#i don’t want to judge people for how they spend their money but why would you go on this sub if it wasn’t completely up to code

[1smolbean]

the whole “a submarine that costs 250k per ticket and is made up of cobbled-together parts that you can only open from the outside because it is secured by 17 deadbolts went missing while carrying several very rich people to tour the wreckage of the titanic, a ship that over 1500 (mostly working class) people died on, a ship whose wreckage should not become a tourist attraction because people fucking died there” situation that’s going on right now is just. so much in a way that i can’t really describe

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #58 Part 1

His parents studied ghosts. Danny didn’t understand as a kid why everyone made fun of his parents. Now that he was 12, the thought was ludicrous and yet his parents continued their work on the portal. Danny had his sister Jazz though and the siblings were rather close. 

Jazz had spent a lot of time studying lately stating that she wanted to get into a good college. Danny understood he did, but being alone sucked and he couldn’t help it as he sighed kicking a pebble down the sidewalk. 

It was a nice hot summer day, the kind of day you’d want to spend at the beach or a pool. Danny however had other ideas. He was on the way to the local library. If Jazz was going to spend her summer studying for the ACTs then Danny was going to study what he wanted, Space. He quickly found a few books and got settled into a chair as he read. Space really was fascinating, he hoped one day his dream of becoming an astronaut would come true. 

An hour or so passed before Danny was interrupted, “what are you reading?” The voice started Danny out of his trance as he looked up at his interrupter. A boy about the same age as Danny with the same black hair and blue eyes that Danny had. His skin was more tan than Danny’s own pale white. 

Danny fidgeted in his seat for a moment before answering, “Astronomy: guide to the stars” Sure, Danny knew the text was college level but he already read all the ones for high and middle school. 

Damian seemed to hum thoughtfully with a hand on his chin before speaking again, “the book you're reading seems advanced, you seem smarter than your age would dictate. Father has requested that I visit the library and try to ‘make a friend or two’ in his words. I don’t see the need for companionship but if I must I’d rather it be with someone intelligent. My name is Damian.” It was a bit much but Danny guessed from what Damian said that he was complementing Danny. 

“Uh, Danny… I guess most of the people in my family are pretty smart.” He replied after a moment. 

Danny thought it was odd that someone wanted to be friends with him. Everyone at the public elementary school he went to knew who his parents were so they wanted nothing to do with him. It was lonely but Danny didn’t mind it too much, but Damian didn’t act like he knew Danny’s Parents. The thought of having a friend that didn’t judge him for who his parents were made Danny a little excited. 

“What occupation do your parents have?” It was a simple question with a not so simple answer. 

Oh, Danny’s heart stuttered a little bit at the thought of Damian knowing anything about. He didn’t want to lie, especially to his new friend but he didn’t want to tell him the truth. 

“Uh, they’re scientists but I don’t really know what they do…” Danny said carefully and slowly. He was sure Damian bought it. 

The two spent the next couple hours just talking in the library. It had started to get late and Damian needed to head back home. 

“Do you own your own phone?” Damian asked, it wasn’t uncommon, for most kids in his class had a cheap hand me down phone for emergencies. Danny unfortunately didn’t as his parents probably didn’t care where he was.

Danny shrugged, “not really, I could borrow my sisters but it really only gets used for emergencies.” 

Damian seemed to frown at this thinking for a moment before nodding as if he came to a conclusion, “my brother Todd has mentioned that it’s hard for low income houses to afford something I’d consider a necessity in this city. You do know how high the crime rate is, yes?” Danny nodded but he didn’t know what that had to do with having a phone Damian cleared his throat before continuing, “as you are now my friend I’d like to offer to purchase one for you.”

Danny hadn’t owned anything like a phone before, “a-are you sure? I don’t really need one, my parents don’t really… care?” He felt uncomfortable with his new friend spending money on him, Damian seemed like an important person especially with the clothes he wore and how he carried himself. Danny felt like he’d be taking advantage of his new friend if he bought Danny a phone. Danny closed the book he was holding and took a breath before speaking again, “I appreciate the offer but I wouldn’t have anything to offer you in return.” He let his gaze fall to the cover of the book, a swirling galaxy on a black background and bold yellow text. 

“I would not have offered it if I wasn’t sure.” Damian stated firmly causing Danny’s head to snap back up, “I do not need anything in return, however if you really intend to pay me back, Father has insisted that I bring a friend home sometime. Since we have established that we are friends I insist that you come visit every so often to, as Richard puts it ‘get him off my back’.” It sounded like a simple request but Danny was unsure. If Damian was someone important then his family was bound to be even more important. 

He took a moment to think about it, but Jazz would be happy Danny finally made a friend…

“Alright, I accept,” Danny said as they shook hands. It might have been a little childish but he could tell he made some sort of bond with Damian. 

After that they had quickly become friends. Once Danny had become accustomed to being in the Wayne house he basically became family, and was often visiting, especially to eat Mr. Pennyworths cooking. Mr. Wayne also seemed fond of Danny, he even offered to pay for Danny to go to Gotham Academy along with Damian. Danny had been hesitant at first but Damian quickly wore him down. Tim eventually wormed his way into the group as he and Danny bonded over the latest video game releases. Soon Jazz got roped into the group too as she started to visit the manor to get away from how noisy the lab got. 

A couple years had passed since the day that started the road to their friendship and the four of them had really bonded since then. Unfortunately their parents had finished the portal and its here where things go downhill for Danny.

In the next one Danny dies and all 4 of them are deeply traumatized.

Damian saw his dad doing research on the Fenton family, Bruce is just looking out for potential rouges and Damian took the opportunity to become friends with Danny. He figured that he could just bribe Danny into being his friend like all the kids at his school try but Danny is a lil cinnamon roll. Taken aback from how sweet Danny is Damian decided that Danny really was smart and worth being a friend. Tim has the same thoughts especially as Danny starts visiting the mansion more. Jazz loved that Danny had a spot to go where people seemed to actually care about him and she eventually gets dragged into the group. You can only drop off your brother at the Wayne’s so often before you get dragged into the group as well and I thought Tim and Jazz can be the same age and can bond over being older siblings.

[sparkle-fiend]

Steve loves Valentine’s Day.

It’s a holiday celebrating love and romance; the whole point is to shower someone with affection (and hopefully get laid at the end of the night). What’s not to like about that?

With girls, Valentine’s was easy. Big box of chocolates, a dozen red roses, dinner at a fancy restaurant (and maybe a little jewelry or something - depending on how much he likes her). A sweet card, for sure.

Now that he’s dating Eddie, Valentine’s Day presents more of a… challenge. 

“Ugh, what am I gonna do Rob? We walked through the greeting card aisle at Melvald’s and he pretended to puke. He doesn’t want flowers or chocolate or anything.”

He knows he’s whining. He’s slumped dramatically in the single office chair in the Family Video breakroom, spinning slowly (like a pathetic little rotisserie chicken, according to Robin). He’s probably got about five more minutes before Robin snaps.

“Why do you have to do anything? You know Valentine’s Day isn’t even a real holiday – it’s just an excuse to get people to spend money on crap they don’t need…”

“Oh my god, stop! You sound just like Eddie. Valentine's isn't about spending money, it's about... showing people that you love them. Making them feel happy and appreciated and special. It’s about celebrating love.”

Robin tilts her head and her face goes a little soft, the way it does when he says something she wasn't expecting (but in a good way, not like when he says something so dumb that her body collapses and she says he's obliterated her will to live). 

"That’s actually surprisingly sweet Steve. Okay….” she sighs and looks up at the ceiling as she thinks. “Maybe... you could try making something? He liked those cookies you baked for movie night." 

“Those cookies were terrible.” Practically inedible. Eddie was the only person that ate more than one. (Which was either a true declaration of love in and of itself, or proof that Eddie will eat literally anything when he's stoned.) 

"I don't know, Eddie is pretty easy to please. You could give him like... a cool rock, and he would probably love it." 

Steve sits upright so fast he nearly overturns the chair. "Robin, you're a genius!!" 

She blinks at him. "Clearly. But also, why exactly?" 

Eddie is like a crow. He's forever picking up little odds and ends - cool rocks, stickers, shiny bits of paper. At Christmas, he collected the bows off of everyone's presents. Sometimes, he incorporates the stuff he finds into little props and models for his D&D games, but other times he just keeps it. He's got a whole drawer devoted to his little 'hoard', as he calls it. 

Steve explains all this to Robin, who just shakes her head in bemusement. "He is so weird," she says fondly. 

"Yeah," Steve agrees. He would have recoiled from that oddity in high school - would have been worried what other people would think. Scared they would judge him for associating with someone like that. 

He doesn’t give a shit, these days. He sees the way Eddie lights up with happiness at the smallest things, so full of excitement and passion, and it just makes him smile. He feels grateful that he gets to bask in that reflected joy, like a flower soaking up the sun.

Valentines is two weeks away, which gives Steve plenty of time to collect a bounty of little treasures. He hits the pawn shop, the thrift store - he even drives out to the weird antique shop about an hour out of town, which looks like a normal house on the outside and is crammed to the rafters with knick-knacks and bric-a-brac when you walk inside. 

He also trawls the quarry, the lake, and the woods behind his house. It's tough, because usually Eddie's little treasures just look like trash to Steve. He's not a very creative person himself, but he tries hard to see the world the way his boyfriend would. 

If that means Steve finds himself debating for over half an hour on which rock is more appealing, well – it will all be worth it in the end.

———

Steve stays over at Eddie's, the night before Valentines. (At this point, he spends more time at the Munson's house than he does at his own.) 

He wakes up early, slipping out of bed with slow, careful movements. As usual, Eddie rolls over with a faint grumble, bundling himself into a burrito of blankets to compensate for the void of warmth left by Steve's absence. 

He moves down the hall, avoiding each creaky board like it's a booby trap in the Temple of Doom, until he reaches the kitchen - which is where Steve breaks routine. He sneaks out the back door and races across the driveway in his boxers, hopping and cursing as the frigid gravel stings his bare feet. 

His carefully cultivated stash of gifts is in the glove compartment of the BMW. He already has a plan for which one will be first, so he grabs it and closes the door (slowly, slowly - the sound of Steve moving around the house is familiar, but a car door slamming in the driveway at this time of morning would wake Eddie for sure). 

The first gift is a blue jay feather he found in the woods, perfect and clean with vivid blue and black stripes. He tucks it carefully under the edge of the ash tray that sits on the porch railing, before slipping back inside to start breakfast.

Thirty minutes later Eddie appears, drawn by the warm smell of coffee and the sound of bacon popping in the pan. 

He drapes himself over Steve's back and murmurs, "G'mornin," sleepily into the shell of his ear, the way he does every morning after Steve spends the night. This time, Steve balances his spatula on the edge of the pan and turns so that he can wrap his arms around his boyfriend’s waist. 

He presses a cheerful kiss to the corner of Eddie's mouth and says, "Happy Valentine’s Day." 

Eddie groans dramatically and throws his head back, the rest of his bodyweight following. If Steve didn't have a firm grip around his waist, he would have toppled over backward; the move turns into an awkward backbend instead. 

"Stevie please, it's too early for that crap. Wait until I've had my coffee at least." 

Steve grins. He releases his hold just long enough for Eddie to yelp and scrabble for balance before catching him and pulling him close again. 

"Jesus Christ," Eddie gasps. 

"Careful," Steve says with a smug grin, laughing when Eddie shoves him in the chest and pulls away.

They eat breakfast together, and then Steve follows Eddie outside for his morning cigarette. 

"Holy shit, look at this!" Eddie turns to Steve with the blue jay feather pinched between his fingers, grinning with delight. He hasn't brushed his hair yet and he's got a smear of bacon grease on his cheek, but he's so beautiful in that moment - so full of joy it shines out of him, like a lighthouse.

Just because he found a feather. Steve smiles back, helplessly besotted. "Pretty cool." 

Eddie twirls the feather between his fingers before tucking it behind his ear. “That’s a sign that today is gonna be a good day.”

Steve presses his mouth to the edge of his coffee cup to hide his expression. “Yeah, I think so too.”

———

Eddie rolls into the Family Video parking lot around 2 in the afternoon to visit before his band practice. He strolls inside and leans against the counter, plonking a silver wrapped Hershey kiss down in front of Steve. 

“Kiss for a kiss?” he says, with a smarmy grin. Steve rolls his eyes, but he checks to make sure they’re alone in the store before swooping forward for a quick peck on the lips.

“I got you something too,” he says.

“Oh?” Eddie raises one eyebrow, managing to look both curious and skeptical. “Please tell me it’s not a cheesy greeting card.”

Steve flips him the bird before reaching into his pocket. He pulls the keychain out and lets it dangle from one finger in front of Eddie’s face.

His boyfriend’s immediate reaction is to wrinkle his nose in disgust. The keychain is a garish red plastic heart, definitely the antithesis of Eddie’s usual metalhead vibe.

But it’s also sparkly. 

Steve’s lips curl into a satisfied smirk as Eddie takes the keychain from him, reluctantly admiring the way light sparks off the flakes of holographic glitter embedded in the plastic. The cheap little thing shimmers like a ruby in the afternoon sun.

“Some kid dropped it. They never came back, so it’s yours if you want it.” (That’s technically true, although Steve has been holding on to it for nearly a month now, waiting for today.)

“Oh, well then.” Eddie stuffs the keychain into his pocket. “Finders keepers, losers weepers!” He sticks his tongue out, eyes wide and exaggerated – then leans across the counter and licks Steve’s nose.

“Gross!” Steve sputters with laughter. He scrubs at his face and looks up just in time to see Eddie wave jauntily on his way out the door, a second Hershey kiss left sitting on the counter in his wake.

———

After Steve's shift is over, he runs home for a quick shower and a change of clothes before meeting Eddie at the diner. 

He did his best to talk his boyfriend into going on a proper date, but the most he could get Eddie to agree to was milkshakes and a movie (my choice Stevie, not some lame romance).

Steve walks into the diner and spots Eddie at the back booth. He saunters over and sets the third present onto the sticky Formica table with a click. It's a small golden gear, nearly paper-thin. 

"Check it out. Found this in the parking lot." 

(That's a lie. Steve carefully picked apart a broken old watch from the thrift shop in order to extract a handful of the little gears.)

"Hey, cool! I bet I could use this in the model I'm working on." Eddie pulls the pack of cigarettes out of his coat pocket and drops the gear inside for safe keeping. 

"What's the model for?" Steve asks.

Eddie launches into an animated explanation of the character he's creating for a new Hellfire campaign - a sun-worshiping priest that intends to trick the party into becoming a ritual sacrifice. 

"... and that gear thing would look pretty good on the top of his staff." 

Steve doesn't understand much of what Eddie's saying, but he loves the way his boyfriend talks with his whole body, moving his hands and shoulders and head along with the words. He rests his chin in his hand and lets Eddie ramble until the milkshakes arrive, smiling like a dope the whole time.

Eddie has no concept of time, so Steve is in charge of making sure they finish their milkshakes and leave the diner in time to make it to the movie. As Eddie slides into the passenger seat of the BMW, he says, “Hey – you think we have enough time to stop by the Circle K?”

Steve turns in his seat as he reverses out of the parking lot. "What do you need at the Circle K?" 

"Snacks! You can't go to a movie without provisions Stevie! And don't say we can buy some at the concessions stand, because the prices they charge are ridiculous."

“Well if we stop now, we’ll be late – but I’ve got some Milk Duds and trail mix…” Steve doesn’t realize what’s happening until it’s too late. Eddie pops open the glove compartment in his search for snacks, revealing Steve’s little stash of gifts. 

Eddie frowns in confusion. “What the hell?” He rifles through the pile as Steve groans.

“Shit. You weren’t supposed to see those yet.”

“What is all this?” Eddie picks up a ring, turning it over in his hands. It's a bulky silver biker ring, like the ones Eddie wears every day - only this one is shaped like a bat with tiny ruby eyes. Steve is particularly proud of that one, discovered in a box of assorted rings at the pawn shop.

Steve gnaws at his lip and runs a hand through his hair, ruining all his careful styling. "I know you hate Valentines, but I wanted to do something. Just… to show you how much I love you. So instead of the cards and flowers and stuff, I tried to find little things you might actually like. For your, you know… your 'dragon hoard' or whatever you call it."

"So the keychain and the gear..."

"And the feather."

Eddie's eyebrow twitches. He stares at the contents of the glove compartment; at the water smoothed stone from the lake and the multicolored twist of ribbon, the vivid green marble and the tiny mother of pearl locket. He looks down at the ring still clutched in his hand, and blinks rapidly. 

Steve glances nervously between Eddie and the road, hands tight on the steering wheel. He's disappointed that the surprise has been ruined, but more concerned about Eddie's reaction. He'd expected the other boy to laugh or tease him, not this... whatever this is. 

Finally, Eddie clears his throat roughly and speaks. "Actually, can we just head back to my place? I've got something I wanna show you, and I don't think I can wait through the movie." 

“Uh… sure.”

Steve's brain is buzzing as he takes a left instead of a right at the intersection. He's worked himself into a bit of a panic by the time they pull into the Munson's driveway. "Eddie, I..." 

Eddie interrupts him, practically throwing himself across the center console as he drags Steve into a fierce kiss. By the time Eddie lets him go, Steve is panting. "Wha...?" 

"Wait here," Eddie says with a wild grin. He presses Steve back into the seat for emphasis. "Don't move." 

He takes the steps up the porch two at a time and fumbles with his key to get inside as Steve watches in a daze. He has no idea what's going on. 

After a few minutes, Eddie returns to the door. He's pulled on a t-shirt with a faux tuxedo printed on the front, and he's standing straight backed in the doorway with a towel over his arm, like some kind of maître d’. He waves grandly toward Steve, beckoning him toward the house. 

Steve snorts with laughter as he climbs out of the BMW. “What are you doing?” 

"This way sir," Eddie replies in a terrible attempt at a posh English accent. Steve shakes his head, thoroughly bewildered and increasingly amused. 

He walks past Eddie through the doorway and freezes in surprise.

The living room has been transformed. Eddie set up the gaming table in the middle of the room – set with a crisp white tablecloth, the Munson’s best dishes, and a vase full of red roses sitting in the center of the table, flanked by two candles. More candles twinkle softly from the coffee table, the end tables - even on top of the tv. 

"Eddie..." Steve whispers in awe. "What is this?" 

"Well, ah... I kind of jumped the gun a little. It’s supposed to be a candlelight dinner. If we'd gone to the movie, Wayne would have had time to get all the food set up. But it won’t take long, I already cooked everything. Just gotta heat it up."

Steve’s vision goes watery, smearing the candlelight into one big blur as tears fill his eyes. He blinks hard to clear them. “I thought you hated all this stuff.”

Eddie shrugs and rubs the back of his neck nervously. “Well, yeah I do. But you love it. So I wanted to surprise you.”

Steve grips his boyfriend by the front of his ridiculous t-shirt and pulls him into a bone-cracking hug, before pulling back just far enough to kiss the breath from him. 

In a pause between kisses, Steve rests his forehead against Eddie’s and laughs a little breathlessly. “What made you change your mind about the movie?”

Eddie bites his lips, already swollen from kisses. Steve can’t tear his eyes away.

“I don’t know. When I saw all that stuff you collected for me…” he clears his throat, staring at Steve with wide dark eyes. “I’m… I know I’m weird. I’ve known that my whole life. I never thought I would find anyone that would tolerate me, let alone… celebrate me like that.”

He kisses Steve again, sweet and soft. “I couldn’t sit and wait for two hours after that. I had to get you home and show you how much I love you.”

“I love you too.” Steve smiles against Eddie’s mouth. “You know… I’m not really hungry yet.”

“Oh yeah?”

Steve trails his hands down Eddie’s chest, hooking his fingers into the belt loops of his jeans and tugging. “Mm-hmm. I think we need to work up an appetite first.”

Eddie laughs in delight. “Sounds like a good idea. You know how much I like dessert before dinner.”

A happy Valentine’s Day indeed.

