

older sibling's wife. imagine the side eyes emoji here

old ex from college that can't resist the Energy!! & hooking up

darcy. late 30s. restaurant owner. katie mc.grath fc. switch.

regular at her restaurant that's always trying to be flirty and darcy finally giving in

food blogger/food critic that's always hanging around or stopping by bc can't get enough of the food or of darce

violet. early/mid 30s. speech language pathologist. tat.iana mas.lany fc. switch.

bc vi works with a lot of kids, maybe give me your single moms??? please???

older friend of her dads who she thinks is hot pfft

georgia. late 30s. executive chef. nata.sia demetriou fc. switch.

another chef at her restaurant who she has a love/hate relationship with and refuses to give the time of day

former therapist who worked georgia through all of her shit a decade ago and now they're friends/casual??

destiny. early 30s. therapist. quin.ta bruns.on fc. bottom.

give her someone to simp over my god she's probably the softest out of my muses

grad school bestie that maybe they would occasionally hook up? and don't talk about it so they don't ruin the friendship?

syd. mid 20s. tattoo artist. kehla.ni fc. top.

tattoo clients/fwb!! she'll accept payment in head

someone they used to cam for regularly

cole. early 20s. barista. liv hewson fc. switch.

someone they look up to (professor, coworker, counselor) that understands the they/them experience

current girlfriend who goes on a cross-country road trip with them in a bid to get out of their small town and start Living

evie. mid 30s. florist. taylo.r swif.t fc. bottom.

acquantaince of her mom that she's seeing on the low low

someone who doesn't give a shit that she comes from money and doesn't care who she is (that would make her so !!!)

aurora. early 50s. tech ceo. hann.ah wadd.ingham fc. top.

i cannot stress enough how much of a sugar mom.my she is. please.

fellow mil.fs to form a mil.f alliance with

nadja. 500+. vampire badass. nat.asia deme.triou fc. switch. canon character from wwdits

LESBIAN VAMPIRE POLYCULE PLEASE!!!

also if any of y'all write as the guide i will cry

disclaimer that nadja is just a test muse of mine and i might be bad at her so PLZ

[uptillion]

FOR WRITING WIPS...very very curious about the House of Unbelievers and the Bodyswap Au!!

House of Unbelievers

Everybody lives in monastery (for a made up religion), each of them having come there either for running away from something, being forced to live there, following something, or perceived divine calling. The story follows Ashley, the new head scribe for this particular monastery, she thinks she's a charlatan amongst true believers, but through gradually getting to know everyone, she learns that none of them are truly devout.

Ashley (mid 30's)- Head scribe. Joined to avoid an arranged marrage she was not ready for

Emily (late 50's)- Head of the whole organization. She and Jess killed their husbands when they were younger and ran away to the monastery together, Emily naturally made her way up in leadership

Jess (Late 50's)- Emily's right hand. Through everything she always stayed by Emily's side

Josh (mid 30's)- "The Divine", considered to be blessed by the gods from the visions they have. Forced to join the monastery when they were young for perceived divinity

Chris (mid 30's)- Josh's personal scribe, helps transcribe Josh's visions and bullshit meaning from them since neither of them really know. When Josh was taken away to the monastery, Chris faked having a calling so he could follow them

Matt (mid 30's)- Main organizer for the school attached to the monastery. Was initially devout and believed in his calling, but has lost it over the years

Mike (early 20's)- "The Speaker", talks with common folk for worship. Fourth in line for the throne and knowing he has little likelyhood for reaching it, Mike joined the Monestary thinking he could become a leader there. He's gunning for Emily's position and they are constantly butting heads

Sam (mid 30's)- Hannah's handmaid, not actually a part of the monastery, but visits frequently for the hot springs. She eventually joins after [plot point spoiler]

This is very much written from the perspective of someone who has no religious upbringing lol

Bodyswap Au

This is one of my newest Aus and has consumed my thoughts for the past week.

Josh and Ashley end up swapping bodies, both of them are struggling with the differences, invasions of privacy, and having to deal with each others' mental illnesses. They struggle to act like each other so the rest of the group doesn't notice while desperately trying to find out how to switch back.

Everyone immediately picks up on them hanging out with each other more and pesters them about it a bunch. Beth and Hannah are convinced Josh has a crush on Ashley 'cause Ashley is so bad at deflecting their questions as Josh. Chris is very curious about them both acting weird at the same time, but can't figure out what's wrong.

Rough draft Snippet of Josh teaching Ashley how to shave her face:

Ash keeps shaving around lips, being painfully slow and careful, she nicks herself again when trying to go over a hair she missed Ash: Crap [she grabs the wash cloth] this is so much harder than I thought Josh: Is it that much different than shaving your legs or other parts of your body? Ash: I don't shave, dude Josh: Really? Ash: I mean, I learned when I was in middle school but I hate the itchy feeling you get a couple days after, and I kept cutting myself near like, the ankles so it really just wasn't worth the effort for me and I stopped. Josh pulls up pajama pant leg and rubs his hand over the hairy leg, Ash focusing on shave again Josh: Oh, yeah, I guess hairy legs is a familiar sensation so I didn't notice. Ash: Pro of having light body hair is that you don't have to worry about people noticing that you haven't shaved Ash dabs at face before wiping razer again Ash: Con of having light body hair is that my eyelashes are practically invisible unless I put something on them. Ash leans closer to mirror and starts shaving again, trying to be careful Josh turns and looks at the mirror too, pulling at eye Josh: Yeah, I've noticed that now that I'm staring at your face up close all the time Ash: At least my eyebrows are somewhat dark, my mom has to draw in her eyebrows 'cause they're so blond they're transparent. They go quiet as Ash keeps shaving, Josh looking over face one more time Josh: Your bush is dark too. Ashley shocked: JOSH! [twists her head quickly and gets big cut on face] OW! Fuck! Josh, holding back a smile as he laughs: Shit, sorry.

[olderjodijournals]

Monday, May 1, 2000

I forgot to write about Sunday’s sex. It was predictable in the sense that I knew he wouldn’t cum, but it was otherwise not very predictable. I decided at the last minute to have him go down on me and he not only did, but I got off. It seemed to take forever, though. I thought that because he went down on me he’d bail out of screwing cuz he never really liked doing more than one thing per session, but we screwed afterward. He went faster this time as if he had more strength and energy from working out. He was either putting on a good show or else he really was just out of shape. I think it was always a combination of him being unfit as well as scared.

He knows that I got my period at the end of last month. It wasn’t possible to hide it from him when he saw he had blood on his dick that could only have come from me. So, that means he’s gonna chicken out on me and want to play games around the 10th of this month. Like I could really get pregnant even if he did cum? Yeah, right! Anyway, I’ll probably avoid him myself at that time cuz I won’t be in the mood to play games of any kind and have him conveniently “forget” how to get inside or something like that. As long as he can’t admit his fears on his own, then I’m gonna have to be the responsible one here. I don’t want him put in a position that makes him uncomfortable and I know that although I know I’m sterile and he hates having sex, as cumless as it is, when I’m mid-cycle.

Wednesday, May 3, 2000

I don’t believe this. I just don’t believe this! Smokey’s dead. Yesterday evening, just like with Scuttles, he was totally out of it, barely moving, eating or drinking. Then when I got up at 9:00 today, he was gone.

Why are so many of my animals dying lately? Depending on how long Fudgie lives, I may wonder about this store. I got a rat from them that only lived five months, and now a rat that didn’t even live one month. Or maybe it’s a punishment. Meaning, just like I wondered if Scuttle’s death was because of what I did to the Bear, I wonder if Smokey’s death is because I got sick of Butter Rum being such a bully and bopped her upside the head with a nibble stick. I’m just grateful I didn’t get that attached to him so I don’t have to be miserable all over again so soon after I was miserable over losing Scuttles.

I’m really seriously considering quitting singing, although I’ll miss it terribly. I’m just so sick of having to cough and clear my throat just like I did when I smoked. It really takes the fun out of it. Do you know how humiliating that is, having worked so hard for so little?! No, God does not help those who help themselves. It’s even more of a bummer knowing that my lungs will never get better either, even though I’m gonna be stupid and schedule a doctor’s appointment that I know will be a complete waste of time, gas and money. I’m still convinced there’s nothing they can give me that’ll help me. They’ll either give me something that won’t do a damn bit of good (or it’ll at least seem like it’s gonna help at first, then I’ll be like I usually am - tight or congested), or it’ll have bad side effects like that Aerobid did. And as I’ve learned in life - there’s no such thing as “solving a problem.” At least not for me there isn’t. For me, all I can do is trade one problem in for another, so even if I could get something to help my lungs, all I’d be asking for was a brand-new problem to have to deal with year after year. All God gave me for my efforts at quitting smoking was 20 pounds I could never get rid of, and that’s another depressing thing right there.

I’ve pretty much peaked as far as the weight and inches go. After that initial tightening I felt, that’s as far as it’s obviously going to go. I’m never going to have that muscular look I’d like to have. Part of that is because I can’t seem to burn the fat. All I can do is build a little muscle underneath the fat like I did. Also, 123 pounds is as low as I can go from what it looks like, and I can’t lose any more than the inch or so I’ve lost from a couple of select areas. Not unless I start working out for a few hours a day and put myself through lots of starvation. All of which I don’t have the willpower for.

On the bright side - as long as I keep rowing every day and working out a few times a week, I should be able to maintain my weight and inches and keep from ever going above 125 pounds. I’ll also be a little firmer and not feel as energyless or too non-active.

Anyway, I’m not surprised at the results. I mean, I got just what I expected to get - just a few pounds lighter, and an inch smaller, and slightly firmer. I expected to feel the results much more than see them. Especially in my arms and legs. They look just like they always did, but they feel a bit firmer.

I finally got Tom to start working on Jade yesterday, but not without starting to work on her myself. I just get so sick of him saying he’s gonna do things that he doesn’t do. I know he’ll never clean up the property when it gets hot, either. Tom, why do you lie to me so?

Anyway, firming up Jade’s been much quicker and easier than I thought it would be. This is mostly because we cut the body at the sides, arms and legs so we could pack the stuffing in easier. All bodies should come with zippers to these areas if you ask me. Trying to stuff batting down into the legs from the neck is nearly impossible. He got the arms stuffed and stitched up, and part of the body and where the knees are. He’ll work up the legs and down the body till he meets at the sides where her hips are, then we’ll stitch the sides up and take in an inch or so of material at the sides to make it better proportioned. I’m still certain that this body was sewn all wrong. It’s totally disproportionate in the hips. Also, the whole body seems too long for a 32” doll. I really think they gave me a 34” or 36” body. A disproportionate 34” or 36” body.

Later...

Quitting singing is easier said than done. I could never quit. It’s just so much a part of me as my arms and legs are. I’ll just have to sing when my lungs/nose will allow it.

Carol Kane was in a 1984 movie earlier. She only had a little part and looked like a geek. She got better looking with age if you ask me. Well, I’ll be checking out other movies on the 5th, 8th, and 14th of this month. I can’t wait for Office Killer and When a Stranger Calls Back to run again!

TV shows and movies still seem to be riddled with childbirth and I still don’t know what the obsession’s all about.

Thursday, May 4, 2000

Wow! I lost a pound. I weigh 122, but the question is - will I ever drop below 120 and stay there? Cuz trying to stay between 110-115 in early 98 to early 99 was a nightmare. Of course, I didn’t have the Bowflex then, either. Well, we’ll see in time where my weight goes, but wherever it goes, it goes. There’s not much I can do about it.

Cybertrails’ service has been absolutely horrid. They’re just like how AOL was for a while where I either can’t get online or when I do, pages won’t load and I get knocked off. Tom says to expect lousy service in a rural area and to just take what I can get from them. Yeah, but it’s never been this bad. This is terrible. It fucking figures, too. Just when I find something I want to do online regularly, I can’t get on. I discovered Carol Kane items being auctioned on eBay that are constantly changing. The web pages, though, stay the same for months, even years, at a time.

Yesterday, I got another garden/floral magazine from Evelyn. I guess Miss Opinionated really likes me. Anyway, there’s nothing I really care about in the magazine, but Tom’s interested in some of their ads. There were also a couple of packets of flower seeds, which we weren’t supposed to get even though they gave them to us. Mary was going to plant them. We offered to give them back, but she said not to bother. Besides, she’s only got so much room for them. Even so, we should never have gotten them because we just can’t grow things here. The animals eat and destroy them. Rabbits, birds, lizards, and probably Gophie too, are eating the seeds and chewing off whatever does start to grow. Tom said we can try planting them indoors till they take off, then put them outside, but I still think they’ll destroy them.

Saturday, May 6, 2000

I finished my story Burned Soul yesterday! Now I’m proofreading it, then Tom’s going to do the same, before sending it off to publishers so it can get rejected. Although it’s easy to say that God won’t allow me to make any money by writing because he’s never allowed me to do things I’ve wanted to do in the past, I also don’t want to be a writer nearly as bad as I once wanted a kid and to be a singer. That still isn’t necessarily a point in my favor, though, since most people rarely get the first thing they submit published, anyway. You usually have to write lots of stories or articles before someone publishes something you’ve written.

Yesterday I woke up at 121 pounds and was still able to shit. I’m back to 122 now. There’s not much of a difference since I began working out four weeks ago, although yes, I am firmer, and yes, I am smaller. But barely. And in some cases, it doesn’t last long. My thighs went down an inch for five minutes, then they were all bloated out again to the usual 23” they are. My chest dropped to 36, my waist is 29½, and my hips are 37.

I can’t be certain, but I might’ve seen a snake sticking out of Gophie’s hole the other day. That may explain why she’s now living in a hole at the other end of the house and why there’s been less lizard activity around.

Today we saw a cute little gray baby jackrabbit sitting out front in the middle of the wash. Tom filmed it, along with Fudgie and Ratsy playing.

This is going to come as a shocker, but I love Fudgie way more than I did Scuttles. He’s a super cool, fun, loving little guy. He’s less of an explorer when I have him out. Instead, he loves to sit and cuddle with me. I lay on the floor and he hides under my neck. Then periodically, he walks a few feet away, then turns around and runs back to hide under my neck. He also climbs on top of me at times, too. He’s a lot mellower than Scuttles was. He’s about as mellow as Mickey was, and he’s not a biter, either. He doesn’t nibble on my toes and fingers like Ratsy loves to.

