#i am in such a bad mood today. thankfully it led to me discovering what a great word ornerier is

[coquelicoq]

titling a crossword the "world's most ornery crossword" is just asking for me to go ugh 🙄 could be ornerier

[talesofpanem]

Feed the Beast

Author: @hutchhitched

Rating: T for too much angst

Summary: Peeta needs help, and he hates asking for it.

Author’s note: Seriously? Did I just give myself another WIP? Don’t @ me, people. I didn’t mean to.

___________

“This isn’t working.”

Effie Trinket walked into the kitchen, and Peeta, master baker and proprietor of Mellark’s Bakery, released a frustrated little huff. She wrinkled her nose in disapproval, and he worked hard to keep his middle fingers in place instead of flipping them both at her. He knew exactly what she’d say.

Manners, Peeta!

“Well, well, well,” she chirped in her clipped, efficient way. “Things seem to be going poorly for you this fine morning, don’t they, darling?”

“Don’t start,” he snapped and shoved the ball of dough he’d been kneading aside. It wasn’t working. Something just wasn’t right, and he couldn’t figure out what the problem was.

“When are you going to admit you need help, Peeta?” she asked a little more warmly. If he didn’t know better, he’d suspect a small note of sympathy. He hated that with a passion, misplaced sympathy for things that would never be right again.

With a sneer, he responded, “I don’t need help. I’ll figure it out.”

She clucked her tongue and stared at him coolly. “Will you, though? You’re a stubborn man, Peeta Mellark, and, at some point, you’re going to have to admit that you don’t have it all together.”

Beyond frustrated, he wiped his hands on his apron and flinched when the phone rang. He hardly needed anything else to go wrong this morning—not today, not when he only had a few days left, not when nothing was going right.

“Mellark’s. Ms. Trinket speaking. How can I help you?”

She held the phone out to him, and he took it, unsure who was on the other end.

“Mr. Mellark?”

“This is he.”

“This is Mr. Heavensbee, the principal from Panem ISD. I’m sorry to bother you at work, but your daughter…”

“What’s wrong?” he sputtered. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine, sir. I’m sorry. I should have led with that. Only, she’s feeling a little under the weather. Would you be able to come get her?”

“I…” Peeta started to protest but realized he had no other option. His daughter was sick, and he couldn’t leave her at school where she could infect other children. Besides, if she was sick, he wanted to get her well. It didn’t really matter if he was under a deadline, if his entire life’s work was at stake. He needed to be a dad today, except he really couldn’t. “Yeah, I’ll be there to get her in a few minutes.”

“Thank you, sir. We’ll see you soon.”

Peeta hung up and closed his eyes. He needed a moment to ground himself before he could face the world. How did everything get so messed up in such a short time? Two years ago things had been working exactly as they were supposed to, and now… Now was a certifiable disaster waiting to happen. Like, say, next week.

“Primmy?” Effie asked.

“Yeah,” he sighed and ran his hands through his hair, making it stand on end in short ashy blonde tufts. “She was fussy this morning. I should have known better than to send her to school.”

“But you needed to work,” she offered softly.

“I needed to work. I still do. Need to work. I’m almost out of time.” He fought a rush of anxiety and swallowed hard. He couldn’t afford to lose it. Not now.

“Peeta, let me get you some help.”

He wanted to protest. Everything in him fought to say no, but he was at the breaking point. He couldn’t handle it all, and he wasn’t doing anything very well at this point. It wasn’t working, and he needed that to change quickly. He had to be able to feed the beast.

“Yeah, okay,” he agreed miserably. His shoulders slumped, and tears pricked his eyes for a few seconds before he blinked them away. “I’ve got to go pick up Primmy. Can you watch things here?”

“Go,” she ordered imperiously. “I’ll keep it all going. Who better?”

“Who better, indeed?”

Effie was a godsend—brilliant, efficient, talented, and gifted with the ability to organize anything. If anyone asked him what the definition of administration was, he’d say it was Effie Trinket. Thank all the deities she was on his side.

Thankfully, the drive to the school wasn’t too long, so he didn’t have time to fall into much of a funk. He had a bad habit of sinking into his thoughts and letting them ruin his mood much too often. He was an extrovert by birth—not one who thrived on noise and boisterous behavior, but one who genuinely enjoyed being around other people, getting to know them and discovering interesting stories and experiences each had. Unfortunately, life hadn’t granted him those opportunities lately, and circumstances were such that he rarely had time to socialize anymore. Even his role at work called for isolation in the kitchen rather than interacting with the customers out front. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was lonely, desperately lonely, for good company.

“Hi, Daddy,” his daughter grumbled miserably when he got to the school. Her blue eyes, so like his, gazed at him from a flushed face, and his heart twisted a little.

“Hi, munchkin. Don’t feel so good, huh?”

She shook her head and pouted, her bottom lip trembling. “My throat hurts. And I feel all hot and icky.”

“That sounds terrible.”

“It is. Make it better, Daddy.”

He grinned at her, awestruck again by her spunky personality. In his eyes, she was so much like her mother, but almost everyone said she reminded them of him. He wasn’t sure he’d ever had as much gumption as his six-year-old did.

“Let’s get you home, okay?”

She nodded and nuzzled into his shoulder when he lifted her. She was still so tiny for a first grader, and he wondered if she’d hit a growth spurt soon or remain as small and fragile as her mother had been. He swallowed hard at the thought of his late wife and pushed the memories aside. He didn’t have time to grieve. Besides, he’d already done that. He needed to get home and get back to work.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, pumpkin?”

“Can I have ice cream?”

He chuckled softly and gazed at his daughter. She knew exactly how to work him, and he didn’t even bother to try to say no.

“Of course, sweetheart, and then I’ll drop you off with Uncle Haymitch.”

“You’re not coming home with me?” she asked, her voice shaky.

He brushed the hair off her forehead and cupped her cheek. “No, honey. I’m sorry. I wish I could, but I’ve got to—”

“Feed the beast.”

“You’re a smart little girl, you know that?”

She nodded and grinned at him. “I do.”

Shaking his head, he turned back to the front. He steered out of the parking lot and toward her favorite ice cream place. Two scoops later (fudge ripple for her, caramel pecan for him) and he pulled into the driveway at Haymitch Abernathy’s house. Curmudgeonly and foul-mouthed, the older man was one of his oldest (and longest-lasting) friends. He hated most people, but he loved Primmy like a pig likes mud—at least he’d said that once.

“Uncle Haymitch!”

“Primmy Mellark! My favorite girl.”

“You always say that,” she giggled.

Peeta caught his friend’s eye and pled silently. Clearly, Haymitch hadn’t checked his phone and seen the text asking for a favor. “Slight fever. Sore throat. It’s just a few hours, I promise.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got her.”

“Can you make sure she eats something besides ice cream? Something healthy, at least somewhat nutritious.”

“I’ll take care of it. A nice nourishing meal coming right up.”

“Thank you. Really.”

“Go feed the beast.”

Peeta swallowed and called to his daughter, “’Bye, Primmy! Love you!”

He felt like he weighed 1000 pounds by the time he returned to his kitchen. Effie had worked miracles in his short absence. Damp towels covered balls of rising dough, cookies cooled on the countertops, and the industrial mixer whirred with another batch of batter. His eyes shone with gratitude, and he briefly considered worshipping at her high-hell clad feet.

“You’re a lifesaver. You know that?”

“I am,” she affirmed and crossed to him. She untied her apron and patted him on the arm. “Your help will be here in thirty minutes. You have time to eat something. There’s a fresh pot of tea ready for you.”

“My help?” he yelped. “Effie, I don’t—”

“You do. We already discussed this. You agreed an hour ago. You do need help. Now, chin up. Smile on. Go eat. No arguments.”

Grumbling, he walked to his office and found a carefully crafted sandwich waiting for him next to a steaming mug of tea. He flopped into his chair and pushed several pages out of the way. Proof after proof. Stacks of them. All of them staring at him, judging him for his inadequacies.

He was so tired. So very over trying to take care of everything by himself and failing. He wasn’t supposed to have to do this alone. He was supposed to have help. She wasn’t supposed to be gone. She was supposed to be his partner. They were supposed to do this together. So many things were supposed to be and weren’t.

Tears pricked his eyes as he stared at the desk. The unfinished cookbook, the working title “Feed the Beast,” mocked him. The sandwich, which should have been scrumptious, tasted like sand, the tea cooled into an unappetizing brown blob as the worries of the world settled on his shoulders and then pressed down so hard it hurt. His chest ached with repressed sobs.