[d34dlysinner]

An old trophy and a lost treasure

I wanted to write some angst. Made a poll and Bimet had the highest score on the poll. So here’s the ‘angst’.  Remember this post is made BEFORE the game release and thus can’t be seen as canon. It was made to feed my mind and other minds before the game’s release.  TW: violence No one knew how you did it, neither did you. Somehow you managed to capture Bimet’s heart without money being involved. In fact, you weren’t even rich enough for his standards. He would normally glare harshly at anyone that he deemed poor, which was a lot of people. So it was no surprise that everyone was shocked once Bimet asked for a more serious relationship. One where you both would actually put each other first. Not like the previous one where he only talked to you when he needed something, contract-wise. You don’t know why you accepted his request or confession, but a part of you wanted to know him way better than anyone else does. The start of the relationship was awkward. Both of you would talk to each other or hang out with each other as if it were some business meeting. He would talk your ear off about how you could use tricks to make more money and how to see if a product would catch certain audiences. If you learned something by then, it was how to handle things in Hell’s market, but apart from that you didn’t know anything about Bimet. You know that he loves money and how he handles things, but nothing about his favorite food. Or what he does when he isn’t doing money-related stuff. You knew nothing about pets or anything else about him. The business meetings which were masked as ‘dates’ increased to the point that you had to speak up and tell him that you’d rather want to know other things about him. He wasn’t pleased with hearing this, but he did understand that he can’t act as if you were his business partner. He started to do what you asked for, a relationship that went deeper than being business buddies. He would plan out expensive dates which he pays himself, because he knows that you can’t purchase anything that suits his tastes. These dates would range from an expensive dinner to a vacation to some spa resort. He would also amuse you by joining you on the smaller dates you planned yourself. He really didn’t see the appeal in joining you on some ice cream or picnic dates, but he did like to see you happy and comfortable. After some time you felt comfortable enough to stay at his place, though it took a while longer for Bimet to feel comfortable at your place which he described as a “claustrophobic shed”. You were patient with him and allowed him to open up at his pace. Eventually he was comfortable enough to even spend an entire week at your place. You were proud to see him feel comfortable at your place and you were proud to see that he was comfortable with you. He would also sometimes flaunt how you were at his side. The human that came to Hell to help the demons was his and his alone. You felt treasured by him. You felt more loved since you arrived in Hell. It was really funny to you how both you and Bimet started from a relationship that was purely transactional. It now blossomed into one where you trusted each other and where you could depend on each other. You both helped each other out. He was your knight that would save you from the dangers of both Hell and Heaven, while sometimes judging you. You were the more affectionate person in the relationship that made him feel at ease and showed him how being “cheap” is good once in a while. Everything was fine. Until he lost something he deemed more precious than you. That precious thing he lost, that piece of metal that he worshiped for centuries stood above you. It felt embarrassing to know that he would choose some material over an actual living being. You knew that he could be materialistic and you knew that it was something he cherished from the start. You weren’t angry, but you always felt this ‘pang of sadness’ in your chest whenever you see him being so focused and careful with the material. The memories he revisits whenever he has it near him and the look on his face when trying to remember those moments would often make you feel invisible. It was as if the material knew Bimet better than you ever could. And you accepted this thought. You were human after all. You didn’t see him from the very start. It took centuries for you to come into existence and it took another few years to meet him. You couldn’t blame him for cherishing something this deeply. One evening you decided that you needed some fresh air. You told Bimet that you will walk on the main street. The main streets were safer after all. The human world is dangerous and Hell is way more dangerous than earth. He only allows you to walk alone on the main streets. Whenever you want to explore he needed to be there with you. He is strong enough to fight for both of you if danger were to arise. On your walk, you didn’t notice some figure following you leading to you being dragged into an alley where you were robbed, you tried calling Bimet once, only for it to go to voice mail. That’s when you received a punch from the demon that was robbing you. A punch from a human may hurt a lot, but one from an entity that’s stronger than a human was like getting hit by a truck. Your head was struck and you started seeing double. Because of your will to live you tried to run out of the alleyway, but you passed out before you could reach anyone that could help. Bimet was still at his home. He wanted to go and look at his cherished trophy again before waiting for your return, but it wasn’t at its usual spot. Did he misplace it? Did he take it with him?... No, that can’t be. He would know. His mind raced and that’s when he remembers you. Angry he took out his phone and he noticed the one miscall. He decided to call you. Wanting to know where you dared to move his treasure to, but it went to voice mail. He called again and again while turning the house upside down. His anger getting worse by the second. That’s when he got a call from a maid. Telling him that they moved his possession to his safe room since they were doing some maintenance in its previous room. He fired the maid before storming out of the safe room. He entered the room and there it was. His treasure, his cherished trophy. He yet again thought about his past and the good and bad memories. After a while, he left his possession in the safe room. He remembered your miscall and saw that you haven’t replied to his calls yet. “Weird”, he thought as he waited for a call from you. That’s when he saw that Morax was calling him. “A noble that wants to do some business again?���, he thought as he picked up the call. He awaited what Morax had to say as his eyes widened at the news. They found you in an alleyway… Unresponsive? How? Why were you somewhere you weren’t allowed to be in? He didn’t waste any time as he rushed out the doors and towards your location. And there he saw you. In a bed, bandaged and sleeping. He was grateful that you were breathing, but seeing you in this state made him rethink his choices from a few moments ago. He started to feel regretful that he didn’t hear your call. He started feeling bad that he was blaming you for moving his treasure. He waited there for you to awaken. He didn’t care if it took hours, days, or weeks. He’ll wait for you. And that’s what he did. Sitting by your side. Making small conversations that he knew you couldn’t respond to. He did that all while waiting for you to awaken. When you woke up from the deep slumber you were hugged by him. The embrace felt warm and familiar, but you couldn’t remember this man hugging you. You softly pushed him away, resulting in you getting a confused look from him. You opened your mouth and the first words you muttered after your slumber was “… Sorry, but… Who are you?” Bimet gave you a hurtful look as he realized that you forgot him. He didn’t know what to say. What he did know was that this time, it was him that would wait for you to get comfortable. And he knew that this time he actually lost something that he should’ve treasured more from the start. He lost you.

[antis0cial23]

The Pride of the Navy

Chapter 6: Familial Ties

Summary: going home has its ups… and its downs

Warnings: Mentions of deteriorating health, swearing

Maverick sat at the bar, cool beer in hand. Some aviators chittered around him, back by the pool table, some by the dart boards Penny kept having to replace, and some just scattered throughout. His phone was cool in his hands, not being used and most certainly not on Penny’s bar top, never in a million years would he forget about that, nor would his savings recover.

“Long day, pilot?” Penny asked, already knowing what happened during todays class. Maverick gave her a tired look, all telling. “Word travels fast in the Navy, Mav.” She offered him a smile, then got back to tending to her patrons at the bar. Maverick’s phone buzzed, the screen lighting his palm. After a sigh and some contemplation, he looked at the glowing screen. Lo and behold, it was none other than Admiral Kazansky, or outside of work, Ice.

‘I need to see you.’ Of course he did. After the burnout today during training, what higher up wouldn’t want to see him.

‘Not a good time.’ Because of-fucking-course it wasn’t. All Maverick, in his self-proclaimed old-age-but-let’s-not-act-like-it, wanted to do was go home and sleep like the old man he kept getting told he was.

‘I wasn’t asking.’ One thing Maverick had learned in his lifetime, is that Tom ‘Iceman’ Kazansky was absolute shit at asking people nicely. Maybe that’s why he had climbed the ranks of the Navy as quickly as he did, but boy did it get beyond annoying. Maverick wanted to slam his head on the bar top, but he had a feeling if he did so it would be against one of Penny’s not explicitly written rules, and he did not want to risk spending his savings on Navy-men’s beer. Again. So, it looked like he would have to make the nearly three hour drive to Ice’s abode. His phone dinged again, so he looked at it with a sigh full of annoyance, but it wasn’t Admiral Kazansky, it was Quinlan.

‘Srry 2 bother, u heard anythn frm Roo’ The way kids typed always confused Maverick, full words were not that difficult.

‘Im driving, don judge me, I can feel the old mn judgmnt frm hre’ Adding to his annoyance, Quinn was texting while driving. ‘Oh joy, how did one of the pilots under your supervision die? Not mission related? Crazy.’ Maverick could already see the headline. To keep her off her phone, Mav decided to call.

“Sup, Mav.” Quin tried to sound less tired than she felt, not wanting her mentor to know the real strain the training was having on everyone, or more so not wanting him to ask her about it.

“Cas, don’t text and drive.” Mav sighed, “So you think calling me, when I drive a 1972 Impala, is any better?” The sarcasm her voice held was immense.

“Just keep your eyes on the road.” Maverick put his hand on his head, slightly massaging his temples. These kids were going to be the death of him. “Why do you think Bradley would talk to me, Casper.” By now, Maverick had made his way to the back deck of the bar, everything less loud, also leaving money on the bar for Penny.

“Long-shot guess to see if he’s contacted anyone… Mav he isn’t home and isn’t returning anyone’s calls.” She had a worried edge to her voice, which Mav completely understood because he had felt just like she sounded.

“So you text me, because you are worried?” He honestly felt a little bit of joy, knowing at least one of the aviators he taught didn’t hate him in totality after today.

“Shut up.” Quinlan grumbled, barely audible over the noise from her driving and from the bar behind Maverick.

“If I hear anything, I’ll let you know, kid. Where are you even driving to at…” He looked at the time, his phone displaying 9:47 shining in pale bolded numbers. “Jesus, at nine forty at night.”

“Headed home to see some family…” Quin was never very forthcoming with personal information, but this was indeed a start. At least to Maverick it was. “Thanks for the day off, Mav.” And with that, Quin hung up and continued her drive.

 She was about two and a half hours in, about thirty minutes to go, and Quinlan couldn’t be more ready to get out of her car. The rumbling of the old engine was making her hands numb, all her muscles already sore and tense from training. The drive to Santa Monica was one she had only ever made with Emmelyn. Although Quin and Emmelyn didn’t share the same dad, Quin’s always treated Emmelyn as his, well, that being after he found out about Quin. A DNA test right before entering the Navy found Quinlan’s still very alive dad, contrary to what her mother had told her.

“Did ya get the results yet?” Emmelyn called through the kitchen. Quin, not knowing much about her lineage, or anything about her father for that matter, had decided to complete a DNA test that included health risks along with the family tree. Every time she had brought it up to her mom, she got told no, but now she was eighteen and had her own money from working at the local supply store.

“Just came in the mail, Em. Where’s momma?” Quinlan did buy the kit with her mother’s knowledge, but she still felt guilty opening her results if she were home.

“She’s out at the Cody’s. Think Diane invited her.” Quin nodded, if her mom was at Diane’s house, she’d most certainly be gone for a while. Oh, how mothers could talk.

Quinlan peeled open the envelope, Emmelyn over her shoulder the whole time. First on the paper was the list of genetically predisposed illnesses and her likelihood of getting them. Mostly everything Quin was low risk for, thankfully. Further down was her mothers relatives, which she slightly knew, at least by name, each having a ‘living’ or ‘deceased’ label next to them. And on the back? Her father. Looking down the list from double great grandparents and down, apparently her grandfather was alive. Quinlan paused, eyes hovering over the name of her father. She had known his first name, one night when her mom had a little too much Rye Whiskey and slipped up, but never his last. Next to his name was the label ‘Living’.

“Wait, didn’t momma say Daddy died?” Quin took a minute to respond, Emmelyn still hovering as closely as ever, unsure of the true weight of her statement. “Yeah, she did.” Quin read the name at least five times. Well this was going to be a fun conversation.

And that was the first time Quinlan learned her father was actually living and breathing. The following conversation with her mother, while her mother was unfortunately a bit tipsy on whiskey, went just as well as one would’ve hoped, full of tears and misspoken words. That fight, words never being able to be taken back, is was led Quin to reach out to her dad. Maybe he didn’t know about her beforehand and was slow to warm up, but Quin was beyond glad she had found him.

“Uh… Hi. My name is, uh, is Quinlan Emai. I received some results from a DNA test, and it uh, it told me you’re my dad? Shit, this is so weird. Jesus this could have been an email, I’m one of those people. Um, I don’t really know what the fuck else to say, soo… Call me back when you get a chance? Maybe? Jesus- sorry” After that voicemail to one Navy man, Quin honestly thought about throwing herself off a bridge. This guy was stationed in Cali, Quin living in a small Texan town near the coast. She was hoping, at the least, the man would not return her call. But alas, a few days later, a call from an unknown number.

“Hello?” Quinn held her phone, expecting whoever called to be spam.

“Hi, this is Tom Kazansky…” Quinlan froze at the name, “You, uh, you called about a week ago?” “Oh, shit. Uh, hi?” Quin responded after a moment of phone static. Both sat in silence for a few moments, neither knowing what to say.

“Fuck, sorry. You’re probably wondering who my mom is. She’s uh, her name is Cecilla Emai. We’re, um, We’re in Texas.” Another few moments of silence followed, Quin could hear the gears in his head turning.

“Oh, beginning of ‘86?” Quin assumed that was when they met. “Well, would make sense. Was born October 1986.” Quinlan honestly didn’t want to talk about her conception date.

“I… wow. Sorry, I uh didn’t expect to have a kid.” Quin chuckled,

 “Yeah, and I didn’t expect to have an alive dad. Momma always said you were dead.” A small noise of surprise escaped Tom.

“She told you I was dead?” the surprise was as clear as day.

 “yeah, said you died so I shouldn’t go lookin’. Guess she was ashamed to have a kid without a dad so she told everyone he was dead.”

“She never even tried to tell me, if she told me…” Tom trailed off, “You’re in the Navy, and I don’t think there is anything that would get momma to leave.” Quinlan did truly wonder what life would be like if her dad was around.

“I at least would’ve given her money… How is she?” Quin gave a disappointed laugh, “usually drunk or not at home. Two kids take a toll, especially when the father of the second is a known felon.” At that, Tom Kazansky was officially speechless.

“Hey, I guess wanting to be a pilot runs in the blood. I just got my naval academy acceptance letter…” Quin trailed off, not knowing why she was telling a man she just honestly met.

“What’re you going in for?” A new form of excitement filled his tone.

“Pilot. Air Force wouldn’t accept the condition of me being my sister’s caretaker.” They proceeded to talk for at least thirty minutes about Tom’s declassified missions and tips from him.

“Who’re you runnin’ up that phone bill with, Q.” Cecilla asked, more of a way as telling her to get off the phone.

“Take a wild, guess momma.” Quin’s voice was edging towards sharp, her mom narrowing her eyes. “Who is it?” Cecilla’s tone matched Quinlan’s.

“My dad. Would you like to say hi? Since, ya know, he isn’t dead.” Quin still held fire from their earlier argument, Tom sat on the other line awkward and unsure of what to do.

“Quinlan Daliah Emai, get off the damn phone right now.” Cecilla’s tone was final, but Quin always had a rebuttal. Afterall, she was the daughter of a stubborn Texan and The famous Iceman.

“You haven’t paid the phone bill since you spent all the cash you got, which wasn’t hardly any, on liquor. Can’t tell me to end a phone call when I pay the price.” Quin sounded nonchalant, her voice matter of fact. Her mother only stared, Tom Kazansky awkwardly trying to find an out from the call.

“If you don’t hang up that damn phone, I will find a way to pull your application.” Cecilla’s voice held the same calmness, which Tom could only guess was terrifying in person.

“If you weren’t so drunk off your ass, Ma, you would know I’ve already been accepted. Now if you’d excuse me, I have a previously absentee father to get to know.” Quinlan shut the pocket door to the kitchen, done with the soon to be argument with her mother.

“I… is that, is that normal?” Tom’s voice sounded incredibly unsure, unaware if that was even appropriate to ask.

“The truth? Yeah. As song as Em isn’t home.” Quinlan did everything in her power to not fight in front of her little sister, even if her mother provoked the living hell out of her.

“I assume Em is your sister?” Tom questioned lightly, gently.

“Yeah, her name is Emmelyn Rose Emai. Momma has a thing for flower middle names. She is eight. Thinks we have the same Dad.” Quin’s tone edged towards sadness at the last statement, wishing Em was her full-blood sister, but she still treated the kid with every intent that she was.

“Well… I would say I’m slightly better than a convicted felon.” Tom huffed a laugh, and so did Quin, “Honestly, I’d love to get to know you more, and Emmelyn for the matter, she’s young enough to still have a childhood with a Dad.” To say the least, Quin was shocked. She expected him to either say nothing, or say hello and move on, but she certainly wasn’t ready for this.

“Shit, you’re serious?” She was dumbfounded.

“I mean if you are open to that. In my family, we take kin very seriously. I’ve missed eighteen years, why should I miss any more?” Tom sounded very sure, which calmed Quin’s mind a little bit.

“Quinlan Emai, I’ve given you five minutes, now get off the damn phone and go get your sister.” Cecilla’s voice yelled through the shut door, muffled and barely recognizable over the phone.

“Fuck, uh sorry, I have to go get Em, mom’s had too much to drive. Bye!” Quin quickly hung up, ending her first ever conversation with her very much alive father.

            As far as first meetings go, Quin’s very much could’ve gone better. But, it led to having a relationship with her Dad, and Emmelyn having one too. That phone call turned into summer visits, and a place to stay for them both once their mother passed two years later. Quin pulled up to the personal housing of Admiral Tom “Iceman” Kazansky, the place she called home even despite her rural accent. She turned off the trembling engine, hands finally free of the incessant buzzing sensation. Quin decided to park around the back of the house, opting to surprise her siblings in the morning, having seen their cars in the driveway. Quin got out of her car, grabbing her back up travel bag from her trunk as quietly as possible.

            She walked up to the back door, unlocking it with her spare key she kept on her keychain escribed with her callsign. A gift from Rooster, no less. She had texted Ice previous to her arrival, not wanting to scare him by showing up at random. The light shown through the door of his office, surprising Quin that he was still awake. At 61, being awake after 9:30 was definitely a large feat. She padded lightly to the office, knocking on the door lightly before stepping in.

            “Hey, Dad.” He turned his head at her voice, meeting her soft, but nonetheless tired, smile. He returned it with his own, although not quite reaching his eyes like it did just a few years before. Ice was bad about voicing his problems, something Quin learned was hereditary and compounded from his years in the Navy. They stared at each other for a few minutes, then she realized he wasn’t speaking, the white cursor on his monitor blinking as the black screen remained bare.

            “Fuck.” Quin’s whispered curse was the only sound in the air. Ice turned to type and with her increasingly watery eyes, quin watched the screen.

            ‘I’m fine, you have other things to worry about.’ The white words stared back like little knives picking her tear ducts.

            “You say that as you are, quite literally, my dad.” Quin huffed a laugh, although pained by the fact of his health.

            ‘Come sit.’ Quin pulled up a chair, facing him as he cleared his screen.

            ‘How’s Bradley.’ Quin just looked down at her clasped hands, shaking her head.

            “Haven’t heard from him since before I left. Didn’t even see him after Seresin outed his death wish.” Quin looked up from her hands, Ice looking at her expectantly. He knew the hurt and the issues they had faced, firsthand for that matter, but he also knew she miraculously still cared.

            ‘Just talk to him.’ Ice kept the same stare. “Really Dad, how am I supposed to talk to someone who doesn’t acknowledge my existence?” Her face was tired, not wanting to have that conversation at the current moment in time. Ice didn’t type anything new, nor did he delete his previous words. A low cough left his being, hurting Quin to hear.

            “Go to bed, kid.” His voice was gravel-filled and quiet, displaying his pain. Quin looked at him for a few more moments before standing up and leaving his office, but not before throwing in a small ‘goodnight’. As she made her way up to her bedroom, quietly passing her siblings rooms, she couldn’t wait to lay down and knock out. The days problems would just have to wait till tomorrow.

———————————————————

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@aki-ham

@florencediet

[jjsstars]

tw rarepair week 23: day 3, soulmates au cora/scott/lydia

|| for @teenwolfrarepairevents event

|| this is in the same au as this post with bartender!lydia & mechanic!scott

|| tags: soulmates au, bartender!lydia, mechanic!scott, set after canon

Cora takes a second to steady herself once she steps out of the old rusted truck she bought with the little money she saved up, refusing to spend any of Derek’s or Peters. They don’t know she’s coming back to Beacon Hills, nobody does, not that she keeps in touch with anyone but her family but still. She’ll be surprising everyone.

The gas station/mechanic shop/bar she stops at makes her cringe, it’s run down and dusty from the sand under her feet, the sign for the mechanic shop is turned off in the late hour but the bar is still open. Technically all Cora needed was gas but she’s half an hour away from Beacon Hills and unsure if she’s really ready to show up on her brothers door step, she decides getting a drink from the bar will ease her.

Stepping into the bar is announced by a loud squeak of the doors, which catches the attention of the two people inside. The bartender is hard to see behind the guy who’s sat on a bar stool with an empty glass in front of him, they’ve both stopped talking, not turning towards Cora but probably listening to every move she makes. She steps to the bar and slides herself onto a stool despite it, it’s too late in the night to care about strangers judging her.

“What can I get for you—?” The bartenders voice dies with an abrupt suck in of air, Cora’s head lifts to look up and- Lydia Martin?- shit.

“Uh- sorry, uh, what can I get for you?” Lydia throws on a quick smile and tries to act like she doesn’t know who’s sitting in front of her, part of Cora appreciates it, she probably knows Cora’s not supposed to be here.

“Just a soda.” She croaks out before Lydia’s turning on her heels to grab a cup that she quickly fills with sprite, it’s what Cora would’ve ordered but she doesn’t know why or how Lydia would know that.

“Here you go, uh- I- I think Scott recognizes you.” Lydia’s head nods towards the other side of the bar, and sure enough Scott McCall is sitting there, mouth dropped open and eyes wide like he just saw a ghost. Cora could laugh at how he still resembles a puppy dog if she wasn’t halfway mortified that he’s about to call Derek.

“Hi there.” She says with a small quirked brow when Scott’s mouth slams shut and he starts to fumble with the mechanic uniform jacket he has on. Cora glances back to Lydia, she shrugs to say she has no idea what he’s doing either, and just as Cora goes to ask, Scott’s suddenly shoving himself into the seat beside her.

“You’re you- or- I knew that but- but it’s you, both of you.” He rambles and Hale has the sudden realization of what the hell he’s talking about. What they said, what Scott just said, it’s scrawled across her ribs right below what Lydia said. It’s them.

“Look, look.” Her eyes land on Scott’s ribs where he lifts the grease covered tank top he has on, sure enough, it all matches. The same spot and same words.

“Fuck me.” Lydia says in a half laugh as she holds her own shirt up. They all match, the three of them, Cora doesn’t even need to check, she just knows. She’s memorized those words since they appeared on her fifth birthday, she always dreamed about meeting her soulmates. The idea of have two only making her want to meet them more, made her long deeper.

“Wait but I’ve met you two before.” It obviously doesn’t matter but she still has to say it.

“But we’ve never been in the same place all at once.” Scott says with an affirming nod from Lydia that yes, he’s right, Cora smiles with it. She knows Lydia’s a genius of some sort and Scott looking to her makes her heart warm.

“What’re you even doing here?” Shit, she has to say it.

“Uh- I’m going to Derek’s, I left where I was and have kinda been aimlessly driving around. Ended up here.” Maybe it was the universe pulling her towards her soulmates, fate of some type. Maybe it’s not the fucked up early twenties breakdown she thought it was.

“You should come home with us.” Scott jumps to say, that half cracked grin on his face that Cora’s only see in the pictures Derek’s shared with her. There was too much chaos and life or death going on for her to see it in person, till now, it’s definitely better in person.

“You two live together?” They nod.

“We started working here together back when Scott was first bit, now we have an apartment together, it’s in the same building as Derek’s loft.” The redhead summarizes as she pours a drink, presumably for herself since neither Scott or Cora can get drunk.

“Are you dating?” Another nod.

“We figured we’d break up when we finally met our soulmates but it’s you so we don’t have to. And- and we don’t have to start dating right away, there’s a second bedroom in the apartment and it’s there rent free if you want it.” Scott smells of nerves and a small bit of hope, Cora hesitates just a moment but leans to kiss his cheek. His skin warms her lips, she can feel how he smiles with the action and it brings a sense of comfort to her.

