#i eventually want to get to 140 again

[torusonicpilled]

can we know more about the future au👀👀❓️

Alright I've been waiting for this, get ready for a really long lore dump... (click on keep reading so I don't clutter up the tags)

Future AU takes place 200 years after when-ever the main events of the game are. This would make Shadow 215 years old and Sonic 216 years old. Sonic: Sonic was created by a cult of former ARK scientists who wanted to create a version of Shadow specifically to be a weapon and without the Black Arms DNA. They used the DNA of a god and were successful (obviously.) However, Sonic at one point lost control of his power and destroyed everything, this event made him lose his memory. The first thing he saw when he woke up was the nature around him, creating his free-spirited nature (contrast to how Shadow woke up seeing Maria for the first time.) All this lore is here to explain why Sonic is immortal. However because Sonic is immortal and the public is unaware of this, and basically the gods have their own secret cult that gave Sonic an ultimatum. Basically he could A) Die at around 40 but keep his freedom, however the earth he loves may one day be destroyed due to the lack of him protecting it. B) He lives long enough (around 110) for people to realize he is immortal like Shadow, and not wanting to waste their best protector against the planet, seals him away, freezing him and only take him out when they need him to save them, or C) fake his death and continuing living, but lose his humanity, never being able to be “Sonic the Hedgehog” again. Sonic also never made this choice, as Shadow was the one who decided. Shadow feels guilt over this even if Sonic has gotten over it at this point. 

Sonic goes through a major depression in the years 110-150, as he basically loses his identity and is struggling with that. Sonic eventually finds some old outfit Shadow has in the closet, and uses it to become a masked figure called “S.” He now saves people under S, his speed being from “technology” and a voice modulator hiding his voice. Sonic is insanely powerful in the future, so people start equating him to a “legendary hero” who only appears when a threat too strong shows up. (like how Silver acted when talking about Whisper in IDW #8.) 

Sonic still has a lot of his immature traits personality wise, however he is a lot smarter when it comes to combat, having experience in situations, as well as being extremely overpowered. 

Shadow: Due to Shadow being the ultimate lifeform, he’s allowed to still be in public and shows his face. Shadow leaves G.U.N after Rouge retires, as Team Dark disbands. Once Rouge dies, Shadow spends a lot of time with Sonic, as Sonic is going through it being dead in all but name. 

Around 130-140, Shadow created “Maria’s Solutions,” his own private organization for helping people. Shadow is someone people go to when people can’t go to police or other organizations for help. He accepts help from almost any client, however he is often avoided by the worst as his power is terrifying. Shadow is now a detective, negotiator, and bounty hunter all in one, as he is more knowledgeable and collected now. 

After Eggman's death, Shadow adopted Sage at his request, not having it in him to bring her offline. Sage has a duplicate robot body but she prefers to spend time with him on Shadow's phone. She helps him out in missions, with hacking and tech related problems. 

Shadow has other employees for Maria’s Solutions, however I’m still working on them. Main ideas include an innocent girl similar to Maria he’s taken a soft spot to, a robot like Omega who works as a maid around their house, etc. 

Silver: Silver will occasionally come back to check in on Shadow. Due to the deal they made, Silver can’t know Sonic is alive. However, due to a mishap, Silver finds out and becomes friends with S. Sonic likes spending more time with Silver so he hides this fact from Shadow, sometimes going on missions with Silver. 

Other info

Sonic and Shadow aren’t important to this world. Lots of organizations and people fight in this world, thus leaving Sonic to deal with world ending threats and Shadow his clients. Organizations include

Technology conglomerates

A church that worships Gaia

The restoration

Militaries

Sonic and Shadow are married with rings pierced in their ears, however they do not like to define relationships. 

Anyone who Shadow trusts enough will meet Sonic by accident, but calls him “S” either way. 

Knuckles can be spoken too by connecting with the master emerald, which is underneath Sonic and Shadow’s house in an underground facility. 

Tails reincarnates when he dies with an extra tail, however he gets his memories from his last 100 years only if he meets Sonic. They don’t meet until 130ish, where Sonic agrees to wait until Tails is 20 every time before he hunts for him. (this part I’m still working on.)

Sonic is a jack of all trades who can use any weapon to fight as he likes to switch it up. Shadow uses a gun and sword combo along with his chaos abilities. 

AU is more comedic despite the somber tone, as Sonic and Shadow are still Sonic and Shadow at the end of the day.

Well that was a lot but if you want more info send me another ask with more questions for me to answer

[dukestags]

Quiet Corners & Gentle Giants part 2

Simon 'ghost' Riley x trans male reader.

Warnings: SMUT, Breeding, size kink, overstimulation, praise, light bondage, passing out, eating out( male reader), the mr genitals being called 'boy pussy' and 'cunt, body worshipping, fluff at first.

Summary: your man is starved as fuck.

Being in a relationship with Simon Riley came with its surprises.

You’d expected the silence. The dry humor. The occasional awkward tension where feelings tried to sneak in and he acted like they weren’t there until they had to be acknowledged.

What you hadn’t expected?

How clingy he could be.

It started slow—brushes of fingers on your shoulder, a warm hand lingering on your back a little longer after missions. Then came the quiet evenings on the couch, when he'd rest his hand on your thigh, thumb rubbing small circles while you read or scrolled through your phone.

But now?

Now you were trapped.

Under nearly 140 kilos of muscled man who refused to move.

“Simon,” you mumbled, voice slightly muffled against his shoulder. “You’re crushing me.”

“Not true,” came the grumble, deeper than usual, muffled in your shirt. “You're warm. Perfect insulation.”

He was sprawled on top of you, chest to chest, legs tangled with yours on the narrow bed in your shared quarters. You’d gotten exactly one minute to get comfortable before he planted himself on you like a weighted blanket with trust issues.

And he wasn’t budging.

“Need to breathe, y’know,” you said, though your arms were still snug around his shoulders.

He shifted only slightly to rest more of his weight on the mattress instead of your ribs, then sighed—deep and satisfied—into the crook of your neck.

“You smell nice,” he muttered.

You blinked. “...What?”

“Like that soap. The lavender one. Makes my head quiet.”

Your heart fluttered like a bird on caffeine.

You tilted your head to look at him, brushing a thumb along the back of his neck. His eyes were half-lidded now, mask off, completely relaxed. No tension in his jaw. No lines in his brow. Just Simon. Soft, sleepy, and ridiculously affectionate.

“You’re really not letting me up, are you?”

“Not unless you really need to pee.”

You snorted, earning a pleased grunt from him.

Your fingers moved up into his hair, slow and gentle. He made a quiet, almost embarrassed sound, then pressed closer. His arms tightened around your waist, like he was afraid you’d slip away if he let go.

You kissed his temple, soft and slow.

“Y’know, for someone who once scared the hell out of me, you're basically a giant teddy bear.”

“Don’t ruin my image,” he mumbled into your chest. “I’ve got a reputation.”

“Right. Terrifying, silent, and secretly obsessed with forehead kisses.”

“Only yours.”

Your breath caught, but you smiled—small and warm. You kissed the top of his head again and held him closer.

He sighed, melting further into your chest like he wanted to crawl under your skin and stay there.

Eventually, your back started to cramp a little. You shifted beneath him. “Si…”

“Nope,” he muttered. “Cuddle protocol. I say when it ends.”

“And when’s that?”

He looked up at you, eyes half-lidded but entirely sincere.

“Never, if I can help it.”

You don't really know what started it but when he shifted a bit. You kissed him on the lips and it slowly turned into a more heated make out session.

It started slow.

Soft kisses traded in the dim light of your shared room, Simon’s hand curled gently around your hip as he kissed you like you were something fragile—something treasured.

And you were trembling.

Not because of nerves about the act itself—you trusted Simon. Fully. Deeply. It was you. Your body. Your scars. The history etched into your skin that had always made you flinch under too much attention.

When his hand ghosted under your shirt and over your chest, you froze.

Simon pulled back instantly, eyes scanning your face.

“Hey,” he murmured, voice low and warm. “Talk to me, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t meet his eyes.

“I… just—” you swallowed, voice barely a whisper, “I want this. I really do. Just... sometimes it’s hard to feel good about myself. I know what I look like. I know I’m not—”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” he interrupted gently, but firmly. He cupped your face in both hands, thumb brushing your cheek. “You’re beautiful. Everything about you. You don’t have to hide from me. Ever.”

You looked up at him, eyes searching, and this time you let him pull your shirt off.

His gaze was reverent—not hungry, not shocked. Worshipful.

He kissed each scar over your chest with aching tenderness, pausing between each one to murmur soft praise:

“Brave…”

“Strong…”

“Perfect…”

Your throat tightened. You’d never felt seen like this.

When his lips began trailing lower, down your stomach, his hands gently spreading your legs, a shiver raced through you.

“Simon—”

“You’re gonna let me take care of you,” he said, voice like thunder wrapped in silk. “Gonna lie back and let me show you how perfect this body is.”

And he did.

Simon dropped between your thighs like a man starved. His tongue was everywhere—broad, firm strokes mixed with teasing flicks and deep, hungry sucks. He moaned against you like you were the best thing he’d ever tasted, hands locked around your thighs, keeping you open and trembling for him.

You gasped, grabbing the sheets, hips twitching.

“S-Si—fuck, I—!”

“Give it to me,” he growled between licks. “Let me have it. You’re doing so good.”

When you came, it hit so hard your legs shook.

And Simon didn’t stop.

He kept going, licking you through it, overstimulating you with slow, dragging passes of his tongue that had you whimpering—sensitive, flushed, already lightheaded from the intensity.

By the time he finally pulled back, his chin was slick, and his eyes were nearly black with heat.

Then you saw him stroke himself—slow, with a low hiss through his teeth—and your eyes widened.

“Simon,” you croaked, blinking. “Ain’t no way that’ll fit.”

He huffed a laugh, leaning over you to kiss your jaw. “It’ll fit. I’ll make sure it does. I’ll go slow. Stretch you out nice ‘n easy, baby boy. You trust me?”

You nodded, breathless.

His prep was thorough. Simon was patient—soothing you through every stretch, whispering praise the entire time.

“That’s it, sweetheart…”

“You’re takin’ me so well…”

“Made for me, weren’t you?”

When he finally pushed in, you gasped—*full*, stretched around the sheer size of him.

“F-Fuck—Simon—”

“Shh, I’ve got you.” He kissed your temple, rocked his hips in slow, shallow rolls. “You feel like heaven. So tight. So good. Gonna fill you up, yeah?”

Your legs wrapped around his waist before you even realized you’d moved. You were moaning freely now, each thrust hitting deep, Simon holding your hips steady, kissing your chest and murmuring filth against your skin.

“Gonna stuff you full…”

“Put it so deep no one else’ll ever touch you like this…”

“Gonna breed this pretty body over and over…”

You cried out, clinging to him, overwhelmed and loving it.

When you came again—body taut and overstimulated—it triggered Simon’s own release. He buried himself to the hilt, groaning low in your ear as he pulsed deep inside you.

“Fuck… fuck, that’s it,” he growled. “Take it. Take all of it.” You felt everything. The warmth, the weight, the raw intensity of being wanted so deeply.

And when he collapsed on top of you, still panting, he didn’t pull out. Just wrapped you up in his arms and buried his face in your neck.

“Was that… okay?” you asked, voice small.

He nuzzled you. Kissed your jaw.

“Better than okay,” he murmured. “You’re everything, darling.”

And he didn’t move. Not for a long time. Till he started up again.

You’d lost count of how many times he made you come.

The sheets were ruined—drenched, wrinkled, clawed. Your body trembled beneath Simon as he loomed over you, chest slick with sweat, eyes dark and utterly wild. His hands were firm on your hips, pinning you in place while your legs shook and your back arched involuntarily with every deep thrust.

Your voice was raw from crying out his name—slurred and ruined now into broken syllables and whines.

“S-Si… Simon, I can’t— I c-can’t anymore, I—!”

“Yes, you can,” he growled, voice like gravel dragged over fire. “You’ll take what I give you. You’re not done until I say.”

He didn’t stop. Didn’t slow.

Every thrust was punishing—deep, bruising, precise. He fucked you like you were his to ruin. And you were. The way he looked at you, like you were the most sacred, filthy, precious thing in the world—there was no mistaking it.

When you tried to squirm away, overstimulated and dizzy, he caught your wrists easily and growled into your ear.

“Quit runnin’, baby boy.”

He reached for the belt at the edge of the bed—his belt. Thick, leather, and already coiled like he knew he’d need it tonight.

Before you could even form words, he had your wrists bound and pinned above your head. You were splayed out—open, exposed, wrecked. And he was eating up the sight of you like a starving man.

“You see yourself?” he rasped, thrusting hard enough to make the bed creak beneath you. “Takin’ me so well. All of me. Every fuckin’ inch—”

Your eyes rolled back as he hit that spot again, and your whole body convulsed with another orgasm. You didn’t even know it was coming until you were crying out, tears slipping down your flushed cheeks.

Simon didn’t slow.

He leaned down, voice sharp against your throat. “That’s it. Let me feel that pretty boy pussy of yours squeeze me again. Fuckin’ addicted to this body, sweetheart.”

You sobbed through the pleasure. It hurt—burned—but it felt so good. His cock filled you completely, impossibly deep, thick and perfect inside you. You’d thought it wouldn’t fit.

Now you craved it.

And he knew it.

He licked the sweat from your collarbone, mouth dragging over the scars on your chest, then bit down hard enough to mark.

“Gonna fuck you until you forget your own name,” he hissed. “Until you know who owns you.”

Your tied wrists pulled uselessly at the belt above you, your thighs trembling, slick dripping down onto the sheets.

“Please,” you whimpered, not even knowing what you were begging for anymore.

And Simon—Ghost—smirked.

“There’s my good boy.”

He shifted, pressing your knees up, deeper, harder. His hand came down to stroke you in time with his thrusts—relentless, practiced, cruel in how good it felt.

Your moans were hoarse now—shaky, breathless gasps and high-pitched whines that only made him fuck you harder. Your body was collapsing under the waves of pleasure. Your brain was *gone*—overwhelmed, floating somewhere between bliss and blackout.

Then—

One more orgasm. It hit like a bomb. You screamed. Your whole body seized, back arching off the bed—

And then—

Nothing.

---

You passed out mid-orgasm, body twitching in aftershock.

Simon didn’t notice at first.

He was too deep in it—growling through his own release, spilling into you for what must’ve been the third time. His hips jerked, ropes of cum flooding your already-dripping hole.

He collapsed over you, panting, eyes hooded—

And then realized.

You’d gone limp.

Your chest still rose and fell, soft and steady. But you were completely, blissfully unconscious.

Simon froze. “…Fuck.”

His hand cradled your cheek instantly, lips brushing over your temple. His voice dropped to a whisper—still rough, but now tinted with guilt and awe.

“You took it all, baby boy… fuckin’ hell. You did so good.”

He gently undid the belt from your wrists, kissing the red marks it left.

He cleaned you up slowly, reverently. Wrapped you in his arms and held you close against his chest beneath warm blankets. His thumb brushed your scar again as he whispered against your hair.

“My good boy… mine.”

You didn’t stir for a long time.

But when you did, barely conscious, dazed beyond reason, the only word you could mumble was his name.

“…Simon…”

And he kissed your forehead, heart thudding hard against yours.

“I’m here,” he said, soft and steady. “Not goin’ anywhere.”