Peeta whipped his head up at the sound of a tentative knock at the door. He scrubbed his face quickly with the palms of his hands and hastily swiped moisture from the corners of his eyes. When he was at least partially composed, he swiveled to face the door and promptly felt like he’d been punched in the gut.

“Excuse me. Mr. Mellark?”

A woman stood in the doorway, haloed by light. He wasn’t sure if he couldn’t actually see her or if his eyes were playing tricks on him, but all he could make out was a silhouette of a petite body, lithe and shapely that made something inside him sit up and take notice.

“Th-that’s me. He. I. I’m yes.”

She moved toward him with an extended hand, and he blinked. Gray eyes, olive skin, dark hair in a thick braid, and a confused expression on her face. He clearly could not have been more of an idiot.

“Okay? I’m Katniss Everdeen. Effie Trinket called me and said you could use some help.”

“I could?” he blurted and blanched at her stricken expression. “I mean, I could! I really could.”

“Yeah?” she asked. When he nodded, she shook his hand. “Great. Then I’m your new chef. When can I start?”

Trying not to sound overly eager and at all insane, he answered, “Right now.”

[rowan-yourboat]

Unspoken Truths

Who: Chrow What: Charlie shows up at the ranch to surprise Row, gets more than she bargained for. When: Man, idek, but it was a Saturday! Where: Animal Sanctuary.

@erickson-charlie

Rowan groaned as she unloaded the last hay bale from the trailer. she had been at it for an hour and the sun was barely peeking over the horizon. Still, she didn't mind sacrificing sleep and her back's well being for a good cause, and getting a bunch of animals a home was more than worth it all in her books. There was also the fact that keeping busy helped with the tangle of thoughts and emotions haunting her every waking moment; a win-win all around. "Hey, Rowan, fancy helping out with the kennels?" Came the cherry voice of one of the managers, a sweet guy with a sadistic streak. "Not really, but God knows you won't do it if I don't."

Charlizard didn't entirely know what had possessed her. No, that was a lie. Of course she did. When she'd seen the flyer advertising the adoption event, her mind had immediately gone to two places: the first was that she'd love to help. The second was that it meant a way to spend some time with Rowan in an environment that had once made them both happy. Thus she'd dressed that morning in tight jeans and a flannel shirt, covering her pink hair with an ironically worn cowboy hat, and taken an uber to the shelter. "You were right," she grinned at Row's manager. "She really does whine a lot."

Rowan rolled her eyes and made her way towards one of the buildings, all the while looking at the scuffed tips of her boots. As soon as another voice piped up, though, her head snapped up so hard that she could've sworn she heard a crack. Even while wearing a cowboy hat, there was no way of mistaking the bubblegum pink of her friend's hair. "Charlie... What are you doing here?"

Charlizard was sure she heard a crack as well, because human heads weren't meant to turn as quickly as Row's had. "I'm here to help with the adoption!" Charlie explained too slowly, as if speaking to a child, before laughing brightly. Even being back at the shelter did wonders for her mood. "As long as you don't mind me pitching in, of course." That part, she meant - if Row really had a problem with her being there, she wanted her to say so.

Rowan stared for a long moment, her brain processing the answer. The last person she had expected to see that day was standing just feet away, smiling brightly like the midday sun. Her own smile was slow to grow, but just as bright as Charlie's. All the pain aside, the shelter held some of the best memories she had crafted with the then blonde, and maybe for just the day, she could pretend she wasn't irrevocably in love. "Of course I don't mind, especially since you got here just in time to help me wash the kennels."

Charlizard shifted a little from foot to foot as she waited, making sure that her friend - or whatever the right word was now - was really okay with her presence. Seeing her smile, though, was all the answer necessary and she didn't even mind that the task before them was one of the smelliest that they'd done the first time. The chance to work at Row's side and recreate one of their best days together was worth any amount of exertion. "Lead on, partner. We'll have 'em sparkling in no time, or my name's not Charlie Fabray."

Rowan whistled a nameless tune as she hosed down the last of the kennels, washing away unspeakable things. It had taken them a good couple of hours to get it done, but Charlie was surprisingly handy with a power washer and a push broom. Speaking of the devil, the girl was a few feet away, putting the broom in it's hook. It gave Rowan an idea. With a flick of her wrist, the stream of warm water was redirected towards Charlie, hitting her legs. Just as quickly as it happened, Rowan went back to washing the floor. "Oops, sorry, my hand slipped."

Charlizard felt great. Sure, the kennels was a gross job and all, but it meant she was working alongside and Row and for a while she could pretend that everything was alright. They came clean, slowly, and her muscles were aching in a pleasant way as she reached up to hang up the broom. The warm water on her legs caught her by surprise, but there was no mistaking the smirk in Row's eyes. "Oh, I completely understand," she nodded. "I mean, these things just happen. One minute you're running the power washer and then bam!" she sprayed Row in the chest. "Your hand slips and all hell breaks loose. Sorry about that."

Rowan 's jaw hung open as she looked down at her now soaked top. Thankfully, she hadn't been wearing her jacket or she'd be screwed; the chill of fall in Colorado spared no one. With eyes narrowed playfully, she faux glared at Charlie. "Yeah, things just haooen exactly like that. You ought to be more careful, miss Fabray." The corner of her lips slowly curling into a devious smirk, she slowly advanced on her friend, hose still in hand. "We wouldn't want all this water to make my hand slip again. It is terribly cold out there."

Charlizard couldn't help but giggle at the look on Row's face, even if it did mean trouble for her. "Now, now," she backed up, still holding the offending hose in one hand. "We definitely don't want that. In fact, maybe you should go ahead and put that hose down before some kind of accident happens. We wouldn't want to do anything we might regret later, right?" She was rapidly running out of room to back away, the kennels close at her heels. "Don't do it, I surrender!" she offered, putting both hands up - although not letting go of the hose, just in case.

Rowan chuckled, loving every second of the interaction that took her back to better times, easier times. "The thing is, I've never regretted anything I've done with you, so your point is moot." The look she gave Charlie was positively predatory as she further closed the distance between them, trapping the girl in place by holding onto the kennel cage behind her. She meant closer, almost whispering. "It's more fun when you put up more of a fight." And as soon as she had approached, Rowan turned around and walked away again, putting the hose in its respective hook on the wall. "Wanna go feed the goats before lunch?"

Charlizard had to swallow, hard, as Row pinned her against the kennel. Yes, the interaction was fun and lighthearted, but jesus did she want to lean forward and kiss her just then. Even dressed for dirty jobs and soaking wet, Row was a beautiful woman and they'd spent no shortage of time exploring each other. Even her line about not regretting anything they'd done cut her to the quick, although it hadn't been Row's intent. "I'll keep that in mind," she breathed a sigh of relief as some distance opened up between them. She almost took one last cheap shot by spraying her in the back once more, but that didn't seem fair. "I'd love to," Charlie agreed, hanging up the power washer hose and making sure it was turned off. "You wield a mean hose."

Rowan chuckled, holding the door open for Charlie to go through. "Not sure what that says about me, but I do take pride in whatever skills you think I have." Leading the way towards the break room, she almost, almost reached for Charlie's hand out of habit. Her nails dug crescent shapes into her palms as she fisted her hand tightly. "How did you even end up here today, anyways?"

Charlizard stepped through the door, laughing under her breath at her friend's reply. She'd meant the innuendo, of course, but it was nice to have her play along a little. She wanted to take it a little further, but clamped down on that instinct - it wasn't going to lead anywhere good for either of them. "I saw a flyer for the adoption day," Charlie explained. "I knew you'd be here, so I grabbed an Uber and came down so I could help out." The fact that it was one of the places where their happiest memories were born wasn't to be mentioned.

Rowan smiled to herself. She had invited Charlie to the sanctuary on a whim, and now the girl was invested in the place in a way. She didn't dare think it was exclusively to spend time with her. "Well, I'm glad you came. Really glad." If the smile she gave Charlie was a little sad, well, she simply couldn't help it.

Charlizard "Me too," Charlie replied. And perhaps her answering smile was a bit sad as well, but she knew that neither of them were going to mention it. That way led to nothing but badness, and neither of them wanted that. "I mean how often am I going to get to spray you with a hose, right?"

Rowan getting their food and managing to exit the cafeteria had been nothing short of a challenge. Everyone had fallen in love with Charlie the first time Rowan had taken her to the ranch, and everyone wanted to say hello upon seeing her again. It warmed Rowan's heart, but she was starving by the time they made it outside. "So, how about we take a horse and have lunch by the stream?"

Charlizard had been a little overwhelmed by the people coming up to greet her. The idea of being well liked was something the pink haired girl had no experience with, so when every step brought someone new who wanted to say hi she was left a bit frazzled by the time they made it out. The idea of being somewhere away from people, especially after riding a horse again, was enough to bring a grin to her face. "That sounds amazing."