“You are very cute. And yes, I will come stay with you guys. The longer I avoid Derek and Peter the better.” She huffs once she pulls back, ignoring that Lydia’s typing away on her phone and might’ve just taken a picture of them.

“Well let’s go, we were supposed to close an hour ago anyways. And we can talk more on the ride home.” Lydia finishes her glass off before flipping the switch to turn off the neon sign that sits above the bar. She takes both Cora and Scott’s hand as they walk out, Cora happily lets her and lets Scott pile them all into Cora’s truck while saying they’ll be back here tomorrow to work anyways so leaving Scott’s car isn’t a big deal.

[forkaround]

i don’t know if you would have an answer but do you have any clue why only friends seems to have so little budget but dangerous romance seems to have a lot? with 2 huge pairs that have a lot of fans and make a lot of money for gmmtv and 2 other actors (mark and neo) that ppl love + a respected director i’m surprised it doesn’t have a lot of budget compared to dangerous romance that’s introducing a new pair (yes they were in nlmg but it’s still their first time leading a show together) and is a high school bl (even though the plot seems intense). then again i’m not sure who exactly worked on dangerous romance and if the budget has anything to do with that.

Hey anon! sorry for the late reply but I wanted to see more of Dangerous Romance before saying anything.

So the Director of DR is Lit Phadung Samajarn who is also the director and screenwriter for a lot of other BLs. Love in Translation, Love Mechanics, My Engineer and SOTUS. [There is a theme of enemies to lovers here.]

And the Screenwriters are Pratchaya Thavornthummarut and Bee Pongsate Lucksameepong. They are both BIG names in the BL world and specifically in GMMTV. Some of GMMTV's biggest shows were written by them. Bee also co-wrote Kinnporsche and Bad Buddy. For Pratchaya I can see literally every famous GMMTV work in his resume.

Also Perth has been around in the BL world for a long time.

P'Aof is the producer.

So the Behind the Scenes talent is huge in this show.

The Only Friends team is very strong as well. I just wanted to mention the DR team by name.

Now for the most part I can only speculate and it all seems to come down to Product Placement. DR has it. OF doesn't. Why? I don't know. It could be executives didn't want to have their product in OF or they didn't trust the show would get people to buy their product because it would attract that type of audience or it won't be able to convince the viewer, which I do find absurd tbh. Another theory could be the creators didn't want it. It could be GMMTV didn't want it. It could be they blew through the budget on the 90s music Ray likes and such things but it could also be the artist was/is a GMMTV artist. But at the end of the day, unless someone comes out with what the reason is, I doubt we will find out. It's all about money and who can convince people to spend the most and that's not a bad thing. Money is important, it's how we live. In a perfect would it would be different but it's not a perfect world.

I won't go off of actors to judge the budget of a show since actors seem to be the cheapest item. That sounded bad but I don't mean it like that. Renting places, the equipment, marketing and many other things take much more budget than the actors. Unless they are like RDJ or SRK level, at which point you can and should judge the budget of a product from it's stars. I think the only Thai equivalent I know is MileApo. But even that doesn't feel right. Like they don't compare to the stardom of RDJ or SRK.

[quietpeaceablelife]

23 August 2022

My response to a beautiful Filipina woman who was riddled with self hatred and insecurity:

Hi my dear. It hurts me that you hate our race but I understand how you feel as a fellow Filipina.

Think about it like this… the more time we spend caring about what others think, they will become idols that bring us far from God and then there is less time we have to honour God, spread His gospel, serve others.

Our bodies can perish at any given moment! But what we do in our lives will be remembered and judged!

Inner beauty, the beauty of kindness, helping and serving others cannot be traded by outer appearance. God looks at our hearts. God is all that matters.

Being loved by someone so perfect is already so flattering that the approval of men don’t stand a chance to God’s divine validation because He is the Almighty Creator, (He literally made this world and you) who loves you no matter what grades or degree you got, no matter how you look, no matter how much money you have, He doesn’t care about those mundane things!!!

People will abandon you and forsake you but by God’s promise if you believe in Jesus, if you love Him and you trust in Him only, He will never leave you nor forsake you and That’s every reason to put Him first. Why put people who will measure and value your worth based on your looks, grades and what you can bring to the world when you can have God who loves you no matter what???

Nothing else compares!! Nothing else matters!!!

This why the First commandment for a reason.

People will see how beautiful you are through your true works and fruits; how kind you are, how strong you are, how brave you are, how wise you are, how generous you are, and man, how it feels so nice to be around someone who is like that!

When I encounter a nice person, my heart feels so at peace and I can’t forget them.

Too much worrying about ‘self’, will lead you to destruction. I love you. ❤️God loves you and He never did a bad job with you. Filipinos and all races are equally beautiful, it’s the enemy that has brainwashed us to believe we are ugly or uglier than others and he has alot of fun watching us compare ourselves with others, wasting our time. The devil is a scammer!

God made you so that you may glorify Him.

Once you realise this and embrace your beauty, you will shine bright and you will thank Him one day. 💖✨

If I have one advice to give you, it would be watch Desiring God - How to stop obsession over appearance, and avoid all mirrors. Don’t waste your precious time on worrying about ‘self’ and become self ‘less’. God will shine through you. Pleasing God will become your new strength and life source. You won’t want to stop! And when you please God, it’ll feel like your on top of the world.

Imagine being worthy of praise from the Almighty and ever living God. We are already so so so blessed to be worthy of life, sacrifice and attention given by Him. Can you imagine that???❤️❤️❤️✝️

Lastly, try to see others through the Spirit.

We are all spirits, bound by flesh.

This one’s a bit hard but, try not to view others by the flesh/outer appearance but by their spirit! ☺️

[ventingbeec]

State of minds and the way your body feels

So i recently realised how feelings influence so much the way you see the world around you.

Idk how to elaborate it but i want to tell an experience i had.

So when i was younger for some reason i was afraid or idk to shop. Exactly, i was anxious about shopping in supermarkets. I don’t really know why?

Maybe because i thought people are staring at me and judging me, or maybe because i was low on money?!

So i found a picture where my friend showed me she bought a cup of noodles, and i remember i really wanted to try but for some reason i never searched for it, and even the few times i went with my mom at shopping and found something i wanted i would just leave it.

So now thinking about it it sounds so pathetic but back then it was such a blockage for me to do the most basic things.

Right now i can spend hours in supermarkets, its the lamest thing ever, so why did i put that experience on a pedestal??

Another thing i used to put on pedestal when i was younger was a white pencil. I really really wanted a white pencil and i thought it was such an amazing thing, and when i bought my first one i was so happy, but then i coul afford to buy more so got a lot feon different brands to test them out and even now i have them, maybe for like 8 years?? They are around the house but i don’t care about them, they are lame, but i used to think omg such an amazing thing.

So my conclusion is that we tend to put such insignificant things on pedestal and think we can’t approach them when in real life they are lame af. But still i don’t have any wise advice to give tbh. I still want insignificant things, and i still think im not worthy having them when in reality they are probably very approachable, how to stop this?

So for example, i really want to be tall, like 5’7, can i really do this? probably? do i know how to? maybe idk? is there anything that’s stopping me? most certainly.

So because this is my vent blog anyways, i will talk nonsense.

1. I want to be tall because i want to or because others judge me cus im short?

I will enumerate some moments people judged my height.

1. My mom

so my mom always tells me i would be more beautiful if i was taller

when i was younger she would tell me to work out to grow taller

she pushed me to do a lot of things to grow taller

she always judge other short women calling them names so maybe i feel she thinks the same about me

do i want to be tall just to make my mom happy? i want this for her? i want to look a certain way so that she would stop judging me just for existing?? why does she wants this? shy can’t she love me just for who i am, if i was even more shorter shat would she think about me??

omg i feel like im about to throw tf up right now

i never realised i feel like this

how can i stop this?

am i worth it? probably, but how do i stop hating myself and caring what others think about me

i feel maybe they would never like me even if i was 7’1 so then what’s wrong with me? do i want to grow just to ignore them after and prove something? but i don’t heve to prove anything to anyone, am i right?

the only person i should care about it’s me

so is height really that important?

but i don’t know how to care about myself anymore?? what do i do?? skincare??

i’m so confused

i really want to fit in the society beauty standard so bad, i want people to accept me amd love and admire me

but why??? why do i care so much??

if i would have loved myself then would i care anymore about what others think?? idk how to live myself

i don’t think i have to do anything to love myself, i should do it just because i exist, but why do i feel so weird then

why do i want to prove something when i shouldn’t

2. my dad

i feel like i care about his male gaze

not in a weird way, but in a “i think my child it’s ugly way”

idk if you know that movie when a girl turns into a pig, like, her nose is pig like

and at some point her dad told her mom that

“we have to admit, we have an ugly daughter “

that line, that scene, why is that in my mind? why did it stuck from the moment hear it??!

it passed more than a decade but that line is my roman empire

why do i care about this so much

now that i write this, i never realised how much i cared about my parents opinion about my outside appearance but i do

i do a lot until it eats me alive

one time i was sitting at the dinner table and so my dad stared at me and then smirked

so my mom asked him why

and he giggled and said “look how much X looks like her grandfather”

my grandfather who is first of all a man, second of all a big, crooked, septum deviated, nosed man

i remember that moment so vividly, i wanted to disappear in that moment so nobody could ever see my face ever again

never

i don’t hate the way my grandfather looks, but i am aware of how he’s seen by the society

and i am aware that remark wasn’t something nice but something to point out ugly features

one time when was really into selfcare

and i really wanted to drink a gallon of water a day for health and also clear skin

my father overheard my discussion and he intervened saying that “where could that much water go through your body? for you maybe one cup of water a day”

and for me, that didn’t seem funny

that shattered me, i hate it, i hate so much being perceived

i hate so much being made fun of

i don’t want to look the way i look anymore

i hate me, i hate the way i look

why am i like this, why am i so weak? so skinny?? and some of you will sat it’s something good but it’s not, as a grown up woman i look like a little boy, i feel less of a woman

i feel im not worthy, i feel like i deserve absolutely nothing and i don’t understand why was i born and why am i still alive to suffer

i do i care a lot about shat people say about me

because in our society it matters a lot how people perceive you

i wish i didnt care but i do

i wish i was different but im not

i wish i could look like the beauty standards

i wish i could make my parents happy

i wish i could prove something

i wish i was loved and appreciated

i wish i wouldn’t have to hate myself so much

i wish i could just live in silence and be happy and eat and wash my body and sleep and play and do things i like and love myself

i wish i could just love the way i looked

everything about me

even my big crooked nose

i wish i could truly love it but it bought me so much pain

so much pain

for just existing and not bothering anyone it attracted so much pain

why do i have to look a certain way to not be bullied???!!!

why do we all have to look the same

after some pattern

i think i should stop caring about others

even my mom or dad but it’s kind of hard

[wordsmithwhumpsandfluff]

Hi!!. I just read your last, like, three fics and can I just say that Oliver is such a sweetheart🥺!!!!!!

Anyway, this isn't a fic request really. I was just wondering if you could maybe write backstories for your characters? I'm lowkey curious to know what some of your OCs lives were like tbh👀.

I’m glad you like Oliver!! It seems like he and Isaac are my 2 most liked OCs. Anyway, ask and you shall receive!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Isaac: He has a younger sister and a much older brother, both of whom he loves. They all lived with their grandma because their parents went missing while on a business trip, and no one knows where they went. Isaac’s sister was 2, he was 12, and his brother was already 16. Their grandma was possibly the coolest woman alive, and she loved and spoiled them. Isaac had struggled with the loss of his parents, but his brother suffered worse than him, and Isaac tried his best to comfort him. That’s how Isaac realized he enjoyed helping people feel better, and that’s why he wants to be a therapist.

Oliver: His childhood wasn’t that bad. His parents loved him and supported him when he came out, and he did struggle with people being homophobic towards him from time to time but his friends (*ahem* Isaac *cough cough*) were always there to stick up for him. But Oliver was also an overachiever, and would often spend hours obsessing over and worrying about school. But other than that, his life growing up was pretty great.

Jordan: Her and her brother came from a rich family that owned and partnered with a handful of successful tech companies in both America and Japan. Because their parents were both from Japan, they visited family there often but mainly lived in the states. Jordan loved her fancy lifestyle, and because she wore fancy clothes and owned expensive things, people judged her and called her a snob, but when she met Birdie and Spirit she finally had people who saw the real her. (Jordan and Keiko don’t really have bad backstories.)

Keiko: (I repeat: basically no trauma.) Even though he’s Jordan’s brother, he didn’t have the same rich tastes that she had. He wanted a simpler life, which is why instead of accepting an allowance or asking for money, he worked jobs and applied for a lot of scholarships in order to get to college and get his own apartment. His parents offered to get nice apartments for him and Jordan, but when though Jordan accepted hers, Keiko instead stuck to buying his own.

Spirit: She wasn’t always the “heavy-metal-badass” she is now. When she was a little girl, she was basically a girly tomboy whose dad would take her fishing, play her music on the guitar, and take care of her since her mom was always working. But he was also a marine and had to go to war for a few months. He died in war on Spirit’s sixth birthday, and Spirit’s mom didn’t even stop working or come home to take care of her. There was no extended family to take care of Spirit, but her mom was home for a couple of days every week (or even every other week) and was well off financially, so CPS never really got involved. Spirit would sometimes go hungry and got her own job at a young age to buy stuff like food and clothes for herself since her mom never bothered to. Spirit’s childhood made her the independent, short-tempered badass that she is.

Birdie: Her backstory is another one of the less bad ones. Her parents are married and sweet, and she is an only child (but Spirit is like a sister to her). But she was bullied a lot growing up and often called crazy. She was obsessed with nature and was basically a hippie since she could walk. And her ADHD was so bad that she had meltdowns and bad ticks often, and as a result had scabs on her hands from picking at her skin. She takes medication, and Spirit sometimes keeps some of Birdie’s pills in her own bag because she knows Birdie forgets to take it from time to time.

Amberlynn: Right after Amber’s birth, her mom became a drunk and drug addict. And she was once so intoxicated once that she tried to kill little baby Amberlynn, and Amberlynn has a faded scar on her stomach from that attempt. After that, Amberlynn’s bio-dad (Finnegan) got full custody of her and left. When Anberlynn was about 2 years old, Finnegan met Jackson and the two of them got married when Amberlynn was 4. Amberlynn never knew her mom until the woman tried to show back up when Amberlynn was 13, and when Amberlynn yelled at her to leave, the woman slapped her and started to beat her while screaming. Jackson was there though and managed to get the woman locked out of the house. She was arrested after that, and the experience traumatized Amberlynn a bit. Her dads were there to help her through it though.

Eliana: She lived in Virginia and came from a very religious and political family. On the outside, she was a nice and beautiful girl who everyone assumed had a great life. But her family was hard on her—especially her three sisters who were jealous of her looks and called her a slut—and her life went to hell after one of her sisters found out she had a crush on a girl and was lesbian. People at her Christian school began to call her disgusting, and her family abused her verbally and physically. She had a brother who tried to intervene when he could, but he was the oldest and the first to move out to get away from his crazy family. But after two years when he had a job and even his own apartment, he convinced his parents to let Eliana move in with him. They disowned her and did just that. Afterwards, Eliana’s life improved and art became her therapy. After a while though of living with her brother and finishing up her high school years, her parents apologized and tried to get back in contact, saying they don’t accept her sexuality but she is family and they love her no matter what. She and her brother didn’t fully believe it, but she still visited her family on holidays and vacations while giving them the cold shoulder, knowing she could never forgive them completely. (Boy, that’s a long one😭).

Aiden: His dad was a cop and nis mom was a nurse. His life was nice until his dad was shot by a criminal and paralyzed from the waist and down. He’d always wanted to be a cop like his dad, and was even more determined after his dad’s accident. He was a well-liked, straight-A student with plenty of friends, and he’s also an insanely caring soul. Basically, his parents raised him right👍!!

Atticus: His backstory is really the best and calmest of them all. He was raised in the countryside. He wasn’t the stereotypical cowboy with a funny hat and a southern accent, but he knew how to milk a cow. He was a bright kid in school, and was basically just a giant hunk of joy. The people around him were accepting to the fact he was bi and he never struggled to fit in. He loved helping people and making them smile. He did lots of school programs like gardening club, student government, fundraisers, pen-pal club, and more. (The pen-pal thing is important to remember btw.)

Felix: He was raised in Britain his whole life, but his dad was American and he was born in America so he had dual citizenship. His mom was basically his best friend, and his dad thought this was weird since he thought that his son would be into things like sports instead of shopping. He wasn’t happy when his son came out as gay, but he didn’t put his son down either. Rather, he just never commented on it. Felix wanted to become a fashion designer like his mom, and when he told his dad the man basically sighed and said, “Okay, yeah. Sure. I’ll buy you a sewing machine if it’ll make you happy. I love ya, kid, but please just keep your grades up and for the love of God, please don’t start watching James Charles.” (BTW, Felix doesn’t watch James Charles. It’s just not his thing). When Felix was in high school, he joined a pen-pal program and was paired with a guy name Atticus from the US. They were pen-pals for the rest of high school and had even planned to go to the same college in the US so that their close friendship could continue in real life. They started dating after their first month of college.

[geemosses]

The Chef, part 1

I hate it when the workers at a restaurant start to recognize me. Hostess, cashier, waiter, chef, doesn’t matter. As soon as someone at the restaurant starts calling me by name or worse, remembering my order, I bolt, and I find another place.

I think it makes me feel self-conscious. Like yeah, I get it. I eat here all the time. I don’t cook for myself. I eat out way too much. I must be terrible with money because why would anyone spend all that money for a sandwich at the local deli when they could just make one themselves for a fraction of the price?

Well because I’m a terrible cook, that’s why. I don’t know what it is, but no matter how many recipes I find on Google, the deli sandwich always tastes better. Also, I work a lot. I don’t have time to cook for myself even if I wanted to. So, stop judging me.

Anyway, I don’t go to the local deli anymore. The last time I went there, the girl who works the register started ringing up my order the second she saw me walk in the door.

“$12.99,” she said with a smile as I walked up. I did my best to chuckle and muster up an “Oh gee, you caught me,” kind of smile while handing her my credit card. And then I never went back.

It’s been a month since that fateful day. I’ve been surviving mostly on microwavable meals, although sometimes when I’m feeling particularly adventurous, I’ll pick up one those pre-made meal kits that I can just pop in the oven for 15 minutes.

But damn do I miss those sandwiches. The way the bread had just the right amount of crunch as you take that first bite only to have that rough shell give way to a soft and fluffy interior. The way the sauce, a perfect balance between sweet and spicy, coated my tongue and carried those delicious flavors to every corner of my mouth. And the chicken! Oh, the chicken. Some people think chicken is boring. Those people haven’t tried this chicken. It’s coated in spices that I couldn’t even begin to identify but it’s still somehow in perfect harmony with the sauce. And most importantly, it’s never dry!

Surely a month is enough time for a cashier to forget about a customer… right?

So, a month and a day after I had abandoned my favorite deli, I decided I’d risk it and go back. I packed up my work laptop at 6pm on the dot, like I always did, and hopped on the next bus for the 30-minute ride home. The deli was right around the corner from my apartment, so I dropped off my backpack and walked over. My steps slowed a bit as I approached, trying to catch a glimpse through the glass doors of the restaurant. If I could just see if the cashier was the same girl, maybe I could make a last second decision to veer away and continue walking as if I had always been going somewhere else. But the sun at my back was working against me, and all I could see was a bright white glare.

It took a second for my eyes to adjust when I walked inside, but I immediately let out a small sigh of relief when I saw that the cashier was someone totally new. Someone who didn’t know my name and had never taken my order.

The new girl looked up from her phone when she heard the chime of the bell above the door and smiled politely. I weaved my way through the handful of empty tables and chairs towards her. The deli was a popular lunch spot but was almost always empty for dinner, so it was just me and the new girl.

“What can I get you?” she asked.

“One chicken sandwich please. Chips and a soda as well,” I said when I reached her.

“Alright, that will be $12.99 please.”

I paid and grabbed a bag of Doritos and a Coke, then chose a table by the window to sit and wait. The new girl just went back to her phone, not even pretending like she wanted to politely make small talk. Perfect.

Outside, a pair of small dogs had started playing on the sidewalk as their owners had a conversation. They were adorable, jumping on top of each other, wrestling for a few seconds before breaking away from each other to reset. Then they’d start all over again. I was so lost watching them play that I didn’t hear the chef walk up to my table.

“Here’s your sandwich,” he said in a deep but soft voice.

“Oh, uh, thank you…” my voice trailed off as I turned to look at the man holding my order. The man was gorgeous. He was a few inches taller than me and was a bit more muscular as well. Not that I was particularly muscular, but I tried to stay fit. On him though, I could see the definition in his arms and shoulders through his white t-shift. His eyes were a striking blue, the kind that you can’t help but stop and stare at, and his black hair only made his eyes feel deeper.

But what really got me was that smile. It was soft and welcoming. It made me feel safe.

How had I never noticed it before?

“What, do I have something on my face or something?” he asked, lightly brushing his forehead. I must have been staring a little bit too long.

“Uh, no, no, sorry, you just surprised me is all,” I said, clearing my throat and looking away to try and hide the obvious burning in my cheeks.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” he said.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, since you last stopped by,” he replied.

“You remember me?” I asked. I’d never had a conversation with the chef before. I definitely would have remembered that. Most of the time, all I could even see of him was the back of his head over the grey wall that divided the stove and kitchen area from the rest of the restaurant.

“Yeah,” he said with a smile. That smile that made it seem like all was right in the world. “You used to come in several times a week but then suddenly you just stopped coming. I hope everything was ok?”

Most of the time I would have dismissed his question as boring or polite small talk. People don’t really care how you’re doing when they say, ‘how are you doing’. But somehow, his question felt genuine. Maybe it was those eyes, or maybe it was that disarming smile, but in that moment, I was sure that he really wanted to know if I had been ok in the month since I last visited the deli.