[kymtym]

Strawberry Jam

I make this often and it's the best jam I've ever had.

INGREDIENTS:

3 pounds (1.360kg) strawberries, trimmed and quartered

3 cups (710 ml) granulated sugar

Juice of 1 lemon

TOOLS

a wide pot with a lid

A silicone spatula / scraper

A stove (range?)

A big spoon for stirring and scooping

A small spoon for testing readiness

A glass or ceramic plate to test readiness

A freezer (for the plate)

EITHER a potato masher OR an immersion blender (stick blender?)

A container to put the finished product in. This recipe is not shelf stable, the jam will need to go in the fridge.

Early in the day, combine all ingredients in the pot. It may seem like too much sugar, but don't worry. Mix it up with the silicone spatula, put a lid on it, and leave it in the kitchen. Every now and then, give it another mix. I just leave the spatula in the pot, the lid is just to keep and dust and the cats out of the mix. The sugar will eventually draw out a bunch of juice from the strawberries and you will be left with a pot of strawberries in syrup. This will take hours. If you scrape the bottom of the pot and no longer feel grainy sugar and you're no longer able to pull up any sugar, you're ready to cook it.

Put the plate in the freezer.

Mash or blend your syrup-strawberry mix to your desired smoothness. It will get thicker as it cooks, so keep that in mind. I blend the life out of the strawberries because I like for it to be easy to spread on toast, my sister likes for the to still be strawberry chunks, so when I make it for her I just use the potato masher.

Turn on the heat! Boil it! Stir almost constantly. My recent batch took just under an hour to cook all the way. Once it starts boiling, turn the heat down to medium-low, I did like a 3 out of 10. If you stop stirring, goopy bubbles should appear like a slow motion boil. You will have like a pink foam on the top of the mix from the boiling. After about 30 minutes, the bubbling should be thicker and goopier. After about 40 minutes, the pink foam should almost go away when you stir the mix, like you can almost stir the bubbles into the mix.

Pull the plate out of the freezer and use the small spoon to spread a little bit of the mix onto the plate in a stripe. Hold the plate vertically so the stripe goes left to right. If the stripe immediately starts to drip down the plate, the mix isn't done yet, put the plate back in the freezer and keep cooking. Try again in like 5-10 minutes. If the mix DOESN'T immediately start dripping down the plate, turn the plate so the stripe goes up and down and swipe your finger through the stripe from leg to right (or right to left). The jam is done cooking when the stripe made from your finger through the stripe of mix holds and doesn't fill with dripping mix.

(If you have a candy thermometer, the jam is done when it reaches 220°f or 104°c)

CAREFULLY pour or scoop the jam into your preferred container. This jam is HOT and STICKY so please treat it like lava. This stuff is hotter than boiling water and will stick to you until you wash it off, don't let it touch your skin.

3 pounds of strawberries makes about 3 pint jars of jam with a little bit of room at the top of the jars. If you want to, you can properly can it and make it shelf-stable until it's opened, but I've never done that so your on your own. I just keep them in my fridge or give them to friends and neighbors.

I'm lucky enough to have a huge strawberry festival nearby every March. 20 pounds lasts me and my husband a year of jam, sorbet and cheung. I get them home, give them a vinegar bath, and trim them up before measuring out a bunch of one pound bags that I vacuum seal and freeze, and some 5 ounce (140 gram) servings for sorbet, also sealed and frozen.

Let me know if anyone wants the sorbet or cheug recipes.

Have fun! Be careful! Enjoy!

[farmhandler]

I have no update today...so have this scene from later in the ch instead

---

“Cable cares about you,” Logan said eventually. “I appreciate that about the guy.”

“Is that affection I detect?”

“Don’t get carried away, bub.”

“He cares about you, too,” Wade said.

Logan snorted. “Uh huh.”

“I mean it!” Wade turned halfway in Logan's lap, careful not to scrape anything sensitive on his jeans. “He asks how you’re doing. It’s caring in a...controlling uncle kind of way.”

Logan slapped his palm over Wade’s thigh. “I age him by about 140 years.”

Wade fully abandoned his cereal to look in Logan’s eyes.

“Can we invite him over?”

Logan chewed slowly. “You don’t need my permission to invite your friends.”

“I mean invite him in the context of you also being involved in the situation. What do normal people do, dinner?” Logan leaned back, popped another dough ball in his mouth, and crossed his arms, so Wade added, “I want him to know things are…fine. He gets these ugly looks in his glowing eye that I can’t stand when he starts forming opinions.”

Logan kept chewing. Wade was officially regretting the eye contact, but he couldn’t look away or he’d lose.

“He won’t leave me the fuck alone otherwise?” Wade tried.

Logan’s warm palm settled on Wade's naked back.

“Yeah. All right, sure.”

He looked away, tapping something on his phone, then set it on the table in front of Wade. If Wade hadn’t looked at his screen before it blinked away, he might not have seen it. Wade did a double take and tapped it to bring it up again.

“What the fuck is that?” Wade asked flatly. He restored the eye contact.

Logan followed his gaze and had the audacity to look confused. “What is what?”

“That. That fucking picture on your screen. That wasn't there last night.”

“The background? That’s your face.” Logan leaned back, re-crossing his arms and adding gruffly, “Remembered to add it this morning. Laura taught me how to change the background a while ago.”

That made it somehow worse. It wasn’t just Wade’s face.

“Why that photo?” Wade asked.

“Wade,” Logan drawled.

“I’m serious! I’m not even making a goofy expression. That would make sense. I look…”

It wasn’t just Wade’s face. It was a closeup, with Wade’s face dead and center on his screen. And he hadn’t been caught with a horrifying yet hilarious expression; he was smiling. Wade had no idea where or how Logan had taken that photo.

Fuck, he looked happy.

“It’s a good photo," Logan said. "You look fucking adorable. The fuck’s wrong with that? It’s my phone.”

“You actually think that,” Wade said, his tone demanding an answer.

“Yeah,” Logan said. “I do think that. You have a really fucking cute smile. I like opening my phone and seeing your face whenever I want.”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for wanting a 200$ refund on a 400$ model that was REALLY below par in both quality and customer service?

This was one of my first monetary experiences with my own credit card and account, to preface.

So, I'm learning SFM and have regular dates with my boyfriend in vrchat. Between the two of us we knew enough to make models of myself in both, but not enough to make one for my headmate that me and her would both be satisfied with.

TL;DR, the first modeler we went to cancelled after we proved too impatient for them and they didn't need the comm money, so we put out a post calling for 3d models and asked our moots to spread it on here and on Twitter.

Eventually, we found a few artists that were within our post-high-school graveyard shift budget, but then an artist appeared in our asks that was interested in our order. Now, from the very BEGINNING they were blaring Sus alarms in our head with how they typed, their profile, their portfolio, the whole thing, but we still talked with them about it and eventually got to dming on discord over it.

We agreed on 350 with a down payment for the model, and she went to work. Somewhere along the line it increased to 400 with a down payment but I don't remember the circumstances for why.

I was a little impatient at times, but she still did good work, even if she misinterpreted our suggestions sometimes and was high at least once when we asked for an update.

We'd assumed that she would rig it for SFM and VRC as a part of the main payment. She then told us it would cost extra for the rigging.

We were understandably miffed but she justified it with money problems, so we sighed and went with it. When it was finished, she sent us a ZIP file holding all of it, and...then we didn't have any idea how to get it working.

She helped us, thankfully, but the whole thing was really annoying for our computer illiterate phone-dwelling ass. And then we had no clue about unity because it had been years since we'd made the other model with a base. Then she joked about having a $140 fee for it and that was pretty much the final straw for us, deciding to just pay someone else to port it for us because we were getting genuine headaches from it.

Since then, we've been using the model as planned, but have noticed a lot of clipping issues with it, it turns out the person we found to port it actually does similar quality models from scratch for like a FRACTION of the price, and despite us telling her it was going to be used on Oculus(i refuse to call it Meta) Quest, it was INCREDIBLY unoptimized for it.

This is a first world problem to hell and back and I'm not actually going to do it because I don't want to deal with her again after all the miscommunication but

Aita for being suspicious enough I've been scammed/fed a sob story to want at least a partial refund here?

What are these acronyms?

[macgyvermedical]

Okay so I have a really specific question. Baseline stats? Except my character is already pretty sick, he's got room to get much much worse but right now he ain't great. He's in a fair amount of pain because he keeps having adverse reactions to painkillers from previous drug abuse and yeah. So what would normal baseline be? And then what would a normal baseline for him bc since he's got this illness. It's idk what you call it but one of the illness that get worse with time... degenerative. Except in this world he can be fixed with enough treatment but he keeps refusing said treatment. Yeah I don't really understand vitals and things so I didn't wanna botch it but based on the info what would you assume would be good? Also what's like the worse someone's vitals could be with them still awake and alive although the mental state can be real messed up. (: thanks hon

So our understanding of normal adult vitals include:

BP: 100/60- 140/90 mmHg (a measurement of pressure)

Pulse: 60-100 beats per minute

Respirations: 12-20 breaths per minute

Temperature: 96-100.4F or 36-38C

SpO2: 95-100%

Level of Consciousness: Alert and Oriented times 4 (can answer 4 specific questions about themselves and their environment)

Now, all these "normals" pretty much assume a healthy, white, 20-something male who has a BMI of 18-25 and who has been sitting quietly for at least 5 minutes. So basically very few real humans.

It's very normal to vary from these somewhat if you are exerting yourself, in pain, sick, or otherwise different from the above demographic. So if we're taking vitals, we want to control what we can (generally asking the person to sit relatively quietly for 5 minutes). If we do this and you're out of range, but we have no other data to work with, we will try to get you back into this range. Because again, it's assumed that to get out of these ranges, you must have something going on medically that needs addressed.

For example, if your blood pressure is 160/90 with a heart rate of 110 because you're in a lot of pain, we can correct that by treating whatever is causing the pain.

Now, there's not always an identifiable (or fixable) reason why someone might be out of range, and sometimes we just correct the vitals themselves because chronically high or low vitals may cause problems. For example, as far as we know right now, living for a long time with a blood pressure in the 180s/100s will eventually cause heart failure, stroke, or heart attack, regardless of the reason. So if we can't get that person back into range by fixing something else, we'll give medications that directly lower blood pressure.

But let's say someone's heart rate is in the 40s because they're a runner. That's normal for them. It doesn't cause them any problems, it's not caused by a disease process, as far as we know won't cause them problems in the future, and their other vital signs are in normal range. They are said to have a "baseline heart rate of 40bpm". That tells other medical providers who are working with them that there's nothing to correct there- ignore that weird reading and just fix anything else that needs fixed.

Baseline can also be used if someone has a chronic illness that is as controlled as it can be, but it still has an impact on their vital signs. Say someone has a heart rhythm called atrial fibrillation with RVR and their heart rate without medications is in the 190s or 200s. This may cause symptoms, but if we medicate to control that rate to between 60-100, it may also cause symptoms.

So we might give enough medication to control the rate to 110s, which minimizes the symptoms they experience but still puts them technically out of range. Their baseline, then, is in the 110s. Again, nothing to correct there, it's just normal for them to be out of range on that vital.

Or, someone might have dementia and be unable to answer all the questions that would make them A+Ox4, but maybe can only consistently answer 2 of them. We wouldn't necessarily be worried about that because we know that it's normal for them to be A+Ox2- their baseline, but we would be worried if suddenly they were A+Ox0.

You can also have other measurements besides vitals that are considered baseline stats. Like pain, or blood sugar, BMI, electrolyte levels, or pretty much any other lab value.

As far as what you are describing I don't know that I can give you specific baselines, as I don't know what his symptoms are or how they relate to vital signs. With chronic pain generally vitals eventually go back to normal (say someone rates their pain at a 5/10 consistently, over time their body normalizes around that pain level and other vitals may only go out of range if they have an acute spike in pain).

What I can give you is a few of the following:

Pain: All vital signs go up

Dehydration/blood loss/shock: BP and LOC goes down, everything else goes up

Kidney problems: BP and HR can change but in what direction is due to the specific problem.

Opioid overdose: RR goes down.

Heart problems: Change in HR and BP but directions can change depending on specific problem.

Lung problems: Usually RR and HR go up

Throwing up: everything goes up

Drug abuse and withdrawal: depends on the drug

[pttucker]

Aaaand we're done! \o/

Well... "done" in one sense of the word since I just did a very quick search and apparently there's like another 140 chapters of side stories and counting. Possibly post-epilogue stuff??? Didn't look too closely since I don't want too many spoilers if I can avoid it. I already saw one vague spoiler relating to 49% Dokja's side story. 😢😢😢

Though at least now with the main novel+epilogues finished all of the mysteries have been wrapped up (as far as I can remember).

I guess I'm still curious about the Library, but even if that's never touched upon in any side story chapters, I think I kinda get it with my theories and how he broke up into many, many different Dokjas and/or was two different Oldest Dreams?

Oh, and the stuff with Dokja & 1863's Sooyoung's blurry faces, I would have liked to have seen that resolved. There were mentions of Dokja slowly getting less blurry that were kinda glossed over but nothing concrete ever popped up for why his face was blurry or if/when it fully stopped being blurry? Unless I just missed some subtle thing?? Like I guess the epilogue did mention that Sooyoung had fun writing in stuff about him being the Ugly King but I don't think she made him ugly, that was just her memories of him?? Either way, poor Dokja. 😭

idk maybe I'm the only one obsessed with things like that. (I literally eventually started a separate section in my ORV Scrivener notes just for all the times Dokja's looks are mentioned in any way.) So maybe it just wasn't deemed important to "resolve"? Or, again, it was but I totally missed it.

Or maybe there's still something about the Library and his looks (and other mysteries I may not be currently remembering) in the additional 140+ chapters out there?

Unfortunately, English translations of Chapters 552+ don't all seem to be in one place, or at least I wasn't able to quickly find them in my first search. I'll keep looking, though. Might just have to cobble together the chapters one by one from various sources. If anyone happens to know where I could possibly find them...

Though I'm honestly not certain if I want to immediately jump into them or if I want to give it a moment to breathe. I actually am a little bit disappointed that I jumped right into the 40+ chapter epilogues right after finishing the main story since I feel like it stole some of the impact from him finding his two separate ■■.

Even if I was really happy to see how they continued living on in the system-less world and how Dokja felt after losing all of his companions to be Oldest Dream. Seriously you never get to see those sort of things after the "happy" ending.

And I did love seeing how it all tied back together with Sooyoung being the author and ORV itself being Dokja's story (which Sooyoung also wrote!) which in turn is our story and getting to see Secretive Plotter and the 999ths again and poor Joonghyuk just not knowing what to do with himself after losing his purpose as a protagonist and him and Sooyoung wanting to save their precious Dokja more than anything and both of them coming to understand Dokja better and so on and so forth.

But if nothing else, I do really want to finally read some fanfiction and otherwise engage with fandom now that the big mysteries are solved. And if I can make one final prediction it's going to be that the top fanfic is some kind of modern, no powers gamer AU or something. Because that's just how these fandoms seem to go. 😂

Anyway, I think it should be obvious from my many, many ORV posts but I really enjoyed the novel! I am very happy that so many things were so well foreshadowed, so much was so carefully planned, so many loose ends were tied up in a very satisfying manner, etc. It's very impressive for such a long, looooong story. I mean, just the fact that you could get inklings that something was up with Secretive Plotter before we even hit Chapter 100 yet not have the reveal come until much later is impressive just on its own.

