#if I don’t take a chance on myself while I’m still under 30

[chickengeak]

Yall I’m leaving my job at the end of the month so I’ll actually have commissions open for once.

Follow me on Vgen 😌😌

[silksongeveryday]

Drawing Hornet everyday until Silksong comes out - Day 600!

Here’s a quick 30 min doodle to celebrate! :D

Man time really flies huh

Thank you guys for 3.1k btw!!!

And big thank you to those who have joined me in this wild journey of daily doodles no matter how long you’ve been here. Truly did not expect what started as a joke to make it this far lol

(more stuff I wanted to talk about under the cut)

-A few updates-

General Stuff:

Well, life has been generally pretty busy. And while that’s made it a little more challenging to do daily doodles as of late, it’s been alright for the most part. Some of you may have noticed though that a lot of my daily posts have been showing up as much as 1-2 hours later than the regular time. Unfortunately with all the stuff I’ve been taking care of lately, putting a daily doodle/drawing on top of the pile means it’ll be late very often. I kind of have an unofficial job irl now so this stuffs hard to juggle sometimes.

Hornet’s Strange Adventures:

Initially I was hoping to get a lot of stuff done for this game during October but some recent job stuff is making that pretty hard to do. I probably won’t be able to make any significant progress on this game until very late October and into November. So if you were looking forward to big updates on progress, it sadly won’t be for a while, sorry. Outside of that though, I can at least say that all the routes have been thoroughly planned out from start to finish including the secret route. This includes rewriting some choices that have already been seen during the game’s time on ssed.

About Doodle Requests

I haven’t had them open for a while anyway, but I’ve finally come to the decision that I will no longer be taking doodle requests through tumblr asks/inbox. As fun as it was in the beginning, I often found myself trying to fulfill requests on the daily and that was stressful. That being said, it doesn’t necessarily mean I’m stopping requests entirely. I just don’t really want to do them for free anymore. Since I’m on Hornet Journal Series still, it’s a long way away before anything happens, but there’s a likely chance I’ll only do commissioned doodle requests whenever they re-open. We’ll see as it gets closer though.

Thoughts on taking an actual break:

I’ve mentioned this a lot in the past both here on ssed and on my main blog, but I’ve been seriously considering taking a break. Like a real one. Not just a “I’m gonna stockpile a bunch of doodles and pick it back up when I run out” kind of break. Especially with the way life has been going lately (mostly positive at least), I feel as though I may have to retire from daily doodles somewhat soon if there is no official news by the time this blog hits its 2 year mark. Don’t get me wrong I’ve loved doing this for the almost two years that it’s been going but at some point I’ll have to move on from this whether I like it or not. Does this mean that activity on this blog stops altogether? No. I just won’t be doing daily doodles anymore. There’s a more likely chance it would end up being weekly, or possibly monthly. Just not daily anymore.

Whatever the case, that decision will be considered more when 2 years gets closer. Until then just enjoy daily doodles while they’re still here!

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I think that’s all I can think of to say right now. Might post more thoughts on my main maybe?? We’ll see

Thank you again to all the lovely people that have been here during this crazy journey, you guys are awesome :D

[gayczennie]

I Did Everything I Was Supposed To Do (pt.1)

Haechan x male reader

Summary: Finals week turns out to be the final breaking point for y/n, but luckily Haechan is around right when you need him

Warnings: fluff, some angst: homophobia, allusions to panic disorder, stress

“Fuck. I can’t believe I forgot about the final on Monday. Fuck fuck fuck” Y/n cursed under his breath as he walked as fast as he could toward the entrance to his boyfriend’s place. Y/n had a million things to do the next few days already, and now he had a final to cram for on top of it all. “One thing at a time” he told himself knowing it’s what Hyuck would tell him if they were together right now. He didn’t really listen to this advice of course… especially coming from his own mouth instead of his cute adorable boyfriend.Oh God. I wish he was here so bad. But Haechan was still at the dance studio and would be for the next several hours. That’s why y/n was even entering Haechan’s apartment right now in the first place; Daegal needed to be taken out while Haechan was gone.

He HAD to have his stupid extra long dance rehearsal today of course. On the day where he already had to finish a ton of assignments and now cram for a test. Y/n quickly threw his backpack on the ground and sprinted over to daegal scooping her up before she even knew what was happening. While he waited for Daegal to do her business and walk around a little, y/n got back to planning his study schedule in his head. If I start by studying for the exam… I can trade every 45 minutes from cramming to working on the lab report for my other class. Fuck! That depends on whether the others ever filled in their data. Ok so I’ll save that for the end and work on the PowerPoint instead even though it’s due the longest from now. As long as I cut myself off at around 1:00 am, that should be enough sleep to take the exam at 9:30 the next day. It was going to be a rough night, but y/n decided he’d just have to work away and hope for the best.

Y/N went back inside and scooped his backpack up again to go work in Hyuck’s bedroom. He found the smell of his boyfriend clinging to the room to be extremely comforting and he hoped it would help him stay calm and focused on his work. He opened up his laptop to the lecture notes for the exam and began skimming them for any confusing topics that jumped out at him. What the? I only know like 2 of these concepts?? I’m screwed. Y/N new from plenty of old tests that it would only make things worse if he worried about it now, and feeling himself start to panic, he decided to work on the PowerPoint instead. He figured he should just finish all his other assignments so that he could then spend the entire rest of the night studying.

An hour into working on the PowerPoint y/n’s phone buzzed. He opened it to find a message from one of his lab partners that read “hey y/n I’m really sorry but I’m actually boarding a plane right now so I’m not gonna be able to finish my part of the lab. Maybe you can ask [partner name 2] for her data? I think she got mine down too.”

Y/n: “I’ll ask her.”

Partner 1: “KK.”

“Gotta go, sorry again!”

Partner 2: “Shit. I don’t have her values either y/n. I’m pretty sure that part of the lab was online though, so one of us can just do the lab at home right now.”

“Oh wait actually, I have to take both of my finals on Monday. It’s due Tuesday right? So I won’t have time to do her part. Y/n any chance you can do it?”

Y/n: “ I only have one midterm tomorrow… I guess I can do it if no one else can.”

Partner 2: “Ur the best bro! Tysm <3”

Y/n: …

.

.

Fuck me. How am I supposed to do [p/n 1]’s work for them on top of everything else? Y/n barely had enough time to do all his work as it was. And he had done all of HIS work on the lab already too. He thought he’d just quickly analyze his partner’s data and then turn it in… but no. This is totally unfair. I have more work than either of them, and I’m doing their work for them too on top of it all. Y/n’s eyes grew misty for a second threatening to turn into tears, but y/n shook his head hard and the urge to cry went away for now. He had to get back to— wait no. He needed to cook dinner. With no Hyuck home to cook dinner like usual, he was going to starve if he didn’t make something for himself. Standing up quickly y/n smacked his arm on Hyuck’s dresser skinning it in the process. Great. Now he was bleeding. And it had gotten on his white shirt too. Except it wasn’t his shirt, it was his boyfriend’s shirt that he had borrowed. Y/n was this close to screaming in frustration, but stripped off the shirt quickly and made his way to the bathroom to clean the spot before it stained. And of course, he needed to throw it in the washer if he really didn’t want it to stain, and that meant he should really just do all of Haechan’s laundry now. So heart now racing in a slight panic, y/n gathered the laundry and started the cycle as quickly as possible so that he could start on dinner.

Opting for the most time efficient option, y/n grabbed some pasta and left it to boil while he got back to work for a few minutes. There sure was a lot on his mind now between the pasta he was cooking, Daegal (who he suddenly remembered needed to be fed as well), the lab report, the final exam in a day, Haechan’s laundry that still needed to be dried, folded, and put away, and the millions of other things he needed to get done before going home to his family at the end of the week. And the trip home would be another ordeal that required a lot of planning and prep work. Y/n had a lot of problems at home due to his conservative family and their recent discovery that he was dating Haechan. But that’s silly. I shouldn’t worry about that right now. And it’s not like it’s anything new knowing they all disapprove of my “lifestyle choice”. That’s old news, and I need to focus on this. Y/n went back to his multitasking and eventually got Daegal fed, the laundry in the dryer, and got a good portion of the lab done.

At 10:30 y/n finally felt satisfied with the PowerPoint and had finished collecting most of the data his partner was supposed to do. So he went to wash all the dishes he had left out at dinner and put away the leftovers as a quick study break. He smiled at the pasta he’d saved for Haechan knowing it would make his boyfriend’s day to find food ready for him after a long night of dance practice. When he walked back into Hyuck’s bedroom to finish the lab, he noticed several notifications on his phone again.

Mom: Hey you’re coming home on Wednesday right? You’ll be done with finals week by then?

Dad: Hey y/n you better have a gift ready for your mother when you come home on Tuesday. She’s still pretty upset about Haechan, so you should really try to make her feel better.

Bro: Dude mom and dad are pissed cuz dad thought you were coming home Tuesday after your final, and then mom told him you said Wednesday. So he flipped and said you were probably staying longer to fuck Haechan or something

Y/N: I told them both Wednesday. I AM spending Tuesday night at Hyuck’s place. But I just wanted a night to relax before immediately coming home

Don’t tell them that… just say I’m busy or something

Bro: sorry bro, that’s not gonna work. You better come home Tuesday or they’re gonna make the trip absolute hell for you

Y/N: fuck ok fine, I’ll make it work

Y/n was getting more and more stressed by the second. And now he wouldn’t even get any sort of buffer between finals week and seeing his family. And fuck he had that feeling in his head- that feeling of anxiety setting in- making him slightly dizzy and his chest tight. Fuck. Fuck. I’m gonna have a panic attack. I know it’s coming. Should I call Hyuck? He should be on his way home by now anyway right? Ok fuck. Yeah he should call his boyfriend. Maybe he could talk him through it. He prayed he was right and Hyuck would actually answer his phone, and to his relief, Hyuck answered right away.

“y/n! I’m on my way home and practice went pretty well! I think the show is going to be really good this quarter. Have you made dinner yet? And how’s the studying going?” He was so excited to hear his y/n ie’s voice on the phone. “Hyuck.” Y/n felt the lump in his throat form and wasn’t able to get out the rest of your words as he broke into tears. “Y/n? What’s wrong love? Are you ok?” No words came out of y/n as he began to hyperventilate. Haechan could hear y/n’s shallow breathing and put together that he must be having a panic attack. He assured y/n he��d be there in the next ten minutes and stayed on the phone with him until he rushed through the door exactly ten minutes later, Immediately making his way over to y/n huddled in the corner of his bed crying and hyperventilating. From past experience he knew y:n liked him to stay close until he was able to calm down and talk.

Haechan slowly climbed into the bed, sliding his body between your back and the bed frame, wrapping his arms around you in a comforting bear hug. “I’ve got you y/n. I’ve got you, and I’m not going anywhere.” Y/n began shaking in Haechan’s arms unable to fully process what was happening with his mind completely taken over by panic at this point. Haechan rested his chin on y/n’s soft hair and hummed a song. Y/n did his best to focus on the light vibrations on his head from Haechan’s tune. “I’ll just talk about my day a little too ok y/n? Squeeze my hand if you’d like that.” Y/n’s eyes remained squeezed tight, and his body was still trembling, but he gives Haechan’s hand a light squeeze back. “Ok love. Let’s see… I saw Jungwoo today! I know he’s your favorite dance major right? He was really cool to watch, you were right! He might even be more charismatic than me” he teased. Y/n didn’t laugh out loud or acknowledge him, but he appreciated Hyuck trying to lighten the mood. “I spent most of the night working on my duet with Mark though. They have us doing this really acrobatic hiphop song and it’s a lot of work. I’ve memorized all the footwork though. It was kind of funny watching Mark struggle with it more than me for once honestly. Next time you should tag along and watch. When it’s not finals week of course!” He adds, giving a small pec to your forehead.

“Is that why you’re stressed by the way? Finals?” He doesn’t really expect y/n to give any responses yet. But much to his surprise you shake your head in response. “No. More.” Y/n says quietly, starting to breath a little more evenly. “What else baby? What’s stressing you out.”

“Everything!” Y/n exclaims. “So much. TOO much” y/n squeaks out bursting into more tears. Haechan gently shushes you and squeezes his arms tighter around your body and begins planting little kisses all over your head to comfort you. “It’s ok y/n. It’s ok.” Hyuck can feel y/n’s body body relax a tiny bit despite his sobs. Y/n spins around melting into Haechan and burying his face in his chest

To be continued…

[weezly14]

It’s national infertility awareness week, and I’m still infertile.

It’s been 19 cycles of nothing.

No, not nothing.

Once I was 8 days late before I started bleeding clots.

Once I got three days of very, very faint lines. I told myself not to get excited until the lines got darker. Instead they disappeared, and the blood came. I tried to tell myself I’d just taken seven faulty tests over three days. It hurt less.

(It hurts, still.)

It’s national infertility awareness week, and my best friend has a newborn, and another friend just announced she’s pregnant. It’s a boy.

(What would my lost faint line have been?)

I’m in the middle of my first IVF cycle. Every morning and every evening my husband gives me injections of fertility meds. I’m bloated, fatigued, emotional. I’ve had headaches and nausea. I have bruises from the shots, and every other day we wake at 5:30 to drive to the clinic for bloodwork and an ultrasound. I can’t tell if it’s going well or not. Everything about IVF is shrouded in mystery and uncertainty. I haven’t been my best self, but my husband has come with me to every appointment, has held my hand and watched the fertility videos and kisses the bandaid he puts on me after he administers the shots, morning and evening. He buys me a hash brown after every appointment and dealt with the pharmacy for me. He woke up at 6 am today to wait for fedex to deliver my meds.

(My father left when I was a baby, wouldn’t go with my mom to visit me in the nicu. But my husband has gone above and beyond for eggs that may not even become embryos. Potential future sprout, you will never feel unwanted; you will always know the love of a doting, caring father. Before you even became, he took care of you.)

IVF is not a guarantee. It gives us a chance, but it’s still just that — a chance. A better one than we’d had, but it could still fail. It’s hard to hold onto that reality and the stubborn hope, too. Because it’s stubbornness more than anything that’s gotten me here. I don’t know when to quit. As scary as it is to try, I have to at least try.

So, this is trying. It’s four injections a day and bandaids shaped like cats or dogs. It’s a shared audiobook on the drives to and from the clinic, and hash browns on the way home. It’s tears and fear and clinging to the idea of success, holding each other when it gets to be too much. It’s the cats and dogs staying close and giving cuddles, like somehow they know how much I need it. It’s friends and family checking in and offering support.

(It’s the basket in the closet of an empty bedroom, filled with little things acquired over the past year and a half. Little things for a potential future sprout, socks and onesies and a blanket. In the room we haven’t filled, that we still call the nursery.)

Infertility sucks, but it’s more common than anyone wants to believe. 1 in 6 is the stat going around. National infertility awareness week is all about people sharing their stories, helping others feel less alone. It’s still fucking lonely, but it helps, somehow. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone. As much as it hurts when friends get pregnant easily, I’m so glad for them, too. I’d hate to see them go through what I have.

So, for whatever it’s worth, it’s infertility awareness week, and I’m infertile. I have two failed IUIs under my belt, and I’m on my first IVF cycle. Everyone’s journey is different, but they all suck. Not all of them end with a take home baby. If this is your experience, too, I’m sorry.

I don’t know how our journey ends. I might not for a while yet.

(Lost faint line, potential future sprout — you were always, always wanted. We’ll keep trying.)

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Christmas Reruns 2024–Day 5: Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas (2/3)

Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t!  One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia.  A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns.  So here you go!  Enough holiday (mostly) fluff to get you to New Year’s Day. (With a new story posting on Christmas Day.)

Word Count: 2547

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31

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Chapter 2: Walking in a Winter Wonderland

Notes: This story was originally written in 2014.

“Looks like your boyfriend learned about Christmas,” David said dryly as he pushed open the sheriff’s station door.           

Emma elbowed her way past her father to have a look and then barked out a laugh.  A veritable forest of mistletoe hung above her desk and chair.  David was right; it couldn’t be the work of anyone but her adorable idiot of a pirate.

“Although if he really wanted to get you to kiss him,” David continued, draping his winter coat over the back of his own chair, “he would have hung it inside one of the jail cells.  We left the station locked when we went on rounds, so I’m pretty sure this qualifies as breaking and entering.”

Emma grinned.  “Cut him some slack, Dad.  There are far, far worse things he could have done, don’t you think?”

“That depends,” David replied with a frown.

“Yeah?  On what?”

“Whether or not he makes use of the mistletoe when I’m around.”

Emma laughed again, still amazed at the happiness that was her life at the moment.  Seriously, who would have thought that Emma Swan, the unloved, unwanted orphan would one day have to deal with an overzealous pirate boyfriend and an overprotective father?

“I’ll make him behave,” Emma promised.  “At least while you’re around.”

David grimaced.  “You had to tack on that last part?”

“Yep,” Emma replied, taking a seat.  “Deal with it Dad; your little girl’s dating a pirate.  Bound to be some…um…misbehavior.  Probably on both our parts.”

David groaned.

Her dad put up a good show, but Emma knew that’s all it was—a show.  The bromance was strong with these two.  Emma didn’t know who was happier that her relationship with Killian was still going strong, her or her dad.

A month had passed since Gold’s sorcerer’s hat stunt, and they were all still reeling from it to various extents.  She’d had nightmares about it every night for a solid two weeks following the incident.  Nightmares where they didn’t make it in time.  Nightmares where she, her mom and Belle arrived at the clock tower a moment after Gold had finished crushing Killian’s heart into a fine powder.  She’d woken up shaking and bathed in sweat. 

If Gold had succeeded…she couldn’t even bring herself to finish the sentence.  The very thought scared her more than anything in her life had ever scared her.

It was in that moment when she was frozen in place, helpless to protect Killian, that she gave up the last bit of pretense.  She loved him; there was no denying it.  Just the sight of him was enough to make the butterflies start tap dancing in her stomach.

“What do you think of my first attempt at decorating for the season?” 

Speak of the devil. 

Killian strode in with the confidence (and looks) of a fashion model.  He leaned down, brushed a kiss against her cheek and then straightened with the grin she’d come to learn meant trouble.

“Not bad,” she said, “but you know people usually just hang one sprig of mistletoe, not a whole garden.”

He tsked, and frowned at her playfully.  “And where would be the fun in that?  I’d prefer to increase my chances of finding myself under it with a fetching lass rather than limit them.”

He pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her.  “Speaking of which, it appears you and I are currently standing beneath a particularly hearty specimen.  Holiday traditions must be observed, darling.  Good form and all.”

She grinned and looped her arms around his neck.  “So what are you waiting for?”

His smile turned distinctly wicked.  “Not a thing in the world, love.”

A wildfire raged between them at the first touch of his lips to hers.  It was always like this between them; like someone had tossed a lit match on a mountain of dry kindling.  Emma tilted her head, instantly deepening the kiss, reveling in the feel of his hand in her hair anchoring her to him, his hook at her back urging her closer.

David cleared his throat.  Loudly.  Whatever adjectives could be used to describe her father, “subtle” was not one of them.  Emma pulled away with an apologetic look at her boyfriend, then turned to face her dad.  Killian reached down and laced his fingers with hers.

“You guys mind?” David asked with a hint of exasperation.  “This is a place of business after all.”

“Funny,” Killian said with a smirk, “you seemed to be singing an entirely different tune that night last week when I walked in to find you and your lovely wife similarly expressing your affection.”

David spluttered.  “That’s…that’s different!”

“Aye?  How so?”

“It’s different because…because…well, because it just is.”

Killian laughed with such good humor that soon even David joined in.  “Look,” her father finally said, “I’m glad you two are happy together, I really am, but could you keep the PDA to a minimum while I’m around?  Please?”

Killian sketched a bow.  “I shall endeavor to control myself, but confronted with your daughter’s ravishing beauty, I am, more often than not, unable to express my admiration any other way.”

Emma laughed and swatted him playfully.  “You are so full of it.”

“Aye,” he returned with a flirtatious wink, “but I noticed you failed to put up a protest at my ‘PDA’ a moment ago.”