“I was ok, yes. I was just trying to cook for myself a little more often. No matter how hard I tried though, nothing quite compares to your sandwich,” I said with an awkward chuckle. I guess technically everything I said was true. No need to mention my semi-anti-social tendencies.

“Thanks for asking.”

“Of course!” he said. “Well, I hope you don’t wait another month before you come visit again.”

“Definitely not.”

He started to turn to walk away but before I even knew what was happening my hand had shot out and lightly grabbed his arm.

“Uh, sorry. What’s your name?” I asked shyly as he turned back.

“It’s Liam,” he said. His smile grew even wider with what felt like true joy. I couldn’t help but smile an actual, real smile in response.

And when I got back to my apartment, I ate the best damn chicken sandwich I’d ever had in my life.

[jung-koook]

Maybe this is cultural, but, if you work and it’s your money, why is your dad controlling it? I would rather spend the money I have creating a memory that I’ll get to look back on later in life than to just save save save because you can’t take it with you, on your deathbed none of that money will mean anything, but the memories you created? They will last forever. I live with my parents too, but if I work and make my own money I can plan for the future while also enjoying life here and there, and I’m not using their money for anything “superficial”, I’m not materialistic, I don’t buy a lot of things, but I want to have some memories to look back on because what else can I have? I agree that buying a ton of stuff can be reckless if you’re not careful, but one photocard isn’t gonna bankrupt you, one photocard isn’t going to destroy your future. I don’t know how old you are, but I can assure you, life is so much better when you stand up for yourself and become emotionally independent from your parents. Don’t let anybody talk you down from creating memories and doing things you enjoy, specially with your own money.

I know that but my dad just love giving people advice. she didn't care what he said. like I said, it's her money. my dad has this thing of wanting to take care over certain things. but he sees it as a way of taking care of us. but for example, he doesn't ask us to help around the house with money. he really lets us adults live there without having to help because he doesn't need it. the country we live is a very expensive country to live in, so he really wants to take care of these things. but that doesn't mean I follow it. I think you can see here lmao I'm always buying online concerts, docu, bangtan albums, magazines. I bought indigo vinyl even though I don't have anywhere to play it. I bought it because it's just too beautiful. but I'm a person who lives more in the present and but my dad is someone who lives thinking more about the future, that's why I let him take care of my money. I spend a lot of money on skincare and bangtan stuff without feeling guilty because they are things that make me happy, things that I enjoy. what I wanted to say there is that because my dad is like that I am a person who thinks more about where I am going to spend my money. but I personally don't judge anyone by where they spend their money. i want everyone to enjoy their life as they want.

[yanderelovlies]

✨Galaxy Anon ✨ here!

Haha you forget viví? Friends also have to tease each other until they scream for mercy hehehe suffer pfft. Let me think about it….No.

But I still feel bad viví! Just talking with you is enough for me! It shows you care that you even respond to me and call me a friend! I probably wouldn’t take it until I really want something, I will feel bad and hate spending others money unless it was for food…then spend that money since I love food lol. Well at least you have lots of guts but I know I would feel embarrassed still since my stuff can either be normal to my god what the hell why do you like that?! Not to mention alot of stuff I’m into I really have no one to talk to about most of it since usually they aren’t into it or I’m afraid they judge me. Mostly the latter. So I’m grateful you even care about me so thanks for that.

It does I mean I get whey we use it but damn does it suck. Oh makes sense so like a discount basically. Yeah I get that I mean it’s already stressful keeping your grades up in class but having the pressure so you have a easier way to college? Nerve wracking and stress inducing.

At least you care since unfortunately a lot of siblings don’t care enough or put down there siblings. I think your doing a lot now since you worrying about that and even some parents don’t give two shits about it or claim it’s too hard to understand now. I’m sure you are, more than you think. Your amazing seeing how sweet you are viví.

Yes unfortunately especially now it can cost your life being a Good Samaritan on the road if someone needs help and they can rob or even worse kill you. And all people you wanted to be a good person.

Yeah I knew I made a good call. I maybe would’ve have either freaked out or get very aggressive then, mostly the latter if I wasn’t emotional more prepared than how I first started out when first working there. And for sure I don’t want to also get aggressive to some other customers for one lady attitude and they had nothing to do with it. I have done it before and I’m not proud of it since they shouldn’t have gotten my anger.

Pppfffttt moving on! This isn't bully vi hours for their questionable tastes.

IM THE SAME WAY AND IT DRIVES MY FAMILY WILD. I'm always getting them things and when they go "Hey want something?" I just tell them nah I'm good. Then I get asked, "how come you don't let me get things for you." Because I feel bad taking other people's hard-earned money!!!

Not to be too straightforward, but I would love to hear about your fandoms. It's one of my favorite subjects, and who knows we might have some in common! (Lowkey I miss the hoodie ugh I keep looking at the picture).

It really is though, and the fact that I have to take harder math classes lowkey scares me. I am having a blast with Philosophy, sociology, and psychology. I was having fun with composition until this professor. My last one was cool and even sent pictures of his dogs with every assignment.

Aww making my blush

I'm just trying my best. I even had a little evening outing with them. Did some gift card shopping then just rode around and sang our hearts out.

God going for a walk or jog could get you unalived these days. Which always scares the shit out of me since it's in my exercise routine. So I never go alone or without pepper spray. I also trust no one. I'm polite I say good morning, but I'm always keeping am ear open.

Hey at least you learned from that and made yourself better! Might I also add I have so much respect for you for being able to handle that on the daily. People are just getting meaner for no reason, and you don't deserve it.

[as8bakwthesage]

Blitzwing and Ottilie Headcanons (Hazformers AU)

Some headcanons about Blitzwing and Ottilie because their dynamic is fun but also because I got inspired to write about these two saps

This is not a ship! It’s purely platonic

Blitzwing lovingly gave them the nickname Purple!Duo because they both have purple in their clothes/hair/face

Blitzwing finds her strange at first because she’s so different compared to other demons

Her personality is like Violet Evergarden from “Violet Evergarden” mixed in with Belle from “Beauty and the Beast” and Blue Diamond from “Steven Universe”

Like, HOW is this girl employed by Alastor??? She’s a sweetheart!!

Ottilie thinks Blitzwing is charming if a bit strange, but she’s strange too so she doesn’t judge

She would definitely try to teach Blitzwing to sing if he asked, but only after she gets comfortable with him hearing her singing (this will take a while-)

Blitzwing has paid her to make clothes for him and she usually rejects his money

She behaves like an elder sister almost and fusses over him of he looks unhappy/messy

Because she’s pretty unemotive, she is very good at intuiting what the Icy face is feeling

Blitzwing is reluctant to accept Ottilie’s friendship at first but she’s incredibly patient and kind so she’s in no rush

Ottilie, being the Thorn Princess, has unknowingly given Blitzwing some magical protection (not that he needs it-)

The two usually spend their time together in silence reading or him listening to Ottilie composing music and practicing

Ottilie definitely sets up a romantic song to sing one night at a party when Husk and Blitzwing are dancing

She gives both men advice on what the other is attracted to (what appeals to the other the most like scents)

Ottilie is a succubus-like demon after all-

If Blitzwing ever asks her what the feelings he is feeling for Husk are, she’d be blunt yet sweet about it

“It’s completely all right, you are experiencing attraction to him because you like him.”

As soon as Husk and Blitzwing start developing feelings for one another, she immediately knows but is too polite to bring it up

Blitzwing actually tells her he’s Cybertronian and she isn’t surprised nor is she bothered by it. She fully believes him

“Why do you believe me?”

“Because you are very bad at pretending to be a human or a demon”

Blitzwing finds her voice to be very soothing (if they ever have a sleepover, she definitely sings a lullaby for him and he PASSES out)

He returns the favour one night and she falls asleep to him reading aloud (she finds his voice soothing too)

Blitzwing feels the most comfortable to be Soft around her because she won’t judge him and is very good at keeping secrets

Both are touch starved idiots who definitely have cuddled

“Organics are disgusting”

“We certainly can be, love”

She is not judgemental whatsoever and it baffles him

Eventually he does muster up the courage to ask her how did she end up in hell?

“From what I remember, I shot my husband”

“YOU shot someone?!”

“It surprises me too, trust me. I don’t say this often of people, but he deserved it.”

Ottilie has memory issues and vaguely remembers her life on Earth and Blitzwing relates to some degree due to his own trauma

She has definitely given him the softest kisses on his nose and forehead

He melts when she does that. It relaxes him immediately

They trade book recommendations and Ottilie likes listening to him talk about Cybertron and New Kaon and the Galaxy

She definitely wants to visit the stars someday if she ever gets the chance to

Blitzwing loves to tease her about her crush on Alastor when he’s not around

Blitzwing ships Alastor and Ottilie as much as she ships Blitzwing and Husk

She would teach him French if he asked

[douchebagbrainwaves]

WHY I'M SMARTER THAN INVESTORS

A bit later I realized why. If you study conversations, you find there is a way of classifying forms of disagreement. The biggest fear of investors looking at early stage startups, and b explain why users will want it. What could be a better sign that someone was satisfied with a search result than going to the site and buying something? What do you make? The thesis seems to be as bad for startups as too much time, so we encourage them to focus on working with other students they want as cofounders. In the earliest stage, startups not only have more questions to answer, but they wouldn't happen if he weren't CEO. In some fields it might be a good language. This too seems a technique that should be: and the reason I can't believe the author dismisses intelligent design in such a cavalier fashion.

But it doesn't matter much either way. Mistake number two. Shockley, one of the features of our scheme is that it will make the people who didn't have the energy to keep a company going in lieu of unburdening success isn't free; it is siphoned from the founders themselves. These are smart people; if the technology was good, they'd have used it voluntarily. If you understand them, you can at least avoid being surprised, the next thought after that should be generally applicable. The books the professors wrote about expert systems are now ignored. Fortunately, it can be convincing. On the subway back from the airport she asked Why is everyone smiling? I spend a lot of the towns they like most is the freedom: I'm surprised by how long it takes is that they're bad at judging startups.

After a while, if you could get all three for nothing. These can certainly affect your life—it's hard to get into grad school, or to get a penny till the company is still theirs.1 A that this is a game of skill.2 1%-4. I'm not eager to fix that. If you can't find an actual quote to disagree with, you may have a whole car to yourself. So this relationship has to be a lot of the people there are rich, or expect to be when their options vest. Experienced investors know that, so stories of this type will get their attention.3 And yet while there are in fact lots of ways for such information to spread among investors, the main vector is probably the defining quality of Silicon Valley were the office space.

Sometimes they even agree with one another to assemble railroad monopolies. The more mobile startups get, the harder it is to kill. The reason not to put all your eggs in one basket is not the only cost of hiring someone: there's usually salary and overhead is 1. You have to find a new job in a bad economy will be higher than for waiting. It happened to cloth manufacture in the thirteenth century, generating the wealth that later brought about the Renaissance. Basically, unions were just Razorfish. That would have saved me in all three cases.

The reason VCs seem formidable is that it's tested more severely than in most other situations. The other is the sense we mean when we talk about the needs of the users determine what to do next. That's why I don't find that I'm eager to learn it. You can never tell what will work.4 When they're raising money, for example, or a new category of things not to eat—the Bay Area would be the place to do it. Maybe we'll just have to do that with coworkers. But to spend it doing fake work. One is that being mean makes you fail.

We often emphasize how rarely startups win simply because they hit on some magic idea. If you're small, they don't think it is urgent. By this point everyone knows you should release fast and iterate. It was not always this way. As often happens, Ron discovered how to be the cockroaches of the corporate world. If you don't genuinely believe that, perhaps you ought to change what your company is doing. So here's an attempt at a disagreement hierarchy: DH0. Facebook. In the original Java white paper, Gosling explicitly says Java was designed not to be too difficult for programmers used to C.

Notes

Y Combinator only got 38 cents on the valuation turns out to be sharply differentiated. You may not be able to redistribute wealth successfully, because they believe they do the same way a bibilical literalist is committed to believing anything in particular, because sometimes artists unconsciously use tricks by imitating art that is worth studying, especially if you repair a machine that's broken because a great programmer is infinitely more valuable, because software takes longer to close than you expect. In fact the secret weapon of the companies fail, unless you're sure your money will be lots of others followed.

The dictator in the world, but that wasn't a partnership.

I don't like the one hand and the restrictions on what people mean when they buy some startups and not be surprised if VCs' tendency to push founders to have gotten where they are at least try. Those investors probably thought they'd been living in a band, or Seattle, consider moving. And frankly even these companies wish they weren't, because it doesn't change the meaning of the next investor.

Even if you like a knowledge of human nature, might come from. The top VCs thus have a competent startup lawyer handle the deal. But a company grew at 1% a week for 19 years, maybe you don't need its reassurance. Hypothesis: Any plan in 2001, but as a cause them to.

[jodilin65]

SATURDAY, JANUARY 31, 2009 I wanted to run an hour, but due to the heat, I could only do 20 minutes. An hour is about a 600-calorie burn, which would let me easily eat up to 1500 cals a day if I wanted to and still lose weight.

I wish I felt more optimistic about our future, but I still feel like we’re struggling just to get nowhere. It seems there are obstacles and setbacks just waiting to jump out at us at every corner we turn. Today it was camera trouble and he finding out that he’d have to pay $50 in sales tax on the flooring. He’s still going to mention it when he tells Jesse tomorrow that we can only pay half the rent till the 4th. We read the rental agreement in which a standard form that appears to have been downloaded from the net said they’d charge a $25 late fee if the rent wasn’t paid by the 3rd, but since half of it will be paid a day before the 1st, I’m hoping that will be okay. Like I said, it’s all going to depend on how greedy and insensitive the spoiled little rich boy up there is. He has no choice but to wait till the 4th to get it all, and I’ll be damned if we’ll pay any late fees as long as we have to keep listening to his fucking dogs which, coincidentally, started up as soon as I got up. I just don’t understand why they’ve gotten to be such a problem!

Tom thinks Mary’s spell will help us because we finally received that $5 gas card yesterday that we’d given up on and weren’t expecting. Well, I sure hope it helps because I really miss our old life in Oregon. Some of it anyway. I don’t miss the cold or living in that tilted old dump of a house, and of course the noise was much worse, but we had so few stressful days there. I know, though, that by now the shit would’ve hit the fan there, too. He’d have lost his job and been unable to get unemployment, so maybe things would’ve ended up worse. We can never know for sure. We just know we learned the hard way that Oregon makes collecting unemployment very hard to do.

I just hope we survive to get another chance to do things right. So right that it’d take a hell of an awful lot to yank the carpet out from under our feet for the millionth time. Now that we’ve learned about saving and can discipline ourselves from spending, I’d really, really like a shot at saving tons of money and creating a serious cushion for us! It may take a while to do, but if God could let Tom have a job, that’d be a good way to start!

God.

What in the world is up with Him lately? I’m getting the things I’ve been praying NOT to get for months now! Yet He has no problem whatsoever granting the prayers of the bigots who prayed to strip gays of their rights?! WTF?! Do I have to ask for bad and unfair things just to be heard? Do I have to ask that He inflict pain and suffering upon people? Ok, God, go find Joely N, Debra V, Jerry O, Paul K, The DA and Judge H and turn on the suffering! May You lavish all kinds of pain, loss, misery and financial hell upon these sickos that made our lives a living hell for nearly 7 years. Have their neighbors torment them for no reason at all. And also without the slightest bit of provocation, let the law be used and abused against them like crazy! Let them lose their own jobs, their homes, experience sleepless nights, panic attacks, hunger and all kinds of money woes. Oh, and don’t forget the health problems, too. Make them suffer great pain, illness and injury and all with no insurance! Frame ‘em, maim ‘em, then let them too, come home one day to find their beloved pet dying.

Ok, I’m done venting. I shoulda used real names, though. Not only is this MY journal but hey, why not? The Arizona Republic used mine. And people PAID to read that!

Still no real interest in Tyler. She only has 7 views and no watchers. My guess is it’s the outfit. Angelina has 18 views and 4 watchers. Angelina has 18 views and 4 watchers.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 29, 2009 I’m amazed at the feedback I’ve been getting on MD saying how much people love my diary! It’s “well-written and honest,” so I’m told, and I should cheer up too, as things will get better. I sure hope so! I’d have thought my diary would be getting too depressing to read at this point. Seriously, I feel like I haven’t had anything happy to say for quite a while. Well, with the spell Mary is doing for us with a little help on our part, maybe I’ll have happier things to write about soon. I sure do hope so!

The few spells I’ve tried have been worthless, but Tom says it’s because I get impatient and don’t always give things a chance or follow through with completing the spells. I commented on the Return to Sender spell not helping, and he reminded me that there’s a difference between a curse and bad luck. Bad luck is where we’re at now with him being laid off while being set up and tossed in jail, losing our land/house in Arizona, then our land in Oregon, along with other shit we went through, was rather extreme, thus being considered a curse. As Tom reminded me, that particular spell was to lift curses and doesn’t help bad luck in any way like it helped break the curse.

Well, let’s just hope Mary’s spell helps. She says it takes up to 13 days for a spell to manifest and 27 to complete, so we should see a difference by February 27th, since she cast it on the 25th. As I reminded her, we’re nowhere close to being in the desperate fix we were in back in the motel. Technically we’re not even in any serious danger of any kind, just not as comfortable as we’d like to be. Who is these days? Still, a $500 win would come in real handy now and make us plenty comfortable as long as we were wise about it.

She also sent an article on dealing with family issues for me to give to Tammy, but as I told her, I don’t know her current address for sure and don’t want to have any contact either.

Nathan, the guy she’s seeing, is a lawyer. She said she’d mention my willingness to do research for him or anything else within my means for minimum wage. Even just a couple hundred a month would go a long way to making things more comfortable for us.

We relisted Angelina and Tyler. Angelina’s already got 1 watcher. Now that we know where it’s at, we can also see that she’s had 7 views while Tyler’s had 5. This hardly seems like much in the 8 hours they’ve been listed. We’re running them for 7 days this time around instead of 3, and if they sell at the $39 they’re now listed at, we’ll put up 4 more a couple of days apart from one another. Tom also has some odds and ends he’s going to list as well. It’s fun whether you need the money or not!

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 28, 2009 I still wonder what the purpose is in our lives. Why do we keep living? What’s it all for? I still don’t see the point. Not that I’m saying we’re going to kill ourselves, or that I’d write about it if we were, but things seem so depressing right now. Ok, so maybe part of it is PMS, but it still seems like we’re stuck in this endless rut that just goes on and on and on. It’s been months now and there doesn’t seem to be any end coming anytime soon. When, if ever, will things change? He loves being home and getting free money, but we both agree it would be better for him to have a job that pays more money and provides us both with affordable insurance, even if it’s not a job he’d like very much.

He assures me we’ll be okay in the end and that someday we’ll be able to get a house, but I just don’t see it happening. I wish I could, but I don’t. Then again, do I really want to “see” something that very well may not exist?

I feel that we’ve lived up to our full potential, so to speak, and that any chance we may’ve ever had of achieving any kind of security or success is forever gone. We talked about how we screwed up when moving to Maricopa and then to Oregon due to being inexperienced and not knowing what we were doing. To have fucked up that bad – and twice – makes me think something up there deliberately guided us in all the wrong directions just to see us fail. Has anyone else ever fucked up as badly as we did when it comes to buying land and building houses??? Tom had a point when he said, “Who’d have thought that mountain in Oregon would be volcanic and therefore nearly impossible to dig a septic in? And how could we possibly have known Oregon was such a backward state in so many ways?”

Tom is still amazed that such backwardness could exist today.

To me, my feeling so down and hopeless isn’t just about being late with some of the rent. It’s about believing nothing will ever change for us in any significant way. Not for long anyway. This is about the fact that I’m simply tired of life. Nothing excites me anymore. I just can’t think of anything new and exciting anymore. Not that I wouldn’t take it if it came, but even winning a thousand-dollar shopping spree wherever wouldn’t be all that big of a deal at this point. It seems so many of the things I used to look forward to just don’t appeal to me anymore. A house doesn’t excite me anymore because I don’t think it’s a possibility. Getting rid of some of these dolls is now more exciting to me than getting them used to be. I guess it’s a case of new pennies losing their shine over time, plus the fact that dusting over 100 pieces of collectibles of various kinds gets really old after a while.

I’m trying to live for the moment and let the future take care of itself, but it’s a lot easier said than done at times. I just feel we’re so doomed. Year after year we continue to struggle with a few scattered breaks in between that don’t last long. I continue to wait for the insurance that never comes. And now I’m afraid I’m waiting for a house and even a job that may never come.

I still don’t see the purpose of carrying on just to struggle and never have the things we want in life. As I reminded Tom, we have no jobs or kids to hold us back from killing ourselves. No obligations whatsoever. So why wait around for things to get worse if they’re going to? Why grow old and have no one to help take care of us in the end?

Then he begs me to just give things a little more time, even though I feel like that’s all we’ve been doing for months now. Just giving things a little more time. Meanwhile, nothing’s changed.

Tom saw Jesse working on the bulldozer with the kid after wasting his time today going to the doll “store” that’s really someone’s house. Now I hope he’s finally learned his lesson about calling places first! He was going to check out the other flooring store too, but sure enough, his feet decided to drain a bit, so he had to come home and pee. He’s now pretty sure it’s the chair that’s causing all the water retention.

I’m up two pounds to 134 pounds, thanks to a combination of retaining water myself, plus the binging spree I just had to go on yesterday for reasons I still can’t figure out. What made me so damn hungry like that? And why am I hardly hungry at all today? I still don’t get what causes me to be hungry some days and not so hungry other days. I ended up stuffing 2300 calories into my fat face! I rarely have 2000 in a day, so 2300 was definitely a rarity for me. It’s kind of disgusting when I think about it, but oh well. What’s done is done.

Anyway, we were both wondering why the kid would be with Jesse during school hours. I didn’t hear anything this evening, but maybe the reason the dogs were going off right before 6:00 the last few evenings was that that’s when he was bringing the kid back.