Rowan chose the same horse from their first ride together, of course. There was few words offered on the ride to the stream on her part, her attention mostly taken up by the feeling of Charlie in her arms, pressed so close together. It was as much of a blessing as it was pure torture; the definition of bittersweet. Love could change a person in many ways, and sometimes it simply brought a deeper truth to see the light of day. For Rowan, it was a newly discovered masochist streak as she pressed closer, resting her chin on Charlie's shoulder.

Charlizard was almost certain the horse was the one they'd ridden once before - she didn't recognize the animal on sight, but there was a familiar energy about it that told her the truth. And despite everything that Charlie had tried to push down and push away, there was a bliss in being held tightly by Row. Life was so powerfully, deeply unfair. Why had she found the love of her life and then discovered that there was another? Was it her own private hell that made her love two women and be unable to tell either of them about the other? When Row's head rested on her shoulder she reached up with the opposite hand to scratch gently at her scalp. Maybe, like Orpheus, everything would be okay if she just didn't look back.

Rowan would never admit it out loud, but she made sure the pace of the horse was slower, trying to make the trip last just a little longer. She couldn't freely have moments like those with Charlie anymore, but even if her conscience felt heavy with guilt and her heart further torn open by yearning, she would steal little moments like those. It was freeing, even when it made her want to cry as she spoke softly against Charlie's ear. "I missed this."

Charlizard would never have admitted it if she noticed their slow pace. The longer the ride went, the longer she could pretend that everything was okay. That she could have these moments with Row and not break anyone's heart - even her own. Her breath caught in her throat at Row's soft confession, and Charlie felt a tear sneaking down her cheek as she imagined a world where she could have all she wanted. "I missed you," the emphasis being firmly on the last word. "I get it now. Why you're avoiding me. I just...I miss you."

Rowan clenched her teeth tightly at Charlie's words. Maybe the girl had gotten it right, or maybe she had it all wrong, but in any case, Rowan wouldn't - couldn't - knowledge the implication. Doing so would only bring more hurt for everyone involved, but perhaps she could give them both some sort of closure. "You're not gonna lose me, even when I'm not there." The rest of the ride she didn't say a word, simply basked in the feeling until she regretfully had to let go in order to dismount the horse. "Pretty sure the food is half cold now, but oh well."

Charlizard wished she could believe that. She'd already seen Row with Taylor and thrown up because of it, and she had to believe that if it was hard enough for her then one day Row would do the best thing for her heart and soul and walk away for good. And a part of Charlie's heart would go with her on the journey. "Good," she replied, though, not willing to challenge the truth. "Because I don't ever want to." The whole way, her fingers never stopped working over Rowan's scalp and the distance between them never grew any bigger. "That's alright. It was nice to come out here with you. And I'm fine with lukewarm food." Charlie slid down from the horse, her hat tipping forward over her eyes.

Rowan smiled fondly at the sight before her, it was just like their first day together at the shelter. Charlie was simply not a country girl. Gently, she tipped the girl's hat back into place. "Who would've thought Charlie Fabray was such a cute dork. Certainly not me after you all but begged me to slap you." She winked, couldn't really help it. Deep down, past the hurt and the anger with herself, Row still found herself loving Charlie as a friend. "I didn't pay attention and so I have no idea what we're having for lunch." She to the fallen log by the stream with a ridiculous flourish, "shall we find out what's in the menu?"

Charlizard didn't flinch as Rowan fixed her hat, a blush rising in her cheeks as Row described her as dork. Truth was, under her bluster that was the way she usually felt - like a dork hanging out with the cool kids. The reminder of how it had all started between them was one that was both happy and sad at once, and she stared into her friend's eyes. "And you did. And it was a real good slap." She giggled at the fact that they were having a mystery meal, but it didn't bother her. "Let the magical mystery tour begin!"

Rowan put her empty plate back inside the plastic bag and held it open for Charlie to do the same. "Y'know, I've definitely had worse things than lukewarm fajitas. Which, in hindsight, says an awful lot about me, but we'll ignore that part." Tying the bag and putting it on the ground, she then leaned back, basking in the warmth of the sun chasing away the cruel chill announcing the start of winter. Somehow, she felt lighter right then. Her heart was still far from healed, but being so far away from everything and everyone gave her some much needed respite. She almost felt like herself. "Hey, Char, can I ask you a question?"

Charlizard stowed her empty, not wanting to leave any trace of their presence in the beauty that surrounded them. "I mean I can't judge you. Lukewarm fajitas are actually pretty decent compared to some of the things I've eaten. I once ate spam, and I'm pretty sure that stuff should be banned by the Geneva Convention because it's the most disgusting thing in the world." Her rant about food was cut off at the knees by Row's question, and she peered over with a nod. "It worries me that you're asking, because normally you'd just go ahead and ask, but...sure. Ask me anything." Except for the truth, she silently amended.

Rowan gave a half-chuckle, half-scoff at the observation. It was true, she hardly had any reservations around Charlie when it was just the two of them, but this was a delicate matter. She needed to find the right words that would give her answers without disrupting the delicate balance that kept them sane and the waters as calm as could be under the circumstances. In the end, Rowan settled for the only thing that mattered, and her voice remained surprisingly steady, though she couldn't bring herself to look at Charlie as she spoke. "Are you happy? I don't want details or long winded explanations, I just need to know, please."

Charlizard hadn't been sure what to expect from Row's question, because she'd been honest when she observed that her friend would never normally have asked permission for a question. When it came, she wasn't quite sure how to answer. Was she happy? Gloriously. Being with Morgan and finally finding love had left her in a mental place that she'd never been lucky enough to experience before now. But as she studied her chipped nails and searched for the right response, she couldn't help but notice the Rowan shaped hole that would have made her happiness complete. "Almost completely," she finally replied in a hesitant voice. "Almost."

Rowan accepted the answer for what it was, even as she refused to dwell on the fact that it hadn't been a straight 'yes'. Something had changed on the ride to what she considered their spot, but some skeletons were best left in the closet, lest they wanted to put more hearts on the line. Rowan knew Charlie understood, she knew, and that made her realize something: she had to try harder for Charlie. For Morgan. Gently, she patted the girl's leg and gave her a small smile. "You'll get there, Charlizard. You both deserve it."

Charlizard pressed her hand over Row's where it sat on her leg, trying to summon up a response that wasn't just going to make her cry. Maybe they would get there. Maybe there would come a day when she could fill the hole in her heart with something that wasn't Rowan and move on. But there would always be an ache there, and it seemed like the sort of thing that would get worse over time rather than better. "I hope so," she finally whispered, voice choked by the lump in her throat. But it was a lie. To hope so would be to hope that she forgot her feelings for the girl who'd once slapped her in the face, and that was a horrible thing to wish.

Rowan felt the ache in Charlie's voice resonate within her very soul. It wasn't too different from the feeling that made her tear up and her heart break as she sat laughing after finding out about her best friends being together. It was all too real and raw. It the kind of pain that you'd find in cheesy novels and rom-coms, the kind you did t believe in, until it struck. Looking at the horizon, at the oranges and pinks that announced the incoming sunset, she threw an arm around Charlie's shoulders and craddled her gently against her side, head resting in that mop of bright pink she was so fond of. "I know so."

Charlizard let her head rest there, Row's arm around her as the sun began to set. And how appropriate that felt, in that time and place. Her friend was too good to her. Too willing to put aside her own feelings and help Charlie deal with hers, even if that dealing came in the silence of a hug and the company of a friend. More than a friend, but a friend nonetheless. "It's less than none of my business. And I really shouldn't say anything at all, and you can push me in the water if you want, but...Taylor? You can do so much better, Row."

Rowan pushed down the expected reflex to take a defensive stand. She never took kindly to people trying to pry or judge whatever she decided to do with her life, but Charlie meant well. Taylor had been... Unexpected, but that was exactly what she needed just then. A distraction, someone to keep her busy and, dare she even think it, warm. She was human, after all. "She's not that bad once you make clear you won't take bullshit. She's sweet, actually, and she's trying." Rowan explained gently, thinking of her blonde mess of a lover and now friend, she really was grateful for Taylor's understanding and willingness to be there as soon as Rowan called. "She's still an idiot, but gets the job done."

Charlizard nodded against Row's shoulder. The first few things she said made Charlie feel bad for even bringing it up - it truly wasn't her place, and she should stay out of it unless she could offer some sort of alternative - which she really couldn't, not without dropping a bomb in three lives. The last sentence, though, made her stiffen up briefly before she let out a slow breath. "Then I can't fault either of you," she murmured. "I'm glad that she's there, and that she..." her voice choked off again, her mind trying not to think of the time she'd spent in Row's arms. "That she gets the job done."