Although Tom did do a little more work on Jade and play some computer games, he’s spent the whole day in front of the TV, showing no interest in sex. God, he is so unmanly in that way! Again, that’s OK with me. I’m as drained of an appetite as I have been for the last few years now, and when I do get up the urge, I just want to take care of myself, quickly and efficiently. It’s easier to do something yourself than to have to direct someone to go higher, go lower, softer, harder, etc.

Sunday, May 7, 2000

Jade’s finally done and standing against the wall in my office! Tom stuffed her real good so she’s really rigid. Although she’s a beautiful doll, her head seems a bit big for her 32” body. Her feet and hands are the same sizes as Bailey’s who’s 24”, and her head’s the same size as Ciara’s who’s 38”. She’s wearing Bailey’s sleeper and Bailey’s wearing a dress that came with a big teddy bear of mine. It doesn’t look as good on her, but someday I’ll get new outfits for both Bailey and Jade. 32” dolls are a good size. You can see them well enough without having to walk right up to them, and there’s a lot more wall space to lean them against in here than there is furniture to put them on.

The sex we had at the end of his day, as usual, was very predictable. He was in and out of me in no time at all. It was very obvious that he didn’t want to cum. Especially with how hard he was.

Afterward, I started to get both bummed out and pissed knowing that if I did decide to have Invitro someday I’d have to use someone else’s sperm. Or so I thought. Tom told me something that really made my day. You see, I was always under the impression that a guy had to give sperm right there in the office in a cup just like you do with urine, but that’s not so. He said you can do it at home on your own time, as long as you keep it warm and don’t wait longer than a few days. I didn’t know this, but that’s great! It makes perfect sense too, now that I think about it. Now I can have an easier time letting him be himself and not feel so controlled and manipulated by him like he’s cheating me out of options. It’s nice to know, though, even though I doubt I’ll ever do the invitro, that I have more choices than I thought I did and that I don’t necessarily have to use someone else’s sperm unless his is dead. I don’t have the choices most women do since they can get pregnant for free the natural way, but at least I have more choices than I thought I did, and yes, Tom you can feel very free to be yourself and not cum!

Before he enlightened me on how he’d give his sperm, he said he felt I was controlling him and that he thought I said I wanted him to be him. To me, this is saying he’s admitting he wants to be the way he is and he doesn’t want to be made to feel like he has to change. This is fine, now that I know what I know, but I still don’t get why he’s so determined not to cum when it’s already been established that I can’t conceive naturally, anyway.

Anyway, I’m just so glad to learn what I’ve learned. That still doesn’t mean that I’ll ever want to have Invitro, or that he’d still cooperate and give his sperm, or that God would allow me to have a kid no matter whose sperm it was, but it makes me feel a lot better. Also, every negative has its positive - Tom’s not cumming keeps the sheets nice and dry, and we’ll never need birth control or tubes tied, or vasectomies.

He told me something else, to use as an example, that made no sense to me. He said he didn’t like not sleeping together, but that he just accepts it because he doesn’t want to control me or complain. I get the not liking it part, and I too, wish we could sleep together like any other normal couple, but as I told him, he’s not controlling me or complaining by asking that we try to sleep together at times. As long as he doesn’t make demands, he’s not controlling me. I want him to ask me things because I want to know if there’s ever anything I can do to please him because I love him, so I suggested we try sleeping together on weekends. I said we won’t say that we have to sleep together every night, just try to on weekends. Meanwhile, there’s no control involved. If one of us decides we don’t want to do it, we don’t do it. Period.

No music this weekend. Just the faint beat of a car stereo cruising by somewhere around here for ten seconds last night.

I don’t understand my mice’s behavior. Since when do females and males fight? And since when do mice that have lived together before fight? The mice that lived together in the store that were bought together fight. Out of the five mice I got, three of them are tame, one’s sort of a bully, and one’s a big-time bully. As for the three I had before - Freddie’s tame, Oreo’s sort of a bully, and Butter Rum’s a major bully like Toughie.

Monday, May 8, 2000

I set Jade up so she’s standing, leaning against the wall, holding one of the musical dolls. It looks really cool, and Tom thought so, too. I still like to have her hold one of the little teddy bears I got at Game Works, too.

Tom says I don’t look watery or bigger, and that’s what I thought, too. Then why did I gain my weight back? I’ll never be thin. I’ll just never ever be thin. My thin days are long over like I’ve been saying. I’ll always be in the 120s. Period.

I gave Tom a good scare today without even knowing it. He said that on his way home he saw an ambulance turn onto Bitter Root and immediately thought they were headed here. Anyway, it turned out to be going to the house across from Dan’s. Two houses away. The equivalent of twenty houses away in the city.

He brought home a picture that Dennis left him which the selfish opportunist himself took. It was of us standing by the trailer. It wasn’t close up, but even so, you could see my pudgy legs, fat face, and rounded-out arms.

I’m taping another Carol Kane movie right now I haven’t seen yet. This one’s a 1999 movie, and as I said before, I think she got better looking with age. Especially in the face, although I do have a picture of her from the 70s that looks great. I saw her in a 1990 movie the other day and her face didn’t look as good as it did in Office Killer, but her hair sure looked better. It was long, curly, and down to just below her waist. I don’t know if it was all hers or if some of it was hair extensions of any kind.

I had a very strange dream last night about a teacher I had in 5th grade named Joan B. I was about eight the first time I saw her, and in a way, she was my first crush. She was like Norah was at the Harley where no one else liked her or would consider her attractive except for me. She was a toughie, though. All the kids hated her for being so mean and so strict. I would’ve too, if I hadn’t found her attractive. She may have been a bit on the plump side and had brown eyes and long brown hair. She always kept her hair up and I remember how I’d wonder how long it was and what it’d look like down. I remember I looked her up in the phonebook and called her a few times, which she was not happy with. She bitched to my parents about it. She certainly wouldn’t have come out and said so, at least not to me, but I know she had to have despised me. I could just tell.

Anyway, I haven’t seen her in about 25 years and haven’t thought of her in ages. Then last night I had a dream that she was reaching out to me as I was running by her. I woke up with the feeling that she was saying goodbye from the other side. At first I wondered why she’d bother with me, but I had to have stood out in her mind. Any teacher who ever dealt with a loud-mouthed, attention-getting bully like I was could never forget me. I always stood out, and although it wasn’t usually in a good way, I had to have made a lasting impression on her.

If I’ve got my facts straight - she has one son. Her son and her husband’s first name was Richard. Joan lived in Agawam for as long as I could remember. Many years. Anyway, I went online to see if I could find obituaries, but couldn’t. So I looked in the directory and found a Richard B living at a different address in Agawam. Is it the son? The husband? Is Joan really dead? She had to have been in her late 30s to early 40s when I knew her, which means she’s probably around 65-75 years old today. She could be dead, but so could anyone you haven’t seen for 25 years. I told Tom I wanted to call the Richard Bowe I found listed and see if I could find out, but he advised me to wait a month or two. He reminded me of my accuracy rate within the world of the paranormal and said that now wouldn’t be a good time to go calling and asking for someone if they just died. That’s what I’ll do, but I can’t wait to find out if she’s dead or alive in a month. Or at least try to.

Tuesday, May 9, 2000

Carol looked absolutely terrible in last night’s movie. Just as bad as she did in most of Office Killer. She didn’t look better in that movie till the end when she took her glasses off and let her hair down. In this movie, they had her dressed as a conservative, even geeky school principal with her hair up and thick-rimmed glasses.

Tom said we’d go out today, but then he said we’d go out tomorrow instead so he could milk the gas tank. Just another one of his many delays/procrastination. He felt bad, though, and insisted we could go out today if I really wanted to, but nah, we can wait one more day. Instead, we’re gonna make Bailey a new outfit! At least, we’re gonna try to.

Wednesday, May 10, 2000

Dan’s still here. I see lights on at night and I saw him driving off his property earlier.

We’re going out to Circle K (wish Jennifer still worked there) and to Dairy Queen when he gets in later on.

I figured out what Tom’s doing. At least I’m virtually certain of his motives. You’d think that anyone would be like - what’s he got to lose by cumming when he knows she can’t conceive naturally anyway, so he doesn’t have to worry about having a kid too soon after moving, or whatever, but he doesn’t know I can’t conceive. He may suspect it, but like I always said, he’s not as thoroughly convinced as I am. So after I thought about it for a while, I realized he’s counting on the odds. That’s what he’s doing. He’s decided to himself - I’m not going to cum in case she really can conceive cuz I don’t want a kid. Meanwhile, I’ll count on the odds of her not bothering to have the invitro either, and assume that if I don’t cum and if she doesn’t have the invitro, I won’t ever have to worry about a baby. I still don’t understand why he feels he has to go to such extremes, but like he said, he doesn’t want me to complain and he doesn’t want to feel controlled. He wants to be him. No problem. No problem at all. If I wanted a kid and felt I could conceive, that’d be different. Meanwhile, he’s perfectly welcome to do as he pleases and not cum. I don’t know how he can stand it after getting hard and excited, but obviously he can. He’s been doing it for years and I wasn’t kidding myself when I told myself he was perfectly content to be the way he is and that that’s what he wants. If he didn’t, he’d do something about it, and I don’t believe he needs a doctor to do it for him, either. No doctor can tell him to cum when he gets excited like we know he can/does. Only he can do that, but only when and if he wants to.

Meanwhile, how do I feel? Well, knowing I can’t conceive and that I don’t want a child these days has me OK with how he chooses to be. I’m sorry, but cum is a real pain in the ass. It makes quite a mess. Not only does it mess up the sheets, but it also makes a mess of me, too. I can’t just wash it out of my pussy. I have to put on a liner and let it slowly seep out. How do women with guys who are normal sexually stand it? Most guys don’t just cum, they want to screw/cum just about every day.

Later...

Today turned out to be an exciting day. No, we didn’t go out cuz Tom had a meeting at work and he didn’t get in till 7:30. He would’ve taken me out if I’d insisted, but I didn’t want to. He usually goes to bed at 8:00 and I knew it could be close to 10:00 before we returned if we went out. So, we agreed we’d go out tomorrow and even to the store that has the skater Barbie I want, along with the other stores, but who knows? I get the feeling something doesn’t want me going out this week.

It’s a good thing I wasn’t out at 4:00 today. Gophie hasn’t been using the hole in front that’s about a dozen or so feet away from the house. Instead, she’s been using the hole in the bush further back where the iguanas are. This is where I first saw her, too. Anyway, there were a couple of times I could’ve sworn I saw the tip of a snake sticking out of the hole by the house, but couldn’t be sure. Today, though, proved my theory to be correct about why she hasn’t been using that hole. It sure as hell was a snake! I saw it come up out of the hole while I was working out and this sucker was at least 6’ long! Only 1”-1½” wide, though. It lay sprawled in the middle of the wash and I ran out and got about 8-10 feet up to it and took its picture. I also took one from inside too, to show how close to the house it was. I lost it at one point, but I warned Tom to look out for it when he called to ask if I wanted anything else at the store cuz it might’ve headed down towards where he parks.

I showed Tom the pictures I took of it when he got home, but neither of us is sure if it’s any type of rattlesnake (he’ll investigate online). It didn’t have those diamond markings. It was a grayish-black color with no particular markings, and I don’t remember seeing the rattle at the end of its tail. The tail seemed to get skinnier and skinnier till it tapered off almost as skinny as the tip of a rat’s tail.

Anyway, I guess I’m getting to be quite the wildlife photographer! We’ve got pictures of iguanas, snakes, prairie dogs, and a scorpion, although he took that shot. I need a picture of a jackrabbit and a roadrunner if they’ll stay still long enough. I’d even like a tarantula. Just think of all the people who would think I was absolutely crazy, having rats and mice indoors and snakes just outside my house! Dureen’s gonna cringe when she sees what I live with. Dureen, Tammy and Andy could never stand it out here. Andy would not only hate the long drive to work (when he happened to have a job), and not being able to get to a gay bar in ten minutes or so, but he’d be terrified to be alone out here, whether or not he had a phone and a car. He’d be terrified of homicidal maniacs coming to get him and of the desert creatures out here.

I love this house, living here, not knowing what I’ll see when I look out the window.

As for my animals - yes, this store’s definitely up to something. As Tom suggested, they could be inbreeding too much which will cause early death and sterility. The five mice I just bought are definitely females, which were definitely in with males, which should definitely be pregnant and showing it, but they’re not. This has me really worried about Fudgie and wondering how long he’ll live. I love this rat more than any other pet I’ve ever had in my entire life and it’d be a shame to lose him so soon. He’s so cute, loving, and fun to play with. I lay down on the den floor and he walks a few feet away, then Tom moves and scares him and he comes running back to hide under my neck. He climbs on top of me too, and stands straight up and peers around the room.

In other news, my hair, which was an inch shy of my waist, got cut to about a couple of inches below my shoulders. I’m just sick to death of long hair! Sick of the snarls and having to always braid it to keep it from getting overly knotted. It’d take forever to dry, and I’d have to braid it just to go to bed. If my hair was thin and straight, then yes, I’d let it grow and grow forever, but I just couldn’t deal with it anymore and ran out of patience for it. As I said, I left a little length so I could keep my femininity and gather it into a ponytail to get it off my neck when going out on hot days.

Both of us are pretty proud of what we ended up doing yesterday evening. We each made, from scratch, without any pattern, a dress for Bailey. The one Tom made was just a practice one using this ugly Indian-print pattern that his ma gave me, and the final version, which I traced, cut and sewed, has splotches of lavender, pink, and light blue on a white background. In the end, I sewed a piece of lace around the neck and boy does she look better than ever! It’s short too, so her legs show from the knees down like I always wanted them to cuz she even has such realistic knees, as well as feet. Her body bag has lace trim at the legs, which sticks out a bit under the dress just above the knees and it goes well with the lace up top, making it really look just like a little girl’s dress, rather than a nightgown or a long shirt.