“I’ll admit,” she returned, placing her free hand over his heart, a gesture she found herself making more and more frequently since his ordeal with Gold, “kissing you is kind of addicting.  So, what’s up?  We weren’t supposed to meet for lunch for another hour or so.”

“I’ve come to steal you away, love,” He said, giving her hand a squeeze.  “The snow has bathed the woods in a blanket of loveliness, and I wish to share it with my favorite lass.”

“I can’t just go take a stroll in the woods,” Emma said.  “For one thing, it’s cold.  For another, I’ve got work to do.  And did I mention, it’s cold?”

The look on his face was two parts puppy and one part wicked.  “If we don’t go, I’ll be forced to hang around and, no doubt, nauseate your father.  We wouldn’t want that, now would we?  Besides, I’m…more than capable of keeping you warm.”

“Ugh,” David said.  “Emma just go with him.  I’ll cover for you.”

“Well,” Emma said, grabbing her coat and hat, “if you both insist…”

“We do,” David and Killian said in unison.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Emma had to admit it was beautiful and peaceful out here. And with Killian’s arm draped around her, surprisingly warm as well.  On impulse, she reached up and pecked him on the cheek. 

“And what was that delightful gesture for, Swan?”

She shrugged.  “No reason.  Just…thank you.  You were right.  It’s nice to get away from the craziness of the town for a while.”

He smiled, making the crow’s feet stand at attention at the edges of his eyes.  “Darling, when are you going to finally realize that I’m always right?”

Emma rolled her eyes but couldn’t keep the grin from her face.  “Don’t hold your breath, pirate.”

“Thought as much,” Killian muttered under his breath.

Emma had never been a big fan of winter.  She hated the cold, and the snow drove her crazy—especially now that she was the sheriff and was called to every fender bender and slide-off in the whole damn town.  Killian, however, seemed to have an entirely different opinion on the matter.  His face was lit up with the wonder and awe of a child as he trudged through the ankle-deep snow and watched the flurries continue to drift down.

“You seem to be enjoying this weather,” she observed, reaching up to feather her fingers through his hair and dislodge the stubborn snowflakes that had evidently decided to take up residence there.

“Aye,” he said, looking down at her with a delighted grin.  “Always reminds me of a day I spent with Liam many, many years ago.”

Emma perked up at the mention of Killian’s brother.  “You never talk about him.  I always assumed the memories were too painful for you.”

Killian smiled tenderly.  “Aye, some memories are.  It seems no matter how many centuries go by, the sting of his passing will never truly fade.  I do, however, have many, many pleasant memories of him, and the day we spent in the snow is certainly one of those.”

“Would you tell me about it?”

“Of course,” he complied without hesitation.  “It was one of the last good memories I had of my family.  My mum died the following year, and my father was never the same after her passing.  At any rate, I was but a wee lad at the time, five, maybe six years old.  Liam was a good ten years my senior and I nearly worshiped him.  He’d just informed me that he would be leaving in less than a fortnight upon his first ship; I no longer recall her name.  He was to be a cabin boy and I’ve rarely seen a lad so excited.  I was, of course, devastated that my brother, my hero, would be leaving me in a matter of days.”

“I can only imagine,” Emma soothed.  Killian felt things so deeply; his entire heart and soul were invested when he loved.  Liam’s departure must have hit him hard.

“Aye,” he said with a grimace.  “Anyway, on the day in question, Liam woke me, excited about the newly fallen snow.  We two spent the entire day reveling in it—making snowmen and snow fortifications.  Engaging in a rather ruthless snowball fight.  It was a day I wouldn’t trade for all the rum in the Enchanted Forest.”

“It sounds great.”

“Aye, that it was.”

They lapsed into silence for a time.  Emma rested her head against his shoulder, and she felt him brush a kiss against the crown of her head.

“So how was your breakfast with Henry?” Emma asked.

“Informative,” Killian said, and Emma could hear the smile in his voice.  “The lad is a wealth of information.  He seems quite excited for this Christmas holiday.”

Emma sighed.  “Yeah.  Seems like it’s all he can talk about.”

Killian looked over at her.  “From your tone, I take it you don’t share his sentiments?”

“No.”  The word was definitive, emphatic.

“The lad told me as much,” Killian admitted.  “He was concerned that you seem unwilling to participate in this realm’s Christmas traditions.”

Emma grimaced.  “I was hoping it would be enough for him to get all the Christmas crap at Regina’s or my mom and dad’s.”

Killian stopped walking and turned her toward him.  “The lad didn’t come to me because he needs more Christmas; he came to me because he’s worried about you.”

Henry was worried about her?  Because of Christmas?  “He doesn’t need to be.  I’m fine.”

Killian looked at her skeptically.  “Swan, I’ve seen you ‘fine’.  I’ve seen you happy.  I’ve seen you content.  You are feeling none of those emotions.  This ‘Christmas’ is obviously a source of pain for you.  Please, tell me why that is.”

Emma sighed.  There really was no point trying to hide anything from this man.  “It’s just…I don’t know.  Christmas is all about family and happiness and being together and stuff.”

“And these are bad things?”  At some point, Killian brought his good hand up to cup her face, and he was gently caressing her cheek with his thumb. 

“No…”  Emma drew out the syllable.  “Not in general, but for an unwanted little girl in the group homes it was torture.  I mean, everywhere you turned you’d get assaulted with images of happy little families doing happy little family things.  Every time you turned on the TV you’d see commercials and movies and everything else where everyone was perfectly happy and enjoying each other’s company.  The songs talk about it being the happiest time of the year, or about how people love going home for the holidays or the love of family.  You know what it was for me?  It was a slap in the face.  It was yet another reminder that I’d never had that and probably never would.”

The compassion in Killian’s eyes nearly broke her.  He dropped his hand from her face and gathered her into his arms, holding her tight.  She clung to him, drinking in the love he offered her.

“Emma,” he whispered., “there are so many, many people who love you.  So many, many people who would do anything to make you happy.”

The tears rushed to her eyes.  “I know, and it means everything in the world to me.  It’s just—I don’t know.  Childhood memories die hard.  I don’t know if I can even do all the ‘happy family Christmas’ stuff.”

“But you said it yourself, love,” Killian reasoned, stroking her hair.  “Christmas isn’t about perfectly fulfilling the traditions you’re accustomed to.  It’s not about living up to the standards you believe the ‘perfect’ families attained.  It’s not about fulfilling a checklist of Christmas items.  It’s about being with the ones you love; showing them how much you care.”

Killian pulled away.  “Let us love you,” he said simply.  “Let us show you how much you mean to all of us.  Let us build our own traditions, our own memories.  Perhaps they won’t erase the pain of the past, but trust me love, the good memories, the beautiful moments—they shine as brightly as the star Leroy attempted to force me to place on the top of Granny’s tree—if you but let them.  They are like the sun that blots out the light of the stars.  Losing Liam to dreamshade—it was one of the darkest days of my life.  The pain of losing my brother, the man who was captain and brother and hero to me, was such that words cannot describe.  Even so, traumatic as that day was, it cannot hold a candle to the simple joy of that day spent playing in the snow. ”

“I wish I’d met Liam,” Emma said with a wistful smile.

“As do I love,” Killian said.  “He would have liked you—and would have thanked his lucky stars that I’d finally found myself a beautiful blonde savior to point me back to the man I wish to be.”

Emma stroked his face.  “He’d be proud of you, Killian.  You’re a good man; one of the best and most honorable I know.”

Killian turned his head and brushed a kiss against her palm.  “You can have no idea how sweet those words sound coming from your lips.  I have but one bit of advice for you, love: don’t run from the love of family and the joys of Christmas all around you.  Make new memories, good memories.  I can promise you; you won’t regret it.”

Emma reached up and brushed a soft kiss against his lips.  “Maybe you’re right.”

“Again with the skepticism, darling?  Didn’t we just establish I’m always right?”

Emma chuckled.  “Whatever.  I’m hungry.  Are you going to take me to lunch or not?”

Killian sketched a bow.  “My lady’s wish is my command.”

–Up next, Emma and Killian return to her apartment after the town’s Christmas Eve party.

NEXT CHAPTER->

[bigender-cowboy]

Sorry I kinda died there for a second lol. Anyways I’m going to explain why under the cut, and it’s kind of one big vent. You don’t have to read it if you don’t want to and you’re a mutual or something.

(Tw: SA, Eating disorders, child abuse, etc)

So basically I’ve been really going through it mentally. After what happened to me this summer, everything hit me hard. The severe abuse I went through by my mother’s words and hands messed me up. I was allowed to starve myself for days with no attention, causing me to do things like pass out. I also didn’t always have access to clean water, and when we ran out I went thirsty. Most clean water was warm (which I have no problem with) but I was also locked in a room with blankets surrounding me and the hot air from my broken window that didn’t shut felt like it was killing me. My room (which wasn’t actually mine) was also a wreck, with no space room to walk, stuff on both my bunk and my sister’s, and even rats (though these were all around the house). Outside my room was no better, and I’d go as far as to call it a hoarder’s home. There was mold, clothes everywhere, pills laying around, knives laying around, plates laying around, cups, spilled milk, items everywhere, and more. In summary, it was hell. A hot, disgusting, and horrible hell. This has deeply affected me, and I’m currently suffering from the aftermath of it all. It made my ED so fucking bad. I relapsed while I was there, only adding more scars to my poor body. I was supposed to take care of my sister, and instead she’d bring me freshly cooked meals after realizing I hadn’t eaten in days. That made me feel so guilty. I felt horrible, really. Now, upon any chance of recovery, my mom chased me across the country. She only lives around 30-60 minutes away, and tries to leave gifts. This is incredibly harmful to me and makes me feel so bad I get nauseous.

Again, I’m suffering from past trauma. I was SA’d by one girl multiple times, who I still talk to. I’m scared of letting her go knowing what she knows about me. Somehow only recently this fucked me up so bad. She makes jokes about it. I get so nauseous when she does. It’s so triggering to me, and every day we don’t talk I get happier before remembering that she could be talking about me. I get extremely paranoid and am overly attached to her because of this. One of the bigger factors that made me stop posting was fear of her somehow finding my blog and showing everyone it, something I deeply want no one to find. I can’t open up to anyone but one of my friends, who used to date her and understands how manipulative and abusive she is. I appreciate that I have someone, but I cannot bring myself to tell anyone else knowing they’d tell the girl I told on her and I don’t know what’d she say about me.

Another thing: I’m also suffering from what I’m pretty sure are fucking hallucinations. I already had auditory ones, which have recently gotten way worse (examples: hearing this annoying fucking alarm and getting up to find it and it doesn’t change in volume wherever I go, hearing my name or a friend’s name being called, fucking breathing sounds, doors, banging, yelling, etc)(note: I think the worst one was this loud glitchy sound effect thing that kinda sounded like music and a girl was screaming with. i was informed this wasn’t real after checking cameras outside the window where i slept) which are messing with me pretty bad. And then I’m also fucking seeing like weird ass shadows like the other night I was trying to hang out with a friend and thought I saw a gorilla and started screaming. We both ran, and when I explained it and we both sat there confused why I thought this. A lot of moving or flashing shadows I think. I’m worried about whatever the hell this means. I also keep having things where I don’t know if they’re real. Like fake memories. Most commonly it’s a bloody nose, with me not knowing if it was real or a dream or I imagined it.

Now I’m also struggling with the thought that nothing I do will mean anything. If I die, most of my friends have told me they wouldn’t care (which I don’t remember is real or not). I am slowly learning how to cope with life while having this idea that my death will mean nothing, which is so fucking hard. I’m sure I have incredibly severe depression. I’m also having bad intrusive thoughts.

Summary: I had to step back for a moment because my declining mental health due to trauma. There’s gonna be more breaks like this probably.

Thank you for reading this, sorry if i fucked up your mood a bit.

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for pointing a gun at my ex-coworker 

I (18, M) work for a syndicate. In 2001, I was based in a team of myself and 4 other people (16M, 17M, 20M, 21M). In March 2001 a newcomer, let’s call him G (15M) joined, and from that point onwards things began to move really fast. In a week the newcomer completely overthrew the boss of the syndicate he had just joined. I was promoted when he took over. 

This may sound like a happy occasion for the 6 of us, but it really isn’t. It was a harrowing experience. In that one week, 3 of my coworkers (17M, 20M, 21M) had died and one of them (16M) had run away. We had accomplished what we set out to do, but we lost close friends in the process. But still, I swore fealty to my leader and my boss.

6 months later, G received news. They had found my ex-coworker who had run away (16M), let’s call him F. He had apparently spent the last 6 months playing piano at a bar. G said he was to be brought to us, and prove his loyalty to the syndicate by killing off a few members of the syndicate who were under the old boss. I was assigned to give him the order.

When the day rolled around, I was to wait for him. When F arrived, I immediately pulled out my gun, and took aim right between his eyes. He looked dead terrified, for the record. Shaking like a leaf in the wind. I had been frustrated at him for a while. I resented him for leaving the group. He hadn’t placed his trust in his closest friends in their time of need , I didn’t think he would now. I talked down to him, I harshly explained how G had killed the old boss and how three of our coworkers died, hell, I even confronted him asking if he had any guilt in heartlessly abandoning his team. He didn’t have much to say, most of the time he was just standing there, taking it, flinching and trembling the whole time. If he did speak, his voice was small and shook. I almost felt bad for the guy.

At some point, he told me that if I had meant to kill him, it would have already happened by then. I was pissed. I started just shit talking him to his face, out right insulting him. I even told him I was relieved he had decided to leave the gang. I did it just to see if he would come at me, like he would have in the past. Honestly, I’ll say I was probably just looking for a reason to shoot him, but, that’s beside the point right..? He ended up not reacting any differently from how he already was, and I ended up not shooting him.

I mean, really, AITA?? to be fair I was pretty pissed and he did (intentionally or not; I’m not certain) provoke me at one point. But I don’t know. He mostly looked scared of me, and clearly he had no immediate intention to hurt me or even offend me, but then again that was probably cause I was literally pointing my gun at his head. Before we fell out we were close friends, and I mean, I’m all for trying to mend this relationship it but I’ll be frank, we’re in the freaking mafia!  If he really did have intentions to hurt me I would’ve had to defend myself somehow, and i would have to off him so he wouldn’t get a chance to touch the boss (G), if he had somehow gotten past me. Additionally, he is like super dangerous and could literally kill anyone in a five meter radius in 30 seconds flat with the single swing of his arm. He could’ve killed me too at any point of time.But I probably showed a lot more murderous intent and intimidation than he did, so I feel a little guilty about that, I don’t think I really meant to kill him.

So, AITA?

[torotornottorot]

Books read in 2023:

The secret life of bees (Jan 6) 4/5 (probably would have enjoyed it more when I was younger. Great overall but still the mammy stereotype. Don’t like it when poc women are portrayed as ~divine creatures~ we are just normal people and we just wanted to treated like normal people. Nothing more, nothing less. Too flowery and cliche at parts but still good overall.) 

I’m glad my mom died (Jan 15) 5/5 (funny and thrilling. Reading this would probably help a lot of people with toxic parents think through their own trauma) 

Evil Under the Sun (Jan 17) 4/5 (simple and entertaining. Not a masterwork of literature but satisfying nonetheless. A bit slow to get started but great overall) 

The hunting party (Feb 4) 4/5 (found hard to get into it/get invested because of unlikeable cast of characters but stil high rating for unexpected ending. I was bored a few times in the beginning and middle parts but it really picked up in the end and made up for it. Would make a great movie) 

Sparkling cyanide (audiobook) (Feb 20) 3/5 (good to listen to while doing other work around the house. Probably not worth it to take separate time out to read) 

Last bus to Woodstock (Feb 24) 3/5 (hated the main detective and how he went about the investigation eg. relying on instinct and chance discoveries. But the side characters were super interesting and the ending was unexpected. Would have liked it better if inspector Lewis was the main character. No decent female characters. Only wh*res or the "shrill wife." But the crime itself was interesting and I liked the writing style). 

And then there were none (audiobook) (Feb 26) 5/5 (Omg. I was in thrall throughout. My favorite Agatha Christie book I’ve read so far. I actually thought there had to be a supernatural explanation lol) 

The dark remains (feb 26) 3/5 (not bad. Just boring. Can tell it was written by a dude. Not one interesting character despite being set in the gang world. Very cliche type of noir) 

The Falls (Ian Rankin) (March 1) 4/5 (great buildup but disappointing payoff. Loved the concept of the quizmaster. Very likable the main detectives and very interesting plot. Sustains you throughout despite being so long. But yeah. Didn’t quite like the solution to the murder) 

Wire in the blood (March 22) 5/5 (excellent. Gory but excellent. What a plot!) 

The distant echo (March 30) 5/5 (omg. If someone asks me what’s your favorite crime fiction book I’d say this one! Very suspenseful and unpredictable loved it loved it loved it!!!!) 

The Guest List (April 13) 6/5 (this surpasses the distant echo. This actually made me feel things. The amount of gasps I gusped could have powered the state of Texas for a year. Absolutely loved it. ) 

East of Eden (May 15) 100/5 (what kind of genius do you have to be to write such a book?  

In Cold Blood 4/5 (May 30) maybe bc I already knew the story, I kinda had to force myself to finish this 

Macbeth 5/5 (June 14) iconic 

Northanger Abby by Val Mcdermid 4/5 (June 17) fun modern retelling. Expected a crime and twist but it was faithful to the original. Enjoyed reading. 

Gone girl 6/5 (June 24) omg her mind. Will definitely read more by her. Wish I hadn’t seen the movie before so I could have been fully surprised. Liked the ending. 

The Pearl (5/5) (July 3) not a page turner but a good depiction of reality. Very sad. 

Age of Vice 3/5 (July 7) great beginning but I didn’t like the ending. I think the author tried to put too many stories and perspectives in one. That whole bit of Sunil was unnecessary? It just slowed the story down at such a crusial moment. And Sunny’s backstory with Vicky too. I don’t think it was necessary to have an unbelievably tragic backstory for every character and he already had his deal with his dad. Some things are never clarified like what happened to his mom, his true relationship with Vicky. Why Ajay agreed. Ajay turns out of be such a loser in the end. Maybe it’s “realistic” but lots of things that happen in this book are not realistic so I don’t know why only the ending has to be realistic. I wish I could have followed Ajay’s journey to a good ending. 

Milk fed 2/5 (August 12) only read bc of booktok. Good seeds here and there. didn't realy like it.

The club (5/5) (august 19) excellent, gripping. A bit longer than it needed to be though. 

The grownup Gillian Flynn (4/5) (October 19) great short story. Great writing. So engaging. Perfect length for getting back into reading��

Emma by charlotte Brontë and another lady (5/5) (Nov 2) love. Mr. Ellin needs to be played by Simon Baker in a movie. 

A room of one’s own by Virginia Woolf (Nov 11) (1000/5). This has been on my to read list for ages. I see quotes from this everywhere and every time I’m astounded by how she just she gets it and knows exactly what to say to express it perfectly. The essay was everything I imagined it would be. Forever grateful to that Destiel fanfic for introducing me to this. 

Villette (4/5) (Dec 29) lovely 

Girl, interrupted (5/5) (Dec 31) made me ponder about a lot of things. Her youth was really kind of stolen from her. Made to freeze just like that painting. what is the right thing to do? What is helping and what is hurting? What does “crazy” even mean? I think I tend to be very judgemental about this kind of stuff. But this book made me realize that people are people even if you do not understand why they act a certain way. They feel the same as me. 