Rowan grimaced, the words felt even more wrong when said by Charlie. "I definitely could've worded that better, sorry." There was a tiny part of her that wasn't sorry at all, coming from the corner where the deepest pain had taken residence. It took pleasure from the bitterness in Charlie's tone, wrong as it was. Rowan ignored that ugly side. "We should definitely head back, they'll be closing up soon." And yet, she didn't move, all too content to stay with Charlie in her arms, in case it was the last time.

Charlizard shook her head. "It's alright, you've got the right to talk like that. I mean she is your friend, after all." Calling her a girlfriend was a step too far for Charlie to take, and she didn't. "Yeah, we probably should." But she didn't move either, blinking to keep the tears from her eyes as she relaxed in Row's arms. It felt like something out of an old country song, something like her parents used to listen to on long drives. There was no strength in her to get up, and no urge to follow through on the suggestion.

Rowan drove them back to Erickson in silence. After their talk, something had shifted and now sat heavily in between them. Knowledge was a double-sided blade, and even those things not spoken out loud could leave behind a deep wound. Still, Rowan held Charlie's hand gently in hers, thumb rubbing soothing circles over right knuckles. 'Well be fine, I just need time.' was the silent reassurance, the promise for the storm to pass. Somehow, they had found their way into each other's lives, an unlikely friendship that could've been so much more, and Rowan knew that, somehow, they would find their way through the fog again. After all, love was never easy.

Charlizard stared out the window, because it was easier than looking at Rowan. The talk was the closest they'd come to actually acknowledging the truth that lay between them threatening to explode, and while it still sat there maybe the fuse had been lengthened for a while. Everything hurt - mind, body and soul. But Charlie wouldn't have passed up the chance to work at Row's side or ride a horse with her one more time, not for any price or any reason. Whether Row was slapping her or holding her hand, she still craved the contact. With her free hand she turned on the radio, settling on a country station and squeezing Rowan's hand a little tighter.

[kyoukasuigetsu]

Finally answering this ask, sent by @shadowx21

Be warned: This unlocks my tragic backstory. And it’s extremely long.

Let me begin by explaining why this ask in particular is so important to me, and why it’s driven me to create a separate post to answer it: Every OC I’ve created since I was roughly thirteen years old has become a toxin to me. Over one hundred original characters, complete with backstories, families, and so on, have become creations I pray that I never have to face again.

When I was around nine or ten, I discovered the online roleplaying community on YouTube. Through their chatrooms, called ‘Streams’, I discovered my passion for writing and my talent for creating original characters and worlds around them. This led me to creating friendships with various people, and ultimately had a hand into shaping me into the person I am today.

Among these various people, @shadowx21 was one of them. He, alongside of a single other person, is the only friend I managed to keep throughout the years since I was about twelve/thirteen.

During this age, I met another friend, who I do not care to name or speak of in general. However, it’s important that I do so in order to make this entire story worthwhile and logical.

This friend, who we’ll call Her, became my very bestfriend at a very quick rate. She was essentially the younger sister I never had, and became a person who I held extremely close to my heart. 

Her had a rough home life, which motivated me to try and become something I’m not: a hero. I wanted nothing more than to be the one who made every bad situation better, even at the sacrifice of my own well-being. From age twelve/thirteen, to age nineteen, Her and I would spend every minute or every day speaking to one another. From the moment we woke, to the moment one of us accidentally fell asleep, we would constantly be talking and roleplaying and being a presence in one another’s life. Throughout these years, I spent more time than I care to admit tending to anything and everything that caused Her any form of distress. Late nights, early mornings, ignoring my own lack of sleep and at times, neglecting my job. 

Her and I eventually met in person, at around age 16-17, which ultimately led to a second visit a year later. During this second visit, I had one goal: show Her that even if life at home is rough, there is someone out there who will care for you. This led to me spending large sums of money in order to provide Her with anything she needed or wanted, and spending large sums of my time in attempts to ensure she was always occupied and enjoying herself. My family made immense sacrifices to their own personal comforts in order to help me achieve this, and for that, I am eternally in their debt.

Among the things purchased, and time spent, I had taken the time to fill in a blank book. This book contained over 400 pages, each of which I filled with hand-written notes of encouragement, for those rare times when I was not able to be reached through text message. Since she lived a fair distance away, I had sent this item in hopes of helping her calm herself without my immediate aid.

SIDENOTE: Before you make judgment, please understand this: every action I took and every dime I spent was by my own decision. I am not blaming Her. I am not trying to make you hate Her. I am not trying to muster any ill will towards Her. I am aware of my decisions, and I am enduring the consequences. This is simply my own personal story, from my own personal view. I am not here to try and make you dislike anyone. I am responsible for the outcome of this story. I accept this.

Returning to my original thoughts, after our two visits (both of which Her came to my home, where she stayed), I had decided it was time for me to go to Her. She had previously lived in the neighboring state, but by the time I had made this decision, she lived a few thousand miles away. This trip would become my first flight as an adult, and my very first time away from all of my family.

I was quite excited about this visit, as I had various expectations for it. I was excited to see my bestfriend again, and to explore a state in which I had never been. I flew to where Her lived, and stayed with Her and Her father, who I had only met once before. This was, quite frankly, a huge gamble.

The day I arrived, there was a natural slight shyness between us both; I was not surprised, as we had not seen one another in a year, and we were both overwhelmed by our own private lives. While I did not at first think much of this silent shyness, it would soon become the beginning of the end for Her and I.

The second day remained one filled by silence, as did the third and fourth and fifth, accompanied by various occasions when I was, for lack of a better word, abandoned by myself. (This is how it felt, mind you; I am not stating that this was Her intention. It was simply how I felt, and still feel, looking back at the occasions.)

On the fifth day, after an outing with Her, I decided to confront Her. I asked if I had done something wrong, if I had upset her. When I was answered with no, I confessed to feeling unwanted; I confessed to feeling as if Her did not want me to be there any longer, or at all to begin with. Due to my own foolishness, I had expected Her to tell me I was wrong, and that I was wanted. Unfortunately, that did not happen; instead, I was told that if I felt unwanted, that I should simply leave and fly back to my own home. This was the moment that my heart stopped.

It’s a strange idea, thinking that your most painful heartbreak would come from no lover, but from your best and closest friend. You grow up with this idea that your bestfriend is the one who mends your heart, yet in my case, it was my bestfriend that doused it in gasoline and lit the match.

Upon being told I should ‘just leave’, I was too stunned to put up much protest. We continued on walking in silence, eventually stopping for lunch, where I was unable to hold my emotions in. Leaving the table where we had sat, I went outside, where I called my mother and told her all that had been told to me. In tears, I made the decision that I would leave immediately. 

I went back insided and told Her I was done, and then left by myself. I walked back to the nearby coffee shop, where I then began to find myself a way back home. At the cost of roughly every dime I had, I arranged for a flight to take me home that night, and arranged for a shuttle to come and pick me up so that I would not need to stay in Her home again. Once I had made these arrangements, I returned back to where Her lived, and began to pack my things so that I could wait at a nearby hotel to be picked up by the shuttle service.

As I finished packing my items, I received a text from Her, which hinted at thoughts of suicide. I would not leave until I found Her and knew that Her was safe and unable to cause herself harm. This led to several attempts at calling Her, though they went unanswered. Unable to do anything else, I took to the streets and began a frantic search to find Her. I was in a constant state of calling for her, searching all of the places I could, and calling her repeatedly. I contacted Her father, who I told about her text messages, and we both began to search; he in his car, myself on foot.

Eventually, Her answered my calls, and I will not lie: I was not a pleasant woman to speak to. I was angry, I was worried, and hurt, and wanted nothing more than to find Her and have a not-so-calm discussion. Looking back, I regret how I let my own emotions get the better of me. I wish, in that moment, that I had been kinder, quieter, and more compassionate.

Her told me where she was and I went to Her. When I was finally face to face, I asked Her if she had expected me to leave without trying to help Her get through Her moment of weakness. Despite our history, despite the actions I had done in attempts to show Her that I cared for Her as my own sibling, Her claimed that she had expected just that; that I would leave, carelessly, despite knowing she was in a fragile state. This was, quite easily, the deepest cut among them all.