We called to brag to Mary about it and to tell her about the snake. Not surprisingly, she said she’d never have gone outside and a handful of feet away from it.

Tom also told her to think about timing hers and Dave’s vacation with his, so they could go somewhere while Ma was here since we have no desire to go anywhere even if we could afford to. We’ve had enough hotels to last us a lifetime. Of course, Tom doesn’t have to have vacation time while she’s here, but if he did, she could spend more time with him, someone she knows, rather than with me most of the time.

Friday, May 12, 2000

Here we go with the early spotting again. Sometimes I spot a week or two before my period. Why does there have to be such a big deal leading up to my period? Why does it have to start so slowly and be such a long drawn-out process most of the time? Why can’t I just get my period when it’s due? Better yet, why can’t I just have a hysterectomy? I can’t imagine my ever wanting Invitro bad enough. I’m content with life the way it is. We may not have the money we wish we had, but life is good, so why go and change a good thing? Besides, I thought of another way Tom could get his way with it. He’s smart enough to find a way to kill his sperm and have it appear dead when he brought it to the doctor, not that that couldn’t be the case for real. Like I said, a man who can get hard but won’t cum is the way he is for a reason. Not wanting a kid is the only thing I could ever think of. He sure as hell ain’t got no disease he’s trying to protect me from, so what else could it be? All I know is that whether or not I decide I want a kid again in the future, I’ll never have one because God will forbid it and Tom won’t allow it. He’s been manipulating and conning me out of it since day one, save for the few times he came around prime time.

Yesterday we went out to Walgreens and I got that skater Barbie I’ve had my eye on for nearly a year now. She wears a nice outfit with a top, skirt, and stockings mostly in blue. The skirt has a layer of purple trim and one of pink. Her skates are blue too, and there are feathers on her shoulders. She has a USA Olympic gold medal around her neck. She’s perfect for the Barbie stand that came with the Peruvian doll. Regular Barbie feet can’t quite touch the bass of the stand, but one with skates on can. There’s this thing on her back that you wind up to make her spin at the waist that doesn’t work, cuz you know I have to get the broken one. That’s fine, though, because I didn’t buy her to play with her and spin her around. I bought her to decorate with.

I got a couple of doll poster ads from Ashton-Drake. They take notice of what you like/buy. Since I bought Indians and ballerinas, they sent me a poster of an Indian girl and of a baby ballerina which I put on my office wall. My office looks more like a giant dollhouse rather than an office.

I almost broke down and made a doctor’s appointment, but decided against it. I’ve been a little better lately and I still don’t see how they could help me. I just hope it never comes down to where I need medication, for any reason, that my life absolutely depends on because doctors just can’t be depended on. They’re too incompetent and unreliable these days.

I see Gophie out there. It’s nice to know that the snake never got her! In fact, maybe the snake moved on, cuz she’s by its hole right now.

Later...

Oh, my God! We just might be having two houses on our land!! Evelyn’s planning on moving to an apartment in Phoenix because her trailer park is getting bad (I can just imagine!) and she told Tom that if we wanted her trailer, she’d just give it to us. Just give it to us! How great that would be! It’d be the perfect storage/workshop for Tom since we don’t need a guest house. The house is about 40’ long and 20-30 years old. It’s a two-bedroom/one-bath. It only has a living room besides that. No dens or retreats. Tom said he doesn’t remember what color it is, but either way, I’d like to paint it peach. We’ll have to pay a few hundred bucks or so to haul it out here and we’ll have to get permits for it, but it’ll be well worth it. We have different options as far as electricity goes. We have the generator we could use, or we could also use a windmill since it’s windy here most of the time. We have a 2 horsepower well pump that can pump 3 gallons of water per minute, so that’s where its water will come from if we decide to plumb it, and we probably will. It’ll probably go in the back, either just in front or just beyond the second wash, because we’re reserving the land at the master bedroom side of the house for the Arizona room/pool, and the back of the land for horses. Tom again mentioned wanting to get a mare to breed thoroughbred racehorses, and a couple of geldings (castrated males) to use for riding.

We did some research and according to what we could find out, that snake is not a rattlesnake. I didn’t think it was. I never saw any rattles on it and my vibes told me it was harmless. There are two possibilities as to what it could be, and both are anti-venomous. It could be either a coachwhip snake or a king snake. Actually, from what we read, a king snake would be a good thing to have around cuz they eat rattlers.

Saturday, May 13, 2000

Oh, these fucking goddamn, motherfucking allergies! They just never quit! I never had anything like this back east. Why is it that I always must trade one problem in for another? Why can’t I ever just solve a problem and let it end there? Ever since I stopped wheezing so bad since quitting smoking, my allergies have been a nightmare. I traded in my smoking addiction for a weight problem. Everything in life for me is a tradeoff. I have to be given a problem in order to get rid of one, and I have to be cursed in order to be blessed. Take Evelyn’s house, for example. You think God’s just gonna let her give us that house without making us pay in some way? Ha! We’ll have hell to go through just to get it and sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it, but we really could use the storage and workspace, so if we have to fight for it, we’ll put up our fists and fight.

My allergies got particularly bad when I first got the mice and I wondered if I should just let the ones I have die off and not get more, and if their sterility wasn’t a good thing after all, but Tom said he doesn’t think it’s the mice. He says that if it was, I’d have this every day. Yeah, but will I? It used to be that I’d take a Benadryl, crash for a couple of hours or so, then wake up fine. But now the allergy attack that used to last hours is lasting for days, so what’s to say I won’t end up with this shit every day where I can’t sit and do something for more than five minutes because I have to jump up and blow my runny, sneezy nose? This has been going on now for about 25 hours. I can’t even go a week or two without this shit.

Even though I’m sure I’ll still have this shit every week or two, I condensed the mice’s living quarters. Instead of having 5 or 6 houses set up with a zillion tubes, I’ve got Butter Rum and Oreo in a little cage with just one tube and hideaway, and the others in the big tank with just wheels, their crinkle paper box, and a few tubes.

Having allergies wasn’t the only thing to cause me to wake up on the wrong side of the bed, either. Tom said he screwed up and couldn’t get the groceries early this morning as planned. At first I thought he was saying that he bounced a check, but what he really did was assume that a certain company wouldn’t cash their check till Monday, which is payday anyway. But they did cash the check, so he sold a coin of his for $95 and bought groceries with that. I know he wanted to sell that coin anyway as he said, but all I could think about, once again, was ripping the shit out of Steven and Dan. It’s their fault that we’re in this situation. When are we ever gonna be free of these assholes’ fuck-ups?! They’ve been out of our lives for months now yet they’re still controlling us!

Anyway, I was pissed off cuz I thought our other weekend plans were shot. I said to Tom - so there goes the evening out of my hair, the putting up the flag outside, any sewing we may want to do, and the boring, predictable sex I know would’ve happened tomorrow at the end of your day. I explained that last one by pointing out that while he claims to want spontaneity, I not only know what’s going to happen in bed but lately, I know when it’s going to happen, too. Sunday, late afternoon or early evening, when he’s more tired so he can have an easier time holding back. Anyway, he said we could screw right then, so we did and I only had to know what was going to happen. I could tell it was a struggle for him. He had a hard time holding back, but he managed.

Week five and things are going just as predicted. My weight still bounces between 122-125 pounds, my thighs still bounce between 22-23, my waist still bounces between 29-30, and my tits and hips still bounce between 36-37. It’ll never change. Not without lots of starvation and many hours a day of working out. Neither of which is going to happen because I just don’t have the willpower to do it. Tom, though, insists that little by little it’ll work its way off and areas that haven’t gone down yet will go down in time. Ha! Not a chance. Yes, I went down a little in the lower back, the backs of my thighs, and my upper abs, which is nice, but what about the worst areas, such as my inner thighs, hips, and lower abs? And what about my face, neck, and arms? It’s hopeless. Totally hopeless, just like I’ve been saying week after week. Even if I could weigh 100-110 pounds tomorrow, I’d just have a whole new battle to fight. Maintaining lost weight is almost as hard for me to do as it is to lose it. Like I also said, I’m sick of fighting for the impossible. All I can do is maintain my current weight/inches, which isn’t too hard. Not as hard as it was to maintain 110-115 pounds the last I was there because that’s not natural in this day and age. Middle-aged people are supposed to be 20-50 pounds overweight.

Dan’s still here. Isn’t it a little late to still be here? Makes me wonder if my vibe about his quitting the summer getaways upon our arrival was an accurate one. At least he hasn’t been engine-gunning. All I heard so far this weekend was five seconds of someone’s car stereo. Probably whoever visits the house towards our front. They’d actually be in front of next door. It’s still too bad we couldn’t own all the land within a five-mile radius of this house! But if we did, God would just allow some desperate, attention-seeking asshole to create stereos that could be heard for over five miles, although the stereos that do exist are close to that. Anyway, I’m sure there’ll be stereos that can be heard for 20+ miles away eventually. Eventually, they’ll be too loud for the owners to blast without wearing ear protectors, but they won’t mind. They’re that desperate to put on a show and get noticed.

Monday, May 15, 2000

At 10:30 last night, Dan got a little desperate for attention. He came out and gunned a thunderous engine for about 20 seconds. You could tell he did it just to do it too, and that he didn’t drive off anywhere. Then, a few minutes later, his music started. He had a lot of outside lights on, so it was obvious that he was outside and that the music was either coming from a vehicle of some kind or through an open window/door. I was trying to read so I threw the fan on. When I turned it off a half-hour later, the music was off, so who knows how long it went on? When is this cock leaving? That’s what I want to know. Or is that a thing of the past now that we’re here? At least this thing doesn’t like the heat and at least it’s hot more often than not out here, cuz I’ve been hearing less and less of him as the weather’s warmed up. That’s why he was out so late, or else I’d have heard him in the afternoon. I’ve never heard his music that late before.

Tom said he’s seen one of the owls we have around here that we can sometimes hear hooting at night. They live in the big Palo Verdes that are close to the house. He said the one he saw was huge.

He also said he’s heard buzzing that sounds like that out of a horror movie, but cannot find any hives. He said he thinks the buzzing could be from katydids, but I doubt it. I think it’s bees.

To do a test to see just how much these allergies are related to the mice, I’ve condensed their living space and am going to change them twice a week instead of once a week.

Standing in the mirror, I took pictures of myself with my haircut. God, I have aged! I just don’t look like I did in my 20s. I’m graying, sagging, wrinkling and fat!

We decided we’d sleep together next Saturday night. I’m going to work with him for a few hours on Saturday, so we don’t want to disrupt my sleep the night before.

Tom just called from the cell phone saying he was approaching Circle K and asked if I wanted anything. I told him he could get me my favorite - caramel coffee.

I have a grand plan to lose this extra weight once and for all and if this doesn’t work, nothing will and I’ll just have to accept the 20 extra pounds I’ve got and live with it. I’ll just maintain what I’ve got and keep my weight between 120-125 for the rest of my life by watching what I eat and by working out if this plan fails.

Having 1000 calories a day for several weeks just won’t cut it for me. It’s too long and drawn out a process and I just don’t have the willpower to cut down my food week after week. Also, cutting down food is an awful lot like cutting down cigarettes; it doesn’t last long. You either smoke or don’t smoke at all. Same goes for the food. So, I’ve decided to try crashing my weight off at 5-pound intervals. It shouldn’t take me more than two days to starve off 5 pounds and if I could just lose at least 15 pounds, I would lose inches. Especially since most of my extra weight is fat at this point. If I can shed that outer layer of fat, then it’s OK if I gain the weight back with muscle, as long as my inches stay down. Anyway, I decided to pick Wednesdays and Thursdays as my crash days because on weekends he’s here eating a lot. I didn’t want to pick a Monday because that’s the day I usually go out and I wouldn’t want to go out if I couldn’t stop somewhere for a bite to eat. Anyway, the idea is to crash down to 120 pounds this week, then try to maintain that till next week. Then I’ll try to crash down to 115 and maintain that till next week when I try to crash down to 110. I’ll settle for 110 for now, depending on how it goes. One of three things will happen. I either won’t be able to do it at all, or I’ll be able to do it but won’t be able to maintain it, or I’ll be able to do it and I will maintain it. The last time I struggled to maintain a weight of 110-115, I didn’t have the Bowflex. Maybe this time around it’d be easier to do, but I will admit it is a long shot because I’m fighting nature. It’s not natural to be at an ideal weight when you’re middle-aged.

God, I wish we had money right now! I can’t believe the Gloria things they’re auctioning on eBay! Concert programs, posters, and CDs I’d love to have even though I’m not into her like I was in the late ’80s to early ’90s.

The amount of childbirth on TV never ceases to amaze me. It’s getting more and more, too. It used to be that every other show, movie, and commercial had childbirth in it, but now they’ve got a whole series just about that! There are three different series that I know of that are on every day and it’s nothing but people having babies. I don’t understand the obsession. I can see the murder mysteries, the sex, and the comedies, but the childbirth? I just don’t get it.

Later...

Just took some gorgeous sunset pictures out back. It’s absolutely beautiful out right now and I can’t wait till we have an Arizona room! That way we can be outdoors and not have to worry about bugs.

Last Saturday was the last of The Others.

Tuesday, May 16, 2000

I finished proofreading my story and now it’s Tom’s turn.

Not that I want to have sex more often with this guy, but every day I see he’s such a liar about saying he wants more sex. He spends the bulk of his time that he’s home sitting in front of the TV, never making time for sex when the opportunity’s there, except for once during the weekend.

Later...

Tom put the flag up yesterday. I had him put it by the front door. I’m flying a flag of a cactus and coyote. The same one that hung on the wall in the back room over the microwave in Phoenix.

He also evened out my hair.

It’s very windy right now, as it usually is. It’s nice to hear the wind chimes, but this wind gets old. All it does is scatter the shit outside about the land and interfere with us burning trash. Tom said he heard we could be in for some rain today or tomorrow and it could be only in the mid-60s. Yeah, right! Well, it sure as hell isn’t going to rain. I doubt it’ll rain till August when the monsoons set in.