He didn’t talk to Jesse because the kid was there and he didn’t want to give him time to think about the fact that we’ll only be paying half the rent on the 1st, while the other half has to wait a few days till the next unemployment check arrives. Tom doesn’t want him to get a chance to talk to Maryann and be persuaded by her to charge late fees, which I would absolutely refuse to pay. Technically one has a 10-day grace period to pay any of it, but we’d be paying half of it on time so that’s two weeks’ worth of rent. We can’t give him money we don’t have before we have it to give to him, so he’s just going to have to accept that. I don’t think there’ll be a problem, but so help me God, if he gives us any shit – any shit at all – I’ll be up there so fast beating him so black and blue he won’t be able to sit for days! And that doesn’t include the fact that he’ll also be shitting teeth for a week after I put my fist down his throat.

It’s usually the spoiled little rich snobs who have no concept of what it’s like to struggle and can’t just take what they can get when they can get it and leave it at that. Believe me when I say this guy hardly seems like he’s hard up for bucks. If he is, then appearances really are deceiving in his case! He’s got a beautiful house, a beautiful piece of land, a brand new truck, a Harley, another truck, and I’d be willing to bet just about anything that they’re all paid for. I still don’t think there’ll be a problem, like I said, because good people are hard to find and I don’t think he wants the hassle of having to go through hunting for renters that may or may not be thieves like the last ones were. I hope not anyway, but since God’s not answering many of my prayers lately, I won’t bother asking Him for any help with this. We’re truly on our own in this world.

Tom evened out my hair with the haircutter a few days ago. It’s closer to one length again and just barely brushes my shoulders. I have just enough to pull into a little stub of a ponytail to get it off my neck when running, but not enough to be nearly the pain in the ass and hard work it used to be. Yup, my long hair days definitely could be over the more I get used to the ease of having it short. I’ve cut it more in the last 8 months than in 20 years altogether! It might be a pain in the ass to have to trim it every month cuz it grows so fast, but better to be a pain once a month, than every day like it used to be when I could sit on it. Just trying to pee with it was a challenge, having to drape the hair to the side just to keep it out of the way. At bedtime, I can now throw it up in a little bun at the crown of my head. Before I had to braid it and toss it up over the pillow and it didn’t always use to stay put throughout the night.

Esme was mailed off to Tennessee today (she almost went to France). Tomorrow we’ll relist Tyler and Angelina after we drop the price by $10. I have 3 other Tonners I’d be okay with selling after that. Tom urged me not to sell anything I don’t want to sell, so I’m selling just a few more that are just so-so and nothing special. That’d be Emme, a replica of a real-life heavy model, and also Emilie and Glinda. When I looked at these dolls and asked myself if I’d rather get the money they could bring or keep them, the money won over the dolls. I should get a couple hundred for the 5 of them. Actually, I may add one of the Sydney Chase dolls, so that’d make it more than $200, especially since I’d be selling only one as a basic. These are all 16” dolls. As for the 22” American Model doll, I haven’t yet fully talked myself into listing her, but I might.

TUESDAY, JANUARY 27, 2009 Esme sold for $53 but the others didn’t budge. Angelina had a watcher at one point, but nothing for Tyler. Tom’s going to check out a doll store about 25 miles away tomorrow that buys dolls and does consignment. Depending on what they say, we may relist the dolls that didn’t sell, plus put up other stuff. We’re actually gearing up to go on quite a selling frenzy, although it might be a day or two before we list more stuff. We have other dolls, coins, books and stuff like that which we could afford to get out of our way. Our space is very limited here, so anything we don’t want can gladly go.

After he checks out the doll store, he’s going to check out a different flooring store over in Grass Valley. I’m pretty sure some of the rent is going to have to be late either way.

I simply don’t share Tom’s optimistic view of the future. It looks so bleak to me. How can it not when no one’s hiring anywhere in the country but maybe Vegas? I still say we’re looking at being broke the rest of our lives if we don’t kill ourselves first to escape homelessness. And the threat of homelessness still looms over my head every day. Just the thought of it and knowing it’s a possibility can really sap one’s will to carry on. I know we’ll never own a house again. There’s no doubt about that. I’d have to win incredibly big and I don’t think I will. Not if we’re really not meant to have a home of our own as I’m getting surer of each year that’s gone by since 2004. I don’t understand how Tom can be so optimistic. I mean, he seems too smart to be naïve, so I just don’t get it. How can he say things are going to work out? If they do work out, it’d be in a half-assed sort of way. Meaning that just because we may get enough money to live on in the end doesn’t mean we’ll ever own a house.

I pointed out to Tom how a quarter of the unemployment checks are going to Jesse and he said, that’s okay, it’s free money and he loves not working, even though, as he says, he’s been sitting so much that it’s making him fat.

As mean and hurtful as it was (and definitely not the way to help someone with a weight problem), and as much as it was usually Tammy who got called a pig as a child rather than me, had my mother called me a pig tonight, she’d have been correct! I don’t understand what causes it, but sometimes I have these days where I’m always hungry and it seems nothing fills me up until I literally stuff myself so full I could almost burst.

So anyway, Tom thinks he’ll get a job, we won’t always struggle, and we won’t always live in NorCal either. He thinks we’ll own a place too, of course. He says he’s going by our history of not staying in the same place for too many years. Oh, I’m going by history too. The one where we moved to Oregon and came a little closer to disaster than I’d like, and the one where we moved to California and came more than just “close” to disaster and were damn near killed! So unless we’re moving to a place that already exists or we have a ton of money to build the home I can’t ever imagine us having, I won’t be wandering off very far at all.

For 3 evenings in a row, the dogs have gone off right before 6:00. Fortunately, these fits haven’t lasted long and there have been few other fits along the way, but if there’s one thing I dread about the economy improving, it’s Jesse going back to work. My guess is that he’s been home this much due to a lack of construction jobs. Could be that he’s not desperate for money as well, but I think the lack of jobs has something to do with it. Well, if he ever gets to working full-time like he was before Christmas, and if he doesn’t do something about the dogs, it’s going to really be hell around here and I’m not looking forward to it!

The rain and the frogs have gone away and it’s to be in the 60s over the next few days. Warm enough not to need heat during the daytime.

MONDAY, JANUARY 26, 2009 The swelling in Tom’s feet, which seems to be water retention, dropped dramatically. He went down 5 pounds overnight. It still comes and goes, but hopefully it will continue to improve. He’s now using the heat massager on his feet which helps.

Attitudes about those threatening suicide have really changed since I tried to take my own life as a teenager over 20 years ago. Nowadays people are quick to get involved and want to help. They don’t write off most threats as mere cries for attention like they did years ago. There’s this lady on OLS who says a teenager on Pogo is threatening suicide. Years ago most people would be quick to tell her, “Don’t get involved. It’s not your problem. It’s probably just an attention-getter. You don’t even know that they’re really a teenager. They’d only take advantage of you if you pay them any mind and use suicide threats as a crutch. Besides, if they do kill themselves, it’s their life, and you’re not responsible for their actions.”

When I threw myself out a 2nd-story window and ended up with a broken arm when I was 17, I was treated as if I had killed a dozen innocent people for no reason at all. Some people smothered me, but most alienated me, making me feel much worse and even sorry that I survived. I was treated like a walking disease. I was made to feel ashamed of myself and I shouldered all the blame for many years, as young as I was.

“Try it again. Maybe next time you’ll succeed,” were the first words out of my mother’s mouth when she came to see me in the hospital. I never forgot those words. Definitely the wrong thing to say to make someone feel better about living, that’s for sure! I think – at least I hope – that even if my mother wouldn’t ever admit it, she at least realizes the error of her words and that she would react differently today, for no one attempts suicide that isn’t absolutely miserable. I’m glad more people today realize that you can’t solve problems with a bottle of pills, isolation, and insensitive words.

I was amazed when I read all the comments offering to pray for this mere electronic being in cyberspace whom they’d never met. Yet of all the dozens of people that I had to live with at the private school in which I tried to kill myself, who prayed for me? Nobody. Not one single, solitary soul.

And who came to visit me at the hospital while I lay there with my arm in a cast besides my parents? No one. Why? Because I “brought it on myself,” the school staff decided. No, no one could influence a 17-year-old to want to die, could they? No, it just had to be all my own doing and all for attention, despite the fact that most people with a rational mind would agree that jumping from a 2nd-story window is a rather risky way to get attention.

So the support I needed was kept from me, all because I was a “spoiled, manipulative little attention-getter.”

SUNDAY, JANUARY 25, 2009 The drama queen sent a message saying she passed my birthday message on to Lisa and that she hopes I’m well. I replied with a quick: U 2. Still not wanting regular contact with her, I thought I should keep it brief, yet there was no reason not to acknowledge the message.

How do I feel? Pretty much the same. She did what she did. She didn’t do what she didn’t do. And in the end, the past cannot be changed. As for the here and now; we’re still two very different people living in two very different parts of the country.

Do I think she’s reading my journal? Before I wasn’t sure, but now I’m thinking no, probably not. Wouldn’t she be getting pissed over some of the things I’ve written and let me know if she were? Then again, maybe she realizes that opinions are like assholes, everybody’s got ‘em. She also may realize that one’s belief in something doesn’t necessarily make it wrong just because we may not all agree. She says the best color is purple. I say it’s pink. Yet that doesn’t make me any more or less correct.

When will I write my folks next? I’ll probably send letters mostly on birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, that sort of thing.

Well, it had been a peaceful day up until right before 6:00, but then the dogs started going off. Whether or not it was more than just a few barks, I don’t know. I didn’t want to hear it so I threw the music on. The only other thing we heard from today was all the frogs. They’re still pretty active, even though it was sunny throughout most of the day.

I’m surprised the dogs took so long to make themselves heard. When Tom returned from the flooring place it was already after 2:00. I then made the comment about how Jesse must’ve been home all day so far because it had been quiet, but Tom said he didn’t see his truck up there.

The flooring place was closed today, so he has to return tomorrow. I can’t believe the store was closed on Sunday of all days! That’s when most people are off work.

One of the dolls has a couple of watchers, but no bids yet. I wouldn’t expect much action until Tuesday.

I offered to sell 4-5 more Tonners I don’t absolutely have to have that are just okay and that I’ve enjoyed for enough time now if only to raise money to help get the TV and his Mac back, but Tom said I didn’t have to do that unless I wanted to. He said worst-case scenario he could get up enough money easily enough to buy the TV back, then sell it outright on Craigslist, then use that money to get the Mac. Knowing how he overestimates things and puts too much faith in whatever, this would probably be easier said than done.

If only we’d gotten 50 gallons of propane instead of 100! We just didn’t think we’d have that warm spell in January of all months, though it’s gotten cold again. It’s going to get down into the 30s tonight but will warm back up in a few days. They’re getting snow at the highest point of the Sierras, something I’m glad we won’t get!

As for the program, there’s both good and bad news where that’s concerned. Yes, it does exactly what Tom created it to do. But not nearly as fast as he thought it would. It would take years for the money to build up enough to be our sole source of income without putting hundreds of dollars into it. Better slower than never, but for now I’m going to continue assuming we’re going to be struggling all or most of our lives without ever owning a house again. If I think positively, I could only end up disappointed in the end. But if we ever do get more than we – or I – expect, then I’ll be pleasantly surprised which will make it all the more exciting.

Anyway, the program’s not going anywhere till he gets a job if even that much is still possible. With a job, just $50 would eventually get it to where we want it to go. We don’t feel the need to invest more money to speed things up because we’re not in a bad place we’re desperate to escape. The only time the place sucks is when the dogs won’t shut up. Well, that and when I get to wishing we had just one more room and an additional half-bath!

SATURDAY, JANUARY 24, 2009 We listed 3 dressed Tonner dolls earlier for $49 each. I hope they sell! We’ll find out on Tuesday.

The frogs have been ribbeting up a storm due to all the rain we’ve had.

The last two days have been wonderfully quiet. Just a few barks and a minute of the freeloaders revving up their dirt bikes, if that’s what it really is.

I guess I’ll call this an entry, as short as it is. There just isn’t anything else to say right now.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 22, 2009 Jesse’s certainly not going roaring off on his motorcycle anytime soon. Not with this rain. Yeah, no more warm afternoons in shorts. It’s pretty chilly out there now and it’s going to be rainy and damp for a few days. Jesse could still take off in the truck and leave us to deal with his fucking dogs, but we do intend to deal with the situation soon enough. We agreed that Tom would be the one to talk to him. Tom feels he may have a harder time understanding me because I’m from the East and talk differently. I say the guy’s just your typical dumb-ass male. Like I said before, he may be crafty, but he’s still a guy, most of whom are stupid idiots. And as long as he’s going to interrupt, ramble and change subjects wildly like he does, of course he’s not always going to get what people are trying to tell him. Hopefully, Tom will just get to the point and let him know that hey, we know it’s not his fault and that he probably hasn’t a clue as to what goes on when he’s not here, but we’d like him to do something so we no longer have to deal with this racket. We didn’t come here for this shit!

We can’t make him take responsibility and we can’t control how he may react. Maybe he’ll take things personally and come undone like the Phoenix freeloaders, but I don’t think so. Then again, I don’t care how he takes it as long as he does something to restore the peace around here. Today it’s quiet cuz of the rain and the fact that he hasn’t left yet, but half the time it’s noisy and it never used to be like this. Since last October or November, the barking has been much more frequent and longer-lasting. If he does have an I-don’t-give-a-shit attitude, we’ll move as soon as we can, but I can tell you one thing for sure and that’s that I won’t be going out of here peacefully if we’re forced to move cuz he won’t shut the damn things up. I guess it will depend on how badly he wants us to stay. People who own sites like OLS can continue to ignore member requests for things they want because they can well afford to, and while Jesse may be able to afford to lose $825 a month, I would still think he’d rather not do so and therefore risk getting the kinds of thieves he had in here last time around.

We both got wins today. He won a Flip video camera from Pepsi, and I got the coffee and CD I won.

Later…

Just when I thought we were going to get to go the whole day without any barking, the dogs go crazy. Obviously, Jesse took off in the truck. Damn! Can’t the cock stay home all day for just one day? Just one day? Tom thinks he went to bring the trash to Maryann’s.

Anyway, that so-called farming equipment I’ve been hearing lately may very well actually be the freeloaders’ dirt bike which Jesse said they had. When I opened the bathroom window and listened, that’s what it sounded like to me. How ironic that as soon as they’re ordered to keep their dogs on their own damn land they start with the dirt bike. It’s like they just have to do something to be annoying. I’ve noticed this trait in people. If they can’t do one thing, they just go and do something else. I’m a little worried Jesse may do the same thing, although I would think he’d just do nothing at all about the barking before he’d control the barking and then do something else.

Kim traded in noise for noise. When I mentioned all the door-slamming she was quick to say she’d curb it for me, and I thought, wow, she took that quite well for a Westerner! Then she goes and starts with the car stereo instead.

I almost wish - if Jesse absolutely must replace the dogs with something - that we could return to the days of him coming down here as much as he used to because he certainly didn’t bug me here nearly as much as the dogs have been barking.

The more I think about it, the more a retirement community appeals to me more than rural, although I still don’t think we’ll ever own our own place again anywhere. In retirement communities, we would at least not have to worry about motorcycles, dirt bikes, sonic booms, loose dogs, and barking dogs kept outside around the clock. I would think not even the most cursed of people would get a noisy neighbor there. Besides, if they did, they could do something about it a lot easier than they could in most other places.

Tom was laughing when I said he was too positive. Well, it’s true! LOL, these woods could be engulfed in flames and he’d still be like, “Everything’s fine. Just relax. We’ll be okay.”

Waste of time or not, when I was going through my usual list of ‘we-should-haves’ - we should have run the freeloaders out and stayed in Phoenix, we should have stayed in Arizona, we should have stayed in Oregon - to spare ourselves from the disasters we went through, he said that while he could see my point, the adventures, and even the disasters, were still kind of fun. Wow, he’s got a pretty strange definition of “fun” if that’s how he feels! Then again, I guess it depends on which disasters you’re judging. Sure, the Oregon disaster was actually quite a joyride compared to the one here. And I can’t believe I thought that between the trains, planes, and cruise itself, it was oh-so rough of a trip. What a picnic compared to the 8-month “trip” we were on coming here!

The abortion protesters are pissing me off again. Why can’t they just not get an abortion if they don’t want one and leave everybody else the hell alone?!

I forgot to mention the frogs. We hear them at night, usually more so when it rains, and they sound pretty neat.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 21, 2009 Jesse definitely hasn’t been working regularly, but some days he leaves on the motorcycle at 11:30 and doesn’t return for 2-4 hours, leaving the dogs to go crazy on and off, thus proving that what vehicle he takes off with isn’t the issue. Either something’s stirring them up that we can’t see or hear, or they’re barking just to be barking. Or maybe they feel lonely, abused and neglected. I don’t know. I just know that I went and left the note in his box, despite Tom’s urging me to wait (if it were up to him Jesse would never get the note). Then I came back and said to myself, “What’s the point? Even if Jesse cares enough to control the damn dogs when he’s out, there’ll just be something else. If it’s not him that goes and does something else, someone else around here will. You know you’ll get punished for trying to quiet any source of noise life may sic on you, so what’s the point?”

Then I went and retrieved the note, took it back inside, tore it up and threw it away. That ought to score points with God. If I just accept and live with the pain, poverty and noise He loves to see me live with without fighting it, maybe then He’ll give us a break. This doesn’t mean I still won’t throw on music or fans to drown out the noise or that I won’t pop painkillers when my teeth or ear act up, but I won’t bother to try to get to the root of the problem, more or less.

Speaking of pain, it hasn’t been as bad as usual lately, so that’s nice. I don’t know how long it will last, but I’m enjoying it while it does. All I have is a little hip inflammation right now. I did a lot of walking across the parking lot yesterday where the stores are that we went to, plus I run my daily mile, plus I just scaled the hill here twice, and some parts of it are so steep it’s literally like climbing a wall, and all at 43 years of age. You really have to be in shape to get up and down that thing.

What’s amazing is that my weight has been holding steady even though I haven’t been dieting lately. I guess running a mile a day is the only way to go if you want to stuff yourself at times like I love to do. How else could I slam a batch of cookies into my face and hold the same weight? Later I’ll be slamming on a basket of French fries, too! LOL

I swear I smell like a skunk now! I don’t know if it was Tom or Jesse, but one of them hit a skunk at the fork and my clothes smelled of it when I got back inside. Although I threw my shirt in the hamper, I swear I still smell traces of it on me, even after spraying perfume on me. My nose is as good as any dog’s is, though, so I’ll probably smell it till my next shower.

The only other things we’ve been hearing around here lately is a motorcycle that sounds like a saw coming from further down the hill, plus some kind of farming equipment in that direction, too. I can’t imagine what it could be, though, as I didn’t think there were any farms in this immediate area. Yet I hear the sound of a large vehicle chugging along from around 2:00 to sundown. It definitely sounds like some sort of tractor. Could they be preparing for a new house on some land around here?

Although I’m still a bit down, I’m trying my best to accept fate. Tom insists we won’t be struggling all our lives and that it’s just a matter of time before we find our niche. Just like I found a way to lose weight after many years of trying. I was actually around 37 when I stopped being able to lose weight, much less keep what little I’d lose off. That’s when I had my ring enlarged, but then I got even bigger that I could barely stand to wear it. Today, though, I have to take it off just to shower and do dishes to keep it from going down the drain!

I kept going back and forth in my mind as to whether or not I want to lose more weight or just stay where I’m at. I think I’ll try to get into the 120s since I’m just a few pounds away, but not for about a week or so.

Anyway, as I pointed out to Tom, it takes money to make money and we don’t have money. He says he still thinks the horses could work, but that it would take $500 instead of $50 to make it happen which he just didn’t realize. I don’t think so, though.

I could also sell a book through Lulu, but again, this would take a few grand that we don’t have.

Besides, as I said to Tom, if there was a way to make money, everyone would be doing it. He said that’s why they call it a “niche.” He said he doesn’t know if it will be the horses or a website we put up, but that we’ll find it.

Yeah, when?

Meanwhile, we’re going to be setting a reserve on 3 Tonners on eBay in a few days. They’ll be listed separately but will run simultaneously and we’ll refuse to do combined shipping for the no doubt many people who will ask for it. Separate shipping would make us more money. Everybody wants something for nothing, but we can’t afford to practically give these pricey collectibles away like we did with the Barbies. Paying the rent depends on it, along with the flooring, and some of it may still have to be a few days late.

People’s greedy selfishness really disgusts me. Hell, we all want a good deal. But the way so many people expect others to just give, give, give and get nothing in return really makes me sick! Have they forgotten that these people they expect to shower them with freebies have bills to pay, too? Or do they just not give a damn?

Tom also feels certain things will change now that Obama’s officially in office. I still have to wonder if he was only picked for his color. Tom says he doesn’t think he won cuz he’s black, but because the Republicans have fucked things up so long that people were willing to vote for any Democrat that was running.

Once again I deleted the letters to my parents from MD. I figured that anyone who may want to read them has already done so. Plus, I have them backed up elsewhere so they don’t really need to be there anyway.

Tom’s feet are still swollen. He remembers the Queen having the same problem when she was his age where her feet just swelled up for no apparent reason. He’s swollen all the way up to the middle of his calves. We both agree that his weight gain is connected to this, cuz that’s quite a jump and in no time at all. He’s usually 225-230 pounds, so to jump to 262 practically overnight tells us something.

He’s started doing some low-impact exercising to hopefully bring the swelling down. I just hope it’s nothing serious. That’s all we’d need on top of my own shit!

Later…

Did Jesse leave again in the truck? We know he returned on the motorcycle at 1:15 because we heard it loud and clear, but if he slipped out in the truck we wouldn’t know it as that’s the only thing of his we can’t hear. But I can hear the fucking dogs going off right now. Again. God, I’d sure hate to think he’s up there just sitting there letting them go off like this! How utterly rude that would be! That would also go against what he told me. His exact words were, “I try to keep my dogs quiet.” Well, they’re far from quiet now, but hey, I’m on days now. So why wouldn’t they be going off, right?

TUESDAY, JANUARY 20, 2009 Although my decision not to associate with Tammy still stands (although knowing her, she told people it was her decision), I posted a happy birthday message to Lisa on my wall on Facebook, not that I expected anyone to see it.