[loevhyuck]

i wrote the mark question! super respect your answer and appreciate you taking the time to write a thoughtful response. it’s funny you say you struggle with accepting your bisexuality bc that’s exactly what i struggled with too, and thought that marks words were incredibly similar to what i used to say to myself. mark also had to grow up from a very young age, just like me. i noticed him talking in interviews around child era that he still feels like a child on the inside which is common for people who struggled through things they couldn’t control in their childhood. i also think that’s why he’s such a perfectionist and so hard on himself, it’s the one thing he can control, himself. and i can’t even imagine the pressure of the public eye on him at all times especially from such a young age. i think he’s done a beyond amazing job of handling himself and his career while working through all of these things that could be happening. unfortunately i haven’t had the chance to watch the documentary yet. maybe things will make more sense once i watch it

thank you so much for the question :( it was really interesting to answer because actually, to be honest, i've been thinking about this for a while too. even though mark said, in the documentary, the question of who he is has a lot to do with the fact that he's in two units + superm and that he doesn't know whether he's canadian or korean, i think it's a little deeper.

bisexuality is a very sore subject. i live in a homophobic country where i can hardly ever be happy with a girl because i will always have to hide if I don’t want to move. like i need to date man. and it's even worse here than in korea, and i really don't understand why people expect anything when you could lose everything. but here the problem is that I’m not sure how much i’m not deceiving myself and whether i’m really bisexual. where is this spectrum and what makes me bisexual and what doesn’t. just as i would be “more normal” if i were straight. If in adolescence I didn’t think much about it, now it has intensified tenfold. why can i experience all this and is it really a part of me, as far as it makes sense. as well as the inability to really tell anyone this.

yah. it's true. i have the same feelings about growing up quickly. as well as his words that he would like to finally grow up by 30. that he still doesn't feel old enough. or when they were previously asked in 2017 whether mark would like to grow up, he answered no. but it seems to me that he is very reasonable, but still childishly naive. smart beyond his years, but very much in himself and with his own thoughts. he is self-absorbed and it seems like both success and loss for him, because his thoughts eat him up. but i hug you two tightly.

considering how much workload he had over these ten years, it’s really impossible not to be proud of him. but it’s so sad to see how much he worries about his career, what he wants to do and how much energy it all takes from him. especially when he answered the op that his hard work and how hard he works is not something worth striving for. can we just support him? because when you are under constant stress, good words will never be superfluous. he matured very quickly and took responsibility for his actions, in words, he put everything on his career and I don’t think he will ever be able to walk away from that. at least I'm glad that he is surrounded by people who love him. his family, members, loved ones/friends. is his latest interview for the october magazine so sincere? especially when a seemingly perfect person in everything says how envious he is of those who are confident and love themselves.

thank you again :( it’s very interesting to discuss this with you. a big hug.

[olderjodijournals]

Wednesday, July 1, 1998

 

I tell myself to enjoy the peace from Andy’s constant phone calls while it lasts, but I worry about him. This isn’t like him to not call me for what? Nearly a week now? Maybe he’s just super busy looking for another job, but if I don’t hear from him by Friday, I’ll call him again, and if he can’t, then maybe Laura can tell me what’s going on. Unless he and Laura were killed together in a car accident, which I don’t vibe, then Laura would call me to let me know if something was up with Andy, I’d hope. And if anything happened to him and Laura wouldn’t Michelle contact me?

This time, I’m gonna be at the front window as soon as the Caddy arrives next door, so I can see if I can get a handle on what’s going on there with that and with the freeloaders. For that freeloader to show up two mornings in a row tells me he’s probably not picking up stuff of his he forgot, but maybe he’s picking up the animal. I’m sure that Monday and Tuesday, the Caddy did take the bitch somewhere. It brings her back around 5:00.

Once again, I thought about talking to Caddy Kid when he bangs by at 7:30 at an ungodly volume that even the freeloaders never used, but what good would it do? It’d just say “Sure! No problem,” then conveniently forget to turn the music down upon cruising by here, cuz it doesn’t give a shit about others any more than the freeloaders do. It’d be just another phony mother-fucker. The only way to stop it would be to beat the shit out of it, but there’s no way I could get away with that cuz there’d be too many witnesses. Although, if Caddy kid or witnesses pointed me out and said I beat up this dude, would the pigs really buy it? I doubt it. I bet I could lie my way right out of it. Well, we’ll see. It hasn’t woken me up again yet, but if it becomes a wake-up call problem, then yes, I’ll smash its brain right into its stereo itself.

Later…

OK, it is to get the kid that El Cocko pops in in the mornings lately. So, he’s definitely not too far away as I had felt, and they’re definitely not getting along, cuz he just pulled up to the curb, jumped out of the car, and took the kid without a word to the bitch. Anyway, in order of happenings - at 7:15 the bitch walked up and down her driveway twice with the kid slung over her shoulder as if impatiently looking for her ride. She had on a red dress and her hair was tucked under at the nape of her neck. The Caddy came at 7:17. Three minutes later he came, grabbed the kid, then split. Another two minutes later, the bitch left in the Caddy with just a few door-slams this morning. So the bitch is working.

Well, they may not be getting along now, which is nice, cuz then I have much less door slamming and stress to deal with, but they’ll kiss and make up. It’s just a matter of time, then he’ll be back.

I wonder what kind of shit I’m in for this July 4th weekend. I’m hoping that kids won’t want to come over and play ball in this intense heat and that with him out of the way, it’ll be quiet, but you never know. This bitch has some sick, rude friends just like her that’d love to badger me with noise, so we’ll see.

Again, this bitch is lucky to be getting rides that she can depend on. Most people in her situation would be forced to take the bus, including myself.

There’s something I don’t get, though, about our lovely freeloaders. If they’re such good pals with the Lopezs who obviously do daycare, why can’t the bitch leave the mistake with them? Did they have a falling out? I wouldn’t be surprised if they did, but then again, they’re made for each other. Assholes go hand in hand with other assholes.

Later…

Since getting a little smaller, I’m able to fit into one of my favorite sundresses again, but I’d still look much better in it if I were 20 pounds lighter. Not a chance, though. Not a chance.

Tom cut out a piece of wall in between the hall and bedroom closet. Strangely enough, there was insulation there. Who’d want to insulate an interior wall? He put a grill in this hole he made. The idea is for the AC to circulate its air through the bedroom, through the vent in the closet door, then through the vent in the wall when the bedroom door’s shut. It was getting way too hot in there.

Fortunately, the bitch is obviously picking up the kid at the end of the day with her ride, rather than having the kid dropped off by Daddy. That’s one less door-slamming spree I have to hear and one less case of stress and worrying that he’s gonna blast in, I’m gonna lose my cool.

Where is this boy, though? The teenager. I never see him. Hell, I didn’t even know he existed till that day I threatened to shoot the dog cuz they were stupid enough to leave it outside my bedroom window to bark at 2-a-fucking-clock in the goddamn morning. They were really asking for shit from me, but anyway, I wonder why it is that I never hear or see him? He must’ve not lived there for long cuz wouldn’t he and the bitch make damn sure he played ball every day in regard to me? That may have been the kid I saw two weekends ago where they had a little slip and had some aqua car banging about. The same day the bitch came in in a white van. But anyway, I never hear or see this dude.

Thursday, July 2, 1998

 

Well, it looks like good old UPS lost a package my folks sent. She said that at around the same time they sent out Tom’s birthday present, give or take a day or two, she sent out a box with greeting cards and other knickknacks. Well, if we haven’t gotten it yet, we aren’t getting it.

As soon as the sun comes up, I’m gonna dust, vacuum, and change the mice’s cages. Tom’s gonna mow later on. I had bad allergies again yesterday and some congestion and wheezing. Was it something in the air? Was it for holding down at 120 pounds for 4-5 days?

Later…

It stuns me to say this, but Caddy Kid went by quietly just now and yesterday, I didn’t even hear him.

I used the wireless headphones to dust, vacuum, and clean the mice’s cages and it was great. I used them for nearly two hours and by then, they’d gotten a little bit of static, but not much. I’m recharging them now.

I just got out of the shower and when my hair dries in 5 years, I think I’ll straighten it.

Later…

Here we go again. I go a few days where I’m not hungry, and then I go a few days where I’m starving, and back and forth over and over again. I’m on one of my famished trips where nothing I eat satisfies my hunger. I knew that giving in to this hunger would mean going back up to 124, but I said fuck it and gave in. I’m fat, always will be, and I just don’t give a shit anymore. Life’s too full of other things to do rather than to sit and waste my time over shit I can’t change.

Later…

This is what I just asked my sister in my letter to her, “How could you let Lisa go to Florida with a violent man who hits her???!!! Aren’t you afraid of losing custody of the kids on account of that asshole? How can any court allow a man like that near any child?! And why are you letting her stay with your ex-in-laws? Didn’t you say she too, was abusive (verbally/emotionally)?”

As I told Tammy, I know it’s absolutely none of my business, but I just don’t understand. How could any mother let her kids near a child-beater?

I called to see how Lisa was doing and she said that she’s leaving for Florida on Tuesday and will be gone for two weeks. Becky and Sarah are going, too, and they’ll be staying at Bill’s parents’ condo. They’ll be visiting my folks, I guess, but then again, Tammy doesn’t want the kids associating with them, so who knows? I’ll find out what happened and how many times Bill hit Lisa when she gets back.

I asked her how her talk with her therapist went as far as her moving out of there and she said her therapist said she should wait and thinks this trip will do her good. A trip with a child-beater? Yes, the trip may do her good, omitting Bill’s hitting, but when she comes back, Tammy and her problems in that household will still be there waiting for her.

I surprised Tammy by calling her at work (at Mark’s sharpening business) but she couldn’t get into it at that moment. If she and Mark break up, where is she gonna work and what’s she gonna do for money? Bill’s child support payments can’t be enough for them.

White Paws sometimes disappears. Does this mean she’s had more kittens somewhere? I better go take a look around the yard.

Later…

Caddy Kid decided not to keep a lid on it when coming home for lunch. It’s just my luck that the neighborhood boom car stereo gets to go home for lunch, too. Anyway, it blasted by really loud. As long as it doesn’t wake me up, I just have to live with it if I don’t want God to do something else to me. It’s either that or something else in its place. I gotta hear something. God put Caddy Kid back on the road when the cock split with his constant door slams and his friend’s constant door slams.

What kind of a weekend will I be in for? It's a bummer that July 4th has to fall on a Saturday. They're gonna be shooting off fireworks like hell when it comes time for me to go to bed. I'm never gonna get any sleep this weekend, and God only knows what I'm in for this weekend from next door. At this point, even if he stays out of the picture, there's no telling what kinds of sick pals the bitch will invite over. Or how many kids she'll have playing ball. Ma says she'll look into why I didn't receive that package, but I'm sure it was misdelivered. And if it was, we sure as hell will never see it.

So far, the weekend’s been a pleasant one, save for the usual sex bullshit.

I saw El Cocko’s car Friday at just after noon and thought it was an odd time to see his car. It worried me, but it doesn’t look like he’s moved back in yet. He will, though. In time. It’s inevitable. I haven’t seen its car since, but yesterday, some blue car I’ve never seen before must’ve dropped the bitch off. She actually went elsewhere for the day. If he were still in the picture, though, I’m sure something would’ve been going on here. Anyway, I heard the kid wailing and a few adult voices. I saw a big male freeloader who may have had some hair but couldn’t tell for sure who it was. These things all look the same. It left with the music at an acceptable volume, which is lucky for them, cuz one more outburst, holiday or not, and they’re out of here. Anyway, that’s all that’s been heard so far this weekend from next door.

Throughout the weekend, Tom worked on both our computers, but mainly mine. He made mine faster, but he had a lot of problems, too. I like the faster computer and I like the new version of AOL I’m using. It lets me choose fonts in the email and even lets me insert background pictures and things like that. I asked my folks what version they have. If they have 3.0 and not 4.0, then I can’t use these new features for them. This thing also has a spell checker, too.

It was muggy last night, and we even had some unexpected rain. It stopped a few hours ago and the sun’s poking through and drying things up. At 9:30 this morning, we took advantage of the light drizzle we had and went for a beeless swim. They are so bad this year! They come to the pool in 2s and 3s constantly. Sometimes there are even 4 at once! Usually, they come one at a time and there’s a 3-5-minute gap in between trips. Not this year! This year’s really making up for last year’s low bee count. I won’t swim unless it’s raining or dark.

I got a kick out of what I did to that bitch of a cat yesterday. Not White Paws, but mama bitch. I chased her out of the yard and when she realized I was too close behind her and that she wouldn’t have time to scale the block wall, she turned around and I veered her off into the pool. It was only for a second, though. As soon as she fell in, she got out a second later and ran off towards the side of the house.

Lisa called yesterday in tears. Mark’s 18-year-old daughter is becoming a regular little Jenny C, I guess. She and Lisa are friends and get along well, but Lisa, who cut herself again, is finding that some people don’t want to be around you when you’re down. This girl told Lisa, “Every time I come over, you’re always doing suicidal things.” When I say she’s become a regular little Jenny C, what I mean is that she’s willing to associate with Lisa when Lisa’s happy, but not when she’s depressed. Tom pointed out, though, that this is not something that’s necessarily easy for an 18-year-old to handle, but still. She should stick by Lisa if she’s a true friend and I told Lisa this.

Some therapist she’s got, too. It’s like she’s either blind or is a biology/meds/hospital freak like too many of them are. First Lisa says this therapist thinks the vacation would do her good, but now she wants Lisa in the hospital. The problem is Tammy. Can’t she see that? She needs to get out of that house! Not to Florida with her dad punching her out, not to a hospital, but out of that house and to a place where she won’t be abused emotionally or physically.

I believe that someday, just like with me, Lisa will stop cutting herself. All one can do is tell her it’s wrong, but then she must go at her own pace and do whatever she’s gonna do. I just hope it won’t take something as extreme as window-jumping to get her to learn her lesson. She’s gonna have to learn it the hard way, but how hard of a way will it be? It scares and saddens me.

She said she’s depressed a lot and sometimes she doesn’t even know why. I suggested she look into her diet. Maybe she doesn’t eat right. Maybe vitamins will help her. Not eating right can mess with moods, so we’ll see.

I just heard a car door that sounded like it could’ve been next door, but I didn’t see anything when I looked out. It’s prime time for them, too. These are their peak hours to come alive.

I got Lisa laughing at the end of our conversation. When I was in Natchaug she snuck a note on my pillow which I found after she, Tammy, and Dad left on one of their visits. It was so sweet, and I think I’ve still got it somewhere around here. She said she really looked up to me then. I told her that I was sorry I wasn’t able to return the favor and leave her a surprise note when she was in Natchaug.

How right people are when they say that age really affects your metabolism and weight. One can control their weight from getting sky-high, but not be thin again. Yesterday, I woke up at 120 again. Did that for about a week. But then I ended up throwing it away by eating myself back up to that infamous 124 cuz I’d gotten some Chinese food. I awoke at 122 today, but who knows how long it’ll be before I’m 120 again? I know I can never be thin again, but I want to try to keep my weight around 120. If I’d been eating normally all along (normal for me is still less than what’s normal for the average person) I’d be in the 140s now, so I can control it to a degree. I could never get under 120, but I can keep from going over 125. My metabolism isn’t at a complete standstill like it was for a while, but it’s still very very slow. Just one extra bite can cost me a few pounds. It’s either a few bites a day and going hungry almost all the time or eating normally and having my weight keep climbing to God knows how high. I can’t afford to let my weight go over 125 cuz then I can barely get in my “rock-out” position and I don’t want to have to keep getting new clothes periodically. All I, or Jenny Craig, or Weight Watchers, or groups like that could do for me would be to control my weight, not lessen it. Again, I could lessen it if I stopped eating, but that’s not something I want to do at this time. Maybe I could bring my weight down in notches like I mentioned before, since I’ve noticed a pattern, but I just don’t have the strength, tolerance, or willpower for that. Maybe I will someday, but for now, I can’t live on just liquids.

Sex is the same old games, lies, and excuses it is 95% of the time. I’m mid-cycle now, so since my husband, who can’t come out and say, “Look. I really don’t want a kid, I’m 95% sure you’re sterile and not 100%, so let’s not screw today,” we had to play games instead. The usual - wouldn’t go inside, went soft, blamed it on some bogus thing. He was lined up just fine, I guided him in as usual, but as soon as he was in, that old subconscious fear kicked in and he deflated. Then this time, he blamed it on feeling like he was rubbing against bone or something that hard that hurt him. And I also need to let him stick it in there from now on. I do? Since when? There’d be no problem with my sticking it in there if he’d just let himself stay hard enough to get in there, and if he’d just drop his silly fears. But I know we can’t help what’s in our subconscious. I just wish he’d stop being so stubborn and not deny my belief of a subconscious fear going on within him. I wish he’d consider it and look into it, but nope. So maybe this is conscious. Maybe he knows what he’s doing and enjoys it. He didn’t seem so upset afterward. Instead, he was all playful and cheery. He didn’t act anything like a man who didn’t get his fun would normally act. Well, he has a hand. He can take care of himself and so can I. I can’t keep going round and round in circles here with the same old bullshit, games, lies, denial, and lame excuses for another 5 years. The 5 years I’ve already had are more than enough for me. He’s gonna have to fend for himself, which is obviously what he prefers most of the time and he doesn’t seem to mind, especially around mid-cycle time.

And of course, there’s always God who’s still acting like there’s some big pregnancy to delay. It’s all so fucking weird! Why would God still want to hex me sexually? Can’t he see it doesn’t hurt or faze me like it used to? I’ll write about how our sex life is, whenever there is one which there isn’t too often, but I’m too used to it for it to affect me negatively anymore.

Later…

I forgot to say earlier, that while there are signs pointing to Tom having a subconscious fear/problem, there are also things that point the other way. After our little charade yesterday, we were discussing it and at one point I told him I bet he wouldn’t go down on me, then screw me. His response was that he’d go down on me, but not screw, cuz he had to work on the computers. He’d been working on the computers all along, so why were they suddenly more important? See? He didn’t even want to screw all along. I’m sure he took care of himself.

Later…

Here’s another thing I forgot to mention since not writing for a few days makes you forget some stuff - I got a message from Andy. Last Friday I left him a message asking what was going on with him and he left me a message saying that the reason he hasn’t called is cuz he feels like a loser. He said he’s a jobless loser, getting fired really fucked with his head, he’s not suicidal but he’s miserable and tired of being alone and penniless. He said I didn’t need to call him back cuz I didn’t need his misery.

I called him back, but not live. I used the message send to let him know he can confide in me when he’s down, not to think he’s a burden to me, and maybe, just maybe, once again, this is a sign saying he should either get out of the restaurant business or think of heading back east. I told him to call me when he’s ready to and wished him luck for when he goes job hunting again.

Tom’s out now taking care of God’s favorite work to sic us with - car trouble. It’ll be in the dealer’s shop for a day or two, so we’re gonna be getting a rental car ourselves. Sometimes it feels like we’re never gonna get ahead. I mean, I know there are people older than us with much less than we have, and that we’ve come a long way financially, and that we’ll progress even more in time, but we’re middle-aged now and stuck with two dumpy houses and two shitty cars. This is like 20s kind of thing. I thought that most folks should be doing better than that by the time they reached their 30s and 40s. I kind of feel like we’re the underdogs of both our families. Everyone else has the better houses, the better cars, the better jobs, and their sex and sex parts were probably never hexed, either (except for Mary). I know I’m being a bit selfish and spoiled by saying these things. Some people don’t even have the two shitty houses and cars to begin with. I sure as hell had nothing but a dumpy apartment and no car or pool at one time, so I shouldn’t complain. This is heaven compared to what I used to have.

One thing I’ve really learned over the years is just how blessing and cursing God can be. He threw me from one problem to another. Took me out of the cigarette problem and into a weight problem. They say the first year is always the toughest when it comes to a major change. I wish accepting and adapting to my new weight took just 4 months like it took me to adapt to not smoking. Acceptance will come in time as long as I don’t push it. I’ve had to accept several things in the past and I can accept a life of fatness, too. I have no choice. I have to, cuz this fat’s not going anywhere. I will never ever be thin again and I tell myself that every day to help drill reality and acceptance into me. I try to remind myself that it’s the person that counts. I’m still me with the same old heart and soul underneath this big body and I can still lead a happy, productive life as a big person.

I sent Andy a phone card which I’m sure he’ll use within the first hour he receives it, along with a letter. I threw in some encouraging words for him and reminded him that if true love is meant to be, we don’t have to go out looking for it. It’ll come to us. I also copied in an excerpt from 1988 (one of our prank phone calling sprees), and one about Melanie.