Wednesday, May 17, 2000

I decided not to do my grand plan of a diet because I know I’ll only end up working so hard for so little if anything at all. As soon as I started eating again, I’d only gain back whatever weight I lost.

I’ve been working out for six weeks now and Tom says I look different overall. Oh, yeah? Then how come I’m the same exact weight since I began and how come my measurements are the same as they were when I began? I’ll tell you why - because I just don’t have the willpower to eat 1000 calories a day and work out for at least three hours a day. I need 1500-2000 calories a day and I can’t bring myself to work out longer than 20-60 minutes a day.

To top it all off, I’m sick of dealing with it. I’m fat and I’m always going to be. Period. Sometimes the best way to deal with a problem that can’t be solved is to just ignore it. Just crumble it up like an unwanted piece of paper and chuck it in the garbage. That’s all I can do. Just forget it and accept the 20 extra pounds I carry as a part of me that just is. Just like my arms and legs are a part of me.

Later...

Tom fixed one of my programs that wouldn’t run in Windows 98 which is what I’ve been using since my mouse and word processor first died.

Evelyn’s serious about giving us her trailer. She sent home a few pictures of it with Tom. It’s recently been painted, so I guess I won’t be painting it any time soon. It’s white with light blue trim. Again, it’s a 40’ single-wide and looks like Dennis’ trailer, only it’s bigger and newer. It may be a while before we get it because it may be a while before she moves. We’ll have to come up with the money to haul it out here and have it set up. As Tom pointed out today, the thing has to be strapped down with the way the wind is ferocious out here, or else something that size (a fourth of the size of this house, barely) will blow over and smash into this house. We want to put it where half is behind the house, and the other half sticks past the master bedroom end of the house, blocking the view of the rentals. You could probably see the rentals from the kitchen and den windows, but not from the retreat, once it’s here.

Just think, I told Tom, a workshop that comes with a ton of storage space, a place to wash up, and a place to pee! Now he won’t have to come all the way to the house just to pee.

I feel so bad for Evelyn. Yes, I know all too well what it’s like to live in a shit neighborhood with shit neighbors that I just can’t wait to escape! Like most trailer parks, hers is loaded with scum freeloaders. I can just imagine all the noise she has to put up with! I’m sure this place has always been bad too, and that she just couldn’t resist wasting her time like I used to by asking the lazies to lower their music and that by now, she’s just asked one freeloader too many, causing their shit to escalate. You don’t do that to them. You just don’t ask blacks and Mexicans to turn their music down. First they’ll ignore your request, then they’ll get pissed over it. There’s no changing the blacks and Mexicans of this world, although Joebitch’s boy toy did quiet down in the end. Why, they didn’t raise holy hell right before they moved, though, still baffles me to this day. What would they have had to lose at that point if they were out from under the city’s wing?

They have a new series on HBO all about the lives of blacks. No thanks. I don’t care to watch blacks stand out on the streets dealing drugs and shooting people any more than I care for the childbirth.

Thursday, May 18, 2000

Yesterday was a major breakthrough as far as any resentment I’ve ever had towards Tom for not cumming. Even though I have long since stopped wanting a kid and although I’ve always known I was sterile, even if doctors could never tell me why, I had conflicting emotions, nonetheless, that I feared would never change. I felt controlled by Tom and I resented his not cumming regularly to let me play things out, despite the inevitable outcome of me never conceiving. I was angry with him for taking the chance to do that away from me. Let’s put it this way, I still feel it was always within his control and that he made the choice not to cum, and I always will feel that way despite how much he denies it. I also don’t buy his feeling bad about it, because if that’s how he really felt, and if he really had a problem that was out of his control, he’d have done something about it a long time ago. So obviously my feelings about it never mattered that much to him, and if they did, they didn’t matter as much to him as his being and staying the way he is mattered to him. For his own reasons, it was always more important to him to keep me from conceiving, than it was to deal with my feelings and do things to give that a chance to happen, despite the odds against it. I’ll never believe Tom’s lack of cumming is out of his hands unless a doctor came out and told me - look. It’s not his fault and there’s nothing that can be done about it. If he couldn’t get hard in the first place, that’d be different.

I still have no regrets about how things turned out. I’m glad we never did have that kid or else we wouldn’t be where we are today in life. I just wish I never had to go through the damn pain of wanting one and knowing I could never have one in the first place. This is why I can never shed my hard feelings towards God, no matter what he blesses me with. That, and how he allows so many horrible things to happen throughout this world. Any God that can let a woman suffer the way he let me suffer can never be respected or loved by me. I’ll never forgive him for robbing me of my right to choose, even if it was the best thing he ever did for me. Still, that should’ve been my decision to make.

Anyway, I finally feel any hard feelings I’ve ever had towards Tom dissipating. He doesn’t ever have to cum, I don’t ever have to play out scenes that weren’t meant to be played out, and I don’t ever have to have invitro. And I don’t resent him anymore. His happiness and his being how he wants to be is what’s most important to me and life is good, overall. Why change a good thing? Like I said, I really appreciate those dry sheets and not having to use birth control! He’s happy, I’m happy, and life will go on and be just wonderful, no matter what it holds for us, as long as we’re together forever. I know we’ll still have our bad days. I know things will still break, money will still be an issue (at least for a while), he’ll still get colds, I’ll still have breathing problems, but I’d rather the car have a flat tire every day if it means being with him than to have any of my old life back. Especially the part before I knew him.

Friday, May 19, 2000

Just went out and threw some food out for Gophie. Haven’t seen that snake since I first saw it. I guess it moved on.

Freddie’s gotten to be the fattest mouse I ever had and he’s so lazy, too. I wonder if he doesn’t have tumors.

Anyway, maybe there are still some hard feelings toward Tom. God, all the problems with sex. Sex, sex, sex! Always sex-related! I’m so fucking sick of it! Eliminate all the fights over sex and having a kid and we’d hardly ever fight. At least we don’t fight nearly as much as we used to since I became OK with not having a kid. He’s not only lied about why he doesn’t cum and about wanting a kid, but he also lied about cumming back when I tricked him by playing dumb and commenting on how he came regularly. He was caught red-handed, yet he still had the gall to lie to my face. So, he’s already proven that he’s capable of lying when it’s in his best interest. Aside from his lying about sex and a kid, I appreciate him for a million reasons, but does he fully appreciate me? I’ve done a lot more than just save him time by doing his laundry and cleaning the house. Do you know how many women would’ve left him because of the sex, and mostly because they couldn’t have a child with him? He, right along with God, has taken so much from me, regardless of if I’m OK with it. Not that I desire to leave him or cheat on him, but I’m doomed to a life of shitty sex, when he wants it, how whatever’s up there wants it, with no regard for what I may want, and God help me if I ever want a kid again. Yes, God would see to it that I miscarried as many times as they did an implant in me if I had invitro, but do I really think Tom would ever let me get that far? Right! I’m sure he’d either refuse to cum or tamper with it if he did. If I never mentioned a kid again, neither would he for as long as he lived.

I’m also a little tired of his getting so defensive over simple little comments I may make. Last night I offered to have sex, but he wasn’t in the mood. It wasn’t the weekend. All I said was, “Yeah, I know you’re a weekend kind of guy,” and he was like, “Yeah, well, let me be me.”

Now what did that comment have to do with him being him? All I did was make an observation. Not demand he be somebody else. As far as dominating and controlling the sex, he sure is your average, normal male! Thank God he doesn’t want it just about every day like most males do! That’d really drive me crazy.

Anyway, the reaction to my comment and to a test I ran him through is what upset me most. I said I was thinking of experimenting with calling the gay lines just to see what his reaction would be. Sure enough, he was against it. So, he can do what he wants sexually, but I can’t. It’s amazing he even goes down on me at times. Nonetheless, I would never step out on him and I know it’s a good thing that he objected, and I figured as much, but I just had to see it anyway.

My sex life isn’t over just because of him and his boring bullshit. It’s cuz of me. I just have no interest anymore. The only thing that interests me is to close my eyes and imagine a woman down there while I use the vibrator and this isn’t nearly as often as it used to be, either. It’s just that when you’re dealing with fantasy, and I’ve always felt this way, there are no problems. The vibrator could break, but it doesn’t lie to me and play games. It doesn’t make me feel controlled, manipulated or cheated out of things that should rightfully be mine. So, I guess I was wrong to say I was over my hard feelings towards Tom. Perhaps I never will be and perhaps this is the one thing I can never ever forgive him for. I’m going to try my damnedest, though, not to give him the satisfaction of knowing how I feel, even though I’ve told him. I just don’t want to let it show if I can help it. I’ll just go along with him and let him dictate when and how we have sex. I still could do without a kid, and at the same time I have hard feelings, I want him to be happy and do what he wants more than I want him to change to suit me.

I feel this is more than just a case of his not cumming because he doesn’t want the expense and responsibility of a child and because he doesn’t think I could handle a child (even though he denies all this). I think it’s also about arrogance and stubbornness. It’s like a competition to him that he’s determined to stick to and win. It’s almost like he’s been saying to me all these years, “You got your way with this, this and that, and you’re not getting your way with this one.”

Fine Tom. Just remember - the next time you say you’re bothered by how you are - do something about it or don’t mention it at all.

It’s important that I note that for every time he’s lied about sex and a kid, he’s done and said thousands of wonderful things. I love this man dearly, despite his flaws, and I couldn’t imagine life without him. Even if I returned to wanting a kid really bad and knew I could conceive by a man who’d cum regularly and was attracted to men in general, I’d still give that up in the name of love. I love Tom enough to give up anything I may want that I can’t have with him for whatever the reason may be. I only wish that he’d be honest about things. He should’ve told me up front that he was against cumming and a kid. I still would’ve loved him and stayed with him.

Now, after nearly 7 years of this sexual shit, I’m SICK TO DEATH OF IT!!! So, hopefully, you won’t be hearing much about it from me from here on out. I’m fated for the sex to be how it has been for the rest of my life. Period. Why cry over spilled milk?

Later...

This is just too damn weird! I usually get up around 10:00 these days, but I’ve been up since 7:30 today. That’s because I had a dream someone was knocking on the door and got up and checked to be sure and couldn’t fall back asleep. I didn’t see anyone, and I was sure it was just a dream seeing that I’ve had dreams like this before and how early it was, but now I don’t know. Surprisingly enough, it turns out that Tom had that same exact dream at 2:30 in the morning, 6 hours after going to bed, just like me. I can’t find any other common denominators, though. He said he was sure his was a dream because it didn’t sound real and because of the hour, but this sure is a bizarre coincidence, not to mention the footsteps I could’ve sworn I heard inside the house. Although the animals could’ve easily made this sound, shortly after he went to bed, I went and vegged out in bed with coffee. Well, he sometimes shuffles his feet when he walks. Especially if he’s tired. I could’ve sworn I heard him come shuffling out into the kitchen and fumble around with something in there, be it a glass or whatever, but he says it wasn’t him. If our dreams weren’t dreams, then who the hell would be knocking at the door at such odd hours and why? Burglars don’t make any sense because 2:30 in the morning just isn’t the time to go breaking into houses unless you want to risk getting killed. At 7:30, someone could’ve seen that the car was gone, but if they knocked with plans of breaking in if no one answered, why didn’t they? I peeked out the window cuz I can see the stairs from there. I didn’t see anyone, any fresh tracks, or any cars, so who knows if our dreams were just dreams or not? It’s a hell of a coincidence, though.

The first thing I think when I think of knocks on the door is - oh, no. Somebody did something to the blacks or Mexicans and they don’t know who did, so they’re conveniently naming me just to get at me and just to punish somebody for whatever shit happened to them. 

These people are sick enough to do something like that, and besides, this world is so black and white, lacking fairness and gray, balanced areas. Meaning that where whites once had more rights than minorities; now it’s the other way around. You think Mr. Biased would jump to defend a white person being harassed by a black or a Mexican? Somehow, I don’t think so.

Saturday, May 20, 2000

My hair is the healthiest it’s been in over a decade. I certainly don’t have any split ends anymore. Maybe a few, but they’d be hard to find, just like it used to be hard to find any that weren’t.

I couldn’t have been righter when I told Tom in Phoenix that old curses never die, and that we’d be playing leak in no time at all after moving. This is leak number three already! Those mother-fuckers at Palm Harbor! Aaaaaaaaaarrrrrggggghhhh! They’ve got two marks against them. They’re males (mostly) and they’re Mexicans. I love this house, but I totally regret not taking Tom’s suggestion and getting out of Phoenix sooner than we did. I didn’t know, though, that we’d have to go through the four months of bullshit we went through, although I should’ve known, and I didn’t know the house would be made in Mexico! We should’ve cut our freeloader time down, skipped out on the freeloaders altogether, and left Phoenix sooner. We could’ve gotten land and a cheap trailer like what we’re getting from Evelyn and lived in that while we built a house for us and built it right. These fucking Mexicans half-assed so many fucking things with this house, it’s fucking pitiful! The leak we had under the house the first night we were in here, though, was Brian’s fault (always a fucking male), but the half-assed tightening of the pipes under the kitchen and second bath sinks were completely Mexicans-made. Tom just discovered the second bath’s sink leaks and believes this may be the cause of the foul odor we’ve smelled in there. Now why can’t these lazy bastards do something as simple as tightening a valve all the way, huh? Is this really that difficult to do? Pathetic people do pathetic things. Anyway, even Mary was astounded. She was like - you mean you’re fixing leaks on a brand-new house?! Yup. And I’m sure we’ll be fixing something else they’ve fucked up real soon. Anyway, I’d like to know what’s causing the foul odor in the master bath. So far, I amazingly can’t find any leaks in there yet, although this odor is different. The second bath smelled kind of like the smell of hair dye that hits you went you walk into a salon. The one in the master bath smells like seaweed. I’ll keep an eye on it, but it looks like they may have left us one area that actually doesn’t leak. What’s next, though? The toilets? The dishwasher? What?

Household problems aren’t the only unfortunate vibes I have. Right now, I have the feeling we’re not getting a printer in June like we had hoped and talked about. Something does not want me sending pictures to Doe, Art and Tammy. Tom said he’s not ready to give up on it and I told him that I was, so when he sees that I’m right, don’t beat yourself up for it, I said. It’s not your fault. You know whose fault it is.