With my blood boiling, I had every intention to yell. But thankfully, now that I look back, I was unable to; Her father showed up seconds before I could. He came to Her aid, and I chose to walk away to try and calm down. During this time, I once again called my mother, explaining what had just taken place. She calmed me, and in a somewhat clearer state of mind, I chose to return to Her house and resume my packing. By the time Her and Her father returned to the house, I was cleaning up and preparing to leave. With my bags packed and flung over my shoulders, I thanked Her father for his hospitality and kindness. Her and I did not speak, aside from a forced “thank-you” from myself when she gave me a plastic bag. (She had, in silence, attempted to give me a drawing she had done of myself; however, in that moment, I was too overwhelmed to consider it. I do not regret this.)

I carried all of my luggage to the nearby hotel, where I then sat in wait for the shuttle. Once it arrived, I boarded and made my way to the airport. I had held some foolish hope in my heart that I would receive a phone call from Her, asking me to stay, but I never did. Instead, I treated myself to lunch, and a very delicious piece of cheesecake.

As I sat in the restaurant in the airport, overpaying for what I was eating, I had a sudden rush of relief. As terrible as it sounds, I was overjoyed to know I would never again lose sleep over Her. That I would no longer have to worry if something I said would upset Her, or dread mornings, because I would not know if Her was in a good mood or not. It is a terrible thing to say, and I ask for God’s forgiveness. But I will not deny the relief and happiness I had in every bite of that cheesecake.

Once I returned home, I remained on my ‘vacation’ by not returning to work. Wounded to my very core, I had only one desire: to drink. I am not proud to admit this. I do not wish for pity. But it is the simple truth. I knew drinking enough would cause my thoughts to blur, or better yet, disappear; so that’s what I did the first night I was home. (However, it is important to know this: I resisted this urge after that night. I know better than to abuse substances due to family history. What I did not know, however, is that this tragedy would bring me the closest to God I had ever been.)

As the days went on, eventually, Her contacted me. It was an apology, one of which I accepted. To spare you details, I will not go on about what words were exchanged; I will only tell you that I made the decision to be effortless in this recovery. I would not be the one to put forth attempts to mend the damage, as I felt I was not the one who had to. This was, in retrospect, childish and unfair of me. But I do not regret it.

Her and I attempted to recover, to become the friends we were. It worked, sometimes, though it was never more than a shallow attempt to pretend nothing happened to begin with. 

I will say that I believe Her genuinely wanted to repair our friendship, and for that I am grateful. But, because of my own personal heartache and because of what occured, I found myself unable to continue. Unfairly, I chose to disappear without warning. Blocked numbers and accounts, all without any form of notification to Her. It was the only way, in my own mind, to escape from what had scarred me.

Upon making the decision to entirely remove Her from my life, I came to the realization that every OC I had would have to be removed as well. This meant that all of these characters, these creations of mine, had to be destroyed. I could not face them without seeing Her, as each one was created during our friendship, and depended on Her own characters. This ultimately left me with nothing left of my writing, which was a wound that still remains in my mind.

With all that being said, I would like to remind you of this: I have not written this to make anyone feel pity, or hatred, or anything of that form. In the simplest of words, this is an explanation for why this question is so important to me. Because finally, I have gotten these words off of my chest. And now, thanks to the incredible people I have met (who will be named in the tags, and not tagged directly, as I do not want to force them to read this sob story), I can give an honest answer to the question: who is your favorite OC?

Well, I have four.

After immense healing through God, I have found my footing in my creations again. And for the first time, I have created characters who belong wholeheartled to myself. Allow me to introduce you:

Pictured above, from left to right, is Skya and Light. Though they existed very briefly during the time of Her, I have separated them enough and decided that if anything, they belong to Jess more than anyone, other than myself. Her adoration for Light revived my love for her, and helped me to heal. Jess is the only reason these two still exist, and I cannot thank her enough for being the healing hands that allowed me to keep these two characters.

Once again, from left to right, is Vergil and Rosalee. These are my newest creations, but they are as much my babies as Light and Skya.

These four are my favorites, as they symbolize a new chapter in my life. They’re my own creations, for my own self, who I share with new friends. Friends who have helped me pick up the pieces of my heart. Friends who have shown me that I can be slow in healing, that it’s ok for me to hurt, and that it’s ok for me to stumble sometimes. As long as I continue to stand, then I know that I will be all right.

TLDR; I love my new children and my friends were handpicked for me by God himself.

[mceproductions]