Speaking of Melanie, I wonder if she’ll be the one to call me this Wednesday to remind me of our Thursday appointment. She calls me on Fridays to remind me of our usual Monday appointments cuz it’s obviously convenient for her to do so on Fridays and the secretary that’s usually there isn’t there on Fridays. At least I think she isn’t. I’ve never been called by Melanie on any other day other than Friday, so we’ll see, but I doubt it’ll be her calling on Wednesday.

My ma says she’ll be putting out a trace on that box to see why I didn’t get it. I know why I didn’t get it. I didn’t get it cuz it was misdelivered and the person that got the box isn’t about to return it to me. Must be my punishment for opening and keeping the bitch’s mail. But the punishment doesn’t seem to fit the crime. She got basically junk mail. We’re talking about objects for me.

It’s a good thing I was up at 9:30 PM on the 4th. That way I could see the fireworks they usually have at the fairgrounds from out back and not be woken up by them.

I wouldn’t let Tom touch me yesterday and he didn’t even ask to. He didn’t need to. Not with his fears and his preferring to take care of himself.

Later…

Oh great! This is just fucking great. God, get this dude off my ass and into a job that he can keep for more than a week! Yeah, Andy just left a message. He’s gonna sell some CDs cuz he needs the money, wants to know if I want to go with him to sell CDs of my own, and then he wants to come over and go swimming and get fed. He says he has to beg. Well, why doesn’t he just put down the weed and phone and go out and get a job?

Maybe this sounds cruel since he helped me when I needed it, but I’m gonna leave him a message later saying I was asleep when he called. I just don’t want to give in to him cuz then he’ll make a habit of it and we don’t have much food here. As I’ll tell him, I don’t have much food cuz although I may not be able to get back down to 100 pounds, I don’t want to go above 120-125 pounds, either. Meanwhile, I don’t have any CDs to sell, and he can use the pool whenever he wants. Just don’t knock on the door if there’s no answer, and keep the gate shut so Bunny doesn’t get out. I’ll also let him know a phone card is on its way to him since the phone is as important to him as food.

Later…

Andy just left another message, chewing away on the phone since I’ve asked him not to do that cuz it’s so gross, saying he’s gonna come over to go swimming, but won’t knock on the door. He better shut that gate and not let Bunny out. Maybe I’ll go out when I hear him out there and say I just got up, but he’s not getting any of our food. He’s a big boy and he’s not disabled in the way I am with a scheduling problem and he’s not a retard like Fran, so he has to get off his own ass and get a job and learn to shut up and keep it. I’m sick of his pestering me with the phone and I’ll be damned now if he thinks he can turn our kitchen into a restaurant. I guess he got his neighbor to feed him and is gonna go food shopping later with the CD money. He also says he’ll be over to use the pool in two hours, which really means 4 or none at all.

Later…

I just left Andy a message lecturing him about getting a job in a loving, positive, yet firm way. I told him he could use the pool anytime as long as he doesn’t knock on the door when he gets no answer by phone and as long as he shuts the gate, but no food. I’m also leaving the clothes I’ll never be thin enough again to wear (or at least not in the near future) for him to give to Laura. I may or may not pop out to say hi to him when and if he gets here.

Later…

Andy’s still not here. Let me guess, he just said he was gonna come use the pool in the hopes of playing phone with me, huh? Well, he either shows up to use the pool or he doesn’t, but he just better remember not to knock if he wants to stay alive cuz Tom’s crashed on the living room couch.

Sometimes I feel that if I don’t hear from Andy for at least a year, it’ll be too soon.

The thought of having to go hungry for the rest of my life just to maintain the same weight, which is still 20 pounds too much for me, is a bit depressing. I try not to let it get me down since there’s nothing I can do about it and since being bummed about it won’t change it. It’s either go hungry on just a bite a day or keep gaining weight till I’m like my sister at 200 pounds.

I wonder if it’ll storm tonight. It’s very windy out now. The wind’s blowing in a steady stream like a giant fan blowing.

Somehow, I’m not surprised, but Andy never came over. I hope today he’ll be out looking for a job even if it’s the same old thing that he’ll only have for a week. Right now, he’s not even trying. Not one ounce of effort has he put into it as far as I know.

At 8:00 last night, I heard the bitch talking to someone whose voice I couldn’t hear for about 5 minutes. Again, as loud as the bitch talks, I couldn’t make out a word.

Then a half-hour later it rained big time! Lots of rain came down, but not much in the way of thunder and lightning.

I was really pissed at God yesterday for letting poor Tom be run through the mill for nothing. According to the car dealer, there’s nothing wrong with the car. So he had to end up staying up for about 34 hours for nothing. And today he can’t catch up on his sleep, either cuz his mother has an appointment that he has to take her to after he gets out of work.

I may not be up tomorrow when the dentist’s office calls to remind me of my appointment, no matter who ends up calling.

After eating just one low-fat/cal TV dinner yesterday, and some grapes, peaches, popcorn, and graham crackers, I woke up almost back to 120. Like I said, 120s is as low as I can go, but if I can keep it nailed down at 120 and not rise above that - fine. I’ll settle for that if I must, but I just wish it wasn’t so hard to do! I’m starving all the time.

Later…

Ma found the box that didn’t get here! I was shocked. Apparently, Dad wrote the wrong number on it. He reversed it, I guess, and it ended up in Jacksonville, but is now on its way here.

Later…

Mama bitch’s last batch of kittens must now be able to fend for themselves, cuz she’s hanging in the yard a lot again. She’s skinny now, but I’m sure she just conceived her next batch and I’ll look forward to them being born so she’s out of the yard a lot again. I’m surprised White Paws hasn’t had a second batch yet and that the bitch’s last batch isn’t in our yard yet.

It dawned on me, though, that the bitch could’ve had the kittens at the side of the freeloader’s house since there really aren’t any other dogless yards around, and front yards and alleys are out of the question. If the freeloaders found the kittens, they probably got rid of them somehow. If they can’t have a dog, that wouldn’t necessarily mean they’d want kittens. They don’t bark.

Today Lisa’s leaving for Florida (and I guess Sarah and Becky are, too) and she won’t be back for two weeks. Please, God, look out for her! Don’t let Bill hit her. I know you love a child-smacker God, but I don’t. So please, just this once, keep this girl safe. Keep Bill’s paws to himself.

I not only feel like God’s blessed me in several ways, but I feel like he’s a thief, too. I don’t just feel like he stole my right to choose as a woman, and that he stole my figure, among other things, but I feel like he’s stolen things from me, too. His seeing to it that that fan broke makes me feel like he’s taken the fan from me. I can’t have that fan cuz he won’t let it work and I feel like that’s the same as if he reached an arm down and swiped it. Same goes for the clothes I’m giving Laura. I feel like I’m being forced, once again, out of these clothes which I loved. I want to wear my leopard cut-off jeans, but I can’t cuz God won’t let me cuz he won’t let me be thin again. It’s like he’s stolen these clothes and making me give them up against my will.

Later…

Wow. Andy did show up to use the pool after all, but he didn’t take the bag of clothes cuz he didn’t know they were for him to take. He didn’t get the messages I left till after he returned home. He said that yes, he did get chased by bees and was only here for 10 minutes. He said he could hear us talking, but not make out what we were saying. Well, I appreciate his not knocking and interrupting us.

Andy says he’s going to look for a job today. God, please let him find one and please let him keep this job for over a week!

Later…

It’s a good thing I’m not asleep now and that Tom’s a heavy sleeper, cuz tonight’s storm is even louder than last night’s. It was so nice, though, cuz until the lightning and thunder got closer, I was in the pool. I love it when it’s light enough to see any dead bugs on the water’s surface, but when I can swim without fear of bees. The water was beautiful, too.

It rained hard a couple of times and of course, I’m forced to play the game of leak and bucket. Now we’re even leaking in the music room. Tom says it’s probably come through where the AC attaches to the roof and they just didn’t seal it up very well. I knew we wouldn’t be getting a free AC without some problems attached but why is God so obsessed with sticking us with car trouble and leaks?

Tweety likes the storm. He’s out there singing to it.

OK, now I don’t know what the fuck I heard for sure, but I could’ve sworn that about an hour ago, I heard that dog bark once that they had from July to December and I did have a July dog vibe, even though it faded somewhat. A little while ago I heard an obvious, deliberate car door slam in the freeloader’s carport. If he’s back, a dog makes sense. The cock and a dog would go hand in hand, and I’ll have Tom take a look when he leaves for work. Cuz at that hour, the dog, if there is one over there, wouldn’t be in the yard. It’d be hooked to the car in the carport for me to hear.

A white car just left the freeloaders. I don’t know why it bothered to pull into the carport if it was just to drop the bitch off and why they had to slam doors 4-5 times, but with the way these people are obsessed with being heard, acknowledged, and noticed by me, you never know for sure what’s on these sick fuck’s minds. And they wish I’d accept them, too, and realize they’re just as good as whites, according to the bitch that called us a few months back preaching about that. Yeah right! They can all go fuck themselves as far as I’m concerned. A good 98% of them are fucked and you know what? I’ve learned that blacks in a house in a white, middle-class, normal, decent neighborhood are no different than blacks in a project. I wouldn’t piss on them things next door if they were on fire.

I’d say that there’s definitely not a dog next door, though, cuz by now I’d have heard a million barks if it were there. If a dog comes over there at any time, though, I’m calling housing and getting rid of it.

I’m going to straighten my hair in a few minutes, but first, a white car was at the freeloaders' place an hour ago. This time, I heard a male voice. It sounded a little younger than the cock, so maybe it was the kid. After 4-5 door slams, it left. No car was there late last night and there’s definitely no dog over there cuz it’s too quiet. I must’ve heard someone walking a dog or something.

Later…

Tom brought up a good point about Lisa and I hope he’s right. Since people tend to behave differently around different people, maybe Bill won’t smack the shit out of Lisa. Bill may be reluctant to hit her in front of his folks, even if they’re pretty sick, too. I hope he’s right and that Lisa has a good time. Yes, her problems will still be at home waiting for her return, but she needs a break!

I found a site on the internet where I could get two 8x10 autographed pictures of Jenny Seagrove (Norah), but it came to 20 English pounds which is something like 33 American dollars. Not worth it. Besides, who knows how she looks in these pictures and if she’s older, younger, or has her hair short.

Tom’s running around saying I jinxed him by telling him what I vibed. I told him that as far as his cars go, God wants him to fix them himself to run him ragged and keep him tied up and that he’s gonna have regular car trouble. Especially since his cars are older. Early 80s.

Andy’s cursed in sex and jobs. Tom’s cursed in cars and leaks. I’m cursed with sex and sleep. I threw the sex out the window, but not all curses can be avoided and or thrown away. I can’t say, “Well, I’ll just quit sleeping so I don’t ever have to worry about being woken up, being on a crazy schedule, or not being able to sleep with Tom.”

I’m reading a pretty good book. It’s the last one I got at that used bookstore. Tomorrow after seeing Melanie, we’ll stop in there to pick up some more. This book’s based on a true story about a woman raped by a ghost. Now that’s hard to imagine!

I guessed right too, about who would call to remind me of tomorrow’s appointment. The secretary that I see whenever I go there called. I think her name’s Trish.

Last night Tom was saying I looked thinner and I thought I felt thinner too, but we were obviously seeing and feeling things, cuz I woke up at 121. Must be that I’m not as watery as I normally am. It’s really sick, but I could eat my way up to 124 by the end of the day and by the end of the weekend, I could be close to 130. Eating just a bite a day is hard! And all this hard work isn’t to lose weight, it’s to keep the same weight that’s much too much for me anyway. I can’t believe I gotta slave my ass off just to keep from going from heavy, to even heavier! You mean I gotta live the rest of my life either hungry or very very very big? Shit!

Anyway, I’m kind of treating the food like cigarettes. I slowly cut down until I had no cigarettes. I’m slowly cutting down my food till I’m on just liquids. It’s so fucking hard, though, that I’m still tempted to let my body do what it’s comfortable doing and what’s natural for an older non-smoker and just eat and let myself gain however many more pounds I’m gonna gain, cuz it’s hungry on just one TV dinner, a bowl of popcorn, and some graham crackers a day, and we only live once.

Later…

The bitch just got dropped off by the Caddy. Then who was the prick in the white car talking to if she was gone all day?

I should never have quit smoking, as much as I’ve wanted to for years. I just swapped in one problem for another. When I smoked, I could sometimes breathe, but now that I traded in the cigs for the fat, I’m not sometimes thin. My breathing trouble varied as a smoker, but as a fat person, there’s no varying from thin to fat. This is a new kind of fat. One that I’ve never had to deal with before and that stays with me no matter what. Like a faithful lover hugging me and surrounding me constantly.

Acceptance. Acceptance is the key.

Woke up at a shocking 118½ pounds! I could not believe it. Yesterday I got to thinking that maybe I should treat food the way I did with the cigarettes. I slowly cut down the cigarettes till there were no more. It took me months to get used to this, but I did in time. I shared this idea with my folks and my mom’s reply was that it’d get easier in time. Good for you. So this helped motivate me and yesterday all I had was one low-fat/cal TV dinner, a bowl of popcorn, and some graham crackers. Today I’ve had my one TV dinner and my popcorn so far. 

Yesterday I also walked 2.3 miles for 45 minutes. I only walked 14 minutes so far today at just over a mile, but maybe I’ll walk more later before my twilight swim.

Ma was right. It was hard at first to make this new adjustment and still is at times, but if I could quit smoking and tough out that till the cravings went away, then why can’t I tough this out too, and lose the weight and get used to a diet of very little food? Well, I still won’t get my hopes up but will try my best.

I got potentially good news from Andy, who I hope won’t bug me with calls all weekend. He may be working at Red Lobster or some other place. I hope to hell he gets a job and keeps it. Obviously, he must really love serving food, cuz he just keeps right on going back to restaurants. And I know he’ll flirt, too, no matter who else is or isn’t doing the same thing. I just hope he doesn’t get fired for a few weeks, instead of after just one.

I wish to hell Andy would get a boyfriend, too. Not just cuz he deserves one and wants one, but cuz he may be too preoccupied to call me as much with one, but I don’t know. Thank God he has Michelle to call every day, cuz then it’d be even worse, and Andy’s just not one you can ask a favor of. If you ask him to please not do something, he does it anyway. If you ask him to come over and take packages inside for you while you’re out of town, he calls playing dumb on your machine while he knows damn well you’re gone, and asks for you to do him a favor.

At 9 PM my time, midnight my folk’s time, we’ll be going online to chat. She sent me an email yesterday while I was online, then I replied, then she sent me an instant message, and she, Dad, and I gabbed for a bit. She said she, dad, and “mas” were there. Then she said not “mas,” it is “max” (she used no caps) and then I replied saying I was “shitting” around. That’s “sitting” around, not “shitting.” Haha. She said she thought so.

Later…

Did a total of 27 minutes of walking and I went for a dip in the pool. Somebody thumped by really loud while I was out there. Must’ve been Caddy Kid. I could smell the freeloader’s dinner. They usually eat between 7:00 - 7:30. Sometimes I still burn with anger towards this bitch for having the nerve she’s got to have pulled all the shit she’s pulled on me (along with the dick) and I have to do all I can do to keep from going over there and placing my fist through her face. It’s great while the cock’s not around and I don’t have to listen to 6 sets of loud door slams. Many times a day that fuckaroo would slam doors 4-10 times.

Talked to my folks on AOL for about 20 minutes. They’re having a string of bad luck. They got a flat tire and their water tank went out just like ours did a few years ago.

Saw Melanie today. She definitely does not share a mutual attraction or interest in any way. I can just tell. She looked beautiful, though. Her hair wasn’t straightened, but she had it in a loose ponytail with a few stray strands at the sides and it looked so much better than it did swept up off her forehead. I was in and out really quick. She tightened the area where the impacted tooth is.

I sent Tammy a letter and even thought of sending one to Anna and Harry, but I never hear from them. All I ever got was just that one letter. They’ve got my number and address. Shouldn’t I wait and let them contact me if they want to?

Paula tried calling. The other night I was thinking of her and realized it was about time again for me to hear from her. At least she’s not a pest like Andy and there’s something new to tell her by the time we talk again. It keeps it more special and exciting that way.

After seeing Melanie we went back to that used bookstore. The same guy was there that’s very nice. I got 11 books for $16.

I walked a little further for less time today. Went 2.6 miles in 40 minutes, rather than 2.3 miles in 45 minutes.

Damn! I still get these fucking dizzy spells every day. It’s like I’m lightheaded and it takes several minutes before it goes away.

Last night I said, “Well, I guess I’m gonna be an official fuck-up, cuz I’m gonna have a second TV dinner.” I was so fucking hungry. But it didn’t curb my hunger. The hunger stayed with me and it turned into nausea. I didn’t end up puking, but I learned from it. I learned not to eat more just cuz I’m hungry cuz it probably won’t do shit. Today’s been easier and I’ve been sticking to the plan - one TV dinner, a bowl of popcorn, some graham crackers, a few grapes. On top of my water, coffee, and daily vitamins.

I woke up at 119 and am now 121. No one should gain two pounds from just one TV dinner, some popcorn, and a few grapes and graham crackers, so maybe it’s water. I’m only a week away from my period.

I think I was right about the notches, though. Meaning, if I have periods of time where I barely eat for a few days, I seem to drop a couple of pounds. It’s still so hard to believe that there was a time when I couldn’t gain weight if I tried. Now it takes a massive effort just to stay right around where I am. I still don’t see myself down to 100 pounds. Not even down to 110, but oh well. I just hope my mother’s right about it getting easier with time to go on just a few bites a day, just like it got easier with time to not smoke. I think I will get used to it. I think I’m starting to already, but it’s too soon to tell for sure.

My allergies were picking up on me again, so I changed the mice’s cages. I spent nearly two hours working on the mice and the bird’s cage.

This weekend Tom will be tied up doing yard work and working on his car. At least he’s got the brains for it. His other family members may have better cars, better houses, better jobs, and better sex lives, but they don’t have better brains. Sorry he has to deal with shit that’s not exactly fun, but at least I don’t have to worry about any weekend sex games. There’ll be no time, and also, I told him I want him as a love partner and to spend my life with him, but not as a sex partner. I’m sick of the shit in bed I went through with him year after year.

Andy left a message saying he got hired at Red Lobster. Great. Hope he stays there for more than a week, too.

Marla’s at the beach now, but I’m sure she’ll find out about his new job. She said the beach next to Old Colony Beach was closed due to some bacteria found in the water. Well, she’s not about to go into the water even if they’re allowed to what with it being just a few yards away.

I got up at 2:45 this afternoon (at 119) and took a couple more Benadryl to see if I could slam myself back down for a few more hours, but I just wouldn’t go under. Instead, all I ended up with was a dry mouth and a very groggy me. I laid there a few more hours, but then that got old and I got up. 

Tom went to bed at 8:00 and I’ll be getting him up at 2:00. Then we’ll go for a quick dip in the pool, then head to a casino on the Indian reservation.

Tom trimmed the hedges in back today and worked on the car. The car failed Emissions again.

My parents haven’t said anything about Lisa and Bill stopping by, so does this mean they haven’t and aren’t going to? I just wish my folks weren’t so blind when it comes to Bill. I wish they could see him for the violent whore of a scumbag he really is. Instead, all they see is his being Jewish. Oh yeah, that really counts now, doesn’t it?

The more I think about it, the more I realize just how much Andy loves serving food. Although he’s been through 50 jobs, you gotta really love being a waiter and doing the cleaning that’s involved in that to be doing it for over 15 years. Tom says he thinks he likes interacting with all the people. I think so. He hates people about as much as I do, but he’s lonely and desperate for any attention he can get, negative or not. I couldn’t imagine doing work that involved a lot of people no matter how lonely or desperate I was. I am just not a people person.

I asked Tom what he thinks is the reason the bitch next door’s not having the Lopezs watch the animal. He says that they don’t do it for free and that he doesn’t think they do daycare during the summers.

There’s something I wonder about Tammy. We all have things we can’t live without. I can’t live without my stereo. Tammy can’t live without a man. Well, my question is, had she not found Mark whom she knew a couple of years before kicking Bill out, would she have kicked him out? Like most people won’t quit an old job before finding a new one, it seems she wasn’t about to throw Bill out without having something steady going that she could transfer right into.