Steven and Dan, you lucky, lucky mother-fuckers! They’re just as lucky as Bill and Larry and so many others for escaping my fists. How I’d love to scar up Steven’s face so that every time he looked in the mirror, he remembered me!!!

Well, I’ve been working out for six weeks now and where do I stand? Really close to where I started. My starting measurements were 37-29-38 with 22½ thighs. Now they’re 36½-29-37 with 22 thighs. Big deal, huh? Although I suppose it’s better than nothing. I still think I’ll always fluctuate between weighing 122-125 pounds and an inch or so in measurements, but he says that in time, if I stick to working out, I’ll fluctuate between smaller numbers. That’s OK. I can accept maintaining what I’ve got. I mean, at least I can maintain and never have to worry about getting bigger. Carrying 20 extra pounds for the rest of my life won’t kill me. There are worse things than that. Also, I’m glad I finally found something I can enjoy sticking to. I can’t imagine life without the Bowflex! I’m 122 pounds today, but today I can’t shit, so I’m sure I’ll be gaining. Last week I was stuck for four days and ended up going from 122-125. I hope I’m not stuck that long, but if I am, I am. There’s nothing I can do about it.

Tonight’s the night Tom and I agreed we’d sleep together, but I have a feeling that if I don’t mention it, he won’t either, so we’ll see. I’m not going to mention it because I want to see how much it matters to him. I don’t want to push him into doing something he doesn’t want to do. As for me, you know I hate sharing a bed so I can live without us sleeping together. I wake up at the slightest movement, and his snoring is horrendous. What’s important is that we love each other and stay together forever.

We were going to go to where he works together today, but he didn’t need to work, so we visited Mary, Dave and Mom today, stopping at Circle K first.

Her evaporative cooler felt nice. I miss those things. We were there for a little over two hours and made sure not to arrive till Pepper was gone. They brought him to be groomed. It was nice not having him out back barking his ass off. All I had to listen to at times was their obnoxious birds. The hamster and fish are quiet, though.

Before we left I copied a few pictures for them onto a floppy. Pictures of the snake, the iguana, the scorpion, and the outfits we made for Bailey.

We all watched the Preakness horse race on TV (boring) and Mary and Dave went out to get pizza at one point, too. Dave and I teased Tom and Mary for liking pepperoni pizza and they ranked on us for liking mushroom pizza. I had two pieces which fortunately didn’t fuck up my stomach.

While Mary and Dave were getting the pizza, Mom said, “Have you seen the really cute commercial? The one where a woman’s having a baby and out pops a Japanese baby?”

I’m like - oh, please! I’m so sick of commercials, movies and shows with that shit. I’ve seen childbirth on TV more than murder!

Speaking of TV, I guess part of the reason we’re not getting the printer in June is my fault. I mentioned how our TV is a little small and definitely too dark since it’s very old. Well, they took this to mean more than just a casual comment. I guess I came off as not being able to live without a good TV. I said something about the TV a few times and they ended up calling us once we got home offering to buy us a new TV for our anniversary unless we could think of something we wanted more. Well, I want a new printer more than a new TV, but a new TV would certainly be nice. Very nice, and I know Tom would love it because he said he wants a TV more than a printer and because of how much he loves TV. He spends 90% of the time he’s home watching TV, I sometimes feel I have to compete with it and that he doesn’t want to spend time with me. There’s not much we could do together, though. He doesn’t like sex all that much and we can’t go swimming together, that’s for sure. Anyway, I have mixed emotions about them getting us a TV, which is so generous of them to offer. I want Tom to have what he wants, but like he said, I threw a monkey wrench in his plan. He was hoping for more money than usual for our anniversary cuz Ma’s upping the amount of money she’s giving people to avoid us being taxed when she dies, and now we may not get that if we get the TV. If I was smart, I’d drop the idea of sending pictures to people, like I said before. If I’m right about something not wanting me to do it, and it gets more and more obvious that that’s the case, I don’t want to get in trouble over people I can’t stand anyway. I only wanted to rub it in their faces (the new house, etc.), but not that bad. They’re not that worth it, trust me.

Mary’s yard looked great. She’s got those wildflowers at the side of her house, a pretty primrose bush in front, a rose bush, a tall palm tree, etc. We can’t plant things here from seed because of how the wildlife eats them, but hopefully we won’t have any problems planting things we’ll get from a nursery someday.

Mary told us a cute story about a woman she saw playing with a rat in her car at an intersection. She said it was running around her neck and that the woman was picking it up by the tail and tickling its stomach.

I can’t believe how good Mary’s thighs look for being as overweight as she is. I mean, she’s much bigger than me, and she is overweight, but not like Nora and Evie and so many other women are. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she jogged. Her thighs seem skinnier than mine and firmer. Also, she has no craters on the backs of her thighs like I do. How does she pull it off and eat McDonald’s every day and not exercise?

Later…

Looks like I guessed right. Sleeping together once a week isn’t that important to Tom, or else he’d have remembered our plans. Still, I’m not going to make him do anything he doesn’t want to do, and besides, I doubt I would’ve enjoyed it. I like sleeping with people in my imagination.

I totally dread my next dentist appointment. My teeth are a mess and I’m going to have a dozen cavities! My teeth have even been sensitive to hot and cold lately.

Later…

I decided that once Tom mentioned going to bed and heading towards the guest room, I’d ask if he forgot about our plan, or if it just wasn’t worth remembering. He said he forgets to do things he wants to do all the time. Whatever. I asked him what he wanted to do and he said he’d sleep in his room tonight, but that he wanted what we discussed to have time to “sink in.” He said that people usually go to bed around the same time, but not to go to sleep with the hopes of trying not to wake the other person up. He said it’s a shared thing where sometimes you wake each other up, both intentionally and not. Sometimes you just wake each other up by accident, sometimes you deliberately do so to screw, etc. So what do we do from here? I asked him, and he said there were no plans and no steps to take, cuz this is something that just is. Not for us, it isn’t. I think we’d have some work to do in order to make it something that just is if that’s possible, but as I told him, I’ll do what he wants, and whatever’s fated to be will be. I have a feeling, though, that if we try to adapt to new ways, something up in the sky will get awfully mad at us, cuz wouldn’t we have been sleeping together all along if we were meant to in the first place? I told him that the spontaneity of it sounded nice, but if he liked spontaneity, then why does he announce when we’re gonna have sex? He always says something like - let’s get together in ten minutes, or something like that. He said he would prefer to be spontaneous about it and that the reason he announces it is that I’m always saying I’m gonna listen to music, have popcorn, or do something, so he feels that’s the only way to wedge it in. I kind of took that as a lame excuse, though. Yes, I’d like to be left alone when I’m listening to music and yes, I’d like to eat my popcorn in peace, but what about the other things I do? They’re interruptible. I take breaks from the things I do all the time, anyway. If I’m reading in the bedroom, he’s welcome to come in and join me because that book will still be there when we’re done, and I don’t mean just for sex. I mean for anything, be it to chat or whatever. In the end, whatever will be, will be. I still truly believe that. We’ll go where we’re destined to go.

Sunday, May 21, 2000

I’m experimenting with and trying to get to like this newer, more modern word processor I’m using. I like how it automatically caps the first letter after a period and the I’s in words like I’m, I’ll, etc. This word processor is three years old and the one I’ve been using all along is eight years old. It has all the functions the other one had, plus some new features that are hard to figure out, but I’m working on it. This is the word processor we’re going to use to send my story to publishers.

Paula definitely had to have lost her phone for her not to have called this long. I’m rather disappointed that she never sent me the letter and picture she said she was going to send. Why does she have to be such a bullshitter? Maybe something happened to her, though. Maybe she punched someone else out and is in jail, or maybe she got killed. In my next letter to her, I’ll say something about stopping my letters in case something happened where she wasn’t getting my mail, and see if that prompts her into writing.

Dan’s got his place lit up and has his music on. This time it’s softer than last Sunday night and I can just ever so barely make it out. This is one lonely, dude. I said to myself – I’ll bet come Sunday evening, after spending the whole weekend alone with no one to talk to, he’s gonna get desperate for attention and play his music when it cools down. Well, I was right. I guess I know a lonely person when I see one. I’m amazed he isn’t engine-gunning. Other than that, it’s been a quiet, peaceful weekend. I finally get to live the way I want to live and the way that should be my right to live if I want to – in peace. I’ll enjoy every second I get of it! It’s so wonderful not knowing next door’s habits and who they have for visitors and when they have them. It ain’t my business and I don’t want to know!

On the wall in my office where I intend to put that beach mural, one of these years, I hung two rows of flags. Two rows of three. I’ve got irises, Tweety, an underwater fish, Bugs Bunny, Snoopy, and musical notes. Personally, I think it looks sort of tacky. Especially with Indian dolls in front of it. I may take it down. We’ll see.

I’m having one of those screwy periods that are slow in starting. I had spots, then a light flow, and now I’m waiting on my full flow. I thought that was coming on early cuz I got all crampy and asked Tom for a raincheck on sex if he had any plans for that today. No problem, he said. He took it so well as usual. I guess this means we’ll have to wait till next weekend since he doesn’t really like sex during the week, even if he won’t admit this. If I’m right, and I’m only going by his actions, cuz actions do speak louder than words – what’s the big deal? Why can’t he just admit he likes sex on the weekend? And at the end of his day? He seems to copycat me, though. Meaning that when I bail out of sex for whatever reason, he does the same thing. So, next weekend, he may bail out. Better yet, my guess is that we’ll get in bed together, but we won’t screw. Something will happen where he’ll conveniently forget how to go inside me, or I’ll be too dry, or he’ll be sore, tired, or curious about what’s going on outside. One or the other will happen for sure, but he’ll bail out. I’d bet my dolls on it.

Monday, May 22, 2000

Two nights ago I put Ratsy and Fudgie in the big barred cage, but when I got up this morning just before 9:00, I noticed that Fudgie escaped. I should’ve known he was still too skinny! I haven’t seen that little devil, whom I’m guessing is asleep under the couch, but come tonight when he gets hungry and thirsty, I expect I’ll see him. At least he’s not a chewer and hasn’t damaged any wires.

I’m not even stuck and I’m back to 125 pounds. I feel like a giant balloon! I don’t know if it’s water or what, but this period has been super screwy. I woke up with cramps today but never bled a drop. My tits are still a little sore too, so when am I gonna flow out and be done with this shit for the month? I hate having these periods be such long, drawn-out ordeals. Can’t I just get my period? Just simply get it? Better yet, how about a hysterectomy? Why not, God? You and I both know I don’t need my uterus.

Later…

Well, I’m not stuck anymore. Still 125, though. Why is it so natural for me to be 20-25 pounds overweight? Why??? Stupid question, I know. Just about everyone who’s over 30 is overweight. Although I knew it wouldn’t, it still would’ve been nice if I could’ve lost weight and inches with the Bowflex, but if I bounce back and forth between 122-125 it’ll be better than going over 125. Same with the 1-2 inches I bounce between. Better my thighs go bouncing between 22-23 than to wake up one day with 25” or even 30” thighs!

The only way I could lose weight would be to starve it off, but what’s the point? If I were 110 tomorrow, I’d be back to where I am now in a few weeks, so why bother?

I know it’s daytime, but it kind of bothers me that I haven’t seen Fudgie. I’d like to believe he’s under the couch, sleeping happily and comfortably till he gets hungry enough to show himself, but why do I have the feeling I’ll never see him again, and that if I do, he won’t be alive? God, please don’t take this rat! At least not so soon!

Later…

Fudgie’s home! I just got up to head into the kitchen for coffee when I saw him at his bowl eating. I had moved Ratsy into the tank and left the door open to the big cage so he could get food and drinks. Maybe I’m just being paranoid, in light of losing Scuttles so soon, but man is this rat scrawny! I hope it’s nothing bad and that he fattens up soon.

I see Gophie out front playing right now. Now that my inside pets are situated, I think I’ll go out and give her a bite to eat.

Later…

It’s hot out there. I don’t know how hot since as usual, I’m having trouble getting online.

I took down the flag wall I made. Tom climbed the ladder and tacked the top row of flags up, and I only had to climb about three rungs of that shaky ladder, fortunately, and could just yank the flags off the wall. It was just too much. Too tacky looking. The beach scene mural will look a lot nicer.

I guess I’m officially moved over here and done with the 1992 version of this program that had been such a good friend of mine for so long. Another thing I like about this program is that I can use more than eight characters for file names.

Later…

Tom called about a half-hour ago, saying he was leaving work. Last night he told me it’d be a late day for him, but because his boss doesn’t want him working overtime, he gets to leave work early later on in the week.

Oh, how cute. Gophie’s out front running back and forth. I wonder – is this the same animal I’ve been seeing and feeding? Or are there other Gophies? I get the feeling this is the same one because I’ve never seen more than one Gophie at once.

I changed the mice’s cages earlier. I’m trying to change all the animals on Mondays and Thursdays instead of just Mondays. Although I always have the group of six mice in a large tank, I always do a different tube design. This time around I have a tower of straight tubes sticking off of T-tubes at different angles, stemming up from the bass of the tank.

I guess Fudgie could live like a cat if he’s not going to chew and damage anything. Or decide to go pissing and shitting wherever he felt like it. If I left the cage door open, he could come and go as he pleases, using his cage as a litter box and for food and drink. Ratsy, on the other hand, is a chewer, so unless I want to separate them, which I don’t, I better keep the door shut. Maybe I’ll separate them sometimes and let Fudgie run around loose for a while. Maybe tonight, before bed, I’ll stick him in the big cage, and then let him escape for a while.