December 2018 Blurbs

12/1/18 The final Chapter on 2018's book began with me checking out the sequel to Wreck It Ralph. And it was Near perfect in every way possible. What wasn't was my drive back and the snowstorm that laid waste to the road, never had driven in snow that bad until today. Honestly was shaking for nealry 20 miles. Luckilly came back in time to see Bama win in epic fashion. I may not like them but they are #1. UCF won as well hopeful they can make the jump. 12/2/18 Connor ended up picking up a new kitten, he and Amber named Nelson. Now I know how Peele felt in Keanu. That cat was adorable and so sweet to be around. Especially that poofball tail. Packers stink as usual to the point where McCarthy got fired during his postgame press conference. Bama, Clemson, and Oklahoma will batlle on the 29th to see who gets the chance to play in Santa Clara. Notre Dame will join them, this should be expanded by all counts. 12/3/18 Andrew has another job, this one late at night. Hoping he'll stick this out. Heisman this year went down to the 3 QB's from Bama, Oklahoma and Ohio State. Wonder how the finalst math is done to drop the number from 5 to 3. Gifts need to be sent out to Eric and Company soon. New Tree skirt looks hopefully ok. 12/4/18 Stuff can take the cake really quickly when it comes to life. Connor apparently has broken things off with Amber now his gut is killing him. Karma at its finest people. Other than that, I don't mind having to get called out to do carts what irks me is when someone like Cole, drops off so I'm completley alone out there. His weaseled out method just really iritates me more. Bowl Mercahndise looking rather dull this year, may save money along those lines. 12/5/18 Well, Connor may have gut problems like me. The real kicker is how incompitent our hospital is here, and how they were throwing in words like liver failure and appendix issues. Grabbed mounted photo which allowed me to finish wrapping the gifts to be sent out to Eric and them. Hopeful that Eli Like gummi Bears. Main gift hunting will begin next week. Do love Holiday seaons, and all that they entail. 12/6/18 The cat may be be cute, but Connor breaking, entering and placing him on me in the middle of the night. Nope. He, can really take the cake when it comes to not knowing how to amicably end a relationship. Rebought Hobbit and that gave me, Legos for the first time in 15 Years. Will only get the Target lego hobbit editons and that will be it. Survey for class is adjusted and will hopefully be done by weekends end. Seminar I still have to do, hoping Dad will give a hand with that. Looking forward to Mamoa on SNL. 12/7/18 Pearl Harbor, a tragic event that led to a worse movie. But on this day there should be a new atalige on when it rains it pours for the winter. I call it When it snows it bursts, cause we all had issues today. Bravada may have a frozen gear shift. Eric lost another girlfriend, Connor may be out of a job, and Andrew may actually be doing better than any of us for once. This is a burst of bad luck. 12/8/18 A day that i had originally set out to do nothing now had me doing even less, thanks to the Bum gear shift. Not sure how we can fix that, other vehicle still waits in the wings. Watched more SpongeBob then i had in a long time wow I missed a bunch. Could really use some good in these next few days. 12/9/18 Packers finally won, just need miracles to happen in order to squeak into wild card. Vehicles e break lite may give me clue in order to fix it. Winter and Christmas need to show up quicker cause it certainly doesnt feel like it especially not around here. 12/10/18 Early night when it came to the back. Used VTO to leave early, stinks i lost a day but at least i caught up on stuff. 12/11/18 Bravada i bought finally became mine with licence plates. Saving insurance for after Christmas. Store had less on today which made the work at least plenteful. But the group with the exception of me and 2 others all left at 9:50 as we got left with the bulk of the cleanup. Not cool in the slightest. 12/12/18 First day with Bravada, not a bad go of things. Penultimate class, surprisingly am at an A hoping i can get this done within the next week. Contingency plan needed for tomorrow, will see SpiderMan on Saturday and hold off on Aquaman until after Christmas. 12/13/18 Nice to find out i can still tack miles on my feet. Will need to do that again soon. Packages got sent including book for retun. Retuned a bunch of stuff for gift stipened, hoping dad likes revenant more than hacksaw ridge. South Park finale made no sense. 12/14/18 Saving spiderverse for sunday, mainly so i can get rid off stuff at BAM, more cash more presents. Will still read Mortal Engines even though movie looks lousy. A lot of ties on countdown, and just discovered a couple i overlooked. Binging Bob's Burgers like crazy. Man that show is a lot better than i gave it credit for. Busted truck is gone from parking lot, didn't expect to have to have management nearly call cops on stolen vehicle though. 12/15/18 Day from hell is an understatement. Eric getting arested, Im working on stuff and Andrew seemed to not know when to keep his mouth shut. Bowl games starting today brought only form of relief. 12/16/18 Better day, Animated Spiderman was something to behold. Got bulk of christmas shopping out of the way. Bravada held up just wished i could get it back fully. Packers got knocked out of postseason. Just hope we can win one more, at least chances are good. Smash Bros Ultimate is awesome. 12/17/18 Mom's gift now safley wrapped. Football continues and the Saints better be hoping they stop stinkin things up. 12/18/18 Cap 2 was down to 4 with a mysterious virus going round. As everyone left by 6, i managed to get out early. Just hoping this doesnt come back to bite me in the butt. Hoping to wrap up gifts by Friday, Aquaman on Saturday may be possibile. Glad thats in town at least. Also did annual watch of Haruhi Suzumiya movie, how come they can't make a movie that long in America. Stinks it has to be shorter than 2 for animated. 12/19/18 Last Class, thankfully was short and sweet. Walked out in good mood after making thank you card. Just curious to know when i may get funds, cause have to take 2 classes otherwise just to get scholarship. Rose Bowl shirt looks great. Will finish gift wrapping by friday at least. 12/20/18 I dont know why but it just doesnt feel like christmas this year. Snow almost gone, skies are dreary and whatever mood were in around here just keeps going up. Better Days by Goo Goo Dolls seems more and more perfect in telling the moood were in right now. Hoping for a few good days, free christmas dinner at store tommorow should lift funk. 12/21/18 The mood certainly is festive store wise. Finished grabbing gifts. Wil be hoping they like them. 12/22/18 Down to the single digits in days left of 2018, one goal of mine i wished i picked up more on was the sign language aspect. Will be putting that back on the 2019 docket. Store for a few more days. Just hoped to go watch Aquaman thanks to VTO but based on what i got coming, better to hold off on that. 12/23/18 Penultimate truck of 2018, thankfully got that done by 10, finally got tree from mountain, bulbs i picked up worked brillantly. Hard to belive it all ends in a week. Good year overall. 12/24/18 Short 4 hours with only Chris and Cheyenne. Best store day of the year in which we turn off all lights and tell people who come in to leave. Cole on the other hand, once again, i got drugged out to fix his mess. Not pleasent. What was was prime rib and quiet dinner with family before i gave them gifts. Poofball hat idea worked on all but Dad may have to return his. Looking forward to nba on christmas day. Wonderful life and Polar Express double feature to round things out. 12/25/18 Linus from peanuts says it all. With angellic hosts proclaim christ is born in bethlehem. 12/26/18 Amazing how one day in total silence with family can turn into one explosive return to reality. All for the best 5 days of the year i suppose. Aquaman movie ended up being pretty great, never figured Julie Andrews would play a squid. Badgers Bowl game tomorrow then final day of work for year on friday. Just hopin i can get final blog posted on monday before library closes. Year is rapidly closing fast. Also 2nd Charlie Brown Christmas special sucks, a little bit much on the meaning of the season and not on what made the first special great all around. 12/27/18 Rain filled the day, a lot of water that may turn whatever snow we have into ice. Badgers won in Yankee Stadium and tomorrow is Walmart 2018 finale for me. Just wish i didn't have a week off after that, but i can make do with micro paycheck for a bit. Already trying to figure 2019 Goals, dont know whether to up it or lower it. Found Attack on Titan Season 3 on Digital. Yeah gonna be good tv this weekend. 12/28/18 The 2018 Season finale at Wallyworld. Epicly enjoyable. Just miffed that  have a week off with little to no Coverage coming in. May seek alternative option. Truck tire thankfully got fixed but other issue may now have arisen. Bad luck streak wrapping this year up strong isn't it? 12/29/18 Another college football playoff another Bama Clemson beatdown. At least Kyler and Oklahoma actually put up a fight. Not sure what movie to see tomorrow. Possibly saving Bumblebee for next week, or VICE. 12/30/18 Entry 364 and on this penultimate day, I chose to go see the Mary Poppins sequel. Oh man it was charming. The welcome balance of modern with slight hat tips to what came before. Packers embarrassingly concluded thier season. Orville came back on tonight and that was equally good, a bunch of side plots that somehow all culminated in one odd ritual where Bortus took a dump, and it was good. Looking forward to adding that on DVR. 5 Packages to send out tomorrow, not sure what i'll be doing when ball drops. 12/31/18 Bye Bye Yesterday...The culmination of 365 Days of life, and as we conclude 2018 I think, there was so much more I could have gotten done. 2 Weddings, A Super Bowl visit, watching Connor finish school, buying my first vehicle, nearly seeing a sporting event, and a prmomotion at wally world. So much more I could have squeezed in. Finished today up with helping dad with bread, and  he made chili, hoping that that wont make us all sick as hes been these last few days. As for this journaling buiness.  I may look into continuing this come 2019. After all that is now as i have put it the year of the endgame.  Definetly would want to chronicle that. Though maybe i'll go the Your Name Route and download an app to chronicle that for my Phone and Ipad. Here's to you 2018, now as Thanos snaps at 11:53 you'll crumble to dust and fade away in our minds and hearts. Its time for the next chapter, and im ready...To Be hopefully continued.

                                       End of 2018 Journal

[jmaria200]

Sweet Pain

05/28/2018

Sweet Pain

05/28/2018

The first full day of the new eating lifestyle has come and gone and I’m in such need of a piece of strawberry licorice. I not sure if I should call it a diet(actually you don’t lose weight this time around), a lifestyle, torture, etc. It’s official name is The Whole 30, another food fad that attempts to right the wrongs of the American diet. This time sugar, specifically processed sugars,(you know everything that tastes great and is addicting), preservatives, starches are the enemies and the Whole 30 commands you to get rid of them, cold turkey. Instead you are beholden to meat, nuts, fish and other proteins and fruit for thirty days.

My wife, a worse junk food junkie than me, is on the hunt for the latest ways to curb her yearnings and this was her latest find. Having long waged the secret inner war with my sweet tooth face it almost all of us do, I signed up and even after the first day I’m craving good old fashioned sugar. Lord, what would we do without it in this country? Maybe not be so fat? I’ve decided to keep this online journal of my progress and my pain over the next 30 days.  

5/29/2018

I feel lethargic, my mouth is constantly watering, and my head is fuzzy, . This marks the second day of the Whole30. Food, once reliable comfort, has become a antagonist. The kitchen is a mine field where I must step carefully. It is so easy to pluck out a sensual chocolate covered marshmallow from a red colored box and bite into it. The food I can eat sits like a bag of sand in my gut. It keeps me sustained but not happy.

I’ve read some of the literature and what I’m going through is quite normal and it will get worse before it gets better. My body is converting slowly converting from sugar based fuel to fat fuel (apparently good fats) however it doesn’t know how to do that yet so I am sluggish. I think I will accompany this blog with some research on the story of Americans obsession with sugar and processed foods. Writing will help distract me.  

5/30/2018

Here I am two days behind. I’ll try to catch you up. I’m going to try to focus on not what I and my wife are doing this meal plan but why we’re doing it. Why this radical life change? I found this list symptoms from a website of a fitness expert. Guess what these refer too. 

Anxiety

Changes in appetite

Cravings

Flu-like symptoms

Depression

Mood changes

Dizziness

Fatigue

Headaches

Shakiness

Changes in sleep patterns

Weight loss

Stomach flu? Food poisoning? Nope. These are the symptoms of sugar detox. Yep, that’s right. This is what happens if you take sugar out of your diet and I’m not talking about cookies and ice cream and chocolate. This plan goes much deeper: bread, pasta, beans, etc. All of these types of food are broken down into sugars in your body and sugars are being linked to inflammation, bad skin, poor mood, etc.

Now America is the land of diets and eating fads as in the end we as a society have little idea of what to eat and what is good for us. If this meal plan sounds like one the many movements out there that finds its enemy: fat, gluten, carbohydrates, etc and profits off getting people worked up about it, your right and I agree. More to come on this.  

6/8/18

It is now day 11 of the Whole 30 food plan and clearly my attempts to keep up with this blog on a regular basis have failed. This is a conglomerate of previously mentioned twin infants that need near constant car and the mission to find not only summer employment but full term employment.  I can easily recap most of what has happened in those missed days.