Later…

Fuck! Is my metabolism ever gonna speed up? I know I’m stuck today, but still, I gained 3 pounds just for eating one small TV dinner and a few graham crackers. Being stuck will keep a person from losing weight, but I guess any more weight loss is gonna have to be done in stages. Each stage will take a while. Just like in the past. For a while, I hung at 122-124, then 120-122, now 119-121.

Just observed the usual routine - the Caddy came, the black cock came, the black bitch deliberately slammed her door very loud, then all was gone.

White Paws has been doing some disappearing acts. Has she had kittens again, only smartened up like her mother and had them elsewhere? She came from the freeloader’s yard and again, did she have kittens in the freeloader’s yard?

If my horoscope is right, this doctor I’m going to today will be quite bossy. Who else would boss me around? Not Tom. Well, the worst that can happen is that I don’t like her and don’t see her again.

I talked with Andy last night. I don’t believe him, but he says that if he loses this job, then he’ll go for a career change. He said he also went to a lezzy bar with Michelle. He brought his tambourine as an attention-getter. He’s soooo desperate for attention. Any attention. It’s sad. He lets guys pick him up that approach him on his late-night walks. He sucks their dicks. He’s gonna die of AIDS!

Yesterday at 3 AM, we went to the Indian reservation and this time, we held our own for longer than 5 minutes but didn’t really win. I did win $30 at one point but ended up giving it right back.

Tom trimmed the tree out front and found a problem with the car. Is it ever gonna pass Emissions, though?

I’m kind of tired cuz I had my sleep broken up. I amazingly did get to my 9:30 appointment yesterday, but when I fell asleep around noon, I woke up at 4:00 and couldn’t go back to bed till 8:00. When I did, I slept till midnight.

Dr. Brown seems nice enough. She’s in her 40s and might be a lesbian. She put me back on Vanceril (preventative inhaler) and renewed my Proventil inhalers (for wheezing). As she said, it’s seasonable and different things can trigger asthma and allergies. She didn’t ask any personal questions and I did right by God and myself and I followed my heart and said nothing about sex and sterility. I just don’t want to deal with the sex part of it and I don’t want a child anymore. She did suggest a pelvic exam, but I don’t feel I need one.

I told her how I have a lot of water retention and how 10 years ago I took a pill for that on the 15th day of my cycle till I got my period, and it reduced the water and slimmed me down. She wrote me a prescription for a water pill and like before, I must take a source of potassium with it, like a glass of orange juice.

I don’t know if the dream I had last night is a sign or what. In the dream, I was taking some sort of dance class. I asked a girl in the class to be honest and tell me if she thought I was fat. She said no. Like Tom pointed out, I’m not physiologically the same as I was 10 years ago, so it may not do much to slim me down even if a lot of my bigness is water retention. Still, if it helps some, then some is better than none.

I asked Ma if I could take my little sound spa (that plays sounds of rain, oceans, etc.) when I come to Florida. She asked if it was necessary. I told her it kind of was, but that it’s her house, so if she says no, then I won’t bring it. I told her if she had a fan that wasn’t whisper-quiet, that that’d help too, since I’m a light sleeper and since Tom snores. God, I hate traveling. Cuz of how light I sleep, my screwy schedule, my being a homebody, I just am not fond of traveling.

I was surprised to get a message from Tammy just wanting to say hi. She said things were good with her (wow!) and that was nice of her. I left her a message too, since she was heading out with Mark and his daughter when she called. I told her I was in a room where the loud fan was and didn’t hear her call, Tom was asleep and I was tired, but was glad she was doing well. I told her we were well, too, and that I’d call tomorrow (today now).

Neither Kim nor I have heard from Bob. Has he had heart attack number 50? Every other letter he’s had either a stroke or a heart attack, so who knows what’s up with him? Wouldn’t the prison contact someone if he kicked the bucket? Well, I sent him a letter. I don’t contact him much, but he got one and so did Tammy, since she never seems to be on AOL anymore. I don’t know why she keeps her account with them.

Wow! It’s to be 112º today and 114º tomorrow. I don’t think I’ll leave Tweety out.

Later…

Tom got two awards at work. One says: teamwork award - third shift sorter 100% exceptions in June warrant quality. The other says: top performer award 25,551,213 items processed.

He also picked me up my prescriptions and I started the water pill.

I forgot to say yesterday, the waiting room was amazingly empty and there wasn’t a shitload of waiting time to do as I thought there’d be. I don’t know if this was a fluke, but I thought that since Melanie’s waiting room is pretty empty and since she gets me in on time, I’d be compensated with this one. I thought I’d have 20-30 minutes to wait in the waiting room, then 20 more minutes to wait after the nurse brought me into the exam room.

The nurse cleaned the bad ear with a water gun.

Later…

The phantom box finally came. Ma says, believe it or not, she has another box to come to us in a few weeks.

There were a lot of cute cards and postcards. I’ll be distributing the postcards between Larry, Sandy, Jen, Tammy, Lisa, Becky, Sarah, and Kim. I even sent one to Andy. The cards will be great for birthdays and anniversaries. There were a couple of Hanukah and get-well cards, too. There were floral stickers that I’ll use to decorate the envelopes.

As usual, a couple of glass knickknacks got smashed, but the few knickknacks that did make it are cute. There was an Arizona pin that I think I remember seeing on my mom when she was here, a couple of bracelets (one really nice one with charms), a glass and suction cup thermometer with birds, and a couple of vases, and a Star of David-shaped pasta.

Tammy called to tell me how wonderful Mark still is, how she’s getting a golden retriever named Shane, and how pissed she is at mom and dad. The girls will be staying with them for one night.

I asked her how she can be so sure that Bill will keep his paws to himself. She said she’d never have let them go with him if she was worried and that Larry put the fear into him. By Larry’s state complaint, and this isn’t the first, Bill’s gonna be all the more afraid to step out of line. Well, if what Larry did will make him behave, great.

I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if someone in the family weren’t eventually murdered. I will never ever go to my parents’ funerals for fear of either getting shot or killing someone myself. Not to mention the fact that I can mourn their loss no matter where I was and just don’t ever want to return to New England for reasons that are obvious to those who know me as well as my husband does. I’m OK with never seeing Tammy and Larry again if that’s the way it goes. Lisa, I believe, will come out here. If not to live, then to visit.

Sometimes I still think I should’ve just walked away from my whole family except for Lisa years ago, cuz I burn with anger at some of the things I hear and I sometimes feel it’d be easier if I did just walk away. I get so fucking pissed sometimes when I think of my uncles, and even Larry and my folks still. I want to give people a piece of my mind when I hear they’ve said or done shit that pisses me the fuck off, but I can’t cuz that’d be betraying the trust of the person who confided in me in the first place. And also, it wouldn’t do any good. My stubborn family is set in their ways.

Tammy said she’ll never forgive Dad for what he recently said to her. I half agree with what Dad said to her which was that it’s all Tammy’s fault that Lisa’s suicidal, she should’ve let her live with Larry. He also brought up her exes.

How can a parent side with one of their kids like this and pit one against the other? It’s sick! Yes, Tammy’s mainly to blame for how Lisa is today, and I think Lisa would be better off at Larry’s, but is my father forgetting that he and Ma weren’t parents of the century? Have they forgotten just what shitty parents they were and how they were responsible for making someone feel suicidal too (Tom feels they do feel responsible)? And what with how my folks preach about how bad it is to rehash the past, why’d they bring up the past? How is bringing up Dick and Joe gonna change the past or fix the present? I love my dad, my dad’s got a lot of smarts, but what a stupid, stupid, fuck he can be. What a blind, arrogant little fuck!

Tom’s kind of avoiding contact with David and Evie now cuz their TV’s broken and he doesn’t want to fix it. Again, his family may have the better cars, the better houses, the better jobs, and they obviously have no problem in bed, but they don’t have the better brains.

Guess next door’s not the only subsidized freeloaders on this street. About 10-15 houses down on the other side of the street, there appears to be another city home. Tom doesn’t think it’s a city-owned house, but these sure are some weird fucking freeloaders. A guy was hosing down the roof. What would he be doing that for? Then there was a black girl and a black boy of about 8 and 10 years of age.

Oh my God! I don’t believe it. I’ve been up 10 hours and I weigh what I weighed when I got up - 119! Is it cuz of the water pill? Tom doesn’t feel that has any connection to weight loss. Well if it doesn’t, then this is a hell of a coincidence.

I hope Andy’s enjoying his new job. More importantly, I hope he’s still there.

I feel bad for Michelle. I know what she’s going through. She’s big, but she’s feminine and she’s attracted to feminine women. But just like I used to, she goes into the bars and finds that fems want butches and vice versa. She feels it’s hopeless and that if she ever has sex (she has never had sex with a woman or a man and is 24 years old) it won’t be in this century.

Andy says that if he could get away with making prank phone calls like he could years ago, he’d still be making them. Yeah, I believe it. He hasn’t changed much. He’s more sensitive and you can talk to him about problems, but he’s still the same old guy otherwise.

Not much to update on at the moment. Just that the freeloader was parked next door when I got up at 6 PM. An hour later it quietly left. If I didn’t see it leave, I may not have known it, save for hearing the engine rev up. No car door. No music.

What was it doing here? Making nicey-nicey with its bitch? God, not yet! When I see the U-Haul, and I know I will sooner or later, then that’ll mean it’s back, but not this soon, please!

Guess the bitch stayed home yesterday, cuz no Caddy or freeloader pulled in at just after 7:00 as usual.

As God would have it and will always have it, he’s keeping Tom a slave to our shit of a car. One of them, anyhow.

Later…

Oh my God! Now I’m 118 and I’ve been up for hours. I did a test and ate a hot dog, then re-weighed myself and guess what? I weighed the same! That means my metabolism really is starting to roll. I really think this is it. I’m going to lose weight and that dream I had was not just a dream. It was something’s way of telling me I could begin losing weight now.

I thought about going into that bag of clothes I set aside for Laura and taking back some pieces I really love, but nah. That might hex it. And besides, since I have to pay for everything good that comes my way, maybe God will feel that giving up some clothes I really love is payment enough. I’ll just start over if I really do get thin again, as I feel I will, and buy new clothes.

This water pill really is some potent stuff and I probably won’t take it tomorrow.

Later…

What a gorgeous night it is. It’s quite warm, but the pool temperature’s just perfect. It must be in the low 90s. I swam up and down and just enjoyed the peace and quiet of the night. I made my swim physical for the exercise part of it, but then I also relaxed and had fun just floating about.

It’s been really hot and the summer we thought we’d never have, has been here for a while now. I’ll be looking forward to the monsoons, but not the humidity that comes with it, or playing the game of leak and bucket.

I feel better than I did yesterday. I felt a little bummed yesterday, but nothing compared to what I’d go through back when I wanted a kid. My period’s starting and hopefully it won’t be just a spot, then I’ll have to wait another week before having a full flow. Hopefully, it’ll take off within the next day or so.

Blackie and Velvet really love to sit and stare at each other. He gets Velvet bouncing around.

Anyway, I feel so blessed to have a guy like Tom who wants me forever. He may be a sexual misfit, but he sure is one in a million and I could never live without him.

I thank God that I’m dreamless at the moment. That’s a rare occasion in my life. I mean, I still want to move, of course, but that’s a material dream. One that’s sure to happen, too. It’s just a matter of time. So, aside from being thin again, and wishing I could change a few of my personal traits, I’m at peace and I hope to hell I never dream again. Cuz if I do (a non-material dream), the answer’s no. Nothing I could want really, really bad could ever be granted to me. Nothing that I want really, really bad that’s on my mind day in and day out, year after year. God, please don’t ever let me dream again!!

Later…

It looks like my payment for losing some weight is that old horniness and thoughts of a kid kicking up again. I hate being horny a lot. I mean, after my period, it’ll simmer down, but there’s nothing like being horny a lot with a busy, dead-dicked husband. Remember, I love my husband, but not in bed. And I hate thinking of the impossible. I have to remember that God sterilized me for a reason. He knew I could never handle a child. He knew I’d be more miserable than ever if I had to give up my life and freedom to a child.

Even so, I’ve decided that I’m sick of living a life of wondering why I’m sterile. I know I’ll feel better about myself if I just stop being a wimp, put my superstitions and suspicions aside, and just find out whatever modern technology can tell me. That way I won’t wonder year and year and it won’t eat at me as much. Stupid, I know. Like Tom will let me get as far as getting any real answers? I don’t think so! I know the first thing they’re gonna do is tell us to screw for several days in a row at certain times. And of course, he’s gonna conveniently not be able to get in there and if he does get in there, he’s just gonna be too tired or sore to cum.

Well, there’s no sense in wishing to be someone I’m not. The kind of woman who sleeps with her husband, holds a schedule without a problem, has a healthy, normal sex life, is all-woman, has a child she can handle, is not who I am. No, it’s not that I’m back to wanting a kid. I don’t want to suffer from what a kid would entail. I just sometimes wish I was different, is all. Most of the time, though, I love my uniqueness. It’s all I know.

The weekends approach really fast these days. It seems like it goes from Monday to Friday overnight. Nonetheless, it should remain peaceful if the cock stays out of the picture. It, and the caddy, came to pick up the bitch and kid yesterday morning. Tom said the back gate was flapping in the wind yesterday. Fucking Andy! I called and reminded him to shut that gate cuz I don't want the rabbit getting out. He called back saying it wasn't him, but he'll make sure he's careful. Yeah, right. Although, it could've been whoever reads the electric meter.

Well, it looks like we’re gonna be seeing a U-Haul real soon that comes with a tall, skinny, bald freeloader. I knew it was just a matter of time.

No cock and Caddy this morning. Just a white car. I don’t know how long they were there, but the cock’s parked out on the street now and there was a white van, but it just left. No music, but still, why would the cock be there at this hour on a Friday night if he weren’t there to say, “I love you. Let’s make nicey-nice. It’s Friday night. Let’s fuck, kiss, and make up, and I’ll come back to live here and slam doors for next door. Among a few other things.” Well, come on, cock! I’ll just have you and your bitch evicted. Well, maybe it’s here for some other reason. Maybe the kid got sick. I doubt it, though. I think that whoever was in the white van helped to bring some of his stuff back, then they left them to screw each other’s brains out. So, now I can go back to not knowing what to expect when a weekend rolls around, but if he’s not gone by 1 AM (these people are night people) then that’ll be saying that yes, my theory about his being there is right. Or there’s a 98% chance I’m right.

The dog vibe’s gone kind of dormant for now, and the September change vibe’s fading, too. I could bet $100, though, that that cock will be back by September.

Later…

Yeah! Bye, bye, cocky! I just went and looked, and it’s gone. Still, a visit this late worries me. That’s awfully late to be coming over to see the kid or to discuss child support or anything like that.

As I just told my folks in my email to them, it looks like late September is when we’ll be there. I just hope they get the fires under control that they’ve been having due to extreme heat. Thank God my ma smokes outside! I’m not looking forward to this trip. That I won’t lie about. The flying will be the highlight of the whole trip. Things are different now than when I was last there in 1989. I’m not a heavy sleeper sleeping alone. I’m a light sleeper sleeping with a husband who’ll shake and snore me awake. I’m gonna take Benadryl, my sound spa, and maybe even an earplug, but I just hope my schedule will be set enough for this and that I get some sleep. I don’t want to be dog-tired throughout all this. Maybe if I pray to God for his help, he’ll help me. This is one of those prayers that stands a chance of being answered.

If someone had told me, the last time I went to Florida at age 24 from a dive in Massachusetts, that I’d be back 8 years later from Arizona with a husband, I’d never have believed it!

Goldie and Al won’t be there in late September, but hopefully I’ll get to see Charlotte, Jim, Boo, Max, Marty and Ruth. Wish I could see Philip, but somehow, I doubt that. Hope to also meet their friends Gene and Teresa. As much as I hate phone-gabbing, Gene was interesting to talk to. Yes, it ought to be interesting meeting people who can be so persuaded by the powers of good old Dureen. I mean, how can someone influence a man to spend 10 days in their house with their dog while they take a trip? Tom would never leave me for that long and move into someone’s house for 10 days like that to live with their dog.

I didn’t make that pap smear appointment cuz now I’m back to my usual self these days. I feel life’s fine as it is and that I don’t need to know the specifics as to why I’m sterile. Why bother myself with the testing and piss off God just to find out answers to something I’m still not sure anymore that I’d ever want to change? Maybe I should still make the appointment, cuz although it doesn’t eat at me much, it will come back again to eat at me and make me wonder why I am the way I am periodically. Perhaps I’ll feel better about myself if I just find out what I can find out, cuz if I don’t, then I’ll never know, but will always wonder. I know I’m sterile and I know they can’t fix me, but why? Maybe they can’t even tell me why, but who knows for sure?

More good weight news - my metabolism’s really rolling now. Now I’m 1 pound heavier at the end of my day and not 3-5. I woke up at just a tad under 117! Big changes can be made. They just take time. But now that I’m used to my new diet plan, and not hungry a lot like I used to be, and not with a metabolism that doesn’t work, I can afford to relax more and not make sure I only eat a few bites a day. I can afford to take a day off here and there and eat an extra snack if I want to. I actually get full easily again, too. I really, really believe that I won’t be in the 120s again and that if I am, it won’t be for a long time.

Later…

It’s dead calm out there now, but earlier, there was lots of wind, lightning, and a little bit of rain and thunder. The lightning was awesome. Tom said that in the early evening last night, there was lots of rain, so he had to play the leak and bucket game.

I’m doing laundry now and instead of throwing his shirts in our little wimpy dryer, I’ve found that putting the shirts on a hanger and hanging them up on the line outside at this time of year, really helps to dry them better.

It looks like I’m finally getting a full flow here, but not much of one yet. So I guess this is just how I am nowadays. I spot for a few days before I flow.

I asked Tom for his opinion on this - I told him I wasn’t sure if I should make the appointment cuz of how I’m feeling right now, which is how I usually feel - all’s fine the way it is, I’m not that curious as to why I don’t work. But I also know that once every month or two, the questions will be back to eat at me. So, what did he think I should do? He said he thinks I should make the appointment. Just make sure I don’t make it too close to Melanie’s appointments and have several so close together. Don’t want to run him ragged. Maybe I’ll wait till I’m done seeing her every two weeks.

I’ll tell you one thing for sure - I’m not playing the repeat pap game. They get one shot and if they can’t read my culture once - then fuck it.

I don’t know, though, cuz I still feel that if I lift a finger to engage in acts of sex or anything having to do with my female parts, I’m just asking for trouble. They can’t help someone whose sex life is like ours. You just can’t mix sex with a relationship, any more than you can mix business with pleasure, cuz there’s almost always a conflict if you do.

I wasn’t meant to have a normal, healthy sex life. I wasn’t meant to be a total woman and I have no business sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong. Meddling in God’s work and trying to find out how he did what he did, is a no-no that’ll cost me. God’s reasons should be trusted and not questioned, no matter how off the wall they seem.

Marla’s back home. She sent me an email on health insurance, asking me to ask Andy if he wants any info on it. I’m sure he won’t, but I’ll ask him. Andy isn’t interested in anything. If he could have his way for the rest of his life, he’d have 3 hands. In one hand would be a phone, in the other would be a joint, and in the last, a dick.

Tom went out yesterday afternoon after I went to bed and got some better recording equipment and Windows 98.

Ma got a wheelchair the other day for when she goes out. She’s gotten so weak that she can’t cross even the smallest of parking lots.

She turned the title of her Ford Tempo over to Tom, and Tom’s very old Nissan Centra, which is at his ma’s old house, is as good as dead. He went through it and took out all the tools and stuff we want to keep, and it’ll be towed away to a junkyard.

Later…

We went to PetSmart yesterday morning. There was a really cute, curious, and even friendly rat that sniffed my hand. I want a rat sooooooo bad, but he doesn’t like rats cuz he thinks they look mean and ugly. This makes no sense to me cuz mice and rats are one in the same animal. Only one’s real small, one’s not.