Tuesday, May 23, 2000

I’m a bit rundown now. Something just hasn’t wanted me to sleep without interruptions these last couple of nights. The night before last, cramps woke me up. Last night I was up for an hour with cramps too, and then I woke up for a second at 8:00. I would’ve gone right back to sleep if I hadn’t noticed that the power was out. I wasn’t planning to get up till 9:30. The first thing I thought was – oh no! Tom forgot to pay them or couldn’t pay them and now the power will be off all day and I won’t be able to reach him for hours and it’ll get to be a sauna in here! And what if we lose the phone, too? Well, I never did reach him, but fortunately, it wasn’t turned off for lack of payment. It was off all over Maricopa. Since I couldn’t reach Tom or fucking APS, I called Mary’s. I expected to get Mom because Tom told me Evelyn was going to stop staying with Mom during the daytime and that Mom would be going into an adult daycare center, but Evelyn answered. I told her that I couldn’t reach Tom or APS and that I feared they shut us off, but she was the one who got through to APS somehow and found out that they were having problems in the area and that it wasn’t just us. So I was without power for nearly an hour. Then again, a couple of hours later, it went out for about ten minutes. Due to the loss of power, it shot the well, so now I have no water, but I can certainly live without that compared to the AC. Of course I’ve had to piss and shit like hell since I can’t flush the toilets. Hopefully, they won’t back up once the water’s on again. I wish there was an easier way to reach Tom!!! He might be able to tell me how to reset the fucking pump. Anyway, I don’t want to get into too much computer work in case the power fails again.

For now, I’ll just say that I put Fudgie back in the big cage yesterday and let him escape since he doesn’t seem to be harming anything. I really think he goes under the couch. He escaped sometime after I went to bed at 12:30 just like the night before, and Tom and I noticed he was gone at 3:30. He should be getting hungry for lunch soon, or rather a midnight snack, for being the nocturnal creature that he is. Anyway, when I found him gone I put Ratsy in the tank since I don’t want him loose too, cuz he chews more than Fudgie. After putting Ratsy in the tank, I opened the door to the big cage so he can get in when he wants to go home.

Later…

Tom showed me how to record a macro so I could insert the time with just two keystrokes that I hit at once. Ctrl+8 is for the time and ctrl+9 is for the date and time. In the other program, I recorded a macro for the ½ sign, but this program automatically inserts the ½ sign when you type 1-slash-2. It also makes the ‘st’ of 1st smaller and the ‘rd’ of 3rd smaller. Yes, I like this version much better. I just need a new mouse. I miss having the motion wheel.

I took a nap for an hour or two. Hopefully, I’ll still be able to go to bed around midnight and sleep straight through till around 9:00 without interruptions.

Earlier, I heard a boom car stereo go by for the second night in a row, but I never did see the car. Tom still insists they can’t live out here because they can’t take the vibrations of the bumpy dirt roads, but obviously they can, although it may be someone who just visits someone else frequently. Nonetheless, I heard it and I’m sure it was from a car and not from a house. God, what am I going to do when they get more and more frequent?! They may not be able to get as close to me as they used to, but when they progress a little more and get even louder, that’ll make up for the difference. When it comes to these things I wish I was born earlier than the mid-60s. The turn of the century would’ve been nice. Then I could be dead or close to it when the damn things came out. People get worse and worse and pushier and pushier when it comes to doing their thing. They get more and more selfish and more and more desperate for attention. I saw a case on Cops the other night where a baby’s parents took it to a bar. Then the parents had an argument and they ended up outside in an alley. At one point, the mother handed the baby to a homeless bum so she could fight with her husband. My point? My point is that these are the kinds of people that are becoming parents more and more often. Eventually, all parents will be like them. Well, this baby – these are the kinds of kids that grow up to be the selfish losers like what we had to live next to for years. This neglected baby is going to grow up wanting to be heard, to be noticed, to seek the acknowledgment of its existence. It’ll do anything for attention. Just like a religious fanatic wants to spread God’s so-called holy word to as many people as possible, these fucks want to spread their music to as many people as possible. The best way to reach more people with noise is with music. I mean, what else are they gonna do? Stand out on a street corner and yell? That’d get some attention, but not as much as a moving car would with music blasting from it that’s way louder than a person’s voice. Anyway, it’s quiet here 99% of the time. The best thing about the power failure, which makes a house dead quiet, is not having to listen to barking dogs, let alone noisy blacks and Mexicans. You rarely hear dogs in here, thank God. They haven’t even been booming in the sky. It’d be nice if they only did that January 1st – March 15th every year, but fat chance. I’m sure they alternate flying schedules. Maybe they’ll start again on June 1st, which may be a good thing. It may help me stay on schedule till my next appointment.

I finally got a hold of Tom at work around noon and he came home to reset the well, which shuts itself off after a power failure. I tried to do it myself, but the buttons are fucked up thanks to when it shorted out before. Thanks, Dan, you mother-fucking cock! Will there ever be a day when I don’t want to kill Steven and Dan? I doubt it!

He reminded me that I could’ve called his old work number, cuz there’s always someone there that could go get him in an emergency. I did call that number, but it was busy. Maybe I dialed wrong.

Another thing Tom pointed out is that due to this house being so well insulated, it wouldn’t kill me if I had no AC all day. It’d get uncomfortable, but not to the point where I’d roast to death.

Anyway, I learned a lesson from this, which he pointed out – don’t attempt to take a shower after a power failure cuz that’ll just drain all the water from the pressure tank. If I don’t, then I can flush the toilet 20-30 times. Having two toilets helped so I could divvy up my peeing between the two, trying to use as little toilet paper as possible, although if I’d had to do them all in one, it wouldn’t have backed up.

Fudgie, whose nickname is Houdini, after the famous escapist magician, lost his freedom today. I discovered one of his hiding places, which neither of us was too surprised about since it’s close to where I sleep. I still think he may have gone under the couch, but he was definitely hanging out in the corner of the master closet behind the guitars. He chewed the toe up on one of my old ballet slippers, which I thought was no big deal. I simply moved the good shoes up to the shelves. But then the little devil had the nerve to chew holes in the airbed, so that was it. He’s in the tank till he can’t squeeze through the bars. I also think it’s best that he remains in captivity so he doesn’t get too used to being free and less and less wanting to be handled by me and to play with me. I want him to want to hang out with me too, and not just to want to explore.

Wednesday, May 24, 2000

Oh, that fucking spit doctor! He just doesn’t give up. Like he needs any more money than he’s got? The cock that cleaned my ear out is still trying to bill us for it yet it was supposed to be covered by our insurance. Tom called them once or twice and told them it was an insured appointment, they said they “screwed up their billing,” but they keep billing us. Well, we’re not paying for something we don’t owe money on, that’s for sure. And I don’t believe they “screwed up their billing.” I think they deliberately bill people for stuff they’re insured for to try to make an extra buck, hoping some sucker will get fed up with the bills and collection agency letters and just pay the damn thing, but their scam won’t work on us.

What was weird was that I not only got a letter about it from a collection agency, but I got a certified letter. I never got the letter, though, cuz they sent it back. They try a couple of times to get the letter to you, but when that doesn’t work they give up and send the letter back. I didn’t get it because Tom didn’t go to pick up the mail on the days they tried to get it to me, but that’s OK, I’m not interested. I found it strange that they’d send a certified letter and not just a regular letter. Since when do collection agencies send certified letters? Tom said he’s sure that’s who the letter is from and he pointed out how there was no return on the envelope of the regular letter or the slip for the certified letter. I hope he’s right, cuz those freeloaders have me so paranoid (even though I haven’t done a damn thing to these shitfucks). Especially when they’ve got cops on their side like Mr. Biased who wouldn’t believe a damn thing I told him, anyway. He never wanted to see the truth as to which one of us was really the victim. Tom said not to worry and that if it was anything official, I wouldn’t be getting a certified letter over it.

Evelyn left a message for me to call her, saying Ma wanted to talk to me, and I was like – what could she possibly want to talk to me about? Anyway, I called her (I must’ve had the music blaring when she called) and Evelyn answered. I apologized for getting hysterical on her yesterday and she was like – no problem, and even gave me her home phone number. It’s funny to think that of all the people Evelyn hates, which is almost everyone, she likes me. I can see her liking Tom like she does, but me? When Tom told me what she was like, I expected to be the last person she’d like. Anyway, she handed Ma the phone and she thanked me for the letter and I was like – oh yeah! I forgot about that. Evelyn told Tom that she thought it would be nice if Ma got letters so I typed her one. She thanked me for the letter and told me that she was going to be checking out that adult daycare center. I hope she likes it, but I worry about her. I just get very nervous when I think of hospitals, daycare, nursing homes, schools, etc. There’s always some hotshot on power-play.

I’ve devised a self-help plan regarding my rage over Larry. I’m hoping this will be very therapeutic for me. For some reason, I just can’t seem to get over how furious I am at that sick cock. I just want to kill him! I want to break his and Bill’s neck so fucking bad. They need to be taken down a peg or two by a female and I’m just the bitch to do it. They are so lucky I don’t live there! Anyway, I’m speaking my feelings into a tape just as if I were talking to his face and I plan on mailing this tape to him at some point. I just wish I could know he’d listen to it, but I doubt he’ll have the guts to hear me out. I’m sure that as soon as he hears my voice he’ll ditch the tape. I’m still gonna send it anyway and make sure I don’t put enough postage on the envelope so he has to pay to get the tape, hee, hee! I won’t waste my time praying to God for him to listen to the tape, because just like 99% of my prayers, he’ll only ignore me. He obviously ignored me when I begged for the freeloaders to read my mail. There’s no way those freeloaders would read my mail first, then call the cops. It’d take people like this, who are slower and dumber than your average person, weeks to read through all that shit. They can barely write, so imagine how long it’d take them to read about 200 pages! Anyway, even if the cock doesn’t listen to me tell him what a lying little wimp he is, it’ll still feel good to make the tape and make him pay for it, too.

Later…

We put up this really neat thing that his mom gave us. She used it in her old house, I guess. It’s a digital thermostat that tells you both the inside and outside temperatures. We used the Mexicans’ half-assed ways to our advantage. They didn’t seal up the back door very well, so we were able to run the wire out through the door without crushing it. That wire needs to be outside to sense the outside temp.

I forgot to say that I’m back to 122 pounds, but it’s not encouraging, believe me. I know I’ll be back to 125 pounds soon enough.

Thursday, May 25, 2000

Tomorrow I should be able to get Carol Kane’s TV schedule for June. Please be on, Office Killer and When a Stranger Calls Back!

UPS delivered Tom’s award from work. A giant portfolio.

Larry’s not going to be a happy camper. Again, I acknowledge and admit the fact that this was very childish and immature of me, not to mention a waste of time if he doesn’t listen to it, but I couldn’t resist making that tape I mentioned where I told him just what I felt about him. If he does listen to it, he’ll be shocked at some of the things I had to say. I also looked up D online and found two listings in the area. The one in East Longmeadow is Sandy’s parents, which I verified by calling last night. I called and a woman answered. I asked for Clara and she said, “Yeah,” then I mumbled Larry and Sandy’s names and hung up.

I’m sure she called them to see if they were OK. There was an Agawam listing for a James D and I’m pretty sure that’s Sandy’s brother. They’ll both be getting similar letters all about what a fucking asshole Larry is. I know they’ll tell Larry that they got their letters. That’s a done deal. But will they show it to him or read it to him? I hope so! I also hope he’ll want to listen to the tape to see what I might be saying to other people, but with my shit luck, Larry just won’t be that curious and will never read one word of the letters or hear one word of the tape. That doesn’t change the principle of the point – letting him know I’m still out here, still hate his guts, and that I’ll always be a problem for him. Hell, he’s lucky, cuz I’d be more than just an annoyance for him if we lived close to each other. I’d be his worst nightmare! Me sending the letters to these people, even if he’s not exactly close to these people, should piss him the fuck off. As much as I’m anxious to get these letters and the tape off in the mail, I’ll probably wait till I send Dureen, Art and Tammy their pictures. If I send the tape and letters now, it may cause Dureen and Art not to even open my mail if they get that pissed over it, cuz you know Larry’s gonna call them and bitch about it that very day. They may not have the guts at that point to open any mail from me for fear of what may be enclosed. That’s OK. I don’t mind waiting. Good things are worth waiting for.

Later…

Fucking Cybertrails! They’re as bad as AOL was for a while. Most of the time I can’t get online. I’ll try around midnight tonight. Hopefully, I’ll not only be able to get on then, but I’ll be able to get the schedule, too.

It’s 86 degrees outside and 82 degrees inside. It doesn’t feel like it’s that much in here, though. It feels like it’s 75 degrees in here.

I had a craving for fruit so I had Tom get me watermelon, strawberries, blueberries, and kiwi when he stopped at the store. The kiwis are a bitch to peel. No wonder I don’t get them that often.

Thank God we won’t be in Phoenix for this 3-day Memorial Day weekend that’s coming up. Thank God! How I dreaded this particular holiday in Phoenix! Although the Mexicans were quiet for the last Memorial Day weekend they were next to us, and I don’t remember too much of a ruckus from the blacks. Even so, I don’t expect this place to be without music. The only difference is that I’ll hear the beat of the music faintly. It won’t sound like someone’s trying to hammer our walls down. And I won’t be able to hear any people or dogs. Just the beat of Dan’s music. Or someone else’s. Probably Dan’s, though.

Well, I don’t feel like reading, I don’t feel like working on another story, I don’t have anything more to say here, I don’t have any letters to do, there’s nothing on TV at the moment I care to see, so I’ll go row. I may even work out too, although today’s not a workout day. I’m just so glad I’ve finally found something I can stick to. It may not bring me the results I’d like, but it’s still something I can stick to. I got so sick of the floor work after a few weeks or so and just totally lost interest and motivation.

Friday, May 26, 2000

The Memorial Day weekend is starting early from what I heard. When I got up at 10:00 and turned off the fan I could hear the faint beat of music and I was like – you gotta be kidding me! Thanks, God. Thanks a real lot. I expected music tonight, Saturday night and Sunday night, but Friday morning? Anyway, it only lasted two minutes and again, I’m virtually certain it was that boom car stereo Tom says can’t live out here. Well, it probably doesn’t or else I’d hear it every day, but it sure visits a lot. The reason I’m sure it was a car is because of the way the volume faded in and out and because it only lasted a couple of minutes. Usually, when someone turns on a house stereo or radio, it’s for more than a couple of minutes. Again, I’m pretty sure it was coming from the front, too. I just thank God we’re not in Phoenix, but of course there wasn’t too much of a ruckus from the Mexicans last Memorial Day weekend. That’s because they weren’t there yet. I remembered after my last entry that they didn’t move in till June 1st. So, in less than a week they’ll have been freeloading it for one year. Well, in the house, that is. I’m sure they’ve been on welfare and ripping the state off for years.