First, I feel I must break away from food talk only and integrate my career story as it is the other side of the coin that is my life right now and it is in trouble.  My job history has been a floundering mess. I won’t go into all the gritty details as I feel they’ve been with me for at least a quarter of my life here on earth and they can get repetitive and depressing.  Let’s say I had little idea of what I wanted to do coming out of college. I tried a few different fields usually based more on “this interests me” than real research. This tactic did not work very well. The pile of temporary, part time, and “road not taken” jobs grew and grew and, at forty two, I have yet to have a steady full time job. I discovered a love of teaching in my mid thirties, specifically freshman composition at the community college level, but I have remained woefully underemployed as an adjunct for five of the six part years.  This lack of opportunity is a combination of the need for excessive education and experience for even entry level positions, the ongoing deterioration of the the writing career field, and the heightening level of competition.  I also believe my subdued personality does not help my chances.  I now have a family that depends on me and I’ve been able to do no better than a one year contract for the small Onondaga community college in upstate New York.  Since then I’ve tried to shift into high school teaching. Once again the need for degrees and certification is rigorous. I have a master’s degree, albeit not in education, and was led to believe by the recruitment people of Anne Arundel community college master’s in education program that I could potentially land temporary teaching employment while gaining my certification. The Baltimore County public school systems didn’t seem to see it this way.(go figure) I’ve also had little to no help in figuring out what to put in my application packet to make me a more attractive candidate.  Since the Onondaga success, my job search has become a rather dark cycle of sending out applications and getting rejections.  Being a daddy doesn’t allow me much time to network and I tend to be poor in this area. I’ve sought out help from the state career program, but it is painfully slow.  I take time to write about because I think the cumulative effect has become a mixture of depression and anxiety. Depression? That word is scary what with two celebrities having recently committed suicide in thew news. I have a family history of it. I have felt worn down and isolated lately but could it be that? Not knowing for sure is more worrisome which might lead to more depression. I go to bed anxious over money, anxious that my family will be well off, and wondering how many more years I need to struggle. II worry about retirement of course. I’ve scraped and saved what I could but without a solid income it’s going to be woefully inadequate. Could it be depression? I keep searching out some signal of depression in my consciousness as if I might uncover it but people who are depressed generally aren’t good at diagnosing their own condition. It’s hard to link the physical symptoms to something mental. 

So what do I do? Well, I’m working hard to stay focused, to get more organized, but I need the help of others and that help is hard to find. I need career help. I’m leary of the integrity of paid career consultants but how long can I keep floundering? I can see this summer will be tedious. It will be about slowly piecing together the knowledge to get a foot in the door in high school and probably working a part time job that is a poor fit to get there. I will need strong doses of positivity and support in my life and a real sense of direction. I’m not sure where to find that right now. I love Aurora but she is not strong at being emotionally supportive, at least not for me.  I will have to do some research on where I can find the help I need. I will leave my story there for now.

Whew, one of the best functions of writing is catharsis, to get one’s thoughts out there. It’s not pretty but it’s necessary. I wrote the previous section because it captures what is happening outside of the Whole30 and being a father and is vital to how I have been feeling over the past four days both mentally and physically. At first I’d naturally thought my symptoms were linked to the change in eating habits, but last Wednesday they took a real turn for the worst. I hadn’t felt that strange in a long time-just heavy and thick headed with blurry vision and shortness of breath. Each day I’ve felt a little better thankfully. I went to the doctor today to rule out physical cause. She didn’t find anything obvious but I still have blood labs pending that the neglected to get done. The intense labor of the Whole30 hasn’t helped my mood. No single meal is a simple grab and go and the constant preparation is taxing. in fact, I must bring this blog to a close now.

6/23/18

We are a nation of sugar addicts. “Two hundred years ago, the average American ate only 2 pounds of sugar a year. In 1970, we ate 123 pounds of sugar per year. Today, the average American consumes almost 152 pounds of sugar in one year. This is equal to 3 pounds (or 6 cups) of sugar consumed in one week��� (www.dhhs.nh.gov). Sugar is everywhere in our diet slipped into breads and bacon to make them more desirable so we eat more. Here’s the little secret that is not really a secret: these foods are desirable while not satisfying so we eat more and more so we buy more. Food companies figured this out a long time ago. It’s good for business and bad for people. These are one of the tenants of the Whole 30, to become aware of how we are being manipulated this way. Whats more, like many business influenced trends, these machinations only become really effective when they are normalized by culture. Just think about how many American cultural norms involve sweets and processed food of some form: cakes at birthdays, drinking alcohol at social gathering, cheap vending food at sporting events. If you want to stand out at just about any social gathering  American society, try avoiding foods with sugars and processed foods.  Many conversations this way leading inevitably to discussion of the Whole 30. This was one of the most surprising side effects of being on this meal plan. I and my wife had to educate the waiter of a expensive steak house in Washington D.C. on the guidelines of our meal plan. Most dining out experiences will be this way. Sorry, but we can’t eat ninety five percent of the food on the menu. 

Just walking into a grocery store, I was shocked by how much was off limits: pasta, cereal, juice, etc.  That was one of the great challenges of this diet. What could we eat? Obviously, there was meats and vegetables and fruits but what about diary? beans?. They don’t have added sugar, right?  While diary and things like beans did not have added sugar they include sugars and other chemicals that aren’t necessarily healthy.(For more on this read the accompanying book It Starts With Food).  If you’re skeptical at this point, I’m understand. I’m still a skeptic. After all, the Whole 30 is another lifestyle program, one of many products that is being marketed to the public in the age of food confusion in this country.  

7/1/18

Promises, Promises...

“Systemic inflammation” seems to be the catchphrase behind the Whole 30. (There’s a lot of food science behind this that I won’t go into. Again read the book). The jist of systemic inflammation is that bad foods silently hurts your body. Over time this damage shows up as illnesses including allergies, depression, and diabetes. Eating foods that contribute to both physical and psychological well being can lead to better health. This idea seems legitimate enough but then the authors also include anecdotes by people with illnesses ranging from lyme disease to diabetes whose symptoms disappeared after being on the Whole 30. You can practically hear the credibility of the writers straining here. I had eczema before the Whole 30 and and I still have eczema after it. All in all, taking sugar out and adding more protein is beneficial to people but let’s hold off on the miracles.

While I’m on the topic of veracity, I can understand the authors of the Whole 30 exaggerating the effects of their meal plan- after all maybe one person out there with lyme disease did experience an improvement in their symptoms and, if this doesn’t happen, no one would necessarily be worse off-since their plan seems sound and is self directed for the most part. I didn’t need to constantly by products from the authors of the Whole 30.  But what about those companies that, for all intensive purposes, are influential on our health, what about the stories that the food industry tell? 

“the post-crash world appears to have become much more cynical about the behavior and motives of corporations.” (Beatte).  Unless you’ve been “off the grid” for most of your life you’re probably all too familiar with the constant avalanche of ads that are forced upon Americans everyday so much so that, like me, you’d do anything to get away from them. Now I’ve already covered the influences of advertising in another part of this blog; however, the food industry holds a special place among advertisers as, for better or worse, they often determine what we put in our bodies in this country and this isn’t necessarily due to their popularity but a well designed combination of market control and addiction.

The master plan

The current state of the American diet is, like most institutions, a result of the interaction between corporations, the government, and the individual where each party is both influential and under the influence.  However, what is key here is that the influence of the individual has eroded significantly over the years unless they happen to be wealthy enough to be influential. Government has responded more to these wealthy and corporations creating more and more of a corporate dictated agenda.   

The Food Guys

If you do a little research you’ll find that thanks to constant mergers and take overs about ten mega corporations control most of the U.S. food production. Think about that, just ten! Some are well known like Pepsico, which owns Tropicana, Quaker, Lays, while others are more obscure like Unilever that owns Knorr, Good Humor, and Skippie. Regardless, you can bet you’ve eaten something made by one of of these ten companies recently.  Much like health care and airline travel, a key aspect of weakly regulated capitalism is that power in the form of market control can be consolidated in the hands of a few major players and this is scary especially when it comes to our food.  These companies may not necessarily set out to give people cheap, poor quality food  but this arises out of an effective business model that calls for high profit and low cost and if one is successful they can dominate the market. This model may work for computers or cars but not necessarily food. 

Now before I go on lambasting corporations there are some important details to cover.  A good capitalist would probably argue that companies are simply responding to market demands. This is one of the classic “pass the buck” phrases business people use to recuse themselves(and it drives me crazy)but it is important to consider. Keep firmly in mind the question: “Who has helped create these market demands?”