Lisa would be in her mid-20s now. Hope she hasn’t gotten knocked up yet. I mean, that’s still a little young to be having kids, no matter how much money and support you may have.

I wonder how many of them had to be drugged up (besides just Lisa) in order to deal with Tammy. Did Tammy carry on the “funny farm” tradition that began with me? Although my folks and Tammy are far from the worst people in existence, they never seemed to get that while you can lead a horse to water, you cannot make it drink. It’s that way with the typical teenage bullshit every parent seems to think is oh-so extreme in their case. Every parent seems to think they’ve got it the worst. But guess what? You can dope them up, you can lock them up, but they’re still going to be who they are. Only time, age and experience can change and shape who we are, and that’s still got to be up to us as individuals. Not our families, not our friends, not society, and not doctors.

So, although I don’t ever expect to talk to Lisa again either, I hope she’s doing well in life and getting at least some of the things she wants.

As for me, there’s no doubt in my mind that we’ll never own anything again and so I’m still bummed out. We went out today which perked me up a little, but just being cursed with this sleep disorder alone is enough to tell me I’ll never win a house or enough money to buy one. Or at least most of it with anyway. To win a house or big bucks would totally defeat the purpose of cursing me with the sleep disorder in the first place. I was cursed with it to keep me from working outside of the house, thus providing us with two incomes. Therefore, why would I ever be allowed to win enough to buy a house and some real security in life? To compensate us for the years we suffered financially? I don’t think so. If that were the case, what’s taking so long?

So this reality check has had me feeling rather down. Even if I knew we’d never be so bad off that we’d end up on the streets, the thought of living in other people’s places for the rest of my life really sucks. I’m trying to look on the bright side of things to counter my dreary, hopeless mood. At least we didn’t get stuck in some rocking apartment complex like I thought we would. I would’ve been utterly miserable and who knows when I’d have finally gotten pushed too far by one unruly neighbor after another that I’d have lost it and beaten them into silence.

Tom said he believes we can buy something in a retirement community when he’s 55, but he also believed the program would pay off and he was wrong.

If we survive and continue to make shitty money, I still need to see a dentist, an optometrist and an ear doctor. Plus, we need things like a new mattress, a couch, some clothes, and to fix the car’s AC. This doesn’t include doing things around here to make the place more comfortable for us like redoing the carpet and floors if we were to stay here indefinitely, which I doubt Jesse would mind. He may be noisy at times, but he’s easygoing in that he pretty much wouldn’t care what we did with the place as long as we weren’t hurting anything. Tom said that except for the dentist, these things are insignificant, but to me, they still add up to be enough of a cost.

One thing’s for sure and that’s that if we make it, we’ll never leave NorCal. I wasn’t kidding when I said I wouldn’t move long distance ever again without a ton of money. Sometimes I wish we were in the east where it rains more and dogs are house pets. I get sick of the extreme night/day temperature fluctuations and how it’s customary in the West to toss your dogs outside and forget about them. And these are always big dogs with big barks. Rarely does anyone out here get small dogs. I guess I should just be glad that if we have to remain anywhere, it’s here. This is the best climate I’ve lived in so far. A little dry at times, and a little cold in the winter, but it’s nice not to have the killer winters Massachusetts and Oregon did or the killer summers Arizona had. I’d still take extreme heat over extreme cold, though.

Because it was quiet two days in a row, now three, we put the note to Jesse on hold for now. I’m sure they’ll be a problem again soon enough, but for now, we’re holding off till he starts taking off more often again, which I think he would at some point.

Oddly enough, though, we didn’t see any vehicles or the dogs when we came and went earlier today.

We picked up our mail. I finally got one of my prizes from Kiwi which was the lotion. Then we went to the drugstore where we found they had a surprisingly large selection of incense, some of which I’d never heard of like Caribbean Nights. At just a dime a stick, I got 50, 10 of which are patchouli, one of my favorites. Lastly, we grabbed some things from the grocery store.

Oh, shit. There goes the dogs right now. There’s one that barks much more than the other and so it’s the usual one I’m hearing right now. I knew the peace wouldn’t last long.

MONDAY, JANUARY 19, 2009 I know I should be a good little bum, sit on my ass, and let my actions match our income. But I was never one for sitting still. So, on account of my allergies acting up, I decided to do some serious cleaning and rearranging around here. Like I said, whether my days are numbered or not, why not be as comfortable as possible? I ended up working pretty hard on several different things. What will my reward be for it all? Oh, the usual, I suppose. More poverty, a little bit of pain, maybe even some real pain. After all, I wouldn’t be a true human being in God’s eyes if I could have a day off from pain and struggling now, would I?

Tom doesn’t think things will end up as bad as in the motel, but Tom never thinks anything bad will happen until it actually does. I myself don’t know for sure if things will get that bad, but I certainly see potential there. Instead, the phone could ring with a fairly well-paying job for Tom. It’s just that I know God wouldn’t be that kind to us. He never lets anything be that simple for us, but yes, a simple solution that would certainly be a quick fix to the problem would be for him to get a decent job. But I know that if we survive, he’s going to be one of the ones to get the $9-$10 job.

He says we could find a way to make it, and worst-case scenario, buy something in a retirement community when he’s 55 as opposed to building something on a large piece of land. But that’s just the thing I keep questioning. I’m sick of struggling to “try to find a way” to make it. I just want to be allowed to simply live without having to fight tooth and nail to do so. If this is about God punishing me for trying to take my life once upon a time, then He should’ve thought about that when He allowed the circumstances to occur that led me to take such actions.

I wouldn’t mind living in a retirement community so long as Granny’s not going to leave her dogs outside just a few feet from our place all the time, play musical car doors with a ton of company, or allow her unruly grandkids to scream outside for hours every weekend, but I still don’t see how we’ll ever have the credit or the money to buy anything. Maybe a falling-down dump in the middle of a crime-infested area of the city, but that’s about it.

We talked about renting a bigger, newer place to hole up in till he turns 55, yet once again and despite the fact that rents are dropping, I don’t see how we could afford to do that either. And even if Jesse refuses to shut his dogs up, I don’t know that I’d want to. Yeah, I hate being cramped in this little old dive, but I’d hate to give up this kind of seclusion and privacy, and I’d really hate to trade 2 dogs in for 10, and 1 motorcycle in for a million car stereos, plus screaming kids, plus whatever other shit people can think of to be loud, rude and obnoxious. So it would take a hell of a lot of money and a hell of a good deal, both of which I’m virtually certain wouldn’t be the case. It’s just not in our cards for something that good to happen. That 9K win was a fluke as were the last two years in Oregon where we didn’t have money problems at all.

The rent is paid up till February, so I still have some time to decide whether or not I’m willing to struggle on in life like a little bum.

Oh, God, can’t I at least have insurance to get my teeth fixed? Oh, wait a minute. That’s too much to ask for. How dare me!

And how dare I even think of asking Him to help Tom with his swollen feet either. We’re still not sure what’s causing it, but his feet and calves are horribly swollen. He can barely get his flip-flops on. There’s no way he could get his sneakers on, that’s for sure. But would God care to help him if I asked Him to? Why should He? He’s got more important things to do like making sure people get away with murder, letting the rich get richer, and helping to ensure that gays don’t get any rights while more and more of them go to the almighty black man.

Make sure the hungry stay that way too, God!

Incredibly, we heard not one single bark yesterday, but that’s become the new fluke. I’m sure that today they’ll be going crazy. Especially if Jesse takes off somewhere. And I’m on days now, so that alone will make it noisier. We’re going to leave him the note either way and let him know just what goes on around here when he does take off, but like I said, I don’t know if he’ll care to do anything about it. I guess that will depend on how badly he wants us to stay here, cuz he certainly can’t know that we’re not in a position to move.

The afternoons have been gorgeous. We’ve been able to open windows from around 11:00 – 4:00. Had we known it’d be this warm this soon we wouldn’t have gotten so much propane. I don’t ever remember January being this warm in Arizona.

SUNDAY, JANUARY 18, 2009 I decided to make a new journal on Kiwi and mark it private. Kiwi’s still a bit more social than I’d like, and I don’t have many happy things to write about lately anyway.

I’m still depressed, frustrated and even pissed. There’s no doubt in my mind that there’s a curse on us that can never be lifted. Funny how there’s always something tripping us up. We’d have been okay had the propane not run out sooner than anticipated. Every single fucking time we get ahead, we get the carpet yanked from under our feet. Every solution we come up with turns out to be nothing but a temporary fix. Like what we’re going to do later on today and that’s put up 3 of the Tonners on eBay. I don’t care for these 3 much and would sell them anyway, but just the fact that we have to sell them and can’t sell them simply because we want to really pisses me off. It’s just a matter of time before we run out of things to pawn and sell. Well, I’m tired of selling our lives away and working our asses off just to be dirt-poor! And even if we could know that we’d have just enough to pay for our necessities, do I really want to do that and rent someone else’s tiny dump for the rest of my life? I’m surer than ever that we’ll never own anything of our own. I thought of asking my folks to will their condo to us. We’d sell it, of course, and get a detached house, but I figure they’d probably want the drama queen to sell it and give most of the money to her kids.

As for the dogs, I’ve had it. I’ve totally had it. So the next time Tom drives out he’s going to leave the note I should’ve given him months ago since he’s too hard to talk to. Whether my days are numbered or not, I want the peace and quiet we came here for! Or at least a chance at getting it back. I’m tired of this fucking bullshit that’s been going on now just about every day for 3 months!

SATURDAY, JANUARY 17, 2009 So Tom says paying the rent isn’t the dire crisis I think it is. Yeah, I know. And we’re still supposed to get rich, right? Right? Isn’t that why the horses lost yesterday? Okay, so we only put a few bucks into the account to begin with, but a loss is a loss, isn’t it? And what an amazing coincidence that what passes with flying colors in testing suddenly fails us when it’s used for real. This convinces me all the more that we’re not meant to have money. I don’t know why God would want us to struggle on and to suffer in any way, but I guess He must have his reasons. Whatever the reason is, I don’t know that I want to live to pay next month’s rent in the first place. This is no longer just about what’s going on now, but about our inevitably bleak future as well. I don’t want to struggle for another 30-40 years. I don’t want to rent other people’s old dumps all our lives. So what if we can pay the rent this month? It’d still be just a matter of time before we couldn’t. Like I’ve said before, it’s only the bad places I can’t get out of. We’re going to run out of money at some point because this place is quiet overall. Jesse’s dogs and engines may annoy me at times, but compared to other places I’ve lived in, it’s dead quiet here, so why would I be allowed to live in peace for any real length of time? That’s why we lost the Maricopa house, too. Despite the stress the blacks and their corrupt pig pal put on us, it was fairly quiet there and I loved that house, which was ours. Peace is just as much of a no-no for me as money is, so I’m not the least bit surprised at what’s going on here. I knew when they laid him off that it was the beginning of the end and not some road to a better life.

No, I’m not going to ask my folks for help either. Maybe if they were younger and had more money I would, but they can’t be around to save us forever, and they have their own shit to deal with. I know that if we killed ourselves they’d be hurt and maybe even angry for a while, but I would think deep down that they’d understand as best they could for someone who has no concept of what it’s like to be poor.

I exercised out of habit, but I’m not sure I can work on my story. It’s hard to bring myself to work on something I may not be around to finish, but I guess I will simply because I don’t have much else to do other than wait for the inevitable to play itself out.

Later…

I haven’t wanted to drop dead this badly in a long time. I’d still be scared, but not like in the motel. The sicker I get of living and the more our chance for security slips away, the more ready I feel. Sure I’d miss certain things like my hobbies, but I’ve listened to enough music in my life, I’ve sung enough songs, collected enough dolls, watched enough movies and written enough stories. But what I’m sick of doesn’t even come close to comparing to what I’d miss. I’m sick of struggling, I’m sick of the barking every single fucking place we live. I’m sick of the simplest of things in life being totally out of reach simply because it’s me who wants them. I’m sick of living in old beat-up dumps with doors that don’t close right or that don’t stay open as is the case with the bedroom door here. I’m sick of the fact that nothing excites me anymore. Nothing has seemed new and exciting for a while now. Not sex, not new clothes, not traveling… nothing. Instead, the only thing that seems to excite me is the thought of escaping life’s bullshit. To have no more teeth pain, no more periods, no more struggling to keep weight off. My eyes would never have to get any worse, not that I could ever afford an optometrist any more than a dentist. I’d never get any older or any grayer. I’d never have to deal with menopause. I’d never have to spend another minute wondering who will take care of us when we get too old to care for ourselves. I’d never have to be inconvenienced again by a sleep disorder. My ear would no longer be a problem, and of course, I wouldn’t have to deal with it should the lump in my breast be cancerous as much as I doubt it is since I doubt I’d ever have insurance before I was 65. There’d be no more pawning and selling things just to never get ahead. No more worrying about losing the roof over our heads. No more having to do without simple everyday luxuries like a full-size washer that’s always hooked up or a dishwasher. No more being so cramped in you can only walk around one side of the bed and part of the foot. No more living on someone else’s stained carpet, since we could never have our own again.

Not even winning a grand would be exciting at this point. It would only be a temporary fix. Our security would only be on the line once again as soon as the money ran out, and we certainly wouldn’t have our dream house either. The only way to “security” would be to kill someone and be sure to get caught for it. That’d be sure to keep us off the streets! Ain’t life just grand?

Do I wish I could suddenly snap my fingers and have my dream of owning a modest house where we don’t have to hear other people’s dogs be gone? No, as I don’t see the point in that. It would only be replaced with some other impossible dream. As I said, the dream doesn’t have to be anything far-fetched. It only has to be mine. Being mine automatically disqualifies it from becoming possible.

If the house we had in Phoenix had been a little nicer and we’d had normal, civilized neighbors, we’d still be there today, and the house would be all paid for. But God wanted us to suffer instead.

Tom pointed out that things might’ve been worse had we remained in Phoenix, and that a zillion different other things could’ve gone wrong. This is true. A meteorite could’ve smashed through the roof. I could’ve had a child rather than a miscarriage. We could’ve become seriously ill or injured. But the odds of these uncool things happening wouldn’t have been likely. We’ll never know, though, what would have happened. I only know what did happen and that something up there definitely does NOT have our best interest at heart and is NOT guiding us to the better life we had so hoped for here. Since we left Phoenix, and since we lost the Maricopa house, maybe we should’ve stayed in Oregon. It’d be cold, snowy, noisy, and I wouldn’t have insurance till I was 65, but at least the rent would be half of what it is here. Even if they laid him off, I don’t see how we’d be at risk of ending up on the streets.

Boy, was I wrong about God! Who the hell was I kidding in thinking I had a friend in Him? And how could I have been so damn naive to think that if I just prayed and did all the necessary steps I possibly could towards achieving our goals and dreams, we would eventually succeed? Well, guess what? There is no home for us. Not in this life.

Today I’m not going to bother doing much of anything. No sweeping, no cleaning, no nothing. I’ll just write and listen to music here and there. Hey, if we’re going to have to live like bums I might as well act like one for once and just be totally lazy.

Right now the dogs are going crazy and I’ve had enough! We can’t kill them because Jesse has no set schedule, yet I’d like a shot at getting some peace during the last couple weeks of my life, and so as soon as that cock roars back on its motorcycle, I intend to call up there and see if I can get him to at least move the damn things if he’s not going to take them inside. I’d rather him tell us he’s not going to do shit about them than to have never tried anything at all.

FRIDAY, JANUARY 16, 2009 Paula says I’ve changed a lot. I don’t like gabbing on the phone like I used to and am just different in many ways, she says, not that this is a bad thing, but just something she’s noticed.

I think it’s normal to change throughout the years. Our lives change, our interests and priorities change, and therefore, so do we.

Our lives are worse than ever yet that’s not quite the case at the same time. Not that I didn’t have my share of stressful, frustrating and sometimes depressing issues to have to deal with in the past, but this is different. This is about our survival. Things may’ve happened in the past to upset me in various ways, but never was my life on the line either before or after meeting Tom as it has been on and off for the last few years. The closest I came to that was when I was smoking and having bad asthma attacks, but that still wasn’t the same as this. Month after month I sit and wonder if we’re going to make it. I feel totally helpless as we wait and wait and wait some more.

Tom still thinks he’s going to get a job this month with affordable insurance. That’s pretty hopeful in a country that doesn’t seem to be hiring anywhere. But that’s just Mr. Naively Optimistic for you! I’ve never heard of anyone in their 50s that was this optimistic. Never. Overconfident or not, though, we did have a small profit yesterday which he says he knew would be slow, but not this slow. I still don’t see how getting aggressive with it can change fate, though. We were meant to be poor as much as he was meant to have hazel eyes and I was meant to be short. Some things really just don’t change, and struggling to make something be that’s not meant to be is only going to make you all the more frustrated.

I really hope Jessie’s in Vegas now. It’s -16º in Massachusetts now!

Later…

I keep hoping for a miracle, but I don’t really expect one. The phone could ring right now and Tom could get an adequate or even a good-paying job, and we could be saved if only for a little while. Or his program could quit giving us false hope and really start making some money for once if only just enough to get by on.

But is this really realistic to hope for? I guess that will depend on whether or not we’re meant to make it. Either way, we’re not going to die before February. Of that much, I’m sure of. And since I don’t know whether or not life will continue for us after the 31st, I’m going to try not to dwell on it. But when I can’t help it, and when I start to feel sad over the things I’d miss in life, I’ll remind myself of the bad things I won’t miss at all. For now, though, I’m going to try to live like we have all the security in the world and a God that doesn’t hate us enough not to save us somehow, some way.

And that means following through with the story idea that came to me in my dreams, as most of them do. A couple of nights ago when I had all kinds of depressing dreams, I was in jail, and Kate Jackson, of all people, was my defense lawyer. I don’t know what it was I did or if I was really guilty or not, but it spawned an idea that could stem from what I’ve got so far. Maybe one character could be framed for the murder that another character really committed for insurance money or something like that.

Amazingly enough, my journal is still on the ‘most popular’ list. Now that I know it’s determined by unique IP hits, I’m not sure why. While there are at least a dozen or so people that I know that may have this link, I’m guessing it’s fellow OLSers. I doubt my pal Sherri is the only one who’s ever been curious about it.

It’s 81º in here and I have the fan on and the windows open. Meanwhile, it’s 12º where Jessie might be and where Paula definitely is! LOL

THURSDAY, JANUARY 15, 2009 When I first got up last night I couldn’t figure out why I was still so tired. This is when Tom told me he broke even that day on our “bread and butter” track in which he had a few brains that had been tested and qualified for. This is a SoCal track that has passed every day in testing. For it to conveniently break even when we suddenly play it for real confirms all the more that we’re not meant to have money.

Then I looked at the clock and saw that I had only slept 4½ hours. If I had any doubts left about Tom being totally brainwashed by this program, they’re gone now. Depressed, I fell back into a sleep that was full of all kinds of dismal dreams.

The next time I opened my eyes it was 3 AM. I vowed then and there that if we survived, I would make this our “dream home.” We can’t enlarge it, we can’t modernize it, we can’t own it, but we can make it more comfortable. Tom’s always going to tell me his program is “right there” no matter what. All I can do is accept the fact that our dream house is just that – a dream. Especially the kind I want. For whatever reason, God decided I shouldn’t have my dreams come true in this life. I don’t know, maybe in a past life I cheated someone out of their dreams and I’m paying for it here in this life. I’ll never know why. I just know the facts.

I wracked my brain trying to figure out a way to make it on the streets, but with this schedule disorder and my inability to handle stress, heat and cold that well, I know I never could do it. And where would I stay all day while he was at work? Shelters only let you stay there at night. It sucks too, for at this point, the streets would probably be my first choice because then I’d no longer have to worry about ending up homeless. I would think I would feel a sense of freedom and that a burden was lifted from me to no longer have to worry about losing something I no longer had to lose.

But death is the only alternative to the streets. Should we make it somehow, I’m going to try my best to forget about owning a new place and make the best of this little trailer. It’s secluded and it’s peaceful when the dogs are quiet, so why not? It’s small and old but there are things we could do over the years, as money permits it, that’d make it more comfortable. I’ll just have to try to look at the bright side of staying here. Owning a home doesn’t have the value it used to have, we don’t have to fix things that break, and so it’s a lot less complicated in some ways if we just remain renters.

In a few years, maybe I’ll get to a dentist. Then in a few years after that, maybe we can pick out our own floors and carpets. That’d make it homier and like the place was more ours. I’ll get rid of a lot of the dolls to make more room in here since it’s only 500 square feet.

If there’s anything I’ve learned in life, it’s not to bother wasting time struggling for what isn’t meant to be. I wouldn’t have this sleep disorder to prevent me from working outside of the house if we weren’t meant to struggle. I would love to work from home. But most of them aren’t legit and require you to drive to people’s houses. Not very easy for someone who doesn’t drive or live on a bus route. Besides, selling things door to door isn’t the way to go no matter what. Maybe 50 years ago it was, but not today. Today most folks don’t appreciate random house calls, especially by salespeople. And the few good home jobs that are out there don’t exactly advertise themselves. Those jobs are usually obtained through people we personally know.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 14, 2009 Another wish has been granted! Ah, the comfort of peace of mind. Two down, one to go and that’s the biggie (Tom’s program).

It was 8:30 yesterday morning. I was at the computer when I heard a big truck and hoped it was the propane people. Then I said to myself, like they’re going to actually keep their word by being here first thing like they said!

Then I reminded myself of one simple fact. We live in the middle of the forest. Nothing that close wouldn’t be coming here. And it was! So now we don’t have to worry about running out. I don’t like that it was $200, but it’s nice not to have to worry about that for a while. Hopefully, this will last 2-3 months, and then next time for the rest of the year. Of course, I still don’t know if we’re going to make it, so I’m trying to just enjoy the moment and not worry whether or not we’re going to be able to pay February’s rent. I mean, I’m not stupid. I know chances are we’ll lose the place and have to kill ourselves to keep from slowly dying off in misery on the streets. I know chances are Tom’s overestimating the program. And I know chances are all the prayers in the world won’t save us. If whatever’s up there didn’t want us to struggle, we wouldn’t be. Money may’ve been in my parents’ cards and other people’s cards, but it’s not for us. It’s just not for us. Money’s not going to save us, it’s going to kill us. It’s only a matter of time. At least that’s what will probably be the case anyway. But for now, I’m going to live like I have another 40 years or so!