I see Gophie now, so I’m gonna go give her a bite to eat.

Later...

Gave her some lettuce this time around. It was last week’s lettuce for the animals that are just starting to wilt and it’s more than she can eat, but maybe the rabbits will eat it, too. It’s biodegradable, so it’s OK. Whatever doesn’t get eaten will dry up and disintegrate like old leaves. She just popped up out of her hole and is attacking the lettuce now. She’s gotten to be more trusting. She used to stay in her hole for about fifteen minutes after I’d return to the house after dumping her some food, but now she’s back out in five minutes. I put the lettuce by her hole, but not too close to it in case there’s a snake that may jump out at me, although I doubt she’d be near where a snake was. Still, I always take precautions. Anyway, it’s cute how she jumps out of her hole, runs and grabs a piece of lettuce, then runs to eat it by her hole so she can hop down into it if something dangerous comes by.

Speaking of a certain indoor pet that just won’t stay home, Houdini is the perfect name for him. Sometimes you’ve got to have a pet for a while to come up with the best name for them. Well, Houdini certainly suits this guy. I put him in the big cage last night, along with Ratsy, figuring that even though he is growing, he could still escape, but probably wouldn’t do so till after I went to bed. This time, though, I put food and water outside the cage for him, lifted Ciara’s outer skirts, and blocked off the retreat and my office. Sure enough, I found him in his favorite spot in the closet when I got up, then I put him back in the big cage. He didn’t fight me, either. He let me pick him right up. Because rats are normally nocturnal, including this one, I figured he’d sleep and not escape again till tonight, but I was wrong about that. I walked by a little later and found him sitting by his cage, and boy did he want to play! He ran around his cage and climbed around and under me. I put him back in the cage and found him out again when I was on my way to pee. I went and peed, which he had to follow me to do, then decided it was time to tank him. He’s still wound up too, running on the wheel. I don’t know what’s got him all hyped up today.

There’s a quail hanging out by the bush the iguanas used to live under. Now they seem to be living under the bush by the bedroom.

They still haven’t updated Carol’s schedule and I don’t know if they’re going to do it later today or if they’re going to do it later this month. The last time they updated it, they did it on the 26th. Maybe they don’t do it the same day every month.

Later…

My God! Today this rat’s as dayturnal as Gophie and gerbils are. I just put him back in the big cage to see what he would do. He escaped instantly and ran under the bed, which I shooed him out of, and into the closet to his favorite spot behind my guitars. Then I made sure he heard my footsteps walking away, then quickly and quietly I tiptoed back and lay on the bed where I could see under the closet door. I wanted to see if he’d stay there and go to sleep, or if he wanted to explore. As I figured he would, he stuck his head out from under the door and saw me right away. Then I went into the closet cuz he had run back to his hiding spot. I sat down on the floor and he walked up to me. Then I picked him up and re-tanked him. He’s still too hyped up to go to sleep anywhere.

I forgot to mention the dream I had earlier. I dreamt I weighed 115 pounds. Is this a sign of weight loss to come? Well if it is, it hasn’t happened yet cuz I’m still 122 pounds. The thing about it is that I dreamt about gaining weight before I gained it the first time around, after quitting smoking. I think I had dreams about losing it too, before I lost it, although I can’t remember for sure. I’m not going to get my hopes up, but we’ll just see what happens. At this point, especially after working out now for nearly 7 weeks, I think I’ll always bounce between 122-125 and that I’ll never lose the 2 inches from my thighs and the 3 inches from my tits and hips and the 6 inches from my waist that I’d like to lose.

Later…

This has been the most erratic period I’ve ever had, with such a slow start and a slow ending. Never have I had such intermittent cramps, bleeding and spotting. It starts and stops, starts and stops. Since when do I spot for a few days after my period? That’s something I usually do before my period. Maybe this is when God has something go wrong so I need a hysterectomy. Or maybe this really is normal for me. Who knows? I still don’t get why it was so important to God that I ended up with a man if he knew he didn’t want me to have kids. Not that I regret meeting and marrying Tom for an instant, but why was my true love fated to be a man? Why couldn’t I have had what I have with Tom with a woman? I’m sure I’ll wonder about this for the rest of my life.

I think I’ll go see if the new schedule is posted yet, but I doubt I’ll be able to get online. Between noon and 9 PM, getting online is impossible.

Later…

Cool! For the first time ever, I see three Gophies out there! Two big ones and a baby one. No wonder all that lettuce got eaten so fast.

It’s a scorcher out there now at 112 degrees. Gonna try again to get online to get the schedule, but I doubt I can get on now.

His mom offered to pay for us to have the trailer moved out here, making it more possible. How generous! That’d be wonderful of her.

Later…

Yes! Office Killer and When a Stranger Calls Back are on this month (got the schedule a couple of hours ago)!

Saturday, May 27, 2000

When I got up this morning, the first thing I did before getting my coffee was go into the closet to pull Houdini out and put him back in his tank. Again, he didn’t fight me. It’s amazing how he stands still and lets me pick him right up. I don’t put him in the big cage till around 8:00–9:00 and he doesn’t bother trying to escape till after I go to bed because he wants to play with Ratsy during those hours.

Thank God I’m not in Phoenix now! I’ll especially be thankful I’m not there on Monday.

Tom told me that somewhere in the Midwest or the East, a 13-year-old boy was sent home from school for being disruptive. A while later, he returned to school with a gun, said something to his teacher, then shot him in the face. That’s your all-American kid for you. It seems that once we hit the 90s, kids went downhill. That’s because the parents got worse and worse. I asked Tom if the kid was white and he said they didn’t say. Not that white kids aren’t bad enough themselves, but this sounds kind of blackish to me. I think shooting up teachers is a black thing. And the sad thing about it is that this kid’s not gonna be tried as an adult. It’ll be put in a school similar to Valleyhead, although it’ll probably have its windows barred, and it’ll be free by the time it’s 21.

I didn’t bother weighing in this morning or taking measurements like I have been for the last six Saturdays or so, because I know I’m still right about where I usually am. I know I’m 122-124 pounds, and my thighs are 22-23, my hips and tits are about 37, and my waist is 29-30.

Got another doll poster for my office wall yesterday. An Indian girl doll that’s pretty nice. I like having these doll posters. It not only makes for good decoration, but it’s almost like having these extra dolls that I don’t have and I don’t have to dust them or worry about breaking them.

Later…

We haven’t even been here six months and we already have a boom car stereo driving by regularly, just as I predicted. Thanks, God. Thanks a lot. Sure, it’s not nearly as loud as the boom car stereos that’d drive by in Phoenix, and sure, we don’t have to listen to people screaming, balls bouncing, and dogs barking, but the point of the matter still stands – I don’t want to know others exist when I’m in my own home and I don’t want to hear anyone else’s music but my own. This time I saw the car. It was a red car that came up from the front bedroom side of the house and drove up Meadow Green, the bedroom side of the house. As far as I could tell, it passed the renters. Of course the drivers were cocks and of course they just had to be blacks or Mexicans too, from what I could tell. Tom still swears that by the end of June, the stereo will either be broken, or they’ll get sick of driving on these roads if they want to keep it working. But it’s now become rather obvious that they live here. I’ve heard them too many times now for them to be just visitors. They live here and no one who’s into attention-getting stereos like that is going to just give that up, nor can they necessarily just up and move as soon as the thing breaks. Moving takes money and if they just moved into the area, and obviously they did, they’re not going to want to move again so soon, so they’ll just keep fixing the fucking thing. Although, I don’t believe Tom when he says they’re that sensitive. I think they can stand up to these roads just fine and even if they couldn’t and the stereo broke and they didn’t fix it, some other boom car stereo will drive by regularly enough. God will see to it. It’s in my cards. I’m destined to be forever stuck with these stereos and eventually, they’ll get tougher and tougher and louder and louder, so it’ll be as loud as it was in Phoenix without having to drive right up to the house. The good thing about it is that because they have to drive so slow on these bumpy roads (some of them are graded well enough to go 65 MPH on and some aren’t and you have to creep) is that I’ve got a good two minutes or so warning when they’re approaching. I can hear them for a couple of minutes before they get up to the house. Plenty of time to be waiting for them. What’s to say they can’t have a little meeting with me? Hee, hee! I told Tom I wasn’t kissing ass out here and I meant it. I’ll take care of anyone or anything that becomes a problem around here. I lived how others lived in Phoenix, but this time around, we’re gonna do things my way. So, come July 1st, when they’re still banging by like Tom says they won’t be, I’ll arrange a private little get-together with these cocks.

Tomorrow, Tom’s going to meet Mary and Dave at Fry’s Electronics store and pick us out a new TV all the while they get badgered and harassed by salespeople. I opted to stay home since I can’t stand crowds and pesky, pushy sales reps. Mary and Dave are going to waste their time and gas following Tom home to help him carry in the TV. I appreciate their taking the time to be helpful, and I know Mary’s old-fashioned in the sense that she thinks men should do the carrying, but I’m just as capable as any of the guys. I can help my husband myself just fine.

Later…

Our blasting boys haven’t been by again yet. They probably went into the city to do some drug dealing or to get wasted at a friend’s house, but they’ll return at some point today. At least they won’t be in and out every 45 minutes like the Mexicans were. The only thing that makes no sense is that so far I haven’t heard them more than once in a day. Well, wouldn’t I have to hear them at least twice if they went out once; when they left and when they returned? Maybe I was listening to music and missed one of their attention calls.

When I called Tom in to check them out as they were going by the bedroom, he tried to convince me that he couldn’t hear their music, but he had to have heard it. Why does he do these things; try to tell me something is when it really isn’t, or vice versa? He’d have to be deaf not to hear it, even if it wasn’t nearly as loud as in Phoenix. He also tried to tell me a few times he didn’t see or hear the sickos when I knew that couldn’t be.

Later…

I just looked back, and if this is the same car I’ve been hearing, we heard them on April 15th, then again on May 7th, then nearly every day since the 21st. Sounds like someone started visiting someone then moved in with them, or was having a place prepped and now they’re fully moved in. This proves Tom doesn’t know what he’s talking about if it truly is the same stereo, but we’ll see for sure over the next few weeks. I think it’ll be an everyday thing until I put a stop to it, and believe me, I’m only too happy to do so!

Later…

I can’t believe this dryer doesn’t buzz when it stops. It’s a pretty good dryer too, that you’d think would have that, but it doesn’t.

Tom’s dozed off on the couch right now. Let me guess – tomorrow evening we’ll get together for a boring, predictable round of sex, huh? And let me guess some more – he’ll either not want to go inside, or he will, but he won’t cum, right?

Life may be full of surprises, but our sex certainly isn’t!

Later…

Haven’t heard anything else, but the long weekend is still young, and the day is still early. If people are gonna blast music, they’re likely not to start till nighttime when the weather’s cooler and they can open their windows and doors to let the sound out.

I can’t wait to finally send these pictures off to Tammy, Doe and Art and to be done with them. I just want to rub this new house and things like that in their faces, and I can’t wait to send off Larry and his associate’s mail, too. Wish I could be there to see his reaction! The last time I said I was sending shit to people he knows, I bluffed him. So, just when he thinks I wouldn’t do that, here he’ll be getting two phone calls all about the mail they received. I just hope they read it to him or at least tell him the contents of the letter in enough detail. And I hope to hell he hears that tape, too. I wonder if he’ll try to do something about it like look up those with my last name in Phoenix and send them mail. Well, if he does, he’ll have an awful lot of mail to send out, cuz there’s a zillion people with my name. He does what he does, but nothing he can do can get to me the way I can get to him. What can he do? Take me to court? Have me thrown in jail? The funny farm? There’s just nothing he can do. This isn’t mail between non-related people where a white person refers to blacks and Mexicans using nasty words, after being harassed by them with noise. The police are gonna give him the same brush-off they gave me if he goes to them as when I tried to call his local police department and bitch about him making prank calls to me. They’re less hesitant to get involved when it’s family, and all they’ll do is tell him what they told me – she’s on the other side of the country. The cop I spoke to did say he’d call him and tell him to knock it off, but I don’t believe for a minute that he really did. Of course, there’s always the chance that Larry recognizes my handwriting on the envelope, although I tried to disguise it, and ditches it right then and there. Who knows? He may even be afraid to bother opening things with no return address. Whatever happens - the ball’s now in my court and I hold the threat over him. He’s completely powerless against me. There’s nothing he can do to ruin me or hurt me in any way, but there’s plenty I could do to him.

Later…

Not surprisingly, Dan’s place is all lit up. If he’s blaring music, I wouldn’t know it, cuz I have my own on right now.

Thank God I’m not in Phoenix!

Later…

Just added Jenny’s father to my mailing list. Yeah, I went online and looked up her last name and of course Jenny wasn’t listed, but her father was. He’s in the same house they’ve been in for nearly 20 years in West Springfield. Her father has got to be really old now. I know her folks were older than mine. He must be in his 70s. Anyway, the idea is to piss both Jenny and Larry off with my sending the letter to him. I not only hope Jenny will read the letter, but I’m sure she will unless her dad gets so disgusted that he tears it to shreds. Anyway, I bet on the odds of her reading it and wrote at the end of the letter: shame on you for reading your dad’s mail, Jenny! The worst thing that could happen to me for this is that they send me a letter about it to our old address which will get forwarded, of course, and which I’ll have returned to sender. I’ll recognize their handwriting, and of course, they wouldn’t put a return address on the thing. God, on the other hand, is gonna get me good for this, but it’ll be worth it.

Sunday, May 28, 2000

Tom left an hour ago to meet Mary and Dave at Fry’s. They should be back around 1:30. I have mixed emotions about this arrangement. I’m grateful for the new TV, but I feel a little insulted by her insisting Dave help carry in the TV when I’m perfectly capable of helping my own husband.