Today, people have less free time to prepare and consume their meals. Yes, this seems to be the trend ever since the post World War II years when consumer culture took off in this country and packaged, processed food along with it. Appliances became more commonplace in the home, woman started to go to college and get jobs outside the home, and the car became more available. One of the largest changes in the household was the television. Now with the help of the tv dinner one could watch their favorite shows and eat at the same time. Over the years the cost of living has increased, wages have stagnated, and people have to work more than ever to keep up. Business stepped up and what started with the tv dinner has slowly blown up into a full industry of packaged, processed food. These foods were tasty and easy to make. How many times has these phrases been uttered in a food commercial?  Consider though who has influenced many of these lifestyle changes? Who has increased the working day, kept wages generally flat, and increased costs? The general picture is that businesses have either through direct influence or through influence on government public policy and today Americans are probably more stressed and less healthy than every before.

Consider how foods are advertised in this country. Let’s take the Coca Cola corporation. Coca Cola is best known for their soda but they also control a large percentage of what we drink: Perrier water, Minute maid juice, and Nos energy drink. Coca Cola often uses images of young, hip looking people smiling and drinking their soda(Heck, what company out there doesn’t use young, hip, ethnically diverse people to sell their product? That is a generalization...let us continue). These ads remind you that drinking soda (pure sugar and other flavorings in carbonated water) can be fun and social, so much more than just soda. There is of course no mention that soda with destroy your teeth and probably cripple your health over time. An advertiser would have to be insane to let on such information about their product. But imagine if they did. If there was a disclaimer at the end of soda commercials. Would it make a difference? I’m betting not and this is where the addiction factor comes in. Look at smoking. It is well known that smoking can cause serious health problems and even death.There are commercials and prints ads constantly advertising these facts yet people continue to smoke because it is addictive. In the information age, people generally know the health threats of drinking soda over a life time yet they still do. This is where individual choice does come in(more on this later) and, as mentioned before, sugar is another addictive substance and companies rely on this.

The Coca Cola corporation doesn’t claim their product is healthy but many other companies do. Take cereals. Breakfast cereals are often so processed that there is little nutritionally value, yet companies put labels on like “part of a balanced breakfast”, “containing vitamins A, B....”, “5 whole grains”. Companies attempt to replace some of the lost nutrition in these foods but they are far from healthy. Also any nutrition is offset by the amount of sugar in these cereals. This is especially tragic when one realizes that some of the worst cereals are marketed to children with flashy cartoon characters, logos, and commercials. I admit it wouldn’t take much for me to eat a bowl of Count Chocula even now knowing how bad for me it is. That is growing up in this country. I hope different for my children, but the corporate machine is hard to escape.

The Men in Black

“Read the farm bill, and a big problem jumps right out at you: Taxpayers heavily subsidize corn and soy, two crops that facilitate the meat and processed food we’re supposed to eat less of, and do almost nothing for the fruits and vegetables we’re supposed to eat more of.” (Haspel)

Healthy food like fruits and vegetables are usually more costly to grow and transport and organic food can’t use chemical pesticides,herbicides, or genetically modified organisms. Since the 1930′s the United States government has subsidized (helped pay for) farming in this country to protect our food sources as raising food can be unpredictable.  The Farm Bill began with good intentions but the money has slowly been funneled to supporting a few crops like corn and soy that are versatile and can be broken down and used in many processed and unhealthy foods. Consider that our government is supporting the production of poor quality foods? What does this mean for us? It means the commonly cited downsides of the the American diet: diabetes, obesity, heart disease, etc. all given a stamp of approval by politicians who are pledged to watch out for us. On the plus side not being subsidized is often favored by farmers as they don’t need to meet the regulations set by the government but it still means people will pay more.  People do have the choice not to eat these foods, but realistically not everyone can afford these costs and, if they can’t, people become trapped eating unhealthy food cycles not to mention deepening the already aggravated class divide in America. It’s much easier to get potato chips than organic fruit. Organic apples are on average three dollars a pound(which means about two) while potato chips are three dollars a bag. You can eat a lot more chips for the same money but the chips are sad, empty calories but, as I mentioned earlier, people will buy and eat them not because they are healthy but we have slowly become wired to do so. Currently slashing or stalling social welfare programs is the trend in government. Public policy has become heavily influenced by corporate interest over public good due in large part to funding of campaigns by companies and the wealthy ergo there is little possibility right now.

Choice of the People

Our American class structure can be seen in our food. The neighborhood I currently live in, which shall remain unnamed for reasons of privacy, is considered marginal. People are more often working class and black. This neighborhood was also known as a urban food desert for some time.(One neighborhood over is a wealthy, mostly white neighborhood with a high end, albeit expensive grocery store). Food deserts are areas without a decent source of healthy foods. They exist in the poorer sections of many major U.S. cities including New Orleans, New York, and Memphis. 7-11′s and corner bodegas often don’t count. In fact, the convenience store is one of the greatest offenders concerning food choice. They have made food too convenient. Just look at the shelves of any convenience store.

A low end grocery store finally came to this neighborhood. They stack most of their products on the floor instead of on shelves, their staff is poorly trained, and, while the store does sell fresh produce and even a little organic food if you look hard, the majority of the products are standard processed foods: Drakes desserts, chips, processed meats, etc. I’ve watched people in line with carts filled with soda. I can’t be too critical as I was making poor food choices all the same, but not on this level. Why does anyone would need ten bottles of soda? The evidence is in the obese bodies and poor skin. Yet, people consume these foods. This can be for three main reasons: they are aware but apathetic, they aren’t aware, they are aware but not doing enough or following one the ineffective “diets” out there. Often the poor and working class fall in the second category.

Back to Biology

Early humans had to eat what they could kill or gather(Raising crops for a stable source of food came later). We subsisted on meats, berries, nuts, etc. These were necessary, nutritious sources of protein and fiber. Fats and sugars were rare and highly desirable as they meant easy calories especially for lean times. This is where our evolutionary biology was cemented and still functions this way, but now we are provided a plethora of cheap fats and sugars everywhere. They taste good and give us a quick boost. But these foods don’t provide sufficient nutrition so we are constantly needing to eat more and more while gaining mostly empty calories and health problems. This makes sense if you stand back and think about it. This is the “addiction” factor that aids companies in getting us to eat poor quality food. The food makes us feel good in the short term, but in the long run we crash and need more. Thus, the “addiction” factor.

Apple or Ring Ding?

While sugar, fat, and salt can be addictive and some people have financial problems, ultimately people choose what they put in their bodies and their bodies will hold them responsible. This is especially true when we are people who know or suspect what we eat is bad for us and continue to do so.  I believe this is tied to an idea I’ve brought up before, our culture. America is the land of opportunity where we can all have the American dream that are really just that for most of us, a dream that we continue to cling too. This ability to better ourselves is both beautiful and tragic. America is a society whose people struggle to face it’s darker sides instead burying them in indulgences or placing blame elsewhere. This collective denial makes us extremely malleable. We are already primed to believe in our food, our politics, our society.  No matter how self destructive over time vices become misconstrued as personal rights. By buying gas guzzling vehicles, shopping, indulging in poor quality foods, collecting dangerous guns we declare our freedom from the system when it’s the system that is providing these.  This beautiful psychology that companies can only cheer us on and count their money. Buy more. Eat more. Excess is wonderful. Be rebellious and trendy by buying phones and drinking soda. Companies let us down, cheat us, and we still buy their products and elect officials who take their money.  We grumble when the government doesn’t punish these companies but we don’t either. Despite having mentioned the short comings and influences of corporations and government, it is up to us to determine what is good for us. I believe what we’ve lost sight of the most in this country is the sense of personal advocacy and a sense of unity to stand up ourselves, the power of the customer, of the voter. Instead we fight and criticize and go along.

The experience of the Whole 30 has helped me be a healthier person, but it has really helped me take action and reconsider my perspective concerning the food I eat. I’ve tried to relay the many facets of what I’ve learned here for others who may be curious. Also I should end with there are some positive changes on horizon.  Organic food is now available in more grocery stores than ever before. The fast casual restaurant offer healthier choices that have eaten into the profits of fast food companies like McDonald’s, all because educated customers have demanded it. However, changes need to come from the top down, from the government and that is where the real hard work comes in because first we need to heal the rifts in our society. Then maybe we can eat better.

7/5/18

The Results.

The end of the Whole 30 has arrived, well, it actually arrived more than a week ago so clearly I’m not a dedicated diarist. I’ve also done the “reintroduction” portion of the meal plan where by I bring back the foods I’ve given up.I’m going to discuss both the small scale and bigger picture results of this experiment.

The results:

I can taste more, For example, fruits are sweeter and meats are richer.

I have more consistent energy.

I don’t get as hungry between meals.

I don’t have the craving for added sugar that I once did but I can tell from sampling foods with added sugar that it is quite easy to go back.

Diary is hard on my stomach.

Alcohol gives me a headache even after one glass of wine