I guess if I had one complaint it'd be that I didn't quite vibe with the whole "multiple walls to open the Final Wall" thing. Like, I totally was into the idea of Dokja's Fourth Wall being the largest fragment, and I actually thought that Jang Hayoung's wall was pretty clever since it's all about commenting/texting others when Jan Hayoung was created due to Dokja's comments.

But I'm not quite so into the Wall of Samsara and Wall That Divides Good and Evil. Like, I do get how they relate to the story, what with Dokja literally reincarnating into multiple worlds himself and the fact that a lot of Dokja's main theme was that he didn't nicely fit into a box of good or evil. I mean, his literal Modifiers are Demon King of Salvation and Watcher of Light and Darkness. Not to mention, Dokja went through a ton of the novel saying that just because they were evil in one turn doesn't mean they're evil in the next and vice versa, as well as the fact that the had companions on both sides of the spectrum.

So I'm not saying that they just came out of nowhere, but personally I find something to be a little off with them when compared to the other two walls? idk these are just my initial thoughts and I might feel completely different once I re-read the novel and can better appreciate things.

Which, speaking of, I'm debating with myself if I want to do the truly ridiculous thing and start this entire novel over right from the beginning in true Dokja fashion or if I want to be good and maybe give some other universe some love. I was looking at The World After The Fall but...uh...

Not to say that things with tiny fandoms aren't also good!!!

But it does make me kinda side-eye it a little and wonder if I shouldn't just read Solo Leveling...

...or read whatever side stories I can find, aaaaaalllllll the fanfic, and then read ORV all over again. 😂

We'll see.

FYI when I do start reacting to the side stories I think I'll use the tag "orv side story" if anyone wants to block it preemptively to avoid spoilers.

[simonalkenmayer]

So, um, uh. Whilst watching Secrets of the Occult, there's an episode regarding Gilles de Rais meeting Barron.

In this episode it is reported that Gilles aquired 140 children at Barron's request.

Validity?

Also know anything regarding the supposed public ritual in honour of his "friend?" Joan of Arc with The Mystery of Orl ans?

Thank you

Yes, I know. I was there.

Allow me to explain. There are parts to that story that I did not tell you. The reason, my recordings of my short stories stopped where they did, is because I sat me down to write the missing pieces, and could not bring myself to do so. I have a heavy burden of guilt for my actions during that time. I was intent on having this man prove to the world what a monster he was so I exploited the mythology created by a conman. Unfortunately, this was the wrong thing to have done. I made the situation far worse and suffered at the time because of this poor decision. But by the time I realized I had some part in this catastrophe, it was too late for me to stop it. I had to carry it out to get it to stop.

I can tell you about anything you want to know about, but it is very difficult for me to address. I would be happy to try again at completing the story. I am not sure I can record it until I’ve processed how I feel.

I will see if I can attempt it this week, but I warn you that the story is somewhat triggering in many respects, including dealing with the magician. That specifically makes me feel very, how do the kids say these days? Skeeved out? Some such.

Guilles was a sick man surrounded by sick man. And I made it worse. It’s because of how that ended that I decided to never participate in any sort of vengeance again. And so for a long while, I did not use my abilities to aid humanity in any way. After that time, I eventually ended up in England . It was only then that I dipped a toe back in, because I believed that it would bring more peace. I was correct in that decision, and so after that maintained a kind of policy of distance. I only ever use my skills to build things, never to destroy them or tip a scale this way or that . Until I came to the wild West and people tried to kill me. It was my anger that drove me then, and capitalism made it possible for me to tip the scale in a way that was direct, but distant at once.

I’ve always loved gambling. It’s free money.

[usafphantom2]

#TomcatTails

#TomcatTuesday

RED FLAG Shenanigans Part 1

RED FLAG is a two-week exercise held several times a year at Nellis Air Force Base several miles northeast of Las Vegas. It’s an advanced air-to-air combat training event that “aims to offer realistic air-combat training for military pilots and other flight crew members from the United States and allied countries.” Since my first squadron, the VF-24 Renegades, obviously qualified for the event, we volunteered to go……twice….in two years. Multiple DACT events?? VEGAS??? Sign us up!

The following five vignettes are offered to explain how these kinds of events went for an early 90’s Tomcat squadron. They’re pulled from both of our visits there in 94/95 and are representative of each of them. The first one in 1994 we all got to stay in a Howard Johnsons near the airport (decent breakfast!) and for the second one we got to stay in a “No-Tell Motel” across the street from the city jail (syringes and hookers!). Life was good, as we’d all fly once a day and have some of the best Liberty imaginable in Sin City, USA. I’ll use vignette #1 to illustrate how fun that nightlife was (names and callsigns changed to protect the innocent).

Who’s Got the Spike Watch?

As you may imagine, cutting 28 Fighter Pilots and RIOs loose in Loss Vegas can be rather…..interesting. Per usual, we’d tend to travel in large packs (10-12 wasn’t unusual) and we’d roam the streets going to various casinos (“always bet on Renegade Red!!”), consuming the local food and beverage (shrimp cocktails and bourbon), and communicating with the indigenous peoples (showgirls).

We had a RIO in the squadron (“Spike”) that was from North Carolina, complete with heavy accent, that would on occasion imbibe just enough bourbon to cease conscious brain function but not quite enough to make his legs stop working. One fine evening, Spike was right there with us and then all the sudden he was not. Shit. We searched a bit but no joy, so ended up going back to the hotel to get some shut eye.

Morning arrives and Spike had returned sometime late in the evening. We’d heard he’d banged on some of the Sailors room doors while in his underwear and they eventually steered him to one of the Officer’s rooms. We’re all downstairs for breakfast just waiting for Spike to tell us what the hell happened. He didn’t remember, naturally. But he DID say “I have a pocket full of receipts, ATM withdrawal slips, and I can’t find my wedding ring.”

Uh-oh. So we lay out all the paperwork in chronological order. Apparently, he’d hooked up with some honey (not physically, just out partying) and they: withdrew $500 in cash for gambling, had a $140 dinner at a steak restaurant, and spent $600 at a handbag store. Oh, and he gave the girl his wedding ring. Skipper hears about this and he appoints us all as having the “Spike Watch” for the rest of the detachment. Spike was not happy but managed to stay married because his wife is a Saint.

Beating Up on Eagles

Our primary role is (again) Red Air, the bad guys, with very limited A/A missile capability and our job was to suck up Eagle AMRAAM and then get to a merge and have some fun. My favorite engagement occurred mid exercise. We were set up in the west of the working area in the low 20,000’s and the Eagles were in the east way up in the ionosphere in the high 30s, probably 60 miles away. At the “fights on”, we push east and descend a bit to try and pull them out of the high block. They didn’t bite.

At about 40 miles we can see them waaaaaay up there; a wall of eight Eagles each with a contrail. Now normally, if you’re emitting contrails (“marking”) you want to get out of that block because the bad guys can see you. But a wall of EIGHT Eagles at 38K’ with 4+ AMRAAM each is pretty formidable so at that point, they have an “I don’t care if you can see me, you’re going to die” advantage. Sure enough, the whole wall of eight turns 45° to the south; they’d sorted and shot missiles at all of us hapless Red Air missile sponges. After 30 seconds or so, “Timeout kill; all Red Air is dead.”

With that part out of the way, the “continue” call comes and now we roll up our sleeves for some turning and burning. The Eagles know we’re not coming up there so they come down to meet us. Perfect. Their wing is optimized for the thin air; the Tomcat swing wing is optimized for the thicker air below 20K’. We’d all broken up and were now raging singes, and I get radar on an Eagle that’s headed right at me. We’re all the way north and clear of the rest of the jets, so it’s just me and him mano a mano.

We close, and then we’re visual, and it looks to be a left-to-left pass. I’m at my best corner speed (320 kts) because I know that down here our degrees of turn per second is pretty close but he has a slight advantage. I need to find a way to get some angles and I hit upon a pretty basic intimidation move as we’re about to merge. Normally at an ACM merge, you pass wingtip to wingtip at 500 feet separation and when you pass, you start your turn, either into him (2 circle) or away from him (1 circle). My plan is for a 2 circle fight to maximize my turn rate. But what I DON’T do is wait until our wingtips pass to start my turn.

I wait until we nearly merged, throw the stick hard left with some rudder while I’m at his left 11 o’clock and put a BIG OL’ TOMCAT right in his face, like I’m early turning him. All he sees is this aluminum overcast right in front of his jet, seeming to be digging for a turn before even passing. Our jets then actually pass and I snap on 6.5 Gs and max perform the Tomcat across his tails and nose low. And my gambit works. As I visually acquire him in a couple seconds, he hadn’t started turning….and THEN he snaps on his best turn. But it’s too late. I’ve already got 20° or more on him, I’m below the horizon, and in 2 circle flow it’s just a matter of time. I pull harder to to scoop the turn out across the circle and get into a firing position pretty quickly. Worked out real nice for me on that one. Naturally, there were other merges that didn’t. In the debrief we met up and chatted and he was a newer Eagle pilot and said “I’ve never seen a jet that big move like that.”

BUFF Too Tough

At one point, we had a B-52 show up. Affectionately known as the BUFF (Big Ugly Fat F**ker), she’s a remarkable platform and it was an honor to see one in flight. On one particular run, she was making her way across the area up in the ionosphere with the Eagles there to protect. We all REALLY wanted to bag a BUFF as it would be huge bragging rights. Our division of Red Air starts this particular run and with four Eagles/one Buff in the East, we turn in and head for ‘em. Our plan is to break up into four raging singles about 40 miles and dive for the deck and hope to ingress get under the Eagles and behind the BUFF and do our best to cornhole her from behind.

Things are working pretty good, but the Eagles have a GREAT system and they managed to bag 3 of us. But not me, luckily. I’m in the weeds in the high desert roving through a valley and my RIO is doing his best to get his radar up and on the BUFF. Sure enough, there she is at 4 miles in the medium 30’s. Now, remember I’ve related before that the F-14A with the TF-30s didn’t do so well above 30K’ (as in “could barely get there”), so I know we wouldn’t have much time for the shot, basically making a stern conversion in the vertical. So we light the cans, accelerate to ludicrous speed and start a climbing 50° nose up slight turn to the right.

Once we’re visual, it’s just a matter of timing your turn and climb to arrive in a firing solution at the BUFF’s 5 o’clock position and start blastin’ away. That’s the plan anyway. What ACTUALLY happens is this. We’re about 3 miles at her 5 o’clock, the heart of the envelope for the stern quarter Sparrow shot, and my RIO tries to get a radar lock. I see the diamond/symbology bounce around, feel the antenna thumping at my feet and SCHWACK the radar antenna hits the stops hard low and right. RIO tries again, same result. At this point, I figured out that a jet as big as the BUFF must have a jammer suite as big as a tractor trailer. Sure enough, no WAY we’re going to get a radar missile on her. Fair enough, switch Sidewinder (heat seeker). I didn’t know if I had enough ‘Winders to bring down a BUFF (two 20-pound warheads against a 200,000 pound jet), but I’d give it a try.

‘Winder up, good seeker symbology, try and maneuver to get the seeker on one of the motors…..and….remember when I said we didn’t do well up above 30K? Well, controls are getting mushy and if I put any kind of pull on the jet I’d probably stall one of the motors, and I’m getting slower a little at a time. I keep fishing for a bit but the seeker didn’t want to give me a good lock. A couple growls, but no tone. Dammit. No way guns were going to work in this scenario, so discretion being the better part of valor……let the nose drop, abandon my one shot at a BUFF, and on the descent shake my fist while screaming at the sky “Curses!! A curse on you, BUFF!!!!”

This is part one of "Red Flag Shenanigans". Tune in next week when we finish the series with "Mirage 2000, Dammit" and "Area 51 is Real."

@RSE_VB via X

[clatterbane]

And, speak of the devil!

Hadn't heard anything other than from primary care since that appointment, so now I get three notifications in a row from the healthcare portal.

(With the aid of autotranslate.)

So yeah, no wonder primary care had no idea what I was talking about when I asked about maybe getting the first sample drawn while I was there, and they were already taking my blood over the anemia. (Your local vårdcentral is usually where to get any samples drawn, unless you want to go to the university phlebotomy clinic for that.)

The endo clinic is apparently planning to handle that themselves. I had no idea how to even get that taken care of, and was planning to ask my nurse there how to do the thing once Mr. C got back and could accompany me.

But yeah, they evidently want me there three (3) freaking mornings in a row, for short appointments at the equivalent of 2 or 3 A.M. for my nocturnal ass. At least it is the endo clinic here in town, but it takes longer to get there from the parking building than they are likely to keep me.

The plan is apparently to do a dexamethasone suppression test.

Because of the difficulty in obtaining 24-hour urine collections in many outpatients, some physicians use a l-mg overnight dexamethasone suppression test. For this test, the patient takes l mg of dexamethasone orally at 11 p.m., and the plasma cortisol level is measured at 8 a.m. the following day (normal value: 5 μg per dL or less [140 nmol per L]). The reported sensitivity of this test is 98 percent; the reported specificity is 80 percent.

So they want me to get a baseline sample drawn, take thev dexamethasone, then come back the next morning for another blood sample. The third day?

I also have some nasty suspicions about what a hefty dose of dexamethasone might do to my blood sugar, but hey. ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯ It is the specialist diabetes clinic proposing to give me the stuff.

Glancing through that web link, I am getting even more honked off at that new endo and her eyeballing judgments.

The most common symptom is sudden weight gain.3,6 Obesity, usually with a central distribution, is the most frequent sign. Any sign or symptom of cortisol excess can develop initially, but muscle weakness, bruising, hypertension, facial rounding and plethora eventually occur. Hypertension is likely to develop in patients who are more than 40 years of age.

Yeah, I know. I have quite coincidentally been there in the distant past, and it ain't much fun. (Not gonna lie, especially when this starts happening to you at 15-16.) I am currently showing zero of those symptoms other than the high blood pressure--which is not at all unusual, and only really went screwy after one particular round with COVID. I am only barely out of the Officially Underweight range again right now, on someone with this size frame to boot. I have pretty much the opposite of the insulin resistance too much cortisol will cause, and they bloody well know that.

It's not a very nice feeling when this is still evidently what immediately pops into your new doctor's mind the first time they clap eyes on you, and then they get all weird about it. When you're even there for a routine check-in over something completely different. Good thing I'll probably only have to deal with the woman once a year.

[pbandjesse]

I didn't have a bad day. I wasn't even all that tired. I am in my feelings and am feeling pretty low right now. But for the most part it was a good day.

I slept a little better. I didn't wake up as often. The pressure in my ribs lessened. And I was feeling alright at 830 when my alarm went off.

I was slightly disappointed that the weather wasn't worse. It was just annoying enough to make them move my appointment but the schools didn't have a delay so James was not able to get out of work to come with me to the hospital. I was not looking forward to going alone.

I was also just thrown off timing wise. Like I would normally be getting back from our appointment at 9 but instead I was eating cereal and getting ready to go. I would bend my finger nail backwards and broke it off really short. Ouch. I tried to waste time so I wasn't leaving wildly early. Sat on my chair in the studio and made a drink to bring with me. But I still left to early and would arrive at the parking garage at 930.