They really have a lot of nice, clever, and cute accessories for a variety of animals. They had cute little logs, shoes, and things like that for little critters to burrow in. I got the mice a really cute 3-story house. It’s of clear plastic and is about 8” tall and 4” wide. It’s got a red 1st floor, a purple 2nd floor, an orange 3rd floor, a yellow roof, and a blue chimney. It was so cute to see them crawling around it. It has a cute little pink ladder that goes to the 2nd floor, but they kept knocking it down. So I put it upstairs for them to chew on. Star, who never goes downstairs or up to the maze or over to the left end of the setup, loves playing with it. The first two floors of the house have little clear windows and the top floor has got a few open holes in it. They can’t just walk into the bottom floor from the ground, either. They have to climb up to the middle floor, then drop down into it. I’m surprised they aren’t sleeping on the bottom floor since it’s so dark and enclosed.

Got my first pink piggy bottle, too. One of those kinds that Bunny doesn’t like (our other one leaks). Velvet’s using this pink bottle with the little knob that swivels, and Bunny’s using the old water bottle with the metal rolling ball.

We got Windows 98 yesterday and neither of us is too thrilled with it. The only thing it’s got that I like is how I can choose two different colors for my active and inactive title bars. I don’t like its start menus. Instead of popping up and down, they slide.

I’ve had a setback with the weight. What else is new, huh? I had gotten to 117-119, but now I’m just over 120. It’s my fault for slacking off and getting some munchies yesterday when we were waiting for Walmart to open. I feel teased again, too. I get this water pill, begin losing weight before my period, then get my period which was a light one, and then gain weight. Well, I’m the one who’s been saying for months now how I’m destined to remain heavy. I think I’ve known that deep down and that that dream didn’t really mean anything. Again, if I can stay around the low 120s, I can sit in my “rocking” position easily enough. Meanwhile, I’ll never be thin again. I’ve said it, I’ve known it, so…so be it. Also, I gotta treat food cravings like I treated the cigarette cravings and ignore them cuz they do go away with time. You kind of get used to a new diet after a while, but fortunately, I’m not getting too hungry too often. Not like I used to for a while there.

At Wal-Mart, we were hoping to get an extra, smaller aquarium so I could expand the mice’s setup, but they didn’t have any we wanted. I did get a really neat raft, though. I’ve always wanted one that was airless and that you didn’t need to worry about tearing. I don’t know for sure what type of material it’s made of. Maybe Styrofoam. It’s purple and yellow striped and not as comfortable as an air raft, but it’s still nice.

There was this object that neither of us could be sure of that Ma sent. I described it to her and asked her what it was, but she didn’t know what I was talking about. She asked if I could scan or draw it. Tom scanned it with the VCR, and we attached it to their email, so I’ll wait to see if she can tell me about it.

The weekend was cockless, so it was fine. Tom did see him parked in the street, though, last evening, as if he was taking or dropping off the kid. This morning, Caddy and cock came.

Ma can’t open the picture of the mystery item we filmed and sent her, so I’ll have to wait till Tom gets home to tell me to tell her what to do. Or to tell her himself.

This weekend Tom was really encouraging the sex and pelvic exam appointment. The one where I bring up the sterility (he suggested I don’t make it till after his appointment which is on 8/4). He said he’s ready to try when I am but wouldn’t push me to do anything I didn’t want to do. He said that just because sex doesn’t always turn out the way it should, don’t let that spoil other things. He also feels I should act on having my questions answered, rather than just talk about them.

Well, I guess you could say I’m feeling a bit braver and ready to take those first steps into finding out what’s wrong with me, but again, isn’t going back to sex just returning to the same old destructive cycle? Again, I don’t want to be trying to do something I’m not meant to be doing. If we’ve never gotten anywhere yet with it, why would we now? And also, should I really be going and bringing up my sterility to a doctor? Wouldn’t that just be getting me nowhere since I still don’t see how Tom’s subconscious, if not conscious, would let him cooperate with the testing since he’d have to be a part of it, too?

Well, if you’re like me, you believe there is no such thing as taking a wrong path in life. I believe that if I start to walk down a “wrong path” God will bump me off of it, so I can’t necessarily choose wrong when it comes to something like infertility testing. If he doesn’t want me tested, he’ll make sure something or someone stops that. Even women who marry abusive husbands didn’t take the “wrong step.” For whatever unfair reason, it was meant to be.

I would just hate it if they told me they couldn’t find anything wrong with me when I know damn well there is something wrong. Just like they said there was nothing wrong with the car when Tom knew good and well that there was something wrong. That’d be mean of God, in a sense. Just to get no answers when I know something’s wrong. Maybe there really is nothing wrong, though. Maybe it’s just a case of God making sure one of my eggs and one of his sperm never meet. That’s fine in this day and age. I don’t want an egg to meet one of his sperms, but I’d like to know why I’m sterile. Maybe they couldn’t tell me the cause of my sterility for sure, but is the problem within the uterus? The eggs? Something else? Tom feels it may be simple, but I just know it’s not. And I also just know that it’s not a case of nothing being wrong, too. I was predestined to be sterile. God sterilized me either before birth or before I was in my teens. I’m just glad that whatever is wrong, whether they can find it or not, can’t be fixed. And I just know it can’t be.

Tom said that we may go to a doctor who says all’s fine, or that they don’t know what’s up, but then we could go to another one a few months later, who knows more, and who can do something to answer my questions. Well, I hope not. Cuz any doctor who doesn’t know of a certain testing/technique with something like that, that really does exist, shouldn’t be out there practicing in the first place. Maybe some things can’t be tested, but they should be able to, for the most part, find the problem, then tell the person the different things they can do about it, so they know what their options are.

Will God let them find the cause of my sterility? Maybe he doesn’t want me knowing what’s up with me. Maybe he wants me to always wonder about it. Well, time will tell if I’m meant to know or not.

When I was in the 5th grade, I had an autograph book. When I was in my early teens, I had a little diary. I asked Mom if there was any chance she saved them for me to have when I got older, but I’m virtually 100% sure she doesn’t have either one of these things. Wish she did, though, cuz they’d be so neat to check out in this day and age.

I’m about as finished with food as I am with cigarettes. So much for that dream and so much for thinking I wouldn’t return to the 120s, even though it was only for a few hours. I learned that I must treat food the same way. I couldn’t cut down the cigarettes. I had to just quit. You either smoke or you don’t. That’s how it usually works. Same with food. Cutting down on food just doesn’t cut it. I have to either eat or stop eating altogether. I don’t know why the setback or why my metabolism decided to quit on me again. I ended up back up to 122 yesterday. Almost back to where I’ve always been since quitting smoking. Well, I’m really sick of this shit. Real fucking sick of it, so I’m not even gonna bother with food anymore. I’m just not even gonna bother.

Later…

It was a cloudy morning, so I took advantage of it and went out and sat out there reading. Wish it was cloudy more often here, cuz it makes for perfect tanning weather. When you’re getting directly hit by the sun, though, it’s scorching hot and I have to keep dipping in the pool with all the bees. Although today, there haven’t been too many. I wonder if they’re dying off for the year early. Bee season doesn’t usually end till September. And of course, I had to listen to the fucking dogs a couple of times while I was out there. That and Caddy kid.

I’m soooooo fucking hungry. It’s like craving cigarettes all over again only this time it’s food. A part of me just wants to say, “Fuck it! I’ll never be thin again. I know it. God knows it. So why don’t I just eat when I’m hungry and forget about how I look and what I weigh?” 

I broke down at 3 AM, not too long after I’d gotten up, and had a TV dinner. I’m tempted to have some popcorn, but then I’ll just want graham crackers or something else, too, later on.

I did a little walking and have begun doing 22 different exercises. I know that only about 5 of them will work, but oh well.

I made some tea in the coffeemaker. Yup, instead of putting a filter with coffee grinds in it, I put in 4 tea bags.

Later…

I just don’t understand. What the hell could’ve stunted my metabolism? I know I had pork rinds when we were waiting for Wal-Mart to open, but it’s not like I eat junk every day. I don’t eat a lot, period. I hardly eat. This just makes no sense. I could eat whatever I wanted to whenever I got hungry and I didn’t have to worry about gaining weight. Now, I can’t eat nothing without gaining weight. Just a banana will put two pounds on me. I just look at food and I gain weight! I haven’t had any popcorn or crackers, but again, do I want to live my life being hungry all the time? Some days I’m OK with it. Others are hard. Do I want to live on barely any food, or do I just want to let my body eat when it’s hungry and let my body weigh what it naturally wants to weigh?

Boy, do I have a lot to write about! I just haven’t been able to cuz I’ve had major problems with my computer. It was down for two days due to a defective hard drive. Fortunately, though, Tom got it all squared away.

I checked out the word processor that Mary has. Yes, it’s got a lot more than just 16 colors which are all my word processor can display, but it’s got features that I don’t like so I probably won’t use it unless I’m printing out stuff.

Let me begin with the good news, then I’ll cover the bad.

Yesterday, we got a rat! I’ve named him Ratsy and he’s a Fancy rat, just like the mice are Fancy Mice.

Later…

Oh, fuck! I just stopped and jumped up to get the mail and we got a piece of the freeloader’s mail. So that means that the guy across W. Weldon got our mail. Fucking, motherfucking mailman! Why is he so fucking illiterate? Or does he just not give a shit? I don’t mind checking out the freeloader’s mail, but it’s more important that we get our mail instead, so as soon as I get another piece of that bitch’s mail is when I’ll be calling in my what? My 5th complaint? Well, they work for a while, so if I gotta bitch every few months to keep things going around here the way they should, then I guess that’s what I’ll do.

All the bitch got was a service plan on a washer. Whoopee!

Anyway, Ratsy’s a cutie and he’s pretty mellow. I really thought he’d be more active and a fast thing, too, but so far, he just sits around and moves slowly. He’s not desperate to escape like Tom said he’d be. His head and neck have brown fur and the rest is white. He does have a little dot of dark fur on his back, but that’s it.

Although he’s much bigger than a mouse, he can fit through the tubes. He’s long, but he’s skinny. His tail alone is longer than a mouse. It could wrap around my wrist. So, he’s got a straight tube and a wheel and is in a white wire cage with a fuchsia bass that’s one square foot. He has the same bottle Velvet has, but his is purple.

They say rats are smart and can learn their names and a variety of tricks. Wish I could teach him to make me coffee!

Well, I’m just too tired to get into all the other stuff I wanted to write about, but I will tomorrow. It’s too far toward the end of my day for me to think straight. All I’m good for doing for the rest of the day is computer games, music, and books.

OK, now I’ll get into the shit that’s gone on. Let me just start by saying that when Tammy went to Florida a couple of summers ago when Mom and Dad pulled their shit by taking their problems with me to her, etc., I told them that if they step out of line one more time, I’m gone for good. No more making up a few months down the line. Well, they did step out of line. Therefore, they’re now a permanently closed chapter in my life and I don’t care how often they come begging for me or how often they try to get through others to get attention from me. I’m really sure that my walking away from Mom, Dad, and Larry is what’s best for everybody. No, Larry didn’t do anything. There’s no connection between him and Mom and Dad. It’s simply what I feel would be best. I’ll talk to Tammy occasionally, Lisa can call me whenever she wants to, and that’s it. That’s all I can deal with anymore. The more people from my past I disassociate myself with, the more I can move on. Things go fine for a while, then as soon as I say something they don’t agree with, they pitch a fucking fit and act as if I may as well have killed someone. The having problems with these people on and off for 32 years has taken its toll on me and I should’ve cut them off years ago. Of course, if I’d cut them out of my life before 1992, I wouldn’t be here now. That’s about the only really good thing they ever did for me was sending me out here. Well, they say there’s a time for everything and now it’s definitely time to rid myself of these negative, moody, emotional, narrow-minded, arrogant, selfish little people. This couldn’t have happened at a better time, too, cuz I really did not want to go to Florida, and he was only gonna go for the same reasons I was gonna go. So it’s no loss to either of us.

This is how it all started, but first - if only Bill knew just how lucky he is that I didn’t find out about his hitting up on Lisa till after I got here. If only I’d known! I’d have taken him out back in the woods behind the dive I was living in in the NHA and I’d have beaten him within inches of death. He’d never again have had the strength to hit a fly!

Lisa called me as soon as she got back home to the problems that were waiting for her return. She was depressed and feeling overwhelmed. She told me that her trip went well enough. Bill kept his paws to himself, but this time, he got at her by way of taunting her about her weight. So if he can’t get at her physically, he gets at her mentally, huh? She’s 5’ 3” and weighs 130 pounds. I asked Tom if someone at that height and weight would be fat. He said probably not. None of the pictures or videos I’ve seen suggest she’s fat, but I told her to tell her father to mind his own business and to look in the mirror. He’s no skinny stud. I told her she could remind her father that it’s the person that counts. Not what they look like.

That’s when I vented to Mom and Dad over AOL and I asked them if they could see past his Jewishness and his great job and see Bill for the child-beating whore he really is. Sure enough, and just as I figured, they said that Bill’s oh so special to them, the things I say he is are lies, don’t bring up the subject again unless I know the whole truth, they thought I was over such venom, and what am I gonna do? Start a vendetta against Bill?

And they played with poor Lisa’s head when she was in Florida by telling them her father loves her. She tried to tell them how he’s a control freak and how she didn’t see how he could love her since he hits her when he can’t get his way, but they wouldn’t hear it. If Bill killed her and was convicted in court, they’d still believe he was an innocent, great guy! They’d go right into denial as they always do when they don’t like the truth or when it’s about something they’re too much of a wimp to deal with.

Then they insist that since even I know Tammy’s known to have lied in the past, she can’t be telling the truth about Bill. I told them yes, Tammy would lie about being an RN and she would exaggerate illnesses, but why would she lie about him cheating on her when she was pregnant with Sarah? And why would she and Lisa lie about his hitting her? I’m too good with people’s character to not believe that Bill could do what he’s done, and I know what Tammy would and wouldn’t lie/exaggerate about.

It’s not just that my parents refuse to see Bill for what he really is, it’s a matter of different times and generations. See, my parents, as well as Bill, were taught that hitting is OK. Hitting is good, actually. So they’re kind of caught up within their own eras. Still, anyone who’s warped enough to believe that violence is love is someone I don’t want in my life whether they’re related to me or not.

As much as Tammy has lied, how can a mother try to pit one of their kids against another? How can she also side with her son-in-law over her daughter? If we had had a kid and if Tom had gone wacko and hit the kid and cheated on me, would they have believed me if I’d told them about it? Tom may not be Jewish and he may not have held the same job for over 20 years, but he’s Jewish enough to them cuz to them, he’s my caretaker. They don’t have to worry about having to take care of me cuz he takes care of me. He’s got a lot to offer them. If he didn’t, that’d be different.

And they say don’t bring up the subject again unless I know the truth which really means, don’t bring up the subject again unless I see it their way. What is the whole “truth,” though, anyway? Even Tammy would like to know that.

She thought I was over such “venom?” Sorry, but I still have opinions, feelings, and beliefs, and if that’s venom, then too bad. As for starting a vendetta against Bill; I’m not gonna do anything to the guy cuz I’ll never see or talk to him again, so I don’t know what they’re so worried about. I’m 3000 miles away (lucky guy!). If I ran into him on the streets, which is highly unlikely out here, then we’d be talking a whole different story and then yes, I’d kill him.

I asked them if they always practice what they preach. They harp on not bringing up the past, but they do anyway. But only when they say so. Only when it’s not something that embarrasses them or something they are always too weak to face. Everything’s them, them, them. They just can’t deal with not having control over people. Everybody’s gotta be just like them at all costs, or else they just can’t handle things. As I told them, they can revert back to their old ways all they want. I have a husband who loves and accepts me as a whole, as I am, and that’s all I need. We don’t have a 1-sided relationship. I told them they can forget about the trip, don’t call me or contact me in any way, and I blocked them out of my email list. It’s not worth checking, but I’m sure they’ve blocked me out, too.

I told them that since they’ve had problems with all of their kids, did they ever think that maybe the problem is them? I told them I agree - Tammy’s a lousy mother, but are they forgetting that they were pretty lousy as parents themselves? And speaking of lying - I’ve caught them in numerous lies. Hell, I’m sure they’re already lying about this shit. I’m sure they’re having Ruth and Marty come running over so they can cry on their shoulders about me and I’m sure they’re saying that they were the ones to dump me. Let them.

As for Larry - I sent him a postcard saying that I guess it’s my turn to do the dumping, but that it’d be for a lot longer than 8 years this time around, and please don’t bother calling. No, he didn’t do anything to me, but what’s the point? I mean just like Jenny C, he’s way in the past, he’s 3000 miles away, and this way I won’t have to keep wondering if I did the right thing. What I mean by that is, he’s funny and all that, but ever since he contacted me in 1993, I’ve been wondering if I did the right thing by accepting him back into my life. Is that really having self-respect? Well, with Mom, Dad, and Larry out of my life, I won’t have to wonder about a lot of things anymore and about doing this, doing that, saying this, saying that, and I’ll be free of having to feel like I’m walking on eggshells around these people. Something no one should have to feel with anybody, related or not. I just don’t like these people. I don’t even like Tammy, but I can at least tolerate her. She doesn’t put demands on me. I don’t want to talk to her very often, we have next to nil in common, but it’s OK if she needs to call me to bitch about life.

Lisa was telling me the other day how Tammy asked her who was the one person that’s always been there for her and Lisa answered by saying, “Aunt Jodi.” That’s sweet of her. Lisa says Tammy really loves me. That’s nice. I mean, whatever.

Later…

An hour ago, I was called about my appointment on Monday with Melanie, but it wasn’t Melanie who called. It was Trisha, Tisha, or whatever her name is.

Ratsy is still sort of shy, but I managed to get him out for a few seconds today. He still mainly prefers to come to the door of his cage and look out, but that’s about it. He’s not eager to jump into my hands or the ball that small critters roam around in.

Later…

Does this ever get any easier? The one TV dinner a day, plus some popcorn or some graham crackers, just to maintain the same weight, is so fucking hard!

Tom called from Mary’s cuz he remembered when he got there that Ma has a doctor’s appointment to go to, so he won’t be in for a couple more hours.

Tom’s at Mary’s now putting up some blinds.

Earlier we had Ratsy out on the bed. I brought him to the bed in the ball, and it was so cute how he’d go exploring around the bed and then run back into the ball for a few seconds and repeat the scenario again.

We were talking about modifying Ratsy’s cage so he could have more space. Guess that cute little white wired, fuchsia-based cage was a waste after all. Right now I have him in the birdcage that Tweety was in when he was given to us. He loves to climb the perches and bars. Like the mice, he’s pretty much nocturnal. The pig and rabbit are up on and off day and night. Same with Tweety, although when left outside at night, Tweety’s as silent as can be. He never moves. He’s like a statue out there at night. Anyway, we may find a way to connect the white wire cage to the birdcage he’s in now. Meanwhile, Tom’s still gonna look for a cheap aquarium at a yard sale.

We also went to screw around earlier, and I just couldn’t do it. I just feel that mixing sex with the relationship would just bring back all the arguments and trouble and feelings of inadequacy. The two just don’t mix. Not only was I afraid I’d be returning to a destructive cycle if we screwed, I just couldn’t get in the mood. It seems that quitting smoking didn’t just stunt my metabolism, it stunted my sexual appetite, too. Tom’s been very patient, though, and feels that things will change and that my appetite will return. Of course, I have mixed emotions about that. Tom also seems to have as little desire for sex as I do, although he says differently. Guess we all really do deal with things differently. Maybe he really is horny all the time like he says, but it’s just not him to always say so and show it.

I just hope old times don’t return as far as my being a little nympho. I don’t want to want the full-time sex I could never have, and I don’t want to ever return to wanting a child, either. There’s nothing like wanting something you can’t have/handle. Except for my weight, I’ve never been more at peace with myself and with life in general. I want to keep it this way.

Speaking of weight - I’ve made a decision. This nearly starving myself just to stay the same weight has taken its toll on me. I’ve decided to go to two meals a day, plus a bowl of popcorn, or a few crackers for snacks. It’s not like I’m young, single, or looking to go topless dancing. I believe Tom will love me either way so it’s OK if I get fatter and I have no problem with letting that happen. I just won’t be able to rock at some point.