We even took a break from dieting for a few days. I’m already up to 133, but that’s okay. It’s worth it.

Yesterday was beautiful in the afternoon. We had the windows open.

Maine wants to legalize gay marriage. What for? So the bigots can take it away?

I won a couple of writing contests on Kiwi. Every week they choose a winner who’s reviewed articles and commented on them, so that got me extra points!

Later…

My heart says I want to live and be happy just like anyone would. My head says, get out! Just get out! You can’t make be what isn’t meant to be, and in your case, money isn’t meant to be. So just kill yourself before you die of poverty. This isn’t about not having enough to buy a house of our own. This is about not having enough to pay the fucking rent. I’m tired of our survival being on the line! I’m tired of “fighting” to live. I’m sick of being in pain, without insurance, and unable to see a dentist. I’m sick of it all!

TUESDAY, JANUARY 13, 2009 I hope tomorrow (now today) is a much better day than yesterday. There was some good in it in that I won 12 oz. of coffee in a monthly sweep. I chose the decaf Southern Pecan. It was either that or the Kona Macadamia Nut or Colombian Supreme. Anything that isn’t dark or French roast! Yup, the less we need something, the more likely we are to get more of it! I still have that Cinnamon Crumb Cake coffee I won, plus a Wal-Mart sample, plus what’s still in the canister. That would be the Caramel Truffle.

The other good thing was that it was the warmest it’s been in 6 weeks. It almost hit 70º out there and almost got up to 90º in here. The heat is what woke me up. Then when I saw that it was just after 3:00 and the fucking propane guy still hadn’t come, I was too pissed to go back to sleep for a few hours. There’s always a problem with this company. Always! Tom agrees he’s had enough too, as 4 out of the 5 times we’ve called them out there’s been a problem. Usually, it’s a gas leak, but this time around the retard in the office screwed up with telling the delivery guy how much propane he’d need for the day’s deliveries, so we and a few others have been put off till morning. I gotta see someone show up to believe it!

Meanwhile, Tom found a company that will come out at scheduled intervals and keep your tank topped off, then send you a bill like a regular utility service, which I’d definitely prefer as opposed to this call-us-when-you-need-us bullshit in which you have to wait days for anyone to show up. We’re going to look into this, but hopefully we won’t need to for 6 weeks. At that point, if we fill the tank up completely, it should last the rest of the year, should we have the luxury of surviving it in the first place.

Speaking of which, the heat just came on for the first time in nearly 18 hours, so by some miracle, we do still have propane, even though the gage says we shouldn’t (ah, finally a liar of a good kind). Had we been up in Oregon (although they use heating oil there and not propane) we’d have run dry before the weekend even hit.

Tom could take the 5-gallon propane tank that’s in the shed that we used on the land up in Oregon and get us some propane if need be, but I sure hope he won’t have to. The guy has enough shit to do!

We’ve been keeping the living room at 65º and using the portable heater in the bedroom to help boost it up to 72º. After we finally do get propane, we’ll put the portable away and reset the main heater at 70º, where it’s usually at.

I did the dishes I had soaking in the sink for the last two days, but am putting off my shower for now. I haven’t worked out either, so I don’t get all sweaty. For now, I’ve freshened up with wet wipes. The dishes consisted mostly of mugs and silverware than anything else.

Of course I started to get mad at God and was like, “You mean to tell me you can answer the prayers of millions of bigots who prayed that you let Prop 8 pass so they could legally discriminate against gays, but you won’t let us have our damn propane?!?!”

But if they come before we run out, then He will have answered my prayers, and so it’s too soon to jump down His throat.

Getting propane isn’t my biggest concern. My biggest concern is the usual bullshit and that’s wondering if we’re going to make it. I hate living on the edge like this and wondering each month if we’re going to be able to pay the rent! It’s like this is our true calling in life; to struggle as if we were lazy bums who just sat around on our asses day in and day out. I’m sick of struggling to get ahead just to get kicked back!

If his program doesn’t work out and no one gives him a job, we can only last so many more months. As it is I don’t know if we can make February’s rent without having to work at it, but I’m tired of having to “work at it!” Especially to the degree that we have been lately. And all for a guy who doesn’t need the money. It’s just no way to live. I’m tired of fighting to survive with a few months off here and there. Yet Tom’s always been so naively optimistic that I’m afraid he’s just being overconfident and just kidding himself where the program’s concerned. Either that or cruelly teased from above. Seriously, though, I never met anyone this old that was this confident! Usually, we grow out of that in our 20s as by then we realize that no, we can’t necessarily do whatever we want in life. Not even if we put our minds to it, have a positive attitude, and take all the necessary steps within our means to achieve our goals and dreams. So despite the many hours of work he’s put into the program, and despite how knowledgeable he is with numbers and horseracing, I don’t see how it could work out simply because it’s what we want, and most people just don’t get what they want in life, like it or not. Also, if I’m right about a lifelong money curse being on us, then nothing we do would generate it no matter how smart we were and no matter how hard we slaved our asses off. People want to believe they’re in the driver’s seat of their lives because it’s scary to admit otherwise, and in some ways we are. However, in most ways, it comes down to fate. People also say that we all just have to make the best of whatever life hands us. Well, I don’t see how I could “make the best” of life on the streets if that’s what we’re going to be handed.

As for the dogs, they went on a couple of barking fits for a few minutes, and he heard the motorcycle too, but nothing major. Yeah, I knew Mr. Harley Man up there wasn’t working by the time 8:00 rolled around and it was still quiet. It wouldn’t surprise me if the barking escalated once I got more onto days.

MONDAY, JANUARY 12, 2009 And now one of the Staceys is gone, too. Weird. Just weird. I never would’ve contacted them again as it only took one message to send the link and I never expected a reply, but hey, they’re the ones putting themselves out by denying their accounts, freaked out over the story/journals or not.

It’s strange how one can harbor so much anger and hatred for no apparent reason, and even after all these years, too. Some people really never change.

It still cracks me up when I picture her reading certain things (if she has), but it’s my journal, so I will write what I want. She doesn’t have to read it either. I only gave her that choice by sending the link, same as Tammy.

Not much going on. Sherri, the OLSer who told me she read my journal, PM’d me today thrilled that she got mentioned in my journal (sort of). I was like, wow, I didn’t know she was still reading new entries as they came in. Cool! She said it didn’t take long to read as she is a speed reader.

SUNDAY, JANUARY 11, 2009 Now this is funny! Definitely not something I’ll post online any more than I did the first time I mentioned contacting Stacey or anyone associated with her. Hanna’s gone. I mean totally gone from Facebook altogether. Could I really be the reason? I mean, that’s a little extreme, isn’t it? Why not just block me? Why disappear altogether? But she must’ve deactivated because I would think that I’d still be able to look her up even if she blocked me. All a block should do is keep a user from sending you messages or trying to befriend you. Yet it’s as if Hanna S never existed on Facebook! All that because of me? The journals and stories must’ve really freaked Stacey out. Would a person learning that they’re a character in a story written by someone they once knew really freak them out that much, even if it was written by someone they disliked? Maybe so. Especially since I killed her off in the end! LOL, but it’s just a story. I’d be shocked and maybe feel a bit weird about it too, but that’s about it so long as my real name and address weren’t used. Actually, they could use my name, so long as it wasn’t connected to my address in any way. I altered her name and address in the book.

I still can’t believe Hanna deactivated! It was no doubt per orders of Stacey, although I never would’ve contacted her or any other S again as there wouldn’t have been any reason to after the link was sent to all the Ss I could find in the Phoenix area. I only went to study her picture again out of curiosity to see if I would be more or less convinced there could be a relationship. If I hadn’t, I’d never have known she was gone.

Also out of curiosity, I went and checked, and the two Stacey and James are still there, but I don’t know if it’s them.

I wonder if Stacey read the entire story or any of the journals. Once again, that’s as hard to guess as is the possibility of my parents reading it, but for different reasons. As with my folks, she could be naturally curious to see what’s been said about her. On the other hand, if she’s still harboring this strange hatred for me for whatever reason, she may be freaked out and disgusted to read it. When someone’s sure they don’t want anything to do with you, usually that would include your journals and stories. Stacey definitely hasn’t changed a bit. I mean, by now I would have thought she’d have gotten over whatever it was that I supposedly did to make her dislike me so much other than pull pranks on those who were harassing me.

Of course, thanks to the black bitch I start to get a little paranoid, and Stacey strikes me as the type to go to the pigs about this, too. But I know I didn’t do anything wrong. I never wrote: I’m going to hunt down and kill Stacey S, then published it online or sent that in the mail to her. And all the cop connections in the world, if she has any, couldn’t do a damn thing to make it look like I did anything wrong, so I will laugh instead of worry. I didn’t mean to shock or confuse the kid, but the idea of Stacey finding out about journals and stories is funny. Whether or not she reads any of it, I’ll never know.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 10, 2009 I still don’t know if the propane will last till they refill us on Monday, but we’re on a winning streak! Day one has brought us a small profit which was within an inch of being a fairly good size profit had it not been for some unusual circumstances to arise. As long as it’s still ahead this time next weekend. That’s what matters more than what happens along the way.

Another baby products win! And it’s all stuff I could use myself, so that’s nice. Lotion, shampoo, conditioner, bubble bath.

I got up at 6 PM again and the dogs were going off, then stopped a few minutes later. Tom said he swears they sense when I get up and my hatred for them because it had been quiet all day till right before I got up, just like the last few times. I believe this, too!

FRIDAY, JANUARY 9, 2009 Got up at 6 PM. Tom said that the dogs were quiet all day, but must sense when I’m getting up because a half-hour earlier, they went off for 15 minutes, then Jesse returned on the motorcycle right as I was getting up. I reminded him that the dog curse is on me. Yup, I’m the one who brought the noise curse into this relationship!

I’m now down to 132 pounds. The 120s are now within my reach! I’ve settled into a comfortable exercise routine where I run 15 minutes a day which is about a mile. Many sites recommend 30-60 minutes of exercise a day, but a recent study shows that just 10 minutes a day is all you really need. Well, it works for me! Most of the weight loss, though, comes from having around 1000 calories a day.

Patches was telling me about lupus which she has and the symptoms that go with it and how she’s had chemo treatments and all that. Unless she’s making it up just for attention, which doesn’t seem to be the case, it sure is one nasty disease to live with, but most cases are manageable from what I’ve read.

And I still have this little lump in the lower side of my left breast, towards my arm. I first noticed it back in the motel. But it hasn’t grown and most lumps aren’t cancerous, so I’m not worried about it. I have no bad vibes, and even if I did, I’m not insured right now so there’s nothing I can do about it. And who knows when and if I ever will be again?

Patches is the one that told me to write the number 8 down on a piece of paper and put it in a wallet or leave it around the house as it will generate money. Tom put it in his wallet. I won the $75 so far, even if we have to wait a few weeks for it, so hopefully it will help with other things, too.

Tomorrow’s the big day as Tom feels he’s done enough testing. Once again, though, we won’t know anything concrete for a week.

So we’re not only hoping for the best where his program is concerned but also that the propane will make it till Monday and that nothing delays them from getting out here. To help ensure that it lasts, we’re showering every other day instead of every day. I hate this shit, though, I really do! I’m sick of the poor spells! I really am. If this program doesn’t work then there’s a damn good chance we’ll be dirt poor all our lives as there’s just so little chance of me winning big, and his age will probably keep him from making good money at some job somewhere if anyone ever gives him one again.

I sent Tammy a message on Facebook asking that she wish Lisa a happy birthday for me when it’s time. She hasn’t replied. I don’t know how often she checks her mail, but I do appreciate not hearing back from her as I don’t want to discuss it, I just want to wish Lisa a happy birthday.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 8, 2009 So far we’ve received 1 out of 3 wishes, and so yes, we got our check today. We then got groceries which cost a fortune since most of it was non-edibles that we needed.

Tom called the propane company today and while they said they’d try to get out tomorrow, it’s unlikely that they’ll make it. So we’re on for Monday and hoping that wish #2 is granted and that we don’t run out before they get here.

Wish #3 will begin on Saturday. Yup, that’s when the program will be raced for real and no longer just a test. Tom feels confident that after a month of extensive testing, we shouldn’t make much at first, but then we should gradually build up. But the more it builds, the faster it’ll happen. I hope to hell it really does work if only because he’s been working 12-15 hours a day at it!

I’ll admit that while Tom assures me the program will work and that we’re in an entirely different situation than the last time it failed us because he’s not under the kind of pressure he was at the motel, it’s still scary having to rely on something that’s never worked for us before just to pay the rent. We could sell a few more collectibles I don’t really care for all that much, but we can only sell and pawn so much, you know? I sure hope to hell he’s right because if he’s not, chances are excellent that we’ll be pawning our lives away, dirt poor till the day we die, for my chances of winning big aren’t that great, and his chances of making money at some job isn’t that great either due to his age.

When I asked Tom why he’s so sure that this is it as far as his program goes, he said because he’s never done such extensive testing on it before. Before we were under so much more pressure and we jumped the gun, thus causing it to fail.

Being laid off certainly does give a person more time to fiddle with things, that’s for sure.

But I see a number of things that could go wrong and how easily we could end up pushed onto the streets if he’s wrong, not that we wouldn’t kill ourselves first. He assures me that worst-case scenario we’re 5 days late with the rent, and there’s no way Jesse’s going to evict us by the 5th. But then what about next month? And the month after that? What if he never finds a job? What if the government doesn’t extend his unemployment even though he says they definitely would if there still aren’t any jobs?

I don’t want to spend the rest of our lives fighting tooth and nail just for the bare necessities! I’m sick of struggling to survive! And I’m tired of being in pain too, never able to get to a dentist.

To help ease my worries, Tom just came in and showed and explained to me that the test results of the last week alone show that a few bucks would’ve profited over $100. Playing a bit more aggressively would’ve made over a grand.

Well, we’ll try our best and then the rest is up to fate. Trying our best is really all we can do. I soooo do hope my prayers and spells will help it work out! It has to. It just has to! But as he pointed out, a day isn’t going to tell us much as opposed to a whole week.

Jesse was home all day, so the dogs were quiet.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 7, 2009 I left a note on my Facebook wall for Tammy to wish Lisa a happy birthday on the 20th, but haven’t decided if I want to send her a message yet. Again, do I want history to repeat itself? Do I want to deal with her trying to push me into religion? Do I want to deal with her eventually trying to get me to visit? Do I want to deal with her begging for money should we end up having any? Do I want to deal with her being a hypochondriac, the family drama, etc.? Do I even care about these people in the first place? I’m still not sure I do for if I did, wouldn’t I then be able to forgive her for unknowingly leading me to jail and the letter/call to Tom?

I still have a few days to consider sending the message, since I doubt she’d know I reactivated and updated my profile unless she’s reading my journal which I also doubt. I just don’t want to send the wrong idea in wishing Lisa a happy birthday and get her thinking I’m ready to go back to regular communications with her as I am not. Perhaps I can meet her halfway, though, and instead of never communicating or communicating regularly, we can say hi on holidays and birthdays and things like that.

Thanks to Tammy – yes, it’s only because of her that I’ve been checking out Facebook more in-depth – I was amazed at the people I found in various states. I don’t know that they’re really the people I once knew, but nonetheless, I found it a coincidence that not only was there a Stacey S listed, but a James and Hanna as well. James is her husband from what my research at a couple of other sites showed, and I think Hanna’s her daughter. That name is always connected with Stacey and James, and so that’s why I think it could be her. The daughter would be about 15 now, old enough for a Facebook account with a parent or guardian’s permission.

Anyway, Hanna had a picture with a friend, and of course I couldn’t say for sure whether or not it’s really Stacey’s daughter. I guess there could be a resemblance, and the age does seem right. Stacey and James, however, list no pictures. I couldn’t resist sending them my journal link and thanking Stacey for inspiring one of my stories! LOL

Tom’s brother David was also listed, and there was a Lisa G, along with a Jennifer O, Mary C, and probably a few others I’m forgetting to mention. The only one of these that included a picture was Jennifer. It was very small and I couldn’t see her face, but the body type and coloring suggested it could be her. I didn’t send these people my journal link, but I sent some a friend request, and so if they check my profile page out of curiosity, they’ll see the link.

So now I’ve lost track of how many people I’ve personally known that may have access to my journal! Ha, ha, ha, ha! I don’t know why, but it’s just such a funny thought to me!

Now I just have to hope the following 3 things happen: 1. We get our check tomorrow. 2. We don’t run out of propane before we can get them out here (this time around we’re going to get 100 gallons rather than $100). 3. The program really works as it sure seems to in testing!

I’m so sick of the incompetence on Kiwi! I don’t get my survey points unless I beg for them, and now the prizes they assured me were sent last week, won’t be sent till the end of this week! Argh!

The dogs, like yesterday, waited for me to get up before going off, but there haven’t been any hour-long barking sprees that we know of. That probably won’t happen till I’m on days again with my shit luck. It’s strange that he’s there during the daytime lately but gone in the evenings.

Later…

It’s her. It’s definitely Stacey’s daughter. I didn’t think to check their friend list till just now to see if that’d give me any clues. Well, James has no friends and Stacey only has 4, none of which say they’re in Phoenix. Two are in Australia and the others don’t say where they are. But Hanna has dozens of friends, most of whom happen to be from Phoenix. Now that’s no coincidence! As with some members, I couldn’t view her profile or wall.

So assuming she’s still an active member, she’ll pass the message on to Stacey, if the Stacey and James I sent messages to weren’t the right ones and never got their own messages.

Thanks, Tammy. You finally did me a favor!

Once again, blacks have shown just how childish, unfair and violent they can be down in Oakland. I’m the first one to agree that corrupt cops are showing up more and more and need to be brought to justice. I also agree that they have a right to be angry that one of their “brothers” was shot in the back while lying face-down by a crooked cop. But to riot and take their anger out on innocent victims is totally wrong.

Why is it that when gays have demonstrations, they just have demonstrations, but when the blacks do, they go psycho? Yet people continue to cater to blacks and walk all over gays. Hmmm… what’s wrong with that picture?

There’s been a mystery roar detected in space that’s way interesting. Galaxies can emit a static hiss, but this roar is something new and no one knows what causes it. I wish I could travel to infinity and explore deep into the cosmos! It seems totally reasonable to assume that there is other intelligent life out there, but why haven’t we found each other? Tom thinks it’s cuz of the distance. Another great mystery to ponder, huh? Maybe in the afterlife, we are sent to other galaxies. After all, the afterlife has to be conducted somewhere, doesn’t it?

Thanks to so-called “role models” like Bristol Palin and Jamie Lynne Spears and their glorifying teen pregnancy, it’s no surprise the teen pregnancy rate is up again. What kind of mother “supports” their teenage knock-up like Sarah Palin did? I don’t understand how encouraging her to keep it and throw her life away before it’s even begun is being supportive. Shouldn’t she have demanded she either abort it, adopt it out or get the heck out and sink or swim on her own? Okay, so maybe abandonment wouldn’t be a good thing, but to support her makes no sense either.

This is how we end up with so much stupidity in the world. It seems to me that if you give your life up before you have a chance to grow, to learn, and to experience things, you have nothing to teach your children.

Many women in their teens and early 20s who were dumb enough not to use protection have said they wanted to “take responsibility for their mistake” by keeping the kid. I don’t get this either. To me, aborting it or giving it to a person or a couple who’s ready for a child and can afford one is taking responsibility. If you’re broke and not ready, wouldn’t that be more like punishing the child if you kept it? Why should the kid pay for your mistake?

As for Israel, I hope they kill ‘em all! At first I didn’t like the idea of them killing innocent children, but these so-called children would’ve only grown up just to be the same little terrorists.

Got a letter from Mary who says her letters may slow down because she’ll be busy over the next few months, Nathan’s going to be emailing me the link to his blog, and hopefully she’ll be able to email me herself soon.

That’d be great!

So I guess I won’t feel bad once I send the rest of my story to her because I was going to slow down too, due to the cost of stamps.

It’s still getting down into the upper 30s at night and I don’t like it at all. I miss summer!

MONDAY, JANUARY 5, 2009 Won another trip (sort of). You get to choose from several different states and countries. The problem is that I won the accommodations, but not the airfare. We may go ahead and pick the 2-night stay in Reno as that would be less than a two-hour drive. The hotel would be much fancier than the motel we were stuck at, but I don’t want to go somewhere just to go there. There’s no shopping spree or gambling credit involved, so I don’t know what we’re going to do. We have a year to decide. The Vegas package does include $1000 in gambling credit, but that’d be a 6-hour drive! I hate long drives and we don’t have our new luggage yet. Our old luggage pretty much went to hell and so we dumped it. At least I’d be going in style music-wise. I could plug the laptop or iPod right into the cigarette lighter. We checked plane tickets to Vegas and the cheapest we could get tickets, plus air/hotel transfers, would be for about $200, and this doesn’t count food. Also, the Sacramento airport isn’t that close to here. Oh, well. I still say I was on the “trip of a lifetime” between July ’07 – April ’08 and I’d rather not go anywhere but to our own home next time around! Yup, that’s looking better and better.

Another day of analyzing my Tammy feelings. My gut instinct still says not to bother. Things would be okay for a while, then someone would say or do something stupid, it would get totally blown out of proportion or misunderstood altogether, and then it would be just like old times all over again.

Sometimes I do feel a little guilty for rejecting her and I wonder if she may be crying and feeling hurt all because I can’t forgive her for something she insists she’s unaware of. And while Becky and Sarah were too young to really have developed much of a relationship, Lisa and I were close, and so I have thought of her over the years and wondered how she’s been.

But like it or not, people do change throughout the years. Their interests change, and their attitude, beliefs, opinions, and ways of doing things change. And so I am not the forgiving person I used to be. Period.