And my appointment wasn't until 10. And I wouldn't get taken back until almost 1020. So it was just a lot of sitting around. Sylvia was moving around my in belly while I was waiting. But when I finally got pulled back she just. Wasn't??

I think maybe it was because I was frustrated by the storyline of the episode of Reba on the TV. And then a woman and her mom came out from their appointment and she was going upstairs to give birth right then! Like surprise! Baby time! The energy in the room changed and everyone was excited. It was also the new grandma's birthday! Amazing!

When I was brought back two of the nurses came out at the same time and I was slightly overwhelmed by cheerful greetings! But everyone was being super nice.

The appointment was fine. I was slightly stressed that Sylvia wasn't moving. Her heart beat was going. And she was practice breathing but she seemed to be asleep. Which was very funny. We tried ice water and some other squishings. But nothing. The nurse left the room to get me water and while she was gone I tried to give myself an ultrasound and that was funny. But no moving?

So we moved on to the feedback monitoring. Which was fine though her heart rate was slightly higher then normal. Normally 140, was between 145 and 150. But she started moving and wiggling and we were chilling. And eventually they did the ultrasound again and we saw enough moving that we passed and I was able to go home.

But I did not to right home. Instead once I got to the car I ordered fries at McDonald's and drove out there. Though it took me forever to get out of the parking garage. I felt like I was lost?! But I got out of there and went to get my lunch.

I accidently got a coke instead of a diet coke. Bleh. But whatever. I had my lunch and didn't drink the soda. And listened to my podcast. And then went home.

When I got back here I got rid of the trash in the car. And spent some time putting things away. Hanging up more clothes to give away. I did not put it outside though because it was raining a little. I started working on our thank you cards, the printed ones came but I will probably still do hand written smaller notes. But for now the printed ones are stuffed and names are in the envelopes.

I spent some time on my sewing machine. Doing the first pass on the last 5 squares. But I didn't want to sit there anymore. Instead moving to the living room sofa to embroider the next letter on Sylvia's jumpsuit. Slow going. I picked a terrible stitch. But whatever.

Once I finished that I would do some more cleaning. Fed Crabcake. Moved some stuff around the basement. And felt tired and moved upstairs.

I would lay down and scrolled and read on my phone. I did not sleep even though I wanted to. I spent time with sweetp. Wanted a soft pretzel but didn't want to leave the house again so I had some dried cereal instead. Talked to James about dinner. I requested a fake meat and stuffing. The fake meat would be the fish fillets.

When James got home they would make me dinner right away. I appreciated them doing that before they jumped on their call for their podcast. I get upset when they say they are going to make dinner but I have to wait until 8. This was better.

Now I am hanging out in bed. Wishing for James to be done their recording. We talked about some home stuff we went to finish before baby comes. The hall painting. Covering outlets. Pinning down cords. We are slowly slowly going to baby proof but man is that going to be tough.

Tomorrow I have a nice open day and then we are going to have dinner with some friends. I can't believe tomorrow marks 34 weeks. Wild. Absolutely wild. The longest year of my life and also somehow it is flying by.

I hope you all have a great night. Stay safe out there. Good night!!

[randomderp]

While playing the 4th Resident Evil Game(The Remake), I was lowkey struggling at this one section where you have to fight off a horde with Luis until Ashley opens the freakin' door to let you guys escape. I died probably over 20 times (the chapter review says only 5, but I had backed up to older saves at multiple points to try and get a better start before the horde). Anyway, one of the most common death screens I got was a villager grabbing Leon by the front and jabbing their thumbs into his eyes, where Leon just kinda flops back and dies. So, with that struggle still taunting me, I wrote a bored drabble(?) during my break at work and before going to bed.

Expect spelling mistakes and flawed logic, I haven't written fanfiction in years. And again, bored drabble to just get the writing out there. Feel free to yoink the idea and referbish it into your own thing.

Warning for Gouged out Eyes? Idk if it counts as spoilers, too, but basically, rewritten gameplay, lol.

-----

Pain. He was in pain. Excruciating pain. Everything was dark, and his head felt like it was close to exploding. What had just happened? He was in so much pain he forgot. His ears were ringing, but he could hear a faint voice.

"¡Sando! Come on, get up! ¡Mierda! Leon!" Luis... It was Luis' voice. He tried to move, he felt his body roll over onto its gut. His hands felt around, eventually feeling the cool metal of his gun. He tried to open his eyes to see the weapon, to see his surroundings. There was so much yelling, gargled voices from the feral villagers, and Luis begging Leon to stand up. He grunted, feeling for the wall to assist him to stand, but was immediately bodyslammed, then smacked down again by what felt like a shovel. Luis' gun could be heard for a moment, and after another second of struggling to stand, Leon was picked up by the scruff like some newborn kitten.

"Leon, come on, man. There's too many, we got to go. Open your damn eyes and start running 'migo!" Luis spoke, a sense of urgency in his tone as Leon felt said man start guiding him up some stairs while angered yells in a language Leon only knew basics in were heard behind them. He tried opening his eyes, his eyelids moving, but no light peeked through. Nothing seemed to work. He was still shrouded in darkness.

"Leon? Over here!" Ashley... Where was she? She was safe, right? A door had opened, hitting the wall adjacent to it, that's where she was. Leon's instinct immediately moved his legs to follow the voice, but without much visual aid caused him to run into the door frame. He grunted, holding his already pained head.

"Leon! What are you doing? Don't tell me that guy did something to yer eyes!" Luis again. Leon felt an arm wrap around his waist, a body pressed into him on the left. His left arm naturally wrapped around what he could only pray was an ally's shoulder. He was dragged out the door and soon a second body attached to his right side.

"Oh my God, Leon! What the hell happened to your eyes?" Ashley screamed in horror.

"Joder... ¡Señorita! just focus on running like hell. We need to get out of here before we get more hurt! I'll focus on Leon's safety for now. Go, go, go!" Luis pulled Leon, causing his body to start running on default to keep balance.

His eyes never cleared up, so he began counting his steps. 23, 24, 25... 42... 58... 92 steps until they finally stopped. Or at least, from the point when he started counting. Probably closer to 140 steps or so. The trio began panting like dogs, their heartrates reaching the clouds. Leon was pressed into a wall and urged to sit by the foreign friend. He complied, but only after non-verbally grunting to show distaste for being shoved around.

"Sit. Let's see what's going on with that face of yours," Luis spoke, his rough hands held up Leon's face. Leon hated the touch. He wasn't a child, or someone's girlfriend, and he didn't want to be touched like this. He moved a hand up to smack Luis away, but completely missed. "Watch it, Cowboy. I'm tryna help."

"I don't need help, I'm fine." Leon finally spoke, flailing his hands in front of him to get Luis away from him. He moved his hands to his eyes, rubbing the thick streams of dried blood off them. Disgustingly sticky... He huffed, assuming he couldn't see just because of the blood, that's all it was. Not because one of the villages stabbed their thumbs into his eyes, possibly puncturing the cornea or even past his lense, causing the aquous humour to drain and replace with blood. Surely not!

The more Leon cleaned away blood with his hands, the more Luis sighed, sounding more concerned, meanwhile Ashley mades sounds of distress by gasping or muttering the Lords name in horror.

"Let me see. I know a thing or two about medical shit, just hold still, Leon," Luis grabbed Leon's hands, moving them to Leon's lap. Luis hummed, patting something, most likely his pockets, for a moment. He cussed for a moment, then began patting Leon's face with something soft. A tissue of sorts. Leon cringed, the lightest touch to his eyelids causing him to wince. "Try to open your eyes."

Leon tried, boy, did he try. His eyelids tucked up and down respectively, but he saw nothing. Black as the night sky. He heard Ashley gasp than begin to cry, meanwhile Luis made an undefinable sound that can best be described as disgust.

"I can't open them, they're stuck," Leon claimed. He wiped his cheek as a subconsious act, feeling a tear trail down. The tear in question felt too thick to be aquadic. It was then when the situation finally clicked.

"Buddy, you have them open. And it ain't pretty," Luis spoke softly, a hand over his mouth while he though. "I won't sugar coat it, your eyes are destroyed. I didn't realise that one villager actually got to you like that. If I'd known... You're lucky, you shouldn't be alive, but it looks like he didn't dig far enough to reach the back of your sockets. But, well, uh... You may be permanently blind. Can you see anything at all? Flashes of colour? Simple blurriness? Anything?"

"Uh...." Leon didn't know how to process the information. How was he supposed to protect Ashley if he didn't have the one part of him that he relied on most? "No. Nothing. Just, it's... It's just dark. Very faint trails of colour, but, I don't think... No, they're impossible colours. I can't... Fucking. Damn it!"

Leon tucked his knees in. Hanging his head and hiding himself the best he could in plain view.

What was he gonna do now?

[theabyssinyourcloset]

The shortfin mako

Last time (over a month ago, oops) I talked about the goblin shark. There has now been a request (can I call it that?) by @surprisemice to do the mako shark next, so here we go!

So, the scientific name for the shortfin mako (also known as the shortfin mako shark, blue pointer, mackerel shark and bonito shark) is Isurus oxyringchus. There's also a longfin mako shark, which is its own separate species (Isurus paucus). Although both are commonly called makos, the shortfin is better known, and so I will be introducing it first (I'll write about the longfin in a separate post sometime later). The shortfin mako is an endangered species, along with the longfin.

The shortfin mako shark typically inhabits tropical waters all around the world, far from land, at around 150 metres (490 ft). It's an endothermic species (one of the very few) that isn't typically found in waters colder that 16°C (61°F).

The species was first discovered around 1810. Unfortunately I did not find where that happened. I also cannot find any information about how old this species is. I seriously don't know how I was able to dig up so much information about the goblin shark :/ well, I'm going to tell some other cool facts about this species instead (once we get there)!

The shortfin makos are typically a colour of dark blue on the top. The colour turns to metallic blue, before turning to white on the bottom. The sharks typically have around 6-8 teeth on their upper jaw, but overall they have 12 sets of them. Quite a lot. Not to mention that they're razor sharp. These sharks also have around 50 teeth that are not in use. They are possibly only there, at the back of their mouths, to intimidate other predators (mainly other sharks).

The shortfin mako usually grows to about 2,5 to 3,2 metres (8,2 to 10,5 feet). Females are typically larger in size than males. They normally weigh around 60–140 kilograms (130–310 pounds). The longest verified length for an individual was 4,45 metres (14,6 feet), and the heaviest was around 600 kilograms (1 300 pounds). Those two were separate cases, though.

Now, some fun facts. The shortfin mako sharks are the fastest species of shark (I like the fact that this shark was used as a mascot for @surprisemice's old swim team, you people must've been good), reaching up to speeds of 80,47 km/h (50 mi/h). That's quite fast, I must say. Also, what I find even more cool is that these sharks can jump above water, at heights of 9 metres (almost 30 feet). I just searched that up and I'm not going to lie, my jaw dropped open. So glad I'm doing some random shark posts like these, I get to learn cool stuff.

Another fun fact: the term 'mako' comes from the Māori language (or its different dialects), with mako meaning shark or shark tooth. Idk why but I just find that cute.

So, in conclusion: The shortfin mako shark is an endangered species of shark found all around the world in tropical and overall warm waters. They're also currently the fastest shark species out there.

Below I have provided images of this beautiful species:

The shortfin mako shark.

Another image of the shortfin mako shark.

The shortfin mako shark jumping out of water (impressive).

Gif with a good view of the teeth of the shortfin mako shark.

Hopefully this was enjoyable to read! I'd be glad to receive feedback on my info posts, if anyone has any. But that's it for today, have a great day/night/whatever time it is there where you are (here it's basically midnight *cough cough*)!

I'll make a separate post about which shark species' I want to write about, eventually crossing off the ones I have written about. (That isn't that important right now though)

I have once again forgot to cite my sources. Fuck me.

All sources read/visited on 4th March 2024, by The Abyss In Your Closet

[toddmarksthespot]

Entry #5

13Jun24

0708

^^’ Been a while since I’ve made an official entry post..! A lot has happened since then I guess.

Had a visit from Habit…! Wasn’t pleasant! But I did owe him payment from when I visited #013. Oh!! I never touched on that in an entry post either- god no wonder my mind is all over the place..^^’ Really need to get better with this routine. Haha..!!

Ireland: I went to Ireland to help #013 with his eye. Despite the circumstances, I am very glad I went. #013 is really nice! He’s really cool and interesting, super knowledgable and understanding. I feel bad, I feel like I was short with him the whole time. I hadn’t been sleeping, just in case something were to show up. I ended up passing out eventually- probably should’ve done it on my own accord to keep from sleeping as long as I had. Especially since it was my first night there- I hadn’t slept a couple days prior-to but I just didn’t feel comfortable sleeping when #013 could’ve needed something urgently. Luckily, nothing happened. I’ve been trying to do better about my phobia of sleeping…hasn’t been helped by how fast everything’s been moving lately, I think. Makes me forget things and makes me panic. I get worried I’ll go to sleep and it’ll be a few days or weeks along the line before I wake up again. Anyway! Off topic- #013, I’d love to see you again during better circumstances! ^^ I don’t like being around people, but I didn’t mind being around you at all. It was really, really nice having the company.

Habit visit: I don’t want to go into too much here. He came and got the book. I messed up, gave him the wrong one at first, I didn’t check. I learned my lesson.

Happy time: Habit had a 24 hour spell when no one could feel anything wrong. It was amazing. I felt like I hadn’t in..god. Years. Like nothing was wrong, nothing had ever been wrong, nothing will be wrong again. Any usual worries or paranoias I had were just gone. Anytime I saw Scottie, he was happy. I believed Blue was back. I didn’t feel guilty anymore. I wasn’t scared. It all ended way too fast. …^^’ Ended up breaking my hand and wrist over it.

Broken hand: The second that 24 hour period was up, it all just…came rushing back. Way too fast. I was pissed, I was scared, I was grieving. I put a hole through my poor wall, and thusly forgot the brick behind the wood paneling. Way to go, #042! -_- Naturally, I couldn’t go to a hospital. I wouldn’t have anyway, last time I tried to go to a doctor they just acted weird. Like they’d seen a ghost. So…if it isn’t obvious already, I’ve been without my meds for who knows how long now. I did try to wrap it myself, even made a splint with some wood scrap. It didn’t really offer the support my hand and wrist needed, and it wasn’t at all reset. My hand hurt so bad, just kept looking worse and worse. Ran out of what little ibuprofen I had left. But…#140 made a deal to fix it. I don’t know what he dealt, or why…but I am so. So grateful to him. Pissed that he did it, yes, but grateful. I didn’t realize just how bad it really was until it was gone. I was able to sleep last night. I feel bad about getting so upset in chat, I really wasn’t trying to be difficult. I’d been running on zero sleep and in so much pain…plus Habit egging on everything just…ugh. It was too much. I feel so much better now, I really hope he and #013 can forgive me for being so mean yesterday.

Minecraft: On the subject of yesterday…Habit made a Minecraft server. I haven’t played in a couple years, not since Scottie left. It’s nice!! Last time I played they had just added stained glass and stuff, so much has been added since then…it’s really fun exploring it! I didn’t know I needed this until now, but it’s doing wonders for my mental health. It’s nice to see #013 again! And I can play with the other rabbits ^^ Plus I can keep my hands busy without feeling totally alone, without having to be around anyone. It’s great, I’m so happy it was made. I can’t wait to play again tonight!