The funny thing about it is that Tom says I’ll lose weight this way. He said he saw a weight loss show on TV and they were saying that the reason why people don’t lose weight is cuz they stop eating. I don’t know, but I guess it’s got something to do with food acting as fat-burning fuel. He said that the more you eat, the faster your metabolism is. I asked him what about those who gorge themselves, and he said that there is a limit to how much the body can burn off. Well, maybe this is how it works for some people, but not for me. I’m going to gain weight for sure and if I didn’t, I sure as hell won’t lose weight on two 300-calorie meals a day. I have no metabolism and my body hangs onto everything it eats.

It’s just that I miss the days when I didn’t worry about what I ate. I’m sick of having to watch every little bite I eat and be so fucking hungry 95% of the time. So, let the pounds come!

The postcard that Larry should get Monday or Tuesday, oughta take him by surprise. I don’t hate my brother or his family, I just think it’s all for the best. That way I won’t have to keep questioning our relationship if there is no relationship between us to begin with.

I know Larry, though. I know how people can lie and get spiteful when cut off by someone, so I wouldn’t put it past him to talk bad about me and lie about me to Lisa, but I’m sure Lisa has a mind of her own and that anything he might say, will have nothing to do with her and I.

I’m not too sure what was going on at the freeloaders' place. It’s been peaceful. No music or shit like that, but a couple of hours ago I heard door slams that were in the carport, and of course, I worry that it’s him returning since it’s inevitable. I ran and looked and saw a black boy of about 8 years of age and an adult black guy, but only for a second. It looked for a second like the little one had a basketball in its hands and that they were gonna start a ball game, but then they walked out of sight, a white car I’ve seen a lot over there pulled out of the carport, and that’s been it so far.

I sure do have some shocking news about the weight. Well, at least it shocks me, but not Tom. As you know, I’d been eating one TV dinner a day, plus a bowl of popcorn, some crackers, and that’s pretty much it. I had been feeling sluggish a lot, too, and staying around the same weight. Tom said it was cuz I wasn’t eating enough, and that if I ate more, it’d up my metabolism/energy. And as you also know, I believed that going to two TV dinners a day, plus the couple of little snacks I’d been having, would make me gain weight, but was prepared to just accept it cuz I was tired of feeling so rundown and so hungry. Well, to my utter amazement, I awoke at 116! I’ve been walking 30 minutes a day, too, so maybe this is the answer, but I refuse to get my hopes up. I’ve been down that road before, thinking this is it, I’m gonna lose weight now. Let’s just put it this way, I feel so much better that even if I don’t lose one more pound - fine.

I had another weight dream, too. That’s two dreams now, after all this time. Does it mean anything? Anyway, all I remember is in the dream I asked Tom either, “Am I going to get down to 100 pounds?” or “Do you really think I’m going to get down to 100 pounds?” and he nodded yes.

I’ve been having a field day creating desktop themes. I made 32 different schemes each with its own set of colors, its own screensaver, and its own wallpaper. Every day, I’ll change schemes.

I told Tom I’d be willing to try to screw today, but he was tired and had a sore back. Guess I was right - it’s just not meant to be.

I’m still enjoying every second that the cock’s out of the picture, cuz I know that once it comes back, all that stress will be thrown right back on me. Especially on weekends. I love not having to sit and listen to all the door-slamming as he’d come and go 6 times a day and I love not having to worry that he’s gonna blast me out and that I won’t be able to restrain myself from going over there and beating him to a bloody pulp. So, I’ll enjoy the peace while it lasts, although I’m sure that the bitch, at some point, will have pals come over just to bother me somehow by having their little kiddies get together to play ball for 3 hours. I’m curious to see how this Labor Day will be if he’s still not back yet. The past two Labor Days that they’ve been here, he was here and they make a scene.

Later…

Right on time. It’s the bitch’s prime time. The Caddy just pulled up to take her to wherever.

Later…

My oh-so-horny-all-the-time husband just left for work. I’m glad he truly has a low drive, cuz now we’re both on common ground there for once. For him, it was his hip and back that were hurting today. For me, I just wasn’t in the mood as usual, and when I am, it’s just more convenient and less problem-causing if I just quickly take care of my own self.

Melanie called just before noon today asking if I could come in earlier than 1:30. I got in an hour earlier and boy did she hurt me! She had to put a lot of pressure on me and it didn’t tickle. I think I’ll forget about getting my bottom teeth straightened out.

She had her hair in a French braid, and she had a hell of a tan. She said she just got back from Mexico. That explains why she didn’t call me last Friday. She sure gets around. She definitely has no kids, as my vibes told me.

While she was working on me, I was aware of someone standing in the doorway. I thought it was another staff member standing by in case she needed their help like before, but when I got up to leave, I could see it was definitely her sister. It had to be. Her face was just about a carbon copy of Melie’s, only her hair was short and wavy. Not long and curly. She looked to be younger than Melie. Perhaps she was in her early 20s if not late teens. And I know she has a sister, too, cuz when we were talking about the things we like to do, Melanie said her sister draws, too.

After seeing Melanie, we went to the grocery store. I got a couple of samples of ground coffee. One’s vanilla nut crème, the other’s chocolate macadam. We also grabbed some other odds and ends we needed.

Since having two meals a day, I have felt so much better. I have more energy and I’m not starving my ass off nearly as much. I woke up a pound heavier today, but Tom said that’s to be expected. Like I said, if my weight doesn’t stay right around where it’s at, I think it’ll go up, but I’m ready to accept it and just live with it if it does, cuz I don’t miss feeling sluggish and hungry.

I spent about 3 hours changing and cleaning the mice, rats, and pig cages.

When we left to go to see Melanie, we saw people working in the freeloader’s yard. It’s not the same people with the blue pickup. It’s different people with a white pickup. On the way back, they were still there and they had a canteen of water on the block wall that’s in between their carport and the bedroom side of our house. I joked about going over and knocking it off. So are these people gonna be regulars? Are they gonna come every Monday?

Later…

The nerve of that brother of mine! Yes, I definitely did the right thing by ditching Mom, Dad, and Larry. As I knew they would, Mom and Dad went crying to Larry about our latest little dispute. Larry sarcastically thanked me for the postcard. Now he knows what it’s like to get dumped and I guess he doesn’t like it. It’s only OK for him to dump someone. I told him I got angry at Mom and Dad and perhaps I took it out on him, but then when he said to me what he said next, it left no doubt in my mind that I did do the right thing by cutting him off, too. He told me I hurt Mom and Dad unnecessarily. (like he hasn’t hurt them too, and like he has a right to judge me? Like he’s the boss of the family now or something)?

He also said something about not saying anything to certain people about his feud with Tammy so as not to cause conflict between us. See, he’s got the wrong idea. He thinks my dumping him is connected to Mom, Dad, and Tammy. It’s not. What he does about Tammy or what his opinions are about Tammy has nothing to do with why I cut him off. I cut him off simply cuz I felt it was best.

Then, to my surprise, he said Bill was a wonderful person and he may have hit the kids once or twice, but that’s it. I thought he hated Bill cuz he wouldn’t give him custody of Lisa. And it’s OK if you hit your kids once or twice, but any more than that is a no-no? Whatever. The point’s the same - I don’t care what he, mom, or dad think, say, or do. It’s their right to do what they want just as it’s my right to do what I want. I just don’t have to be associated with it if I don’t want to be.

So, as soon as Larry had told me this, which took about a minute, I simply said, “Why don’t we just not have anything to do with each other?” He said “OK” and we hung up. I am, however, gonna give him one last piece of an explanation and it’s his to take or leave. I’m sending one more postcard setting him straight on the fact that there’s no connection between Mom, Dad, Tammy, or Bill and my cutting him off. I told him he did nothing wrong, I simply felt it was for the better, and I wished him, Sandy and Jen the best throughout their lives. He can choose to read the postcard or not to read it. He can choose to think, believe, and feel whatever he chooses to about it and everything else from here on out.

Meanwhile, he and my parents are a part of my past and my past only. I cannot take any more stress with them. I don’t need it and neither do they. Let them live their lives to their contentment and I’ll do the same.

I started to email my folks so they could relay the message to their beloved son, but not at all to my surprise, they changed screen names. So I sent Larry the news directly and like I said, he can read if he wants to and he can do as he pleases with the info.

If Lisa should ever have any contact with Larry, I hope she’ll always have a mind of her own, as far as anything he may say to her regarding me. I hope that anything he says will remain separate from us, but I love Lisa and therefore, if she called me up tomorrow to tell me she no longer wanted anything to do with me, I’d accept it and let her have her way if it’d make her happy.

Later…

I called Tammy and told her of my little chat with Larry. She said she hoped my dumping mom and dad had nothing to do with her. I assured her it didn’t. How typical of Larry, though, to go back and forth. One minute he’s bitching to me, or someone, about how he’s pissed at Mom and Dad, and the next minute, he loves them dearly.

Later…

Just a couple more things in regard to Larry - he also said something about me sticking my nose into things. Like he’s not sticking his nose into things? I can’t believe some people and their hypocrisy! It’s like a fat person ranking on another fat person as if they weren’t fat themselves. People just make no sense with their practicing what they preach. I never should’ve bothered calling him back.

Also, I’ve decided not to send him another card explaining that there’s no connection between him and me and other family members cuz I don’t owe the bastard any explanation. He’s just not worth it. He and my parents can live their own lives without me in it and sink or swim for all I care.

Oh and also, Larry said something about Tammy being in big trouble. How can she be in big trouble if she got a letter from the state saying that her case was closed, just like with 99% of the parents they investigate?

Later…

I went and had myself a good cry and boy did it help! It wasn’t cuz of anything in particular or cuz of any emotion in particular, it was just everything combined. All the emotions, stress, anxiety, frustration, and anger due to this family shit. But this is why I’ve cut these people out of my life. So I don’t have to go through this on and off like I have been for 32 years.

I thought that a good night’s sleep would rid me of my emotions about Larry and all that, but I thought wrong. A part of me is still pissed off that I bothered to return his call and that I didn’t speak my mind to him. So, I try to remind myself that speaking my mind to him about the shit that’s gone on wouldn’t change a thing. He wouldn’t want to hear it and he wouldn’t budge on his own ways and opinions. I don’t owe him any explanation anyway. We all have a right to feel and believe as we do and as long as I know in my mind where I’m coming from, it doesn’t matter if no one else does. No one else has to share my feelings and beliefs. 

It also did me some good to return his call too, cuz it reinforced in my mind that dumping him was the right thing to do. It served as a reminder of just how vindictive and spiteful he can be upon hearing the bullshit he had to say to me.

Thank God I do journaling, though, cuz it really helps to get it all out, and thank God I have Tom. If there’s one good thing I can always count on in life, it’s him. Everything else after that that’s good is just an extra bonus as far as I’m concerned.

Tom suggested other ways to deal with those I don’t want anything to do with. He said I don’t have to “dump” them. I can just not return phone calls, etc, so I can avoid the anger and anxiety and all that. He said, for example, if I don’t like Melanie, I can just switch dentists. I don’t need to tell her I’m gonna do so and why. He has a point, but every situation is different. It wouldn’t be that easy to just ignore my family. In their case, it was cut them off and let them know it or keep on associating with them.

All I know is that my parents and my brother have hurt me and pissed me off one too many times and this was the final time. They will never see or hear from me again. I told my parents a couple of summers ago that this is what’d happen if they started up with me again. Well, they either didn’t take me seriously or they just never gave a shit.

I’m sure Larry’s told my parents that he was the one to dump me, cuz that’s just how he is, but let them say and do as they please. The only thing I suggest they do is to brush up on their lying skills. Bill only hit Lisa once or twice? Are these people even aware of what bad liars they are? That’d be like me saying I don’t live in Arizona. I’m not short. I’m not a brunette. Both ears of mine are normal, etc. I know Lisa and Tammy wouldn’t lie about how much Bill hit Lisa, and using my good judgment of character, Bill totally fits the kind. I just wish I knew that he’d utilize his willingness to hit Lisa while I was still there, but he’s very lucky I didn’t!

I’m sure it’s also just a matter of time, too, before Larry and my parents are dumping each other. If not, though, they can have happy lives together. They’re made for each other.

I called Lisa today cuz I felt I should try to warn and protect her. I told her I wasn’t telling her what to do, but that I highly suggest she have no contact with Larry. I told her there’s the funny side of Larry, and there’s the mean side of Larry. I told her that we were really close, as she and he had been till I was 21, then he was gone. I told her that by the time I was 21, I had been dumped on and dumped enough to not have it affect me so much, but that I shouldn’t have let him back into my life in 1993, and that if he could dump his parents and his sister, he can dump his niece. That is, not without shitting on her first. I told her that I was telling her this from personal experience and that maybe I was wrong. Maybe they could always get along just fine, but I felt it was best I warn her of the possibilities here. She’s gonna meet enough people that’ll screw her over, so if I can spare her from one more person that’ll just fuck her over, great (although not quite in those words). I also reminded her that nothing that could go on between me and anyone else could ever change my love for her.

She said she’d never let anyone else come in between us and she thanked me vigorously for clearing up her confusion. She said that she had been so confused with my parents saying this, Tammy saying that, Larry saying this, etc. I told her I was glad it helped her, cuz the last thing I wanted to do was add to her confusion and make it sound like I was telling her what to do. All I thought of was doing whatever I could do to protect her from any more future BS. She’s had enough.

She said she’s glad she didn’t move in with him and that she’s got her family there. Yes, she does. Tammy may make mistakes, and they may not always get along, but at least she won’t be hitting up on her constantly. And in a couple of years, she can move out if she wants to.

She said she was upset with my folks for not believing her about her dad hitting her. I don’t blame her. There’s just something about Lisa that sparks a sheer hatred in Bill and I think it’s because she’s “the other guy’s.” Lisa’s half of Tammy’s ex, he doesn’t like her ex, therefore he doesn’t like Lisa. It’s a lot like how Judy M hated me at first cuz of how she hates my mom.

She asked what about Jen? I suggested that as sweet as Jen is and as innocent as Jen is, she let her go cuz of the close connection to Larry. I told her that she’d have to deal with Larry if she wanted to deal with Jen and that sometimes you have to give up something you like in order to give up something bad. Like with the cigarettes. She liked them, but it was best that she give them up (if she really did and I sure hope so) cuz they weren’t good for her.

She also told me that Bill screamed at Lisa and told her that if she ever says such things about him again, that would be the "end of us." In other words, Bill doesn’t like Lisa spilling the truth about him to people. As I told her, I’d be thrilled to end “us” if someone like him were in my life.

Once again, I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if someone in my family wasn’t murdered. Like I said, Tammy can call if she wants to, I’ll always love Lisa and her sisters, but I am out of that family! And as Tom said, I’m in Arizona now. They don’t have anything to do with my day-to-day life and I’m 3000 miles away. Well, I don’t care if I’m 1 mile away or 3000 miles away. I will not have anything to do with such lying, vicious people.

Lisa said she feels this is all her fault. I reassured her it was not her fault. She couldn’t know and she’s not responsible for other people’s actions.

I can understand, though, how she could easily feel it is her fault. Right now I’m saying to myself - You should’ve known better! You should’ve known you’d totally regret it if you let Larry back into your life 5 years ago. This is your fault, cuz if you’d only not let him re-enter your life, he would never have gotten the chance to fuck with you one last time. Yes, I shouldn’t have let him back into my life since I already knew just what kind of guy he is, but I’m not responsible for the things he’s said and done.

Oh, little Larry! Sometimes I wonder why it couldn’t have been your dad who died in the truck wreck. Why did it have to be you and not him? If someone just had to die, why did it have to be you?

Later…

I decided that yes, the only way to curb this anger and anxiety would be to give Larry one last piece of my mind so that’s exactly what I did in my final letter to him. I only hope and pray to God that he reads it, even if he sends a nasty letter or makes a nasty phone call in response to it. As soon as I typed this letter up, I already felt so much better. I begged God to please make sure he reads this letter as I do not want to have to spend my life being angry about this, too, on top of other things I spent years being angry over that I either did not or could not deal with. I had to get my anger out and the only way I could do so was to speak my mind to him. I don’t know if he’ll return this letter to me unopened or if he’ll refuse to read the letter, but I hope not.

Woke up at 116½. Still eating two meals a day, plus popcorn or crackers, and still feeling much better. I’m not hungry every second and I’ve got more energy. Still walking twice a day for 15 minutes, too.

I had my weekly, long chat with Andy. He’s still at Red Lobster. Marla asked me how his job was going, and I asked him about it. He said he’s still in training and not bringing in any real money yet. He said he can’t memorize their menu to save his life. He said it’s not a difficult menu either, it’s just that he’s got a mental block. He’s sick of being a waiter and doesn’t want to wait on one more table in his life, but what will he do? What can he do instead? He has no interests. The only things that interest him are the impossible. It’s like he’s the old me. All he wants to do is things he could never do.

When I read back on how I said I swore I was destined to be a singer in my earlier journals, I feel so embarrassed for myself. How naïve! How could I have ever believed for a millisecond that I could make it as a singer even if I was a 10+, could deal with the lifestyle and hold a schedule, liked people and traveling? Please! It was never ever meant to be. Not any more than a child or woman was meant to be.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s that things don’t necessarily have to happen for a reason. Most things do, but not all things. Just because God gives someone a voice, doesn’t mean he wants them to be a singer professionally. Just because God sends a woman a wonderful guy, after she’d been alone or with a woman for about a decade, and thought she’d always be that way, doesn’t mean he wants her to have kids. God just simply wanted me to be loved, and to be loved by a guy. And he wanted me to love in return, and he wanted me to love a guy.

He was telling me about a neighbor girl and before he really got into it, I asked him what drugs she did, since I know he loves a druggie like I love a rodent. Well, she does hard-core stuff and is now in jail for having a home drug-making lab. I worry about him. What if he goes down with these kinds of people?

Nonetheless, I feel bad for Andy. He’s in such a rut and is so confused and trapped feeling. He wants David, but he doesn’t want to go back east. He wants a career change but doesn’t know what to do. He wants to quit pot again but is afraid it’ll lead to his turning to alcohol.

I told him about the shit that went down with my folks and Larry. I kind of figured he’d, well, not side with them, but still. He tends to naturally veer towards the other side and not be supportive of me, although he was supportive of me, and as he said, I’m gonna do what I gotta do anyway. He said it’s sad that it’s come to me cutting them out of my life. I see what he’s saying, but the relief of having them out of my life overrides any sadness at this point. After all I’ve gone through with them year after year, and after speaking my mind to Mom, Dad, and Larry, all I feel now is peace.

We also talked about Michelle (you know how Andy loves to discuss others and how only a small portion of what he talks about concerns himself). He feels it’s sad that Michelle’s willing to work where she’s working for the rest of her life cuz she’s got a crush on her boss Helen. I told him that I didn’t see anything wrong with that if she’s happy, responsibly holding a job, and earning some money. And what’s not to say that someone will come and sweep her off her feet at some point in her life whether she works there or not?

I had started to print out my journals. Got the first 20 printed but decided it’s not really necessary to print out past or current journals. I have handwritten past journals and backup copies of both my past and current ones, but I’ll hang onto what I’ve printed out so far. I may want to continue on with it someday.

It’s been great next door. No dog. No door slams. This is the quietest summer yet. It seems each summer they get quieter and each winter they get noisier. The fucks have been here through 3 summers and two winters so far. It’s just great with that fucking black cock out of the picture.

I guess those two dreams I had about losing weight, really were the signs I thought they were, telling me that I would lose weight. I woke up at 115½. It'll probably be a while now before I go down any farther. Once I hit down at a new weight that I haven't been at since gaining weight in the first place, it kind of stays there for a while. Although it's deathly humid out there right now, I hung out the sheets. They should still dry anyway, cuz it's also deathly hot. Andy told me something else about Quinn and it may be the biggest reason he killed himself. We think that the smaller reason is that he couldn't accept his gayness. But as for the bigger reason, well, there was a warrant out for his arrest when he died and he was looking at doing some serious jail time for drug dealing. He was looking at something like 20 years and personally, if I knew I had to do some serious jail time I'd kill myself, too.