Just the fact that she denies making any calls or sending any letters, tells me she hasn’t changed at all. It’s sad too, but her problem and not mine. I could’ve made it mine by accepting her back into my life, but not wanting to give history a chance to repeat itself, I haven’t done so. That and because we’re so far away from each other and so different.

Like I said, she may’ve been clueless as to the neighbor’s shit. We didn’t even realize the extent of their obsession ourselves until it was too late. But she did send the letter to Tom at the Phoenix address right after we moved, telling him she hoped he’d get the letter forwarded to him and that she didn’t know exactly where we were but knew we were in Maricopa. Then she went on to threaten forthcoming charges for my threatening Bill and his life and to “inform” Tom that I had been in funny farms and was sending things to the house. I don’t remember her exact words and we didn’t care to save the letter, but Tom already knew about my past. Remember, I’m the one they’d chide for shamelessly spilling my life out to all that would listen! And the “things” I sent were family pictures I no longer wanted.

After the letter, she called Tom who, as he put it, just let her ramble. Then he said he told her that if we couldn’t get along, why bother having anything to do with each other then?

This was the last of the communication.

I don’t understand why she won’t admit the call and letter to Tom. I mean, what’s the big deal? I admitted my call and letter to Bill. So? It happened. We all make mistakes. We’re only human. But do I regret the call and letter? No, I do not, and I’ll be happy to admit that, too! I regret the repercussions, but that’s all I regret.

In many ways, I am the same, too. I’m still short, I still love music, I still love writing, and I still have my crazy laugh, but I don’t forgive like I used to and I sure as hell don’t forget. Should I feel differently in time, I know how to get a hold of her.

I’m glad she contacted me so I could give her my journal link, not knowing for sure if my folks gave it to her, but I also wish she never did. This way these mixed emotions wouldn’t have been stirred up like they have been.

Some say I should keep ignoring her, not just because of past conflicts but because we’ve done just fine without each other, while more say I should forgive her and move on. Well, maybe I’ll end up doing both. She may never fess up to the letter or call, but I do accept and realize that while she may or may not have called the pigs, she couldn’t have known that what she and or Bill were doing by running to the pigs would get the black welfare bums on my trail and me thrown in jail. So I may be able to forgive her for this, but not “move on,” so to speak. In other words, I can let go of the past to a degree, but I don’t know if I could ever return to regularly communicating with her. So yeah, I’m willing to let the past go for the most part as I certainly don’t hate her in any way. I’d leave people like Larry and Ronnie to sink or swim on their own, but if I were walking down the street and saw someone trying to mug Tammy or something like that, I would jump to her defense. So no, no seriously hard feelings of any kind at this point. Just a lack of desire to carry on as before.

For now, I hope she and the girls are doing well. As for Bill…sorry, but I don’t give a shit about him. Never liked him, never will. I would feel no different if he stubbed his toe as I would if he broke every bone in his body. He was a wife-beater and a child-beater and those are about the lowest on my list. And I don’t care if it was “just a slap” as opposed to a beating with a fist and so on and so forth. A beater’s a beater! And the bad childhood sob story doesn’t cut it either. My own childhood was no bowl of cherries, but I would never treat a child that way, and if I’d had a kid to which a man raised a hand, it would’ve only happened once for that man would not be alive afterward.

Got a letter from Mary. Not much happening on her end.

I was surprised when an OLSer told me she read my MD journal and found my life interesting. Yeah, really interesting! LOL. I figured some people would click the link, but what really surprised me is that while she didn’t read my stories as she likes to learn about different people from all walks of life, she read about 85% of the journal part. Both Tom and I were like – wow! That’d take all day if not more. There are over 200 entries there now and a lot of the bio chapters aren’t exactly short and sweet.

Were the dogs a problem today? Well, of course! Though it wasn’t as much of a circus as I thought it would be (probably because I slept through their prime time). Tom said there were 4 barking fits, one lasting up to 6 minutes. I heard a 5-minute barking spree myself after I got up, but there’s been nothing since 4:00.

I wish it were summer again! Not just because I hate winter, but because then they’ll probably switch back to barking more at night. Only Jesse will be there to do something about it, and there won’t be as much going on then to stir them up in the first place.

We’ve got complications where killing the dogs is concerned. Tom said Jesse’s brother was there at some point as he recognized the red pickup he drives from when they were stringing the phone wires.

After just two days of serious dieting and running (now more than a mile a day), I can get into the sports bra/tank I won! I’m no longer a large. I’m a medium now.

Got some samples in the mail, as usual, and a small win. Freezer bags with a vacuum sealer so you don’t get freezer burn.

Oh, I reactivated my Facebook account just in case I ever do win one of their prizes. If she annoys me, though I don’t think she will, I can always ignore her. This will also give me an idea as to whether or not she’s reading my journal, which I’m curious about. I accidentally “poked” her on Facebook trying to figure out what that feature was all about. Then I noted her to say that I wasn’t trying to pick on her or play with her head, but just trying to figure it out. I’m almost positive she would’ve replied to it and that’s when she’d have learned that I had deactivated the account.

SUNDAY, JANUARY 4, 2009 Huffs and puffs I ran more than a mile today! I’m hot, sweaty, and a bit tired, but I love the feeling after a long workout. After a shower, my energy will be restored. You know you worked out hard when you sweat between your fingers of all places!

I’ve done some more reflecting on the sister thing. Okay, so maybe she didn’t know about the default warrant. Hell, we didn’t know about it. But what happened still happened. And even if she’s telling the truth by saying it was Bill who called the cops, he couldn’t have told them where to go if it weren’t for her.

So I’m still okay with not forgiving her just yet and I don’t know that I ever can or will. That’s one of those things you can never know for sure. Maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow and feel differently. Maybe I will in 5 years. Maybe 10. Maybe never. I can only take it one day at a time.

For the longest time, I’ve believed that people should never be forgiven. Not for big things anyway, even if they didn’t mean to do anything wrong, or don’t think they did. I know most people believe that forgiveness is about moving on, but to me it’s giving the person a chance to screw you again.

I deactivated my Facebook account not just to make it harder for her to contact me, but mostly because I have no interest in it.

I am grateful to Tom for supporting me as he has and for letting me know that in his opinion, there is no right or wrong feeling and that it’s okay to do what I feel is best.

Even if what happened never happened at all, why associate with someone on the other side of the country that I have absolutely nothing in common with? Looking at her as just a person and not my sister, she’s someone I’d never be friends with, and so that’s enough to tell me that we should just continue keeping to ourselves.

Do I think she’s hurt? No, probably not. Pissed? Yeah, maybe a little. But I felt it best to be honest with her and risk upsetting her in any way than lie to both of us and resume a relationship that my heart simply wouldn’t be into. I don’t hate my sister, but I don’t love her either. Nor do I feel anything for her daughters or for my brother at this point in life. Call me cold, call me cruel, call me insensitive, call me selfish, but ice princess or not, this is how I feel.

Tom said it was quiet all morning. When I got up around noon, Jesse did his strange motorcycle thing again where he started it, then stopped it. Then a few minutes later he started it again and left. I heard a few barks as he was leaving, but nothing else since. Today’s definitely like old times and I’m enjoying it immensely and glad Tom can concentrate easier than I can on his programming work as tomorrow’s going to be rocking. Fortunately, I’ll be sleeping through the worst of it where my schedule is at right now.

The program is still being tested rigorously and is still passing like crazy. We’d have won a grand the other day, so he saw. Consistency matters more than big wins, though, as consistency can multiply itself quite well. It could still be a year or two until we can buy a land/house package.

Of course it would be a lot easier just to win this mansion that came into the sweeps site the other day. It’s actually in Sonoma which isn’t too far from here. We’d sell it right away since we couldn’t afford to pay the taxes on it, but a two-million-dollar house would give us plenty of money to get something else. Besides, I wouldn’t need anything as big as a mansion would be.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 3, 2009 Decided not to bother with colors here as it’s just a real pain in the ass. I’ll leave the colors to Kiwi.

Tom said there was a lot of barking this morning from 8:30 - 11:00, but not much after that.

Tammy replied saying she thought I’d have grown up, she didn’t send any letters or call the police, Bill did, and what black neighbors?

Hmmm… not sure what having “grown up” has to do with what happened and my feelings about it, but now I have to wonder if Tammy and my parents knew as much as I thought they did about what went on with the blacks.

Another confusing thing she said was, “You have no idea about my life or kids at all, only your made-up version.”

She’s right. I don’t have any idea. And this is because we haven’t been in touch for a decade and I haven’t cared. So what made-up version could I possibly have?

I said to Tom, “It was Tammy that called the pigs, wasn’t it?”

He said yes, and I said, “Well, she’s blaming that one on Bill, though I could swear I remember the pig that came to the house using the words, “your sister.”

Then Tom pointed out that while he was under the same impression I was as far as it being Tammy who called the cops (especially since she sent a letter addressed to Tom defending her abusive husband which I threatened by mail and by phone), you can’t trust what any cop says. This is true, too. Just about every cop I’ve ever known or heard others tell me about has been nothing but a lying, conniving, manipulative bastard. You know how the laws are. We’re not allowed to lie, speed or fail to use our signal lights when turning, but they can do whatever the hell they want, legal or not. And one of the things they love to do is tell bullshit stories.

I understand that I can never know for sure who did what and why. Someone suggested Bill was afraid of me, but I know better than that. He was the kind of guy who thought he could beat anyone, especially a woman. If he called the cops he didn’t do it out of fear, he did it out of spite.

I know I could hurt Bill, and these days I could probably kick my brother’s ass, and definitely Ronnie’s. But they could never be worth the money a plane ticket would cost, even if we were rich, or the time it would take to hop a plane, hunt them down, and then do whatever to them. But I know I wouldn’t hesitate if I could possibly run into them on the streets. This is why I would never go to my parents’ funeral. Even if I could control myself, they’d certainly start shit with me and I wouldn’t be about to just stand there and take it! Haven’t I done that enough in the past? So it would make no sense to go there, beat the shit out of them, then end up in jail for assault.

Anyway, I was under the impression that my family knew about my being in jail all along, although I didn’t know if they knew exactly why. There are a zillion different ways they could’ve found out. I figured that Tom’s family, who can’t keep their mouths shut about anything, might’ve been one way. So when I first sent them letters about it from Oregon, I thought they already knew.

Maybe Tammy really didn’t call the police, but just the fact that she said I threatened my nieces in her letter to Tom and won’t own up to it, makes me more sure that not having anything to do with each other is the right thing. We all exaggerate and even lie when we’re pissed at someone, but she didn’t need to go that far. I have always adored my nieces and was heartbroken over what they had to go through on account of their parents. I don’t blame them for anything for they were just kids caught between us adults and the shit that was going on with us.

Also, if she is innocent of calling the police, she’s still guilty of informing Bill as to our general whereabouts which pointed the pigs in our direction. They split before we moved, so the only way he could’ve found out was from her. I told her about the area in a letter to her right before I let Bill have it for his treatment of her and Lisa. Of course there’s also the possibility that they tracked us down through Tom’s family.

Again, I’ll never know for sure who did what, and the past can never be changed. However, we’re not talking about her accidentally breaking one of my dolls or spilling wine on my favorite blouse or flirting with my husband. This is about me losing half a year of my life and many thousands of dollars. Those involved could pay back the money we lost, but nothing can ever replace the time we lost together or undo the stress, depression, frustration and anger I went through at the time. So whether or not Bill’s more to blame than she ever was, this is a tough one to simply up and forgive, but she’s right when she says she’ll always be my sister. And I’ll always be hers even if we never speak again. As they say, we can change who are friends are, but we can’t change who are family members are.

A few people on Kiwi said I should forgive her. After all, said Patches, you came out alive and intact and seem pretty with it.

Brianna says she sees no harm in just acting like things are fine for the sake of getting along or lack of regret later.

I can sort of see Brianna’s point when she says “for the sake of getting along or lack of regret later.” However, it’s just as easy to end up regretting accepting someone back into our lives as well. I sure as hell regretted taking Larry back! My brother has a wonderful sense of humor and my heart went out to him when he lost his son. Yet one of the first things he told me when we first spoke in 1993 after a decade of silence was, “I’m not going to get involved in any family disputes.” Well, he sure proved himself to be a regular little hypocrite in the end! He stuck his nose everywhere but in his own business, pitted certain family members against others, and so on and so forth. His emotional state at the time was not good, but this was still no excuse to make so many people miserable. In some cases, his intentions may’ve been good. In others, he seemed to use the loss of his son as an excuse to cause so much of a rift within the family.

Anyway, although I’m still not sure I could forgive Tammy, I’m still glad she contacted me, for it was a way to let her know how I felt and to give her the choice of peeking in on my life via the journal link I gave her. It keeps my parents out of it, too. As it was, I hated to involve them by asking them to send the link to her, but I didn’t know how else to get it to her. She could’ve moved a dozen times since we last spoke for all I know. I still don’t know that reading other people’s journals or short stories is her thing, but now I know she has that option.

Even if I could forgive her or if what happened had never happened, I have to ask myself: Do I really want to reunite with someone I have nothing in common with? I’m surprised she’d even want to bother with me if only because we are so different. Having never had kids to tie me down, I was able to be open to being exposed to many different experiences, my interests are totally different, and we never did see eye to eye on much. I don’t blame her for being different from me as we are who we are. And I’m pretty sure she feels the same and knows that I am who I am.

In the end, I’ve decided to do nothing for now. I need time to think about things. I just don’t know if I can trust her. Hell, I don’t even know that I can trust my own parents despite them saving our asses! Talk about having some seriously mixed emotions about certain people. So I will sit and think about it. One minute I feel myself begin to soften, to tell myself the past is history, think of the good times, let it go, move on, etc. Then I remember what I went through and the anger returns and I am too stubborn not to hold my ground.

Like she said, though, she’ll always be my sister. And I will be hers. That won’t change.

FRIDAY, JANUARY 2, 2009 I thought I was ready for sleep, but I guess I’m not quite there yet. The day turned out wonderfully quiet. We only heard the dogs for about 15 seconds at 10 PM. What sucks is knowing that tomorrow they’ll be back to barking the day away. Due to where my schedule is now, I should sleep through the worst of it. That would be the barking fit that starts just after 7:30 and lasts for an hour, sometimes longer. Then every 15-30 minutes they’ll go off from anywhere between 5-20 minutes at a time.

How does one get away from all the barking in the West??? It’s so bad here that I’ve sometimes thought about heading east where dogs are pets, allowed indoors, and made part of the family. Not tossed outside to stay 24/7 like some old, used-up piece of furniture. I don’t understand why anyone would want dogs if all they were going to do was keep them outside. Trained guard dogs, I can see, but what else would be the point in keeping them out there? To get attention? To annoy your neighbors?

Florida appeals to me, but at the same time, Tom and I both agree that the humidity would suck. Plus, Florida’s so damn crowded. There’s no acreage or real space of any kind to be had there if you’re not ready for a retirement community of some kind. I’d still like to remain in rural areas for another 20 years or so, then maybe get into a retirement community somewhere.

Tom trimmed my hair earlier, but it’s still a bit uneven. It’s not too noticeable with all the curls, so it’s okay for now. After having it between my waist and legs for two decades, it’s nice to have a break from the hassles that went with having such long hair for so long. Who knows? I may keep it short forever, although it’s not literally “short.” Guess that depends on one’s definition of the word. It’s to my shoulders. Pretty short for someone who had it as long as I did.

Tom agrees his weight is getting out of hand at 262 pounds, so he’s going to start dieting. Being laid off and home so much of the time has made it easier for him to eat more and be less active. I’m sure he’ll lose some weight. Once he makes up his mind to do something and is serious and sure he wants to do it, he usually does it.

Me, I could still stand to lose 25-35 pounds, but my problem is constant hunger. Until I can figure out a way not to be so hungry so much of the time, losing weight is going to be a challenge for me. And having such a slow metabolism doesn’t help either. So running every day alone doesn’t get the weight off. I’d have to cut down to at least 1000 calories a day and at that rate, you might as well starve cuz you’ll feel like you are anyway!

After finding a couple dozen or so typos in We’ll Meet Again Someday, along with a few missing words and sentences that I felt I could restructure better, I replaced the old copy with the new, corrected version on MD, but I’m not going to bother putting the corrected copy on Kiwi. So hopefully there are no more boo-boos to be found within it.

I decided, after all, to go through the 26 pages I began of Rainbow Dreams and see if I could make a story of it. I’m just not sure where to go with this one yet, but maybe it will come to me at some point. I usually get my ideas from dreams, believe it or not.

Still not sure what makes my journal so popular on MD, but after thinking about it I realized that there are up to 9 people that I know or have known (and this is kind of funny) that could be checking it out. My folks, Tammy, Mary, Andy, Marla, Satish, Michelle, the black bitch & pig. Plus there could be OLSers checking it out too, along with Lucinda, who told me my journal was “fascinating.” I never heard from her again after that.

Later…

Shit! The past really does come back to haunt me, doesn’t it? Now I know Tammy not only could be checking my journals out, but she is. This part is great. I like to share my thoughts, opinions and experiences. If I didn’t and if I cared what others thought of what I may have to say, I wouldn’t have an online journal set to public as opposed to private.

With sites like Facebook, MySpace, Reunion and shit like that which I had to join due to contests they were conducting, I knew it was just a matter of time before I was found by someone I didn’t want to be found by. I guess she’s still living in Connecticut. She’s a medical assistant, or so her profile says.

I still don’t think I ever could forgive her. Forgiving someone is simply asking for old cycles to repeat themselves and the last thing I need is to go through that shit all over again. She may never be able to cause me to end up in jail again, but just knowing that she did once is enough! Besides, she and I are like night and day, and she’s on one side of the country while I’m on the other side, so what’s the point of reconnecting? My friends may be far away too, but we have common interests and we don’t have the shitty history the drama queen and I have.

At first I was going to ignore her message which simply said, “This is your sister. Hope all is well,” but since I don’t always do the smartest thing, I told her no, I’m not going to tell you to go to hell or wish every bad thing in the world to happen to you, but I think it best that we continue on in silence, as silence really is golden at times. Yet I at least let her know why. I also told her I wasn’t sure she got the link to my journals and so I gave that to her too, then deleted the entry I had for her. Not sure why she’d care, but it’s up to her to do what she wants as far as reading any of my stuff. If she bugs me I could always set my journal to private.

To sum it all up, I told her that while I may’ve had fun flirting with a few of the detention officers who actually liked me too, she has no idea what half a year of missing your loved ones, your pets, eating food not fit for an animal, taking cold showers, and not getting any sleep is like, and she ought to hope she never will!

So I may not be perfect either, and the past may be the past, she may not have known what the hell she was doing, but one simple fact remains and that’s that while we may not hate each other, we don’t like each other either.

Who’s next to find me, Miss Perfect?

Her contacting me on Facebook makes me think my folks never gave her my journal link. Unless she wanted to keep her email address hidden and not have to set up her own journal account just to contact me, why didn’t she contact me from there a while ago if she had the link? And why did my parents not give her the link, if that’s truly the case? Maybe they didn’t want her to read anything I may write about them that they didn’t like and that may embarrass them? Or maybe they didn’t want her to feel hurt on account of the entry I made just for her?

I already got my first win of the year. Two gift cards for Albertson’s. One’s for $75 and the other is for $25. The only problem is that there are no Albertsons in NorCal. So Tom called their 800 number from the landline and they said to simply return them and they’ll send us a check for $75.

I also won a pouch of cinnamon crumb cake coffee that’ll make 10 cups and some candy.

I got the tank top I won from ESPN and it’s too small on me. Argh! Well, I’m not going to lose any more weight. I’m SICK of dieting! 135 may be an astronomical amount of weight for a 5-footer, but that’s okay. I hate being hungry, I’m still pretty fit and making sure I run about a mile each day.

According to the amount of time I smoked (started between ages 13-15 and quit at 31), and the number of cigarettes I smoked during that time, I’ve taken off almost 4 years of my life, according to this health site I was just at. That’s it? I would’ve thought it’d be more than that.

While I was correct in assuming we’d managed to escape the car stereos, the dog curse still lives on, although today was annoying as opposed to maddening. I think he was home today. Especially because of the rainy weather. If he was there, just letting them bark the amount that he let them bark for is enough to convince me that they need to be killed and that a note would be a waste of time. Besides, he’s said and done things in the past that indicate that he wouldn’t care to anyway. We’ve asked him to call first before coming down here yet he does it anyway, so why would he care about controlling his dogs?

Tom, who got up at 8:00, said they barked for 3 minutes. Then he heard a big diesel truck come in around 2:00 and they went off for 6 minutes, were quiet for 5, then went off again for 2 more minutes. We also hear (at least we think we do) someone else’s dogs, but aren’t sure where they are. Sound carries better at this time of year too, because the leaves have thinned out.

I just wish the owner was over 500’ away instead of almost 300’. You really have to get over 500’ before barking isn’t as much of an issue.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 1, 2009 Auburn, California, Age 43

Hopefully, 2009 will be the year we buy a land/package deal in the desert and “go home!” If not, then I hope we’ll at least be on that yellow brick road.

We watched the ball go down in Times Square as I like to do. The ball was really cool looking this year with changing colors and all that.

Last night turned out to be quieter than expected. Jesse or the houses up at the summit or both were shooting off some firecrackers on and off from just after 11:00 to right before midnight, but strangely enough, midnight was pretty quiet. I really thought we’d hear some kind of a grand finale, but nope.

The dogs ended up being quieter than expected too, since Jesse was probably getting shit-faced at some bar for the most part. There were just a few scattered barks that were a little annoying, but nothing maddening. Tomorrow’s when things will probably be maddening. I was kind of surprised the firecrackers didn’t set them off, but because they didn’t, that’s why I assumed Jesse was one of the ones setting them off. Tom said sometimes dogs don’t bark when they’re scared. Then I wish they could be scared all the time if that’s the case!

So far today it’s been cloudy and dead quiet. Tom did see his truck up there when he went to bring up the rent and trash. I’m hoping Jesse will want to stay home all day in front of the TV or something, but I know not to count on that one. I can hope, though!