All in all, really rough few weeks, so far ending on a better note. Learning a lot..! ^^’ But hope it stays good for a while.

[guessimate]

This post will be rather short and that's partly because the Yu family will end up being a single person household for now, due to an unfortunate ROS. They are really getting the short end of the stick. The last round they couldn't afford to pay their taxes because nobody could open the store... and now Shime shall succumb to her illness. I'm going to say she thought her illness was gone, but it turned out to be the opposite and she found herself at death's door...

I infected Shime with pneumonia, then with food poisoning, and finally with pneumonia again, but she would always get healthy again. I'm going to say she wouldn't eat anymore because she was so poorly, and eventually withered. She was feeling so bad on her last day that she didn't appreciate her friend's visit.

Shime passed along her perception business reward onto her only son before she passed away. And upon her death the home business was bequeathed to him as well. I don't think there's a deed to pass if you have just a home business, so I couldn't transfer that.

Because the pond was still frozen and it kept snowing from time to time, I let Sangen have the chess table he wanted to pass the time. I didn't want him to just wander around the house. He got to Logic level 8.

~*~

I have come up with a bio for the son:

Sangen Yu is dissatisfied with his living conditions and the absence of his dad who decided to become a monk when he secured his heir. He also holds a grudge against both of his parents because he had to bring himself up on his own while his mom was sickly in bed.

Had they known Shime's condition was fatal, someone would have adopted Sangen immediately. But alas, he's now left on his own as the sole heir to the Yus' residence. He needs to find someone who won't be just a distant figure in his life.

He holds baking dear to his heart, since in his childhood he would bring cakes to his mom's bed to cheer her up. But he knows that he needs to keep on selling fish as is his family's tradition. Fish cakes anyone?

~*~

Sangen was rolled to be a Popularity sim. Popularity is not something his parents were ever interested in, but I think it shows that he either didn't understand his parents' priorities, or he cared neither for Fortune, nor Family. It's also odd that his dad left his family, despite being a Family sim, so I can understand that he thinks Family is not something worthy aspiring to.

Soji actually came over to visit the family he abandoned (on his own). Perhaps he had heard of his wife's illness. I allowed him to visit his wife on her deathbed.

~*~

Sangen opened the fishmonger's at the end of the round, after his mom had sadly passed away. He got his business to rank 2 (it was rank 1 before). He also got a positive review from the business critic who just loves visiting all my small home businesses.

I didn't write down the exact amount of money he had before he opened the store but he earned ~1400$. The tax is very similar to the one the previous family needed to pay, but the Yus owed double the rent because of the inability to pay last round.

1000$ - rent [for this and previous round]

560$ - tax

140$ - tithe

Sangen Yu cannot afford to pay the tithe, but he will pay all he can, hoping his dad will understand. He had ~1530$ in the bank and paid everything he could. The clergy might be unhappy about the lack of tithe, but there really isn't a separate clergy in town yet and his dad would probably let him off the hook...

I'm probably going to consider households who fail to pay the tithe as unfaithful, or at least doubtful about the Watcher. And I think it fits Sangen Yu, who feels failed by his dad - the embodiment of the clergy, in his mind.

[olderjodijournals]

Wednesday, July 1, 2009

Farrah was buried yesterday down in L.A. How sad. Kate looked old and anorexic, but as good as one her age with her kind of money can possibly look.

My tummy’s almost flat now. When I first started losing weight my knees and elbows couldn’t touch when I’d do crunches. Then I could eventually touch one knee/elbow, but not both at the same time. Now I can touch both easily. I’m sure some of it is due to stronger ab muscles as well as a loss of inches.

Today, now yesterday, I burned the 140-calorie cookie I ate for breakfast on the bike in 35 minutes.

I started taking the vitamins again to see if it affects my weight and makes it climb again. I awoke at 125 pounds again and if I were on days I might wake up at 124. But because I’m on nights right now I’m only losing about half a pound in my sleep.

We saw Brandy up at the fork when we were leaving yesterday evening while we bombed. Tom thinks Jesse doesn’t realize how far off she wanders, and that she’s probably going to see the renter’s dogs because there are male dogs there. I wonder if Jesse’s being too lazy to get her fixed is part of why they come around as often as they do. And is Jesse really gone so often these days that he never sees them? I guess he must be. Anyway, as soon as Whiskey or some other dog knocks her up again, maybe then he’ll fix her as long as he isn’t planning to start a puppy mill up there.

Hopefully, we’ll be getting a couple of hundred bucks off of August’s rent once Tom picks up the flooring he ordered and shows it to Jesse. He won’t have to pay the $50 in sales tax either. I guess one of the flooring stores went out of business and so that’s part of why. He’s going to call tomorrow to find out where to pick it up and give them the GC. He’ll be getting 6 boxes of light Maplewood-colored flooring. If Jesse doesn’t want it, we’ll advertise on Craigslist. Hopefully whatever we get for it, from whoever we get it from, will help him get his Mac back. July is when we’re aiming to get the TV back.

It really sucks that there are not going to be any more wins like this. That reminds me, OLS has me blocked now. Tom says they’re not blocking me personally, but that the site’s down for maintenance. Wow, as in the upgrade they’ve been promising for years? Could be, but I think they really have decided to block me, though I don’t know why they waited until now to do it. Why would they do anything that would shut out everybody for what’s been two days now? This is ok, though, as I cannot stand them. There are better sites that are free, though I haven’t been bothering to sweep lately. Not in this economy. Why sweep to lose? When the economy picks up and more people are working instead of sweeping and making the odds even more insane, then maybe I’ll go back to it.

Friday, July 3, 2009

To say that something up there is still determined to beat me over the head with other people’s dogs is an understatement! Let me back up to 6:30 Wednesday morning first when Whiskey went off. It took me forever to get him to shut up because he was going off on something behind the house. This made it harder for him to hear me over his racket, and I didn’t want to shout too loud and wake Tom up.

Yesterday morning, however, two of the renter’s dogs came barking onto the land. They were actually on their way down in back, as is their usual route. Sure enough, they shied away from Tom as he went out and headed toward them. The dogs did look thin, but I don’t know if I’d go so far as to say they’re malnourished. I think that’s just the way these dogs are. I also had to wonder if I was yelling at the wrong dog the morning before which would explain why the magic words didn’t work right away, though I’m pretty sure it was Whiskey and that he just didn’t hear me right away due to where he was.

So after listening to their incredibly obnoxiously loud barking coming from just down in the ditch, I realized it was during business hours and decided to try calling Animal Patrol. I got a hold of a woman and the conversation went something like this:

ME: Hi, who can I report a couple of loose dogs to?

HER: You’re talking to her. Can I get your name and address?

(I give it to her, and the name/address of the dogs’ owners)

HER: And are you sure this is where they live?

ME: Yes. They’ve been complained about before by our landlord who lives just up the hill here. There are two large brown dogs. I know they’ve had up to 3 in the past, but we’ve been seeing two of them lately. One’s a pit bull and one’s missing a back leg. One also wears a blue collar.

HER: Okay, can I get a call-back number from you?

(I give it to her)

After we hung up we never did hear back from them, but we did hear a few more barks from in back. After about 20 minutes we heard nothing. With our shit luck, though, they never could catch the dogs, the freeloaders were out, and they’ll just ignore whatever calling card might’ve been left for them. Meanwhile, I hope Jesse’s here when they come barking onto the land tomorrow since he probably won’t be working being the day before July 4th. Then he can deal with the fucking things for once. But he won’t stay home longer than to sleep!

I still think the only way we’re going to be able to take care of these dogs and probably every other dog we’ll have to live with is to get a gun and shoot them. But we can’t afford a gun right now. This is why I’m hoping they either lost the dogs or have been ordered to tie them up before that typical defiant mood of theirs sets in once again and they turn them loose again in another 4-5 months when we might have extra money for a gun. I don’t know if it’s just defiance or if they figure that the next time around no one will complain or what, but I’m sick of this shit! If dogs didn’t bark I wouldn’t care so much. But they’re too damn loud. Especially at a time when we have our windows open. Typical testy, pushy, rude, inconsiderate freeloaders!

The only thing that makes me hesitant about a retirement community is that while they may not let their dogs run around loose there, and while they take them indoors at night, this is still the West. So do I really want to go back to having them just a few feet away from our place? They’re gonna toss them outside at 6am and basically forget about them until sundown, leaving me to be the one to have to deal with it. I need a quiet place for writing and most of the things I do, but even if I didn’t, I hate to have to sit and listen to such annoying racket! But a retirement community is better than the mainstream where anything goes, including lazy freeloaders, blasting music, wild kids and a million other nuisances.

The freeloaders aren’t the only ones with dogs that are putting us out. One of Jesse’s dogs chewed on a faucet and turned the water on and drained the tank while he was at work. I guess the water pressure was low for a while. And of course Jesse wouldn’t dare pick up a phone and tell us that way, so he came down on the ATV, no doubt psyched to have an opportunity to bug us and check us out while he was at it. After all, he hasn’t been down here in a few weeks, so I figured we would be due for a visit. I think the only reason we went for a couple of months in the winter was that it was cold and rainy. Anyway, I managed to sleep through it all even though I forgot my earplug.

He said he’s also using ditch water to fill the tank faster, so don’t drink from the sink for a couple of weeks, cuz that’s how long it’ll take for it to empty out of the tank. So now we’re put out by his dogs, too. Tom filled up our spare water bottle. My shower stunk like hell, sorta like burnt rubber. As Tom said, he probably used an old garden hose that had been sitting around for a while.

All in all, these are small stresses compared to back in the motel and even last winter when Tom was first laid off, but it still gets old. Especially the dogs. Every single fucking place I’ve ever lived in since leaving New England has had a problem with dogs. I don’t miss living there, but I miss a society that doesn’t think that dogs don’t belong indoors.

Been back on the vitamins for a few days now and now I’m not so sure there’s a connection with my weight. Yesterday I burned 180 calories in 50 minutes, but I don’t think my ass will ever get used to this bike seat. It’s a little better, though. Today I only burned 100 calories cuz I knew I wouldn’t be eating much anyway.

Created a dream blog on Blogger (not the kind I have when I’m awake), but couldn’t remember any dreams to document once I got up.

Saturday, July 4, 2009

Last night, just a few hours after Tom crashed, I ended up waking him up for no reason at all. Yeah, those fucking scammers are getting good! It really looked like it was saying we sent a payment from PayPal that I knew we didn’t send! And so I really thought someone hacked the account, but if I’d stopped to read the misspelled words first, I might not have gotten him up. I’d kick the crap outa you, whoever you are, even though Tom said he didn’t mind and returned to sleep shortly afterward.

We never did see or hear the freeloader’s dogs yesterday, but I don’t know what that means. It’s too soon to say. For all I know, AP never saw the dogs and never left a calling card. I’m hoping they’ve been scared into tying them up again, whether they caught them or not. Guess it’ll depend on what’s more important to them; pissing us off, or not risking losing the damn things.

Jesse’s dogs were loose yesterday and ran up to greet Tom on his way back from the store. He said they didn’t bark at all, but seemed glad to see a car coming in. Yeah, they’re probably attention-starved due to how often Jesse’s gone. He wasn’t there at the time, Tom said, which made him think he wouldn’t be gone long. I don’t know about that. I think it’s possible he might’ve started keeping them loose at all times no matter what.

I enrolled in Italian 202. Tom’s right, the scores mean nothing. Just doing the listening exercises dropped my score yet there was no test involved. You simply listen. I’ve kinda fallen for the speaker’s voice which helps. Her voice sounds really cool. There’s just something about it that makes learning more fun! It’s brewing some story ideas, but I doubt I’ll bother. I have enough other stuff to do and another open story still.

What I’ve read on Italian culture suggests I’d hate Italians. They’re Roman Catholic and very appearance-happy, often judging people solely on looks.

Anyway, Tom’s right. It’s a waste to pay attention to scores when it’s what I retain that matters most, and I do hate numbers after all. The more I review, the more it sticks. And drops my score!

My body’s going into “attack” mode after being in “sticker” mode for a week or so, so I should be 124 pounds within a week since it finally got the 125-pound marker to stick.

There’s been an update on Stacey’s case. I guess she’s really trying to fight it hard, cuz she was arraigned just the other day and has to go back to court in a few days, then again in early December. Originally she had a court date this month and one next month.

Finally a dream I remember well enough for my dream blog, as well as my regular journal, of course. We were renting from Jesse in the dream too, only the whole place looked different. The place itself, the layout of the land, everything was different. The land was flat and we could see Jesse’s place from ours. We were at the end of a long, old, ugly building, next to a busy road or maybe even a train track. I said to Tom, “Do you really think we’re the only ones?” He looked confused. Then I said, “It’s hard to believe he doesn’t have other renters in other parts of this place.”

Then sure enough, a door opened and a black woman, who was beautiful with her makeup applied perfectly, stood in the doorway holding a laundry basket. “I’m sorry,” she said with an apologetic smile. “I didn’t know anyone was living here.”

Then my mood turned totally somber as I saw all the kids in her place behind her, wondering how long it’d be before they got noisy and drove me crazy. I was also wondering how fast we could get a lock on the dividing door, and if the police could find the place easily enough should we ever need them to shut them up, if only for a while. I was surprised I hadn’t felt the vibration of the kids running around as of yet but knew it was just a matter of time before I would.

Sunday, July 5, 2009

Woke up at 124 pounds! I look in the mirror and say, "Is that really me? The person who thought she was too old to lose weight? The person who's well on her way to looking like one of the fitness people on TV?" Yes, my stomach really is just about flat as a pancake, and I don't think I even had this much muscle as a 26-year-old dancer who barely weighed 100 pounds! It's exciting, though I don't know why. It's not like I've never been thin before. I guess it's cuz I worked so hard to get here. Lots of sweat and hunger!

Monday, July 6, 2009

The puppy has officially become a problem. Yesterday morning at 10:00 I heard what I thought were sirens. Then I thought it was someone screaming in the distance before I realized the puppy was whining and making this obnoxious squeaking sound. Then I heard Jesse (at least I’m pretty sure it was him) calling to one of the dogs. I know it’ll become more and more frequent too, though Tom doesn’t think so. He also didn’t think last winter would be bad, but it was. In other news, the cold side of the water dispenser is leaking and I have a feeling it’ll take more time than it’s worth to open it up and fix it, so there’s yet another convenient and nice thing we’ll probably be losing. Then again, maybe we can cork the nozzle somehow. I awoke at 124 pounds again, but that’s only cuz I slept forever yesterday. Tom’s been sleeping a lot lately, too. I wonder what’s up with that?

Tuesday, July 7, 2009

Got a nice surprise on its way from my folks. Fortunately Tom got their call yesterday, but unfortunately for me, my allergies just had to pick yesterday of all days to pick on me for the first time in months. And so the Benadryl I had taken beforehand knocked me out.

Anyway, I thought he was saying they left a message on the cell at first, but they actually spoke on the landline. They were calling to say they’d shipped a package out that day and had a couple more on the way, which I found both exciting and shocking. I didn’t expect to ever again get packages from them, regardless of the time of year or what was going on, so it’s quite a surprise. I guess that due to costing them a fortune to save us, although we did offer to pay them back, may’ve been why I didn’t expect anything like this. We’ll both be looking forward to whatever’s in them! I think Tom said they said something like “odds and ends.”

They talked about things in general, and that’s pretty much it. They said not to worry about calling them back, but I probably will once we get all 3 packages, plus send a letter as I do every few weeks anyway.