I can’t believe how much lettuce this rat can consume. Well, I can and I can’t.

As most of us know, my brother can’t handle rejection, so on Saturday, which is the day he should get my letter, I’ll probably be getting some nasty messages. All of which will be erased without being listened to. As soon as I hear his voice, I’ll erase his message. That is unless he throws away the letter or has it returned to me. If he does read it, though, he won’t part without trying to get the last word first so I’m almost positive he’ll call, but like I said, I’m not even gonna bother with listening to any messages, let alone calling him back. Tom knows not to bother answering any long-distance calls anyway.

Guess now’s a good time as any to go read and walk. I set up the music stand by the walker so I can read while I walk. It passes the time more quickly than music does.

Later…

I went around the house and rearranged family pictures. No, I didn’t throw away all pictures of my parents and Larry, but I put them out of view and into photo albums. I have so many picture frames and not enough room to use them all. Anyway, I substituted pictures that contained Mom, Dad, and Larry, with my nieces, Nana and Pa, or Goldie and Al.

Strangely enough, though, as I was pulling a wedding picture of my folks out of the frame it was sent to me in, I found two old pictures behind it. One had a man, a woman, and a boy of about one year of age. Tom said the little boy looked like my father. I thought that the man could be Papa Joe, but the woman didn’t look like either of my grandmothers, so who can really know for sure. The woman looked to be in her late 40s and back then, it wasn’t common to have little ones at that age. They usually had kids in their 20s. Nowadays, you either have them while you’re still just a kid yourself, or somewhere in the 30s or 40s.

The other picture was of a little girl about 8 years old. Judging by the style of dress she wore, and by the frilly bonnet and corkscrew curls, this picture had to be really old. Like the late 1800s or early 1900s. Probably the early 1900s. I got the feeling right away that it was my maternal grandmother. The eyes seemed to be dark and the face bore a slight resemblance to her.

Later… 

Gosh, things have changed! Tom got into bed naked while I was reading. I just couldn’t do it, though. I just couldn’t go back to that destructive cycle. Nor could I get in the mood. All I could see was my not getting off, and his not getting inside me. I still believe he has his subconscious fears too, that he’s either trying to cover up or shove in my face. He ended up going to sleep, but it’s really weird how we wish to be a certain way or to have certain things, then when we get them, we have mixed emotions about them. I wanted to quit smoking for years. How was I to know that once I did, I’d sometimes regret it? I wanted to stop wanting sex and a kid, but how was I to know I’d feel like I was depriving him? Well, I try to remind myself that he didn’t cum for a very long time in the beginning. At least not by me he didn’t. So I’m not depriving him of anything. He’s never appeared to have a problem with infrequent sex/cumming and he’s still with me. I believe he’d always be with me even if we never screwed again, cuz remember, Tom isn’t your typical violent, horny male. I also don’t see this baby desire. Never have in the past. Still can’t see it now, either.

Woke up at 118. And I was so sure I’d lost another pound or two. Tom says I probably have, but due to where I am in my cycle, it’s hard to tell with a pound or two of water gain. He said comparing my weight on a daily basis won’t tell me as much as a monthly comparison will. A month ago at this time, I was heavier and my measurements were up a bit, so that spells progress. Once again - let myself gain weight. It’s how I feel that matters to me at this point, although he thinks I will lose weight if I keep eating as I have been and keep up with the walking. He says it’ll just take time. It’s nice to actually get full and not be able to finish some of my TV dinners. I save the rest for later, though. I don’t throw them out.

So, will tomorrow be the day that Larry calls? I believe he’ll either read the letter and call about it or send it back to me. I doubt he’d not read it and not call. Well, there’s nothing he can say to me at this point that’ll bring back that stress and anger, let alone get me to kiss and make up with him. We each said our piece and that’s it. There’s nothing left to do or say. My parents and he are a closed chapter in my life. They’re just like old friends I used to have and old people I used to know. They’re just like Jenny C, Jessie S, Monte from Shopper’s Drug, etc. They’re just old friends/acquaintances from the past. From a life I once had 3000 miles away.

I could still kick myself for letting Larry back into my life. Well, as he’ll see, he’s had the wrong idea if he thinks I’m gonna do it all again and fight with him a decade and 3000 miles later.

Later…

Tom tells me that he’s married to me for life whether he’s happy or not. He claims that not having sex makes him unhappy, even if he doesn’t bitch about it constantly.

I feel kind of stuck here. I want the old me back, but I don’t. I don’t want to return to wanting sex or a kid. I just don’t need the trouble it brings and his appetite’s too low to be wanting it much. I still feel that the more we keep the sex out of the relationship, the better off we are. Also, I have no desire anymore for a child, thank God. I prayed for years to be like I am now and not want a kid. I don’t want to want stuff that can never be, and I don’t want to drive myself crazy by fighting for something that’s not meant to be.

If I went back to wanting a kid (not that it’s a switch that I can control) I’d just be wanting the impossible once again and something I could never handle in the first place. And if I went back to wanting full-time sex, I’d just be wanting something I could only have once every week or two and that’d be pretty shitty most of the time. Or sort of boring. Sex is never as we fantasize. It’s always better in our fantasies. Most of the time it is, anyway.

[weekendsabo]

Journal - Friday, January 4th, 2019

As of right now there is 119 blank days. When I decided to fill this on 11/30 I had 32 days to fill up 180 days. In 35 days I fill up 61 days which isn’t bad. I have till the end of Sunday to fill up as much as possible, then I’m retiring this journal. Let’s get it under 100. 3 days to fill up 20 days. That about 6 a day or 7. I can do it! Then it will be about 72% full. Not too shabby for missing almost half the days at the start of November. Next year is going to be so much better. I’ll do this Planner thing and a page in the new journal along with getting the others filled as well. I think those Nikes are done and it’s time to get some new shoes. My left foot hurts this morning for no apparent reason and it sucks. It has to be because of the shoes? I’m going to wear my NBs today and see that makes a difference. Maybe, Maybe not, but it’s worth a shot. It could be that my feet are trying to have an arch cause I walk around bare foot at home a lot. That would be sweet, I will start to incorporate the feet exercises in my lifting routine and that should help a bunch. We’ll see!

Cont. on 8/8

Good day at work today. Got a lot done on that Rage Wine job. Probably will finish it up on Monday. No Problemo. Went to lunch with Skylar, she definitely talks a lot. I feel she doesn’t really have anyone to talk to really, or just being around her folks just had gotten old. I do hope she is able to her her own place soon. She will be a lot happier and her folds will be a lot happier as well. Especially Neal. Well, I’m oging to delete FB today. I’m over it after this workout. I’m ogoing to get all the info off there that I need and be gone! I’m ready. I’ll share my music in other ways. FB isn’t the only way to promote. Whatever. I don’t care. I’m over it. I’ll form a jazz band or something. Or just write and record music. Make videos for everything? Whatever. I’m done trying to impress people or be “friends” these people don’t care. Or maybe I don’t care. More that likely. But I do like these people. I just feel I’m ready to move on. Get my priorities straight again. Maybe coming back just was a bad idea. That’s not true, I just have to take it a day at a time. 

Cont. on 8/7

I’m finishing this month tonight. So, let’s see who I had a crush on since I’ve been back. I think fist might have been Kristina Kelley. Still kind of do. I still remember being at Brooklyn Bowl and finding out she had a boyfriend. I feel it wouldn’t work out. Then Jenna - which is over at this point. I can’t ( I can) believe I talked to her hammered. I don’t even remember what she said or really what I said. So to keep it from getting awkward I treat her like any other friend. Nover “crushed” on Bridget, just always wondered if there was anything there. But I really don’t think so. I feel if there was it would have happened in Japan. Definitely had some feelings for Lyn. But that would never work. Maybe if she didn’t have kids. Her kids are great, but it's not something I want. So, it’s okay. I could have been better about it, but I just don’t want to deal with it. Plus she lives in a different country. I want someone here. Right now, I don’t want anyone. I need to get myself back on track before getting into a relationship. 

Cont. on 8/6

Then there’s Luna. But I’ve written enough in here about her and don’t have much more to say. I never took a shot and lost my chance. One click away from deleting FB. If i hit this button it is the last time I am logging in. I don’t need it. I don’t want it. The people that need to get a hold of me have my number. It’s gone. And I already feel better. I don’t think anyone will notice for a while if at all. I’m probably not going to that show tonight. Unless Tsvet hits me up or James, you know what I mean. Definitely attracted to Vivian, but I feel she isn't’ the right personality for me. I feel a lof of things. I’ll. I f I go to the show tonight, I will end up drinking and smoking and I really do not want to do that. Plus, I would spend money, even if I didn’t drink it’s like at least $5 in gas. But I I do go. I will be able to socialize a little with the same people

 I see all the time. Not all the time, but still. I get super socially awkward if I’m sober. It sucks. It’s like I forgot how to be myself.

Cont. on 8/4

I hope Neal isn’t. Doesn’t get his feeling hurt about the gym thing. I’ll wait till I have Mona. He’ll understand then. It’s just so easy to not be sober. I don’t know why I just can’t be sober. Is there any benefit to smoking weed or drinking tonight. Pro’s - The weed will make me relax more. I feel the music more when I play and just enjoy playing. I trying to justify getting high. It’s not really a bad thing. I’m just trying - 8/8 - to figure out why I feel the need to not do these things. Well drinking is easy to figure out. I want to lose weight and drinking is completely against losing weight. At least for how I like to drink. I just enjoy having a buzz or being high. Lately I’ve been getting upset with myself when I drink too much. Just cause I know I need to stop doing it. Not completely and not stop forever, but I need a break right now. I’m done till I get to 175. I will be under 200 by February. It’ll be easy. I’m okay with smoking weed as long as it is not on work nights. Just makes me so groggy. 

Cont. on 8/3

A Lotta Things

By Bonny Doon

EGDD

This and that

So and so

Maybe yes, maybe no

You said a lot of things. You said a lot of things.

Eleven Thirty-Nine

I’ll never be on time.

I know I said a lot of things. I said a lot of things. 

And I should be happy

But I’m not

But I’m not

And I should be grateful

I know. But I’m not

But I’m not

I’m faking my own death

So I can get some rest

I know I thought of everything. I thought of everything

Standing in the corner

Just staring at the sky

Oh man, I saw a lotta things

I saw a lot of things

I should write this in the new journal and just know the songs. I wonder if this is any easier not really I just need to relax.

I should have stayed home. I went because I knew I would drink. I decided it on my before I left. 

Okay, so I got drunk. Guess what. It's’ probably going to happen tomorrow night. So deal with it.

[keefiswhoiam]

July 10 - 2023 Monday

11:14 PM

I’ve been slacking writing about my day. The whole point, as much as it might feel wrong sometimes, is to treat myself like my day mattered enough to write down. I did stuff that affects myself and others and I deserve to broadcast it, even if to no one. 

This morning I was still recovering from last night’s horrible tummy issues. Breakfast kinda sucked, I made soup but didn’t really like it. I was SUPER tired from getting poor sleep but did half of this guy’s commission stream anyways. I’d say it went well. Before my shower I shaved because I was getting tired of my pubes tbh. Not that they were that bad but I’m starting to hate even a little hair. I skipped my workout on account of being too tired and had a good nut in the shower. Lunch was some decent Rice a Roni and during my afternoon work, I idled in VRchat for a little bit. In one Black Cat instance, I got kicked within 30 seconds for being a furry. I was finding VR to be distracting because I wasn’t really satisfied with the worlds I was finding so I kept hopping. Eventually I settled in my own world in a group instance under the Furry group but no one joined. I swear that world is cursed to never get traffic. Maybe if I updated the thumbnail, something about it could be putting people off for some reason. While working on my world for an hour, I got very focused which was nice. I had fun and made an animated sink. In the afternoon I joined a friend’s server for just a little bit and had a nice short chat before leaving. I wanted to hang out with someone else but they seemed busy and I really think I need to work on being myself more anyways. I’ve had trouble being on my own today because it’s hard to stop thinking about that one thing you want to do. I played some Zelda and watched MoonMoon stream. Earlier I got into a futa mood because Daisy had a dream about it which was very hot. She also cucked me with AI Sidon a little which got me totally cuck brained. I was super into it for a bit, I don’t know what it is that I like so much. Maybe it’s just a special kind of humiliating, and I like my humiliation. I also had a drink tonight since I didn’t have one last night, made the night a little more fun. After Daisy called and went to sleep, I found an excellent IRL cuck video that I utilized. 

I’m thinking maybe I could try journaling throughout the day if I remember to. Sometimes I want to rant about something in the moment but not at the end of the day when I just wanna go to bed. I also want to evaluate how I might have done today differently or what could have made it better. Asking Daisy for time this evening would have been nice, even if she said no. I have a habit of worrying I’m being too much so sometimes I try to reign myself in even though that means I might be missing chances to fulfill my social wants because they might want to hang out just as much as I do. I don’t actually know until I ask. I also wish I had focused more in general but I always wish I could do that. It sure would help me to stop thinking about certain things sometimes and would benefit self exploration since I’d be able to take in new information better. If I had remembered before I started shaving, I could have attempted to workout despite how tired I was. Now I have to make up for it tomorrow. 

[enchantinglyjade]

Milk & Honey - Ch. 20

Austin!Elvis x Black!OC

Masterlist

Previous | Next

Summary: Elvis brings Charles and Honey to California

Warning: Swearing

Note: This chapters kinda short, but the next one’s gonna be long to make up for it.

-

Charles was ecstatic to find out his dad was Elvis Presley. He was even more excited to find out that his dad, Elvis Presley, as he loved to re announce every chance he got, was taking us to California. I, on the other hand, was in terror every step of the way. In all my 30 years of life, I have never once left the South and I sure as hell wasn’t in the mindset to leave my comfort zone now. This is not at all how I expected this to go, but I suppose it could have gone much worse and I should just be happy with the way things turned out. Now all I have to do is get the boy to speak to his father.

“The private jet landed ‘bout an hour ago. Should be all filled and ready, waitin for us.” 

I look up from my spot against the car window, pausing my watching as the city rapidly transforms into a giant field of aircrafts. “Private jet? Elvis I told you I weren’t never gettin on no damn plane.” I exclaim.

He laughs from his seat across from me, adjusting his bottom against the leather. “What’d you think we were drivin all the way to Los Angeles?” I cross my arms, sneering at his remark.

The escort drives us through the airport until parking in front of a brown jet. Elvis opens the door helping Charles out. Once he’s standing outside, Elvis reaches back and takes my hand. When I rise to my feet, he pulls me close, whispering into my ear, “Promised I’d bring you flyin one day.”

My heart flutters as he guides me up the stairs and into the plane. I nervously step up them, already missing the feeling of the Earth under my feet. “Don’t worry. I gotchu,” His hands grip my waist from behind, holding me in case I fall. My breath hitches as I turn around to look at him, instinctively placing my hands on top his. He smiles up at me with that same soft and devoted look on his face when he first made this promise to me on top of the ferris wheel. The next few days are going to be absolute torture for my broken heart.

The inside of the plane is lined with wood and red velvet. Charles plops on one of the seats, waiting for me to sit next to him. Elvis speaks to the pilot for a moment, before sitting down across from us.

As the plane takes off, I try talking with Charles to distract myself.

“You excited?” I ask him, fanning my fingers nervously across the velvet of the seats.

He nods enthusiastically, still shy. I bite my lip, looking to Elvis, hoping he may come up with a good ice breaker. Surprisingly, Charles is the one that speaks up first.

“Mama always told me my daddy was gonna be in the Army for a long time. She never told me you were a superstar.” He plays with his seatbelt buckle, not looking at his father just yet.

Elvis shakes his head. “Oh, I ain’t no superstar. But I was in the Army for a while.” Charles stays quiet again. Elvis clears his throat. “So, your mama tells me you really like TV. What kinda shows you watchin?”

Charles springs up at the question, looking excitedly at me as if to ask for permission before speaking to him. I nod with a laugh.

“Well, I watch a lot of things. I’m looking to get into movies one day! You know, like The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly.” He says shooting finger guns off his imaginary belt, shyness already long forgotten.

Elvis’ eyes widen. “You wanna be an actor?” He ponders with a scheming smile.

Oh no. Wait. “Hold on, when have you ever watched The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly?” 

Charles puts his hand up towards me. “Mama, please. We’re talkin business.”

This child. 

Elvis just watches with intense amusement as his son speaks, in a trance of absolute adoration at every word and gesture. Our son is quite the character indeed.

“I always knew you were my dad.” Charles states plain and simple.

Elvis raises an eyebrow at me, before looking back at Charles. “Really, now? Why’s that?”

He holds two fingers up to his lips, pretending to puff off of a cigarette like he’s seen in, apparently, all the movies he’s been watching. “Sometimes, you just know stuff.” He says deviously, earning a wide smile from his father. Then he drops his dramatic act to point at me. “And cause everytime G.I. Blues comes on Mama’s always bug eyed watchin you.”

Elvis takes one look at my embarrassed face before bursting out into laughter. 

“Okay, he gets it.” I say to Charles. Man, does this little boy keep me humble.

Elvis comes down from his fit of laughter. “You know, we got a TV in that wall over there if you wanted to watch somethin. Be a while til we get to LA.” He points to the couch on the other half of the plane, a small TV set up in the cabinet. Charles throws off his seatbelt, jumping from his seat to race over.

Elvis chuckles, sitting back in his seat, before turning back to me with a smirk. Oh, how I’d like to smack that thing right off his dumb face right now. “Been watchin my movies, huh?”

UGH.

I hum sarcastically. “What? You want me to gush over how great of an actor you are or somethin?”

He grins. “No need. ‘Parently you been doin enough of that, wouldn’t wanna tire ya out.”

I sit angrily with my arms crossed while he laughs. 3 more hours of this.

I take a sharp breath in. “So, have you told Marcella.” I say trying to change the subject.

He looks at me through his lashes, before occupying his gaze with something on his shoe. “Som’in like that.” He mumbles.

I drop my arms frustratedly into my lap. “Something like that? Elvis, what are you gonna do when we get off this plane and your wife sees you with another woman and a child?”

He continues looking at his show, shrugging my words off. “She ain’t gonna see nothin just yet. I’ll talk to her tonight and you two can meet tomorrow. ‘Til then, I set you up at a nearby hotel.

I sit back with a sneer, arms still folded. Oh, I knew this was gonna be a bad idea. So happy about the idea of Charles finally having a daddy that I completely forgot that it’d put us on the backburner of all the other shit in his life. This was just another reason why I wanted to keep it a secret. I don’t need Charles to have to go through what I did.

The three hours finally went by. I let Elvis and Charles talk and get to know each other most of the time, but I still felt unsure about the whole situation. There was no way in hell things would turn out okay. I should have just stayed home. This is gonna be a disaster.

When the plane lands, Elvis is first to step out. I stay back trying to pry my child from his movie, who swears there's only 5 minutes left of the film.

“Hey! How’s it goin guys?” Elvis’ voice calls from outside.

“Hey, E.P. We got your call. What’s up? What’d you want us to see?”

I huff, finally getting Charles up. He dashes past me, running out of the plane. 

“Careful Charles! You’re gonna trip on the steps!” I yell. With a groan, I grab my purse and step out of the aircraft, shielding my eyes from the blinding California sun.

Charles is over by his dad, showing the group of men surrounding them some of his moves or something. They laugh at his wildness, but upon seeing me they go quiet, smiles dropping and eyes widening. I fix my dress awkwardly, avoiding making eye contact with any of them. I make my way over, trying so very hard to not let their staring make me so nervous I trip in front of all of them.

Elvis reaches his arm out for me to take. “Guys, this is Bumble.”

“Honey. My name is Honey.” I interrupt.

He chuckles, before pointing out each of his friends. “This is Sonny, Red, Jerry, Lamar, and you ‘member Billy.”

I shake everyone’s hand as he introduces them, except Billy’s, who instead greets me with open arms.

I giggle, embracing him. “How you been, Billy?”

“Oh, just fine now. How’s Pearl?”

I laugh, taken aback by