Haven’t heard the boom car stereo since yesterday morning, and I doubt Dan ended up blasting off. If he did, it was for a very short time because his lights weren’t on for long at all. I was surprised.

Time to go out and feed the Gophies.

Later…

OK, I just fed them.

Houdini didn’t stick to his usual routine last night. He doesn’t usually escape till after I go to bed, but at 9:30 I caught him running around in the retreat after I had come out of my office. He was hiding under the walker (I’ll store that in the trailer). I put him back in the big cage and later found him in the closet. I put him back again and he stayed in the cage till 9:00 this morning. He probably came out looking for me wondering why I was late. Animals are pretty sensitive to time. I upped the alarm from 9:00 to 10:00 cuz I couldn’t fall asleep till 2:00, and he was probably wondering why the alarm didn’t go off at 9:00. How I know he didn’t escape till 9:00 was because Tom said that’s when he last saw him. When I got up at 10:00, he was under the walker. I had blocked off the retreat by putting a towel across the bottom of the door, but he simply clawed it away, so I made that room safe for him to hang out in. He was wound up, as usual, for a while after I tanked him, and even tried to bite Tom.

Later…

The new 25” TV is here. Sure beats our old dark 19”. It was on sale for $200 and fits in the entertainment center perfectly. Mary and Dave visited for about 20 minutes, then they took off for the casino to win another thousand dollars of money they don’t need.

Later…

Tom’s still watching the new TV. He did take a break to race his car on the computer, though. Good, this, along with his cut toe and cut face, will delay our boring sex. I don’t know how he got the cut on his toe, but he obviously got the cut on his face from shaving. I know Sunday evenings are his favorite time to screw around, but I still say I’ll get to get out of it altogether cuz of I was cramped out last weekend and not in the mood. I just wish he’d make his excuse before we bother to get into bed and go through all the bullshit motions. And I swear he wants to wear my hand out at times, making me do him by hand forfuckingever! Long after he’s hard he still has me doing him by hand, probably to make up the difference for screwing for only a few minutes, and I’m like – come on, buddy! Let’s get this over with. You’ve been hard now for ages.

It’s amazing how many channels they’ve got! Fifty channels alone for music is total overkill. I’m surprised they don’t have a channel just for commercials. A channel for current commercials, one for old commercials, and then one for each type of commercial. A channel for car commercials, one for having babies, etc.

Monday, May 29, 2000

Thank God I’m not in Phoenix! I’m surprised it hasn’t been a bit musical around here yet this weekend, but I’m sure someone will blare their music today. Either Dan will blast off, or that boom car stereo will drive by.

Anyway, Tom’s doing his favorite thing – watching TV. He did do computer stuff, though, too. Since we didn’t screw Saturday or Sunday, I guess that means we’ll have to go through the bullshit motions today. He’ll wait till he’s been up for 10-12 hours, though. He said he got up at 6:00, so I don’t expect him to make a move on me before 4:00.

I changed the animals earlier and realized it was a waste of time putting food and water outside of the cages when all Houdini has to do is go home to eat and drink. If he can get out, then he can surely get back in, and Tom verified this today. When I got up at 10:00 he was home, but Tom said he wasn’t home earlier. So, he can come and go as he pleases when he’s in that cage, but until tonight, I have him tanked.

Later…

Wow! It looks like he may not touch me at all. If he doesn’t, I’ll have mixed emotions about it. A part of me will feel like he doesn’t want me anymore or find me attractive, although who could at this day and age? A bigger part of me will be glad to get out of something so planned and predictable. If we do screw, I’ll have mixed emotions about that, too. I’ll be bored with the same old, same old, but will feel there’s still a little bit of attraction still lingering. He tells me I’m beautiful, but I think that’s just another one of his lies. What’s beautiful about me? The freckle on my shoulder?

I wrote another letter to Mom.

Maria called telling us that the water’s getting really low, so don’t forget to pick some up! Some idiot in this area, who obviously doesn’t have a well, left this message yesterday. How stupid can they be? I mean, didn’t they realize that Tom’s voice wasn’t familiar, or does Tom sound exactly like someone they know?

Later…

He finally brought up the subject of sex. Right now he’s taking the 2-3 hours he likes to digest (it used to be 1) before we screw, and waiting till the very end of his day. Maybe he wants to finish himself off in bed. That’s another thing – the sleeping together hasn’t happened and I doubt it ever will. I put the ball in his court to see what he’d do and he hasn’t said or done anything differently. I don’t think either of us wants to sleep together that bad and I also think we’re so used to the way things have been that it’s all the harder to change.

God, give me the strength to come up with an excuse every weekend! I’d just feel so guilty, although I know I shouldn’t because he wouldn’t miss the sex any more than I would. I’m just so sick of the same old, same old. It’s so damn planned and predictable and boring me to tears. I can see why so many couples cheat, only it’s for different reasons than ours. I’ve got a predictable, dry dick here that’s boring me to tears, and other women have guys that smother them. Also, they bitch about how the man gets it over within a few seconds and doesn’t take the time to do it slowly. Yeah, that’s what I’ve got with this man here, but again, the reasons are different. Other women’s men are in and out because they’re horny and want a hole to squirt in. This man’s in and out because he’s too scared to cum in a place that he doesn’t know whether or not a kid could result in.

Later…

I was right. He didn’t go inside. I asked him if it was due to my being too cramped out last week and told him that I wrote how I suspected this would happen and thought it was quite a coincidence. He swears he wasn’t copycatting me and said he wondered if my subconscious led to his not being able to go inside (meaning, maybe that caused me not to put my heart into it), although he admits he “jumped the gun” the first time around by not having me do him by hand longer. The first time around when I went to warm him up he got fairly hard, but as soon as he went to go inside, he was his usual dry, limp self. The second time around, although I thought I was doing my best, I just couldn’t get him into it and hard, so I stopped and told him I thought it was hopeless and that I was sorry I couldn’t do a better job. He then went on to say that he wanted more variety, I won’t hurt him as long as I stay away from his balls, don’t give up, and he wants me to be happy. As I bluntly told him, he couldn’t make me happy sexually, because he couldn’t and wouldn’t make the changes necessary to make me happy, but that that was OK because his happiness is more important than mine. I want him to be himself and do what makes him happy. I’ll sacrifice sexual happiness to please him because he’s worth it and I love him. But he wouldn’t be happy doing things that’d make me happy. What would make me happy would be to not know what day of the week we’re going to screw, yet I know it’ll be Saturday or Sunday, but probably Sunday at the end of his day. It’d also be nice if I never knew when he’d cum, but instead I always know he won’t. Even so, and like I told him, I know how important it is for him to be himself and do what makes him happiest and most comfortable. It’s still hard to get used to a man needing so much foreplay, I told him, and that I’ve got to keep in mind how different he is. Then he said he’s just him. He’s both. He’s himself and he’s different. We’re talking about a man, who like a woman, needs a lot of foreplay, has a lower appetite, and rarely cums.

Tuesday, May 30, 2000

It turned out to be the quietest Memorial Day weekend I’ve ever experienced out here. The Saturday morning boom car stereo was the only thing I heard. Even Dan’s place was dark and quiet last night. Makes me wonder if he finally fucked off and headed for Indiana.

I can just imagine what must’ve gone on at our old place. Must have been quite a riot, but then again, maybe not. The noise was aimed at me for the most part, so maybe they happened to simmer down once I left, but I’ll never know. I’ll never know how the Hs feel about living next to them, either. I figure there are not too many possibilities. They either don’t mind having their yard trashed and the noise to listen to (if they are up to their same old tricks), or they don’t like it, or they shut up and kept their garbage to themselves. Maybe it’s a combination of things. Meaning, maybe they are quieter, but still noisy by most people’s standards, and the Hs just don’t care.

Again I woke up at 121 pounds. Maybe that dream will turn out to be a premonition, but at the rate I’m going, if I were to be 115 pounds, that won’t be till November. It’s funny how I gained and started losing weight at the exact same time of year as the last time. The first time I gained weight (after quitting smoking), I started gaining in October and didn’t start losing until May. Same with the second time around and I also gained the same amount each time I gained weight. I peaked at a little over 125 pounds. Since I can’t muster up the willpower to eat 1000 calories a day, I upped my workouts and workout every day now. I even worked out twice yesterday.

I have a dress that I don’t need to wear a bra with when I’m around the mid-120s because it’s a snug fit at that weight. Now that I’ve dropped a bit, it’s not as tight around the chest.

Later…

Not only has my body gotten used to shitting at 121 pounds, but I just had to up and take my second dump of the day. What I wonder is – will I go back up to 125 pounds before my period?

I forgot to mention that last week I finally received a newsletter from the doll company I got some of my cheap dolls from. The dolls I got at K-Mart had a card you fill out for their club, but all their club is newsletters about other people’s collections. Like I really care? I don’t want to meet or talk to other collectors. I thought they’d send catalogs or coupons or something like that.

Houdini’s so funny. He was in his usual spot in the closet when I got up. I put him in the tank and didn’t bother to put the lid on it. I knew he could jump out, but I didn’t think he’d bother. Well, he did. He jumped out and right into the big cage.

Later…

And he jumped back out of it too, so now he’s in the tank with the lid on.

I just went out to feed our many outdoor critters. Tom said that when he was out yesterday, he saw one on each side of the house and says there are at least 6 of them around here (I know I should spell out numbers the professional way, but I’m writing a journal, not a book, so I won’t be so formal and proper).

Later…

This phone has rung the most it’s ever rung in the last couple of days. I just got an out-of-area call where the person never spoke, but I know someone was there because I could hear them before they hung up on me. I forgot to block our number when I called Sandy’s parents. I hope to hell they don’t have Caller ID.

Maria and the stupid Mexican Elena called, too. Maria’s this New York-sounding woman who thinks we sell water. Again she called saying she was low on water, and after the 3rd call from the Mexican, they finally left a message. Not much of one, though. They just made this sigh-like sound before hanging up. I could hear a radio or a TV on in the background, too. Getting 3 calls in one day is a lot, till the sales calls come in a dozen a day like they used to. I still don’t understand what it is with these people, though. Maria made it sound like she’s talked to the guy she was looking for before, so why doesn’t she realize that Tom’s voice is different? And what about these Mexicans? Shouldn’t they not recognize Tom’s voice?

It’s funny how Mary and Dave have been in this house 3 times in the 5 months we’ve been here, yet they were never at the Phoenix house in the 6 years we were there.

Later…

Oh, please! Just when I thought Dan was gone for a few months, it starts an engine-gunning spree.

Anyway, Tom’s looking into a really cool program that lets you make your own fonts. I want one that’ll let me write out the letters which I can then scan into the computer. However, having a dead scanner doesn’t help. Something’s really been cursing my computer this last month or two, and one of the many things to get fucked up is the scanner. Tom said he hasn’t figured out what’s wrong with it yet. Well, I hope he figures it out soon, cuz I have a really funny idea. The idea is to forge Andy’s handwriting, something I can do very well, from samples of stuff he’s written in a few journals of mine, and write a letter to his mother. No, I’m not gonna say anything mean, violent or sexual. I’ll just write the kind of letter Andy would really write, and then laugh over knowing how confused he’ll be when he hears about the letter he never sent. Then he’ll really wonder about his pot brain!

Wednesday, May 31, 2000

They’re back to booming again. At 10:30 I heard a slight boom. Not the kind that’s really thunderous that you can feel. This one didn’t vibrate the house. I’m surprised they’d start up again on the last day of the month. I thought they’d start up on the 1st or the 15th.

Dan only gunned his engine a few times, but even so, I’d like it better if he’d get out of here. The fewer people around, the better. If he’s still here this late in the year, I doubt he’s going to be leaving at all.

My allergies are going off starting last night, but fortunately, they’re not constant sneezing fits. Not yet, anyway. I’m just having a few sneezes here and there. Not the kind where I sneeze 20 times in a row and have to jump up to blow my nose. My nose isn’t runny. My eyes were itchy, though. I had to put some eye drops in.

When I got up I got Houdini out of the closet and put him in the tank with the lid, but as is the usual case for two hours after I’ve tanked him, he’s all wound up. I took him out a couple of times and let him run around on the bed till he tried to jump off the corner closest to the closet.

There was a Gophie by the snake hole and I brought out some food. This time she waited till after I’d stepped out the door before diving into the hole. That’s getting brave.

Maria called again today but she didn’t leave a message. Yesterday, there was a fourth call. A private number with no message. Please, God, don’t let it be that Clara got our number! Even if she did, though, I suppose it wouldn’t harm anything. Larry wouldn’t want to talk to me any more than I’d want to talk to him. I don’t think he’d even bother leaving me a fuck you message after the mail I intend to send. If anything, he’d give the number to his mommy and daddy and have them do his dirty work for him. They’d call to bitch about it. Since they probably couldn’t get the number, though, and therefore can’t call, it’ll be interesting to see if they call any other people with my last name about the letters or if they send me a letter to the old address. I just wish we’d hurry up and get that printer! I don’t want to send Larry and his associate’s mail before Doe and Art’s, cuz then Doe and Art may be too afraid to even open any mail from me.

Later…

My allergies are acting up worse, so I popped a Benadryl. However, I’m sure it’ll fail to dry up my nose and stop my sneezing, as usual. Instead, it’ll dry up my mouth and cause me to take a 1-2-hour nap. Oh well. I felt like I had to do something. So much for the cutting down on the mice space experiment. I swear you could put me in a sterile environment and I’ll still have allergy fits for no apparent reason whatsoever.

Later…

My allergies have been making me miserable all day and I wonder – am I going to have this every 2-3 weeks for the rest of my life? And if not, what will the problem be that replaces it? I’ve racked my brains trying to figure out the cause of it, but there’s no pattern. I just can’t see a cause. That leaves only one thing – God. God’s the cause of this and I hate him for it!

I decided to spread my cleaning schedule out from 3 days a week to 6 days a week, so it won’t seem so overwhelming. Here’s my plan:

Mon. - master bath Tues. - liv/my office Wed. - den/his office/guest Thurs. - second bath Fri. - kitchen/utility Sat. - laundry Sun. – bedroom/retreat