Not much else to report on at this time other than that this is the first time I’ve gotten a new low to stick right away. Yeah, I awoke at 124 pounds for the third day in a row, but again I slept forever, so that may be why.

In Dreamland last night, I was in a huge house-like building where only women were housed. I don’t know if it was a school or what it was, but my so-called roommate was telling me about testifying for some girl that was either raped or murdered. At one point, seemingly early in the morning, I got up off my bed, picked up a pile of DVDs, and said I was going to go see if any food was put out yet and return the DVDs to the shelf in front of our would-be room. I guess we were originally going to get a ground-floor room in an area that had lots of activity as opposed to our upper-floor room that was more out of the way.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

We got to thinking about what could be in the package that’s on its way and so we were taking guesses, and since they said it was heavy and contained odds and ends, we’re guessing kitchen stuff. I hate to say it as it’s not like I still don’t appreciate their taking the time to send stuff, but I hope that’s not it. For two people who aren’t big on cooking, there’s nothing we really need right now in that department, plus we only have so much room to squeeze stuff into this tiny old trailer. Could also be knickknacks, and again, I kind of hope not. After all, I didn’t just sell tons of dolls because we were broke. I did it to save space and have less to have to dust.

I hope there won’t be any pictures of Larry, Tammy or their kids. Again, I just don’t care about any of them. Right or wrong, I don’t want to know they exist. I know a lot of people think forgiveness is only correct, and while there’s certainly nothing to forgive where the girls are concerned, and while I do remember the good times my sister and I had, as well as with my brother and I, I can’t stand them. I just can’t stand these people. And I know that to resume a relationship with them would only be asking for a new round of bullshit in a matter of months. It might even take years, but I don’t need it soon or not so soon. Neither does Tom.

It’s strange yet true that I got screwed over worse by my sister, in some ways, even though she and I were closer. Remember, Larry dumped me for a decade himself between the mid-80s and mid-90s. He had no contact with anyone in the family except for his saint of an uncle.

Tammy’s current husband, assuming they’re still married, probably abuses her be it physically or mentally or verbally or all of the above. And she probably gets off on it, even if it’s deep down on some sort of twisted subconscious level she’s not even aware of. But only she can get her life straightened out. Meanwhile, I’m preoccupied enough as it is trying to straighten my own life out and accept the fact that there’s a damn good chance my husband and I will always be poor and renting old dumps for the rest of our lives.

Despite getting shit on a little harder by her than by my brother, if I absolutely had to take one of them back into my life, it would definitely be her. She has helped me at times, particularly when I made the mistake of moving to S. Deerfield, and then the dumber mistake of moving to CT. My brother, on the other hand, never really did much for me.

I still can’t believe she turned on me like she did. Forget her actions leading me to jail. If I didn’t know there was a warrant out for my ass, she certainly couldn’t have known it. But why did she give the man who abused her my address so he could sic the pigs on me for telling him off??? Regardless of the fact that I didn’t go about it in the greatest manner, why would someone do that? I can only suspect that she still loved the guy, as sick as it is, but as they say, love is blind. It really is.

Sometimes I still want to ask her, hey, why’d you do that? Why’d you defend the guy who abused you and not your little sis, who just wanted to give him a piece of her mind? But no matter what her answer was, it couldn’t change anything. Or the fact that her actions ultimately led me to spend half a year in jail and lose thousands of dollars, not to mention the mental anguish I went through.

Come on Cali weather warm the hell up already! It’s what we moved here for, isn’t it? Then again, life isn’t usually what we plan it to be, and I didn’t plan for the last few mornings, in July of all months, to be so damn chilly.

For last night’s dreams, all I remember is being on a bus with Tom heading for wherever. The bus driver drove fast and dangerously, but I didn’t seem to mind.

I was also in the hospital for a back injury of some kind. The nurses there were rude to me, and then when Tom took me home he insisted I could still go about my usual routine. But I knew I wouldn’t be able to and was surprised he wasn’t telling me to take it easy.

Thursday, July 9, 2009

Yesterday morning I heard either Jesse’s dogs barking at a large vehicle in back or someone else’s dogs that sounded like his barking at a large vehicle from somewhere downhill. I went up to the fork to see if I could see anything at Jesse’s, but nope, nothing. No vehicles, no dogs.

Last night I dreamt that I had to pee, but Tom was in the bathroom. I told myself, “That’s ok. There are 5 bathrooms in here.”

I can’t imagine us ever having the luxury of an extra half-bath again in real life, let alone 5 baths!

I also dreamt of Jasmine, someone on Kiwi, and of watching her die. It was really weird too, and I’m not sure how she died, but it was recorded on tape as I just sat back and watched in shock. Tom and I were listening to the tape afterward, trying to decide what we should do about it. Then she was in another dream where she was talking in her journal about looking at 8 years of prison time for whatever.

Lastly, I dreamt that Tom and I were browsing through a gift shop. There were these beautiful little figurines that were unpainted. I wanted to buy a few, plus some paints, and sell them online once I’d painted them. But we were so broke we couldn’t afford the $10 figurines or the $30 paints.

Friday, July 10, 2009

I was beyond stunned when I awoke at 123 pounds this morning. Especially since I haven’t really been doing anything the last few days to get down here. Yet when I hit 124, it stuck right away unlike ever before when I’d hit a new low. And this is also the fastest I’ve lost a pound after losing the last one. It hasn’t even been a week, and like I said, I haven’t been dieting or exercising much lately. I just need to take a few days off every now and then. It’s not like I haven’t been riding at all, just not enough to even burn 100 calories a day, and I’ve been having around 1500 calories a day. Once I even went as high as 2000, something I only do once or twice a month.

I guess getting the bike trainer has really gotten things going again! I really thought I was forever stuck at 125 for a while there cuz that’s what I weighed for 3 months in a row. Not sure where I’m going from here. I suppose I may look best at 95-100 for someone barely 5’ tall, though I’ll settle for 110-115. Some might say I didn’t look like I needed to lose anymore since I do look less than I actually am with all this muscle, but you know we’re our own worst critics, never happy with where we’re at. I’ll take another set of progress pics at 120.

It’s so weird walking up to the mirror and seeing a person who’s no longer fat, who’s hourglass-shaped and looks a lot like a fitness person on a DVD. I’m really lucky. Especially since even a lot of the young folks these days are heavy. One exercise doesn’t do it all, though. I still gotta throw myself on the floor for dozens of crunches, and work my arms, too. It took a lot of hunger and sweat to get here, that’s for sure! I wish it were as easy as learning languages, but it’s not. At least not when it comes to the Romance languages.

Got a message from a guy saying he read my journal, thought it was great, and would be honored if I’d post it to his site, so I did. I started with the first chapter of We’ll Meet Again Someday and the New England part of my revamped bio.

Anyway, it’s kind of like Kiwibox, only it’s more for writers to connect and submit their stories, poems, diaries and essays for feedback, than for socializing, and they don’t do games/points/prizes.

Saturday, July 11, 2009

I’m currently proofreading the S. Deerfield months back in late 1991. Yes, I was a prankster who was 100% guilty as charged with the prank calls she made, but when I read back on the lies, the exaggerations, the manipulations, the threats, and all the other shit on the part of the cops, it’s no wonder I’ve come to hate pigs so damn much! And this was before I got screwed over a million times worse on the other side of the country a decade later. It seems so many of them do more harm than good.

The story of the cop who got off scot-free from running a sunbather over on a Florida beach really made my blood boil. I hope that woman isn’t anything like me. If she is she’d give the courts an ultimatum: Either charge and punish the piece of shit appropriately, or I’ll get a gun and shoot the bastard!

And I would, too. So help me God, the day I’m ever screwed over again by another pig or another white-hating, Jew-hating racist like Joely N, will be the day I’ll no longer be able to complain that God protects every person that’s ever burned me, big or small.

We were surprised with some clouds and a little bit of drizzle AFTER Tom loaded the flooring onto the porch and AFTER he twisted his back the other day. Not wanting to be embarrassed by having to hobble around like an old man, we’re giving his back another day to get better before we call Jesse down to check it out. Assuming he’s still interested, that is.

Let’s see… che altro? Niente.

Monday, July 13, 2009

Here’s a long, shocking yet exciting update.

I got package #1 from my folks and was pleasantly surprised with its contents which were mostly clothes! Clothes were our last guess cuz Dad said it was heavy (although we didn’t find it that heavy at all). We were thinking it was kitchen stuff. We don’t like to cook much, we don’t entertain, and we pretty much have everything we need in that department with little room to squeeze any more into our tiny little kitchen, so I’m glad we were wrong.

The clothes consisted of 2 pairs of pants, 2 pairs of denim shorts, a combination of shorts/halters, 2 sweatshirts, 1 sweater, 10 short-sleeved tops, 1 sleeveless top, 1 pair of pajamas, and half a dozen nightgowns/housedresses. All but just a few were beautiful! Very stylish and colorful. I love neons and pastels, though white and black are ok for neutrals cuz everything goes with white and black. If I could only own 4 pairs of pants, they’d be white, black, pink and purple. I think most of these were Mom’s at one point, but it doesn’t matter. I really appreciate having all this nice variety for once after wearing mostly the same things for so long. The clothes are casual and comfortable yet still lovely and feminine enough to keep them from being frumpy and dumpy. Some of the tops have beads and sequins around the necklines that are just so nice.

I love how the shorts are denim as that too, goes with anything. I also love how I don’t have to hem the long pants! Some of the clothes were a bit big on me, but loose doesn’t necessarily mean unwearable. I don’t like things too tight anyway, and I personally like how the shorts hang off my hips as opposed to grabbing me by the waist. With a shorter top, it shows off the distinct waistline I slaved so hard to get. Keeping that hourglass shape at this age isn’t easy.

I’m now 123 pounds, and probably between a size 8/10 to be exact. Not the 3/5 that I was 15 years ago, but not the 14/16 that I was a year ago either. The dress I got with the K-Mart card I won is size small. I still don’t know at this time how much smaller I’m gonna get. If it’s much more I’ll need to get my ring squashed back. In 2001 I thought I’d be big all my life and so I had my ring enlarged. I can wear it now, but need to take it off for showers or when doing dishes. Tom’s guessing I’ll bottom out at 115 pounds. Yeah, 110-115 seems reasonable. I both do and don’t want to lose more. I do because I’m curious to see if I can, I know I’d look better, and you know enough is never enough for me. But I don’t want these clothes or this ring to get any looser.

Anyway, broke or not, clothes hadn’t been a high priority for quite a while and I would only get what I needed or won. Although I may’ve been depriving myself of goodies for the sake of money, I’m only human, too. So it’s nice to be surprised with treats like this every now and then, and it’s after you’ve gone without for a while that you appreciate being spoiled all the more.

I’m definitely not like most women in the jewelry department. I almost never wear makeup or jewelry except for my wedding band, although I recently saw a $17 necklace that was to die for, even though I won’t let myself get anything I don’t need. For the most part anyway. The necklace had these shiny pink gems that were just gorgeous. Maybe with my paycheck for doing online work at InboxDollars, I’ll treat myself to something. And maybe I’ll get that $6 Black Opium roll-on perfumed body oil I really love at Long’s when I receive the coins they said are on the way. Yeah, I spoke to my folks today and they have a few more packages coming. One contains some half-dollars and silver dollars they’ve been saving around the house.

They also sent a picture of themselves sitting in a restaurant that was taken a year ago, according to the date on the back. They’re really looking old now, especially mom. Dad’s hair has gone from gray to white and his hairline has receded even more, but they both look happy nonetheless, and they are in their late 70s.

There were also some notepads, a box of VERY sour candies, a bottle of sweet pea and violet body wash, and 3 fancy storage boxes. I’m going to use one for doll clothes.

They said they’re also sending a couple of pairs of shorts for Tom. If they’re too small for him, maybe that’ll motivate him to lose weight. He had to stop riding for a few days due to twisting his back, though he is still dieting.

Yay, I got the Pearberry lotion and grape lip gloss I redeemed points for from Kiwi! Now I can let Mike have it for being such a liar about doing “something sweet” for the gamers who haven’t gotten points for months now.

Now for the shocker of the day. I got a letter from Rosa! She learned some English and wrote the first few sentences in English. She says sorry it took so long to write, she was happy to receive my letter, it brought a smile to her face, it was good to hear I’m living “right,” thanks for the nice things I said, she’s fine, into God like most inmates, but almost doesn’t remember me well and would like a picture. She’s also going to send a picture, she says, so I can see how ugly she is (with a smiley face at the end of that sentence). She signed off referring to me as her friend and sister. Yeah, we sure were like sisters, alright! I’ve always missed the hell out of her. I knew she would remember me, but I can see where her memory may also be a bit shaky with all the people she’s had to have encountered over the last decade. She enclosed a picture of a beautiful waterfall and rainbow which I put on the fridge next to my folk’s picture.

I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe it! Rosa and I swapped letters! We’re in touch again. I’ll never see my sister again, but it’s still so nice to finally know what became of her, even though the truth isn’t good. I really thought she’d been deported. It saddens me to think she’ll be in prison till she’s around my age, guilty or not. I’ll get a letter in both English and Spanish out to her within a few days. That way she can have the choice of reading whichever language she wants. I’ll also enclose a few pictures taken over the last decade.

If someone had told me a couple of years ago that I’d one day be in touch with my folks and Rosa, and lose 25 pounds, I’d have laughed my ass off. So you could say that while our lives haven’t exactly been what we had in mind since coming down here, it’s definitely been full of surprises. My folks didn’t save me from the Brattleboro Retreat, they didn’t save me from Valleyhead, but they sure saved my husband and I both from starving in the streets!

I also got a brief but nice card from Mary, thanking me for agreeing to send the stuff she asked for to Scott’s office. She said she understood we couldn’t do much as broke as we are, is psyched we’re saving for a house and knows we’ll get our dream house someday. I hope she and Tom are right, cuz sometimes I don’t know what to think!

It looks like our water dispenser quit leaking, so that’s good.

Jesse never came down about the flooring, so I guess we’re going to list it on Craigslist if he still doesn’t want it come next weekend.

Tuesday, July 14, 2009

Although I doubt it’ll do me any good, I filed a complaint against OLS on Ripoff Report and added my complaint to the growing list of complaints already there.

Until the next problem with the well, the water is now drinkable again.

Picked up some groceries today and even that Black Opium roll-on perfumed body oil I’ve been wanting. Smells great!

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Well, well, what a coincidence. The very day after I file a complaint against OLS on Ripoff Report for blocking my IP for speaking out against them and their shitty service, I’m now magically able to get into their site!

Tom had originally thought a week ago when I first couldn’t get in that it wasn’t me personally they were blocking, but everybody, probably due to either an upgrade or something malfunctioning. But after a week had passed I seriously doubted they’d have everybody blocked out for that long no matter what. There’s no talk of it that I can find in the threads. And as always, nothing’s changed. All that’s changed is that the banner that promised the upgrade that never happens is now clickable with a link to all kinds of promises that this upgrade is supposed to entail with a goal of September.

I’ll never know for sure, but I’d say it’s due to either my complaint or someone connected to them reading my journal. They do keep tabs on me, after all, as they’ve already proven, and the link to my journal is still on the site anyway. Meanwhile, I’ll just use them for dailies, weeklies and monthlies and take advantage of the convenient Shazam feature, then I’ll be done with them when my premium membership expires in October. I thought it was November, but Tom checked and that was indeed when we paid them.

When I was checking to see if they changed anything within my account, I got a kick out of how it said I couldn’t renew my premium membership as long as I was banned.

Haha, don’t flatter yourselves, OLS, I’m done with you on October 18th! But until then you better grant me the full access I’m paying for – and yes I know Brent’s little spying drones are reading this – or I’ll getcha again. And it won’t be just via the Ripoff Report!

Oh, and Mike’s still promising me the points I haven’t gotten since May, but I’ll believe it when I see it. The games are no longer going to be for points from here on out. sighs All good things really do come to an end.

Anyway, that’s all I’ll say right now as I’m still pretty busy with cleaning, organizing and my online work. It’s been nothing but go, go, go ever since I got up!

Thursday, July 16, 2009

Got 3 boxes from my folks, but no coins yet. This time around it was mostly bath, body and bedroom stuff. A pretty shower curtain. A hideously ugly comforter that I’ve got underneath the sheet for extra softness. Then there’s this really soft brown thing with zippers and snaps on it that I can’t figure out for the life of me what it’s for. I decided to use it as a drape in the front bedroom window. It should block out the fierce morning sun quite well. There were two sets of sheets. Again, they were dull earth tones, but one of them is kind of satiny which is cool. We could really use extra sheets too, no matter what the color. There was a throw that appears to have been a 50th anniversary present from the drama queen in 2001. Where was I then? Suffering in jail partly due to her.

There was a pair of Capri’s and two pairs of shorts for Tom that are too snug. Now we both have robes cuz there was a huge, white terrycloth robe that he can enjoy in the winter.

There were a couple of large, beautiful mugs with palms on them. I love palms and cacti.

There were a few hair accessories like headbands, combs and brushes. Shampoo, conditioner and some lotion that came in perfect timing. The hand lotion I keep on my desk ran out, so now I have more.

I see they’ve been hotel hoarders too, as there were soups and shampoos that obviously came from places like the Days Inn and La Quinta. There was also some makeup, but I won’t tell her that some of it will go back to Florida and to Mary, even though they always said to do what I wanted with whatever they sent. Some of the lipsticks, and one of the eye pallets, just aren’t my color.

I’ve been wanting to try Jergen’s glow lotion that’s supposed to darken you a few shades in a few days but didn’t want to spend money we didn’t have on non-necessities, so I was glad to get a tube to try, even though it’s for medium to dark skin and not for the whole body. One’s for the face, the other for the legs, though I don’t see why I couldn’t use it elsewhere. For now, I’m just starting with the face to see what it does.

I love Olay products, but due to how expensive they are, I never buy any. But I sure love getting Regenerist samples, though, and I’m sure I’ll love this facial stuff she sent.

I’ve also been wanting to try that raw mineral foundation, though I don’t know that it does much for me. Maybe I’ve just gotten so ugly that nothing helps, LOL!

The Caramel Latte and Nude lipsticks were practically invisible on me. I prefer to go with brighter pinks and I prefer glosses to sticks for the added moisture they provide.

One of the most interesting things was this hair-removal thing that’s painless and doesn’t leave any razor burn to have to deal with. You basically rub these little sandpaper-like things wherever you want to remove hair. Between the legs would certainly be a nice place to start, but I think I’ll have to trim things a bit down there first to make it easier. It seems promising, though, based on the test spot I did on my forearm.

There was also some toothpaste Tom could use, and some breath-freshening gum for me, since Tom hates gum. He hates nuts too, so the rats and I are enjoying the Spanish peanuts. Well, they’ll be enjoying them more than I will cuz while I like them a lot, my teeth don’t appreciate them at all, and nuts are horrible diet food being so high-cal.

Speaking of teeth, that sour candy they sent in the first package nearly killed me. I was in such agony that I was seriously contemplating pulling my teeth! I still think I’m going to eventually have to numb the gums with Ambosol and pull one tooth at a time. I’m simply no closer to having the money or the insurance needed to see a dentist. For now, we’ve agreed that it may be wise to get a $30 Water Pik from Walmart to at least help with plaque and shit like that. Today I also got these stick-like things for flossing and they seem to be easier to use than the wooden ones I used to use. These are flexible ones with rubber tips.

Let’s see… what else? Baby powder, band-aids, scissors, sunscreen. All kinds of things we could always use. Even some office stuff like pens, tape and paperclips. All stuff we really appreciate them taking the time to send.

Anyway, tomorrow I gotta really jump back on the diet wagon, and hopefully get Rosa’s letter done and do some more proofreading on both my story and old journals. With all the other things we’ve had going on, I haven’t been doing as much computer work.

Every now and then I have these moments when I think to myself, aw, screw Larry, but at least patch things up with Tammy. You guys got along better and better as you got older, she’s not all bad, you’re not perfect yourself, and don’t you miss laughing and joking with her about whatever and want to know what’s up with your nieces?

But quite frankly, and as cruel as it may sound, I don’t care what’s up with anyone, I can laugh and joke with others, we still don’t have much in common, we still live nearly 3000 miles apart, and she still caused me to end up in jail. Not knowingly. Not intentionally. Maybe not even directly. But the fact still remains that she did. And nothing can change that.

If my nieces suddenly showed up at our door starving, I would give them food despite the fact that two of them are virtual strangers, and no, I wouldn’t run the other way if I saw my sister walking down the other side of the street, but I don’t think I could ever bring myself to feel differently if I tried and if I wanted to. Do I want to? Do I really want to? I don’t think so. I think I like the comfort I get from keeping a safe distance.

Saturday, July 18, 2009

Hadn’t planned to write this weekend because I’ve been busy proofreading Rainbow Dreams.

Again I heard what I thought was Brandy barking, followed by Whiskey going off on something in back of the house, but Tom insists it was coming from the people with the goats. Oh, great, so now I gotta listen to this one every so often, too? It’s not as loud as Jesse’s dogs barking in front here, but it’s audible enough. Especially with the windows open. As I said before, I’m totally dreading the winter! And not just cuz of the cold that I hate so much.

It’s been a little over 100º lately and I’m surprised but pleased that there hasn’t been any barking in the evening until now. Or late at night.

We had another fly invasion no doubt due to all the mice we killed underneath the place. That poison bait sure does work as it’s been mighty quieter under there! Anyway, mice may be super cute, but they’re a nuisance when they’re alive and a nuisance when they’re dead! Hopefully, the flies will clear out soon enough.

So Tom did get the TV back after all. Don’t get too used to it, I told him. We’re so damn broke that we’ll have to sell it to get his Mac back, which he’d prefer more than the TV, then we might even have to sell the Mac, too. He doesn’t think we’ll have to sell either one, but he always assumes the best, even if it doesn’t seem like he should have any reason to. I just wonder what we’ll do when we run out of things to sell. Especially since I just can’t seem to win shit anymore.

I’m going to enjoy the TV for now as watching movies and old reruns really makes the bike riding go faster than when I listen to music.

I had to laugh at the “Just Want to Say Goodbye” thread I saw on OLS earlier. Yet another one who’s sick of the “mob of mentality” and getting chewed out when they don’t agree 100% with everyone else. Yeah, that’s OLS for you. Most forums are like that in that the majority will attack the minority, but OLS does have its share of hardcore flamethrowers. And even though it says in the rules that it’s not allowed, it goes on and on, unchecked and unmodified. It all depends on whether or not you’re a friend of Brent’s or the Mods. If you are, then you can do whatever you want.

I’m just getting over what was the wimpiest period in years. I swear it was 80% PMS and 20% period. Maybe even 90/10. I wish I could say it was menopause setting in, but I know I’m much too young for that yet.

I’m posting We’ll Meet Again Someday on Book Mania and am amazed at all the “fans” and feedback I’ve been getting in regards to it. There are some awesome inspiring writers there!

Sunday, July 19, 2009

I knew I was due for a wake-up call anytime now. But it wasn’t in the way of loud motorcycles, helicopters or barking. It came in the form of mom instead. Yeah, she’s as rude and selfish as she is generous, LOL! She had Tom wake me up. At first I thought something was wrong, but then I could tell by Tom’s expression that everything was ok.

So, heart pounding strangely hard and seemingly erratic, breath short, I trudged out of bed and spoke to her.

Once again I’m not so sure she’s entirely with it anymore. I just don’t get why she couldn’t tell/ask Tom the same things she told/asked me. Did she think he wouldn’t tell me what she said? Hmmm…interesting. Is she really still with it? I’m just not sure. I mean, I guess she sounded coherent enough, but IDK, there was just something about the way she spoke that made me wonder. Tom said she sounded really excited to talk to me. She wanted to know about the packages, but like I said, Tom could’ve told her about that. I didn’t need to be woken up to tell her myself, but Tom said he won’t answer the phone when I’m asleep from now on. I told him he could if he wanted to, just tell them I’m out with a friend or out running if he doesn’t want to tell them I’m asleep, not that I’ll always be asleep whenever they call. I just didn’t think either of them would call again so soon after the last call being so recent, but as I told her, the plan was to call her Monday if we didn’t get another package and get the tracking info I wish we’d already gotten from them. If the package is there tomorrow, as we think it will be, I was then going to send a letter with a detailed package review and more.

Once again I’m convinced that sending her the medical article on my sleep disorder was pointless as they just don’t get it. However, this is the one thing I can’t fault them for not getting. As I said before, I don’t think even I could understand how it could be so hard to keep a schedule for more than a week or two at a time if I hadn’t experienced that problem myself. Some things we just can’t relate to no matter how smart or sensitive we may be. So that’s why she was asking why I was asleep when it was such a beautiful day.

Anyway, I only talked to Mom. Dad was at the store. At least I think that’s where she said he was. I was too brain-dead to remember her answer, though I know I did ask.

Oh, and she says she’s sending a DVD of her and dad swimming with dolphins. That oughta be way cool. I’ve always wanted to do that. I tried to win a trip to do just that and fly in a helicopter and ride in a speedboat going over 100 MPH. Mom would definitely never do those last two things!

Just why is lost sleep so hard on me, though? I just don’t get it. If I were in jail now instead of 9 years ago, the lack of sleep would probably kill me for sure. I just don’t understand how it can be so hard on someone who works out regularly and doesn’t smoke. I was only shorted an hour or two, too.

Unable to fall back asleep right away, I got up and rode the bike, but could only stand to burn 100 calories when I had to stop due to chest pains and shortness of breath. Is something wrong with my heart or lungs? I don’t think so, but it’s weird, and kind of annoying, too. There better not be anything wrong. I’m uninsured! I doubt there is, though.

After I rode I showered and then ate. It was then that I could nap for a few hours. I feel more refreshed, but still a bit groggy. The chest aches – cramps – or whatever they really are have passed, but I still feel a bit short of breath. Could be due to the nail polish I applied a little while ago, though, and the bleach I’m washing clothes in now. Either way, I like this bright reddish-orange polish ma sent. It’s a pretty color for not being those metallic chrome polishes I love so much.

Can’t think of anything else to say right now, other than how it’s frustrating having so much trouble seeing. As Tom says, I need bifocals. We’re tentatively planning to go to Walmart in September and deal with it then, but I’m sure something will come up and make sure we’re too broke to have it be worth bothering with at that time. It sure would be nice, though, and I’m glad it won’t cost nearly as much as it costs for me to get the dentures I need and am no closer to getting.

The hair removal thing turned out to be a bust.

Here goes a wave of chest pains.

Monday, July 20, 2009

Got the package with the coins today. They weren’t all half and silver dollars, though. Some of it was regular change. It came to nearly $30 worth, and as always, any bit helps.

There were also things like clothes, handbags and bath stuff. Plus, a couple of pictures of them, a cute pink teddy bear that’s really soft, and some poker-related stuff I don’t know what we’ll do with. I’ve never really been a poker player, but Tom is.

Last night I looked up my symptoms and if they had a contest as to who could say they’ve had the most symptoms any disease has to offer, I’d win the heart failure one for sure! I’ve got intermittent chest pains and shortness of breath, particularly with exercise, though I thought we were supposed to get a little breathy when working out anyway. I’ve also had dizziness, lightheadedness, bloating and water retention AFTER my period, half-assed or not. No swelling in the legs or ankles, though. I’ve had dry coughing, sometimes with a little wheeze, fatigue, palpitations, and rapid heartbeat, and have had times where I’ve either gained 2 pounds in one day or 5 in a week. I wrote that off, though, to sometimes getting carried away with overeating or water gain from PMS. No loss of appetite, nausea, or trouble breathing lying flat, as are also symptoms, but I have had chest pain or discomfort during activity that’s relieved with rest.

I still say it’s asthma and anxiety despite the uncanny number of symptoms I have. I may not be nearly as stressed out as I was when he was first laid off, but hey, we are on unemployment and that’s nothing to rest easy over. And as for my asthma, well it’s something that never really goes away even if improves greatly after quitting smoking.

The water pressure was low at one point, and I thought, oh shit, here we go again with the well games. The stupid idiot either left a faucet on or one of the dogs he shouldn’t have managed to turn it on. So Tom left a message on Jesse’s machine and I started to worry he was out of town. But then the water pressure quickly rose back up and all has been fine ever since. With one slight catch. The bastard, or Maryann, never had the decency to tell us they switched back to the ditch yet again. I could smell it as soon as I went to do the dishes. Had it not been for my doggy nose I might’ve drunk it and ended up puking. So Tom and I decided we’d just stick to bottled water from now on so as to avoid having to go through this bullshit every time there’s a problem. Since he had to get a loaf of bread anyway, we decided to take advantage of the nighttime when it’s less crowded at the stores and not as hot since there would be no sun glaring down on us and went to the cheaper grocery store by the old mail place around 10:30.

After we filled up our two 5-gallon bottles, we threw our diets to the wind and grabbed some treats. Ice cream, cookies, caramel chews, etc. Then I mailed a letter with a detailed package review to my folks, and we came back and pigged out!

Saturday, July 25, 2009

Tom listed the flooring yesterday. He wanted to do it the day before, but there were a couple of ads for more flooring for cheaper, and he didn’t want to be asking for more and selling less right along with them. I hope the ads were taken down yesterday because the items sold and not for any other reason. Better yet, I hope ours sells and not for pennies! I’m sick of people trying to get a deal from us. Giving someone a deal is one thing, but seeing them trying to gain at our expense or expecting us to give to them for nothing is another. It sickens me just how many greedy people there are out there who can only think of themselves. I sometimes feel like we were put here to make or save other people money while we spend most of the time struggling.

While they may want to get whatever they can get from us, people are otherwise quite generous when it comes to languages. I’m amazed at the offers I’ve gotten for help with my Italian and Portuguese. I’m more of a self-taught kind of person, but occasionally I have a question I wouldn’t mind asking someone who should know better than me.

Later…

I just got a sorry reminder of why I rarely read the news. Yeah, learning that this country just gave $200m in aid to Pakistan, a bunch of low-life terrorists who treat women like animals, while my husband and I continue to sit here broke, jobless and uninsured, doesn’t sit well with me. Almost every adult in the US could’ve been given one of those millions.

And then the tall tales of slavery keep coming into play too, and I have to wonder what the past has to do with the here and now and why people still fall for those stories. They wanted to come over here from Africa and work. But just cuz they decided they didn’t like working and therefore cried slavery since they couldn’t get back home so easily, doesn’t mean slavery really ever existed. I think that if any of it really did happen, it’s been greatly exaggerated over the years. That’s just blacks for you, in my opinion. When they didn’t want to work, they cried slavery. Today, when they can’t get their way, they cry racism. And I once tried so hard to give these people a chance, telling myself that there’s good and bad in every kind. Ah, but when 9 out of 10 of you are bad news as opposed to 7 out of 10, it’s kind of hard to keep an open mind, you know? But when has anyone gay ever done anything directly to you or to someone you’re close to that’s really bad? I’m sure even you agree that you don’t see them “gang-banging” or being notorious for crime and welfare.

And why aren’t people protesting at the government’s office against them giving our money away by the millions? It’s one thing to give a little bit of aid to those caught up in natural disasters, but Pakistanis? These people don’t want to help themselves any more than most Mexicans do!

Tom’s going to call a dental college on Monday that sees people based on a sliding scale fee, but I’m sure they won’t be able to help me. I still say that the only one who can help me is me and that it’ll be up to me to pull my own teeth. If our lovely God wanted me to have any help, then He wouldn’t have seen to it that I’ve been uninsured for 5 years and counting. Nor would He have us be this broke this late in life if it weren’t meant to be this way indefinitely.

I simply see absolutely no change in sight for a long, long time and that’s a hard pill to swallow. Knowing we’re more than likely going to spend the rest of our lives living like bums and having to do without some of the things we need is a really tough burden to carry around on one’s shoulders. It really has a way of taking the fun out of life. I just don’t look forward to getting out of bed each day like I used to. The future simply no longer holds the hope and the promise that it once at least seemed to hold. Instead, there’s nothing but the same old guaranteed pain and poverty each day. So I live in a bottle of Aleve, knowing that money will be a never-ending problem for us till the day we die in SOMEONE ELSE’S trashy trailer, and not our own home.

Tom read an interesting article that suggests one reason I’m good with languages is that I was exposed to Hebrew and Yiddish when I was between 6-18 months old when the brain learns to identify sounds. There’s no L sound in Japanese, and when they did a study amongst Japanese babies, the ones who were exposed to the L sound had an easier time learning English than those who weren’t. They would make sounds like loo-loo, la-la and stuff like that.

We moved in right next to my grandparents right before I was born, and they spoke some Hebrew, so this theory makes sense. I would have been more exposed to it than my older siblings. Nana and Pa would have been in and out more often with us living right next door, and it wasn’t uncommon for them – especially Nana – to mutter something or another in Hebrew or Yiddish.

I also have a song in Japanese that I always thought was so pretty. I can sing along with it even though I don’t know what the words mean. Tom, on the other hand, can’t make sense of the words he hears in order to follow along himself. So I’m hearing what a lot of folks can’t, and that’s also part of what makes me good with singing and instruments, even if I rarely sing anymore and never play instruments anymore either.

No calls so far for the flooring. Gee, what a surprise. Like maybe God’s put a money curse on us, huh? It’s frustrating wanting to let Him have it for allowing us to continue to go through this shit and for not answering my prayers for help, but knowing I can’t tear into Him or else He’ll punish us like He always would when I’d give him a piece of my mind. Blowing off steam at Him isn’t worth putting our lives on the line.

Anyway, Tom believes they can help me with my teeth, but because it’s not infected or any type of life-and-death crisis, I won’t be their top priority. Yeah, that’s part of the problem in this world. Nothing seems to happen until it does become a crisis, but no one wants to get to the point that they’re in a crisis either. It seems like a no-win situation all around.

Later…

Mom sent me B-cup bras when I’m still a C. Don’t ask me where these damn things came from. All I know is that I was wonderfully flat till my early 30s, then they just showed up one day. That’s okay, I intend to improve my grade soon enough!

Well, I’m going to be sending them something of my own soon enough. My latest short story. That is after I finish proofreading it and make them into a couple of the characters. Yeah, I thought they’d get a kick out of me replacing a couple of the original characters’ names with their names. I thought Mom could be one of the inmates while Dad got to play DA. I’ll also weed out the intimate parts, but won’t worry about the online version since I know they don’t have online access. Gay or straight characters, it’d be weird sending my own folks something of a sexual nature, so that’s why I’m editing it out of their copy. If anyone online doesn’t like it, no prob, just don’t read it! Still don’t know if I’ll post it here, though, or just to my blog only.

Woke up Wednesday afternoon to Tom’s cooking smells. He said it was no problem for him to have sandwiches while I’m asleep, but why bother? There’ll just be something else waking me up whenever I’m on nights. No chest pain, though, or shortness of breath, so I think the reason I had it when my mother insisted Tom wake me up for reasons I still don’t get had to do with me having to get up out of bed the instant I was woken up, unlike the last time where I could just lay there a while till I got up.

Although I did manage to sleep just fine the last time around, I was so pissed when I got up and found I was just two-tenths down from the 125.6 pounds I crashed at. Had I gone to bed at night I’d have been back to 123.

I’m also pissed that our deep fryer is broken.

Sunday, July 26, 2009

I learned more about our lovely government throwing our money away, and it wasn’t to Pakistan, it was to Palestine this last time around. I get the Paks and the Pals mixed up. And it has nothing to do with aiding them due to poverty. I guess it’s a bribe to try to get them to leave Israel the fuck alone so they don’t nuke them. Still, it’s no excuse to give away our money when there are so many people right here who need it. If Israel’s gonna nuke them, they’re gonna nuke them. Period. And I can’t believe our government is stupid enough not to keep in mind the fact that the Palestinians are manipulative little terrorists who are going to do what they do best anyway, and that’s to treat their women like animals and try to make as many other people as miserable as possible. So paying them off won’t change things. They are who they are. And Israel’s going to deal with them as they see fit. Meanwhile, people like us sit here and continue to struggle just to pay the rent and make ends meet.

This is a classic reason why I hate people in general and would never want more than the few friends I have. Tom and I were talking about it and I said, “How can this country not see that by throwing all our money away, we’re setting ourselves up to become impoverished ourselves?”

He said, “They’re screwed up,” and I said, “That’s BEYOND screwed up!”

But I guess they think that by helping other countries become better countries – not that it should be our responsibility to help better other people/countries – they’re making it less likely for them to come over here. But since they can’t say “no” to those coming over here, what difference does it make if we pay them to live there versus to live here? We’re still giving our much-needed money away. It’s like gee, why don’t we just all go out and get jobs as soon as we can and send our paychecks off to Africa or something?!

Maybe the people who are giving our money away need to come live like trailer trash for a while, having to sell things just to survive, and not always having enough to eat, and needing to have their teeth removed. Or maybe they should do even worse and just throw themselves out on the streets with absolutely nothing for a while. Maybe then they’ll think of their own people first.

And our fucking president is just yet another liar full of false promises. They’ll say anything to get elected. Anything. And that doesn’t take much. If you can just convince people you hate gays and will make life better for everyone else but them, they’ll keep falling for the same old BS every 4 years. I still say this one made it, though, cuz he’s black.

I complained to the White House via email, though I don’t expect it to do me any good other than to vent.

Tom and I have been having some strange experiences. As I lay in bed waiting for sleep last night – or this morning I should say – I had a little talk with God. I reminded Him that I don’t exactly have the guts to kill myself (unless anything happened to Tom or we were faced with homelessness) and that I also believe my life is “over” so to speak. I simply don’t want to live the rest of my life struggling in someone else’s dump. I said that Tom would be lonely for a while, but that he’d be better off. He’d save money and could trash the place without me nagging him about being a slob. So I asked for a sign. I asked that He have my heart act up again if He was going to take me soon.

To my utter shock, and yes, even delight – despite having to once fight to live not so long ago – the palpitations started up! I couldn’t have written it off to wishful thinking if I tried, it was that obvious. Does this mean I’m going to die soon of heart failure? Sometimes I wish I could believe that it does, but I doubt it. With my shit luck, I’m going to be cursed with a lot of “life” to come, and so I just try to look at the bright side of living. We may be poor, we may never own our own home, but we do have each other. And I do like to write and I have more languages I want to learn. I still love music, too.

Shitty life or not, the amount of heart failure symptoms I’ve been having and their frequency is kind of weird. But if it’s really connected to my heart, then why hasn’t it killed me yet? Could it be something else? Well, at least I have a mystery to sit and ponder. I even started retaining water and it’s at a time when I shouldn’t be and it’s one of the symptoms. Even Tom could see it. It seemed to happen so suddenly, too. Not even tea would help.

As for Tom, he couldn’t walk for 15 minutes! I was asleep when he got up from the couch and totally could not walk. He leaned on the chair and tried to limp into it, but his hip hurt like hell. When he tried to step on that leg it felt as if his leg would snap off at the hip, so he was completely immobile for a while there. We have no idea what could’ve caused it.

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Tom and I were debating what makes a professional singer/dancer and whether or not I was in fact these things. He considers a pro one who gets regularly paid for whatever. I find the word “pro” stretching it a bit when you consider the fact that it was for patrons in bars.

After today I sit and wonder, could this be the start of things FINALLY starting to happen? Is life slowly but surely about to resume itself for us? I hope so! Tom made a call today about my teeth and we have to go fill out some eligibility forms once my schedule wraps around a little further. When they see how poor we are, then maybe the county will do something about these damn teeth of mine. I’m sure we’ll have to wait 5 hours for something that’ll take just minutes, but that’s the price you pay when you’re broke and probably always will be.

Also, Tom was swapping emails with someone just over the Nevada border wanting the flooring. After they already talked the price down, since people expect us to just give things to them for nothing or very close to it, they talked about meeting halfway. Tom said he told them he’d go all the way into Nevada if they’d be willing to pay the gas, but I don’t know if I like that idea. I wouldn’t be so quick to trust that I’d get paid, so I’d at least insist on the gas money up front.

Meanwhile, I’m sure the rent’s going to have to be split up yet again.

My weight is continuing to do weird things and I don’t know if it’s water, something else, or the scale acting funny. All I do know is that I’m going up and down for no apparent reason in ways I don’t normally fluctuate. It’s new for me to gain weight after not eating for a few hours and peeing a few times in between. And it’s new for me to then up and eat something and suddenly drop a pound in minutes. Well, one thing I do know for sure is that I’ve totally given up on losing any more weight. I will just try to hold the mid-120s.

We’re both continuing to experience these weird occurrences. His feet still swell and drain, swell and drain. And my lip is chapped – only the bottom one – and it never seems to get better.

Just when I was thinking how good the bombs were doing, a cellar spider came waltzing into the bedroom yesterday. And this was after the sun had come up, too.

In other news, I’ve been reviewing both Italian and Spanish and have finished Rainbow Dreams. I’ll probably start another story soon enough and also begin Portuguese 101. I hope Portuguese plurals are like Spanish and not Italian! I swear whoever decided Italian plurals should be as they are had to have been drunk!

Thursday, July 30, 2009

A horrible thought crossed my mind yesterday. As the dread began to seep through me, I thought – no! Tell me it isn’t so. Please tell me that not even God, who hasn’t answered one single prayer of mine, could hate us that much!

That’s when I ran to Tom and said, “I see where we’re going here. I see where God – or whatever’s had it in for me in the past – is leading us. The stage has been totally set for it when I sit and look at the big picture. Yes, I know where we’re headed.”

Tom was confused at first and that’s when I pointed out to him that while there haven’t been any jobs here in town, there have been some in Sacramento. Get it? As in setting us up to have to move back to the city yet AGAIN. Tom assures me that this can’t happen, but when you take in the fact that something up there has loved to see me stuck where I don’t want to be since I was 15 years old, it totally seems like something it would do. But Tom says that if there are still no jobs here when the job market loosens up in the fall, he can always commute. But I don’t see how we could afford a long commute, even though he says we could.

All I know is that I’m tired of starting over. I’m tired of having the carpet yanked from under our feet every time we start to get ahead. I’m tired of scraping pennies. And the thought of our next stop being just one more of many wild and or dumpy rentals to come, instead of our own home that we live in for the rest of our lives, really shrouds me in an even thicker veil of hopelessness and helplessness. I feel like a dead leaf lying on the ground, afraid of being swept where I don’t want to be.

AGAIN.

I wasn’t kidding when I said my prayers have gone unanswered. I’ve been praying for the better part of a year now for Tom to get a job, but no. God would rather we be broke and struggling. I’ve prayed for help with my teeth and for us to lose more weight. Nothing. So when I started to pray for Him not to “send us back to the city” yet again, I stopped myself and said, why bother? Nothing else I ask for gets granted, so why waste my time? I figure that if He doesn’t care about those who are worse off than us, why would He care about us? We certainly can’t be all that important now, can we?

Tom keeps insisting we’ll be okay, but I fear we’ll fall further and further behind. The flooring hasn’t sold yet and if it ever does it will no doubt have to be for next to nothing. He thinks Jesse will take it for $100, but I don’t think he wants it. Period. Then we’ve got things coming up like car insurance, renewing our mailbox, trying to get his Mac back, etc. Hell, we can’t even get a $40 mattress topper for our sagging mattress right now, and that’s humiliating. It really is. To have to be degraded to such hardships at our age is really discouraging in every way imaginable. If we were lazy drunks or druggies who didn’t give a damn, then we’d deserve to be right where we are today in someone else’s trashy trailer, having to skimp on food, split the rent payment, and do without so many things we need. I appreciate the coins and spare change my folks sent us, but I still don’t think they have any concept of what it’s like to live as poorly as we do. Even their poorest days on earth don’t come close to our average days. I don’t resent those who are better off than we are. If you are, then I’m happy for you. I just don’t get why we have to be one of the ones to suffer. It just seems so unfair and all it does is serve to convince me all the more that nothing up there likes us.

Other than fearing my worst fears may come true, I can understand more written languages than I realized! I looked up romance languages on Wiki and there are other romance languages, some of which I’ve never heard of like Romanian, Catalan, Corsican, Galician, Leonese, Occitan, Aromanian, Sardinian and Venetian. And when I went to read the pages I set in these languages, clearly it was a language I did not know, yet I could understand the gist of what I was reading. They’re pretty much just another variation of Spanish, Italian, etc.! In some cases, I guess they’d be considered different dialects.

Got a coupon for a free pint of Starbucks ice cream. This was a nice treat, but it gave me the runs.

We also had another fly invasion. I guess whenever a new mouse or family of mice gets under the trailer, eats the poison and dies, we get hit with a new batch of flies. I’d still rather be “trailer trash” than have to get a little 400-square-foot studio in the city, even if it were modern. It would probably still be more expensive than what we pay here, too. And harder to get into since it would probably be managed by a company versus an individual, and they don’t like people with bad or no credit.

I wish we had an RV as a backup! I wouldn’t sleep any better in it than I would an apartment, but at least it’d be mobile and could be put wherever we wanted it, should worse come to worse as it so often does in our lives.

Again I got those strange pains after working out that felt exactly like intense period cramps. They lasted about 10 minutes, and again there was no bleeding.

Where I made Top 1000 Italian Student a while back on the language site, now I’m Top 500 Italian Student. Yeah, I guess you could say I’m pretty dedicated since I go there just about every day.

Tom said he heard the puppy whining when he was outside the other day, but that it was nothing that could be heard in here. Wow, that’s hard to believe. Then again, when the people up top of the hill with the goats are outside talking, I can’t hear them inside either. I don’t expect the dogs (all 3 of them) to be a problem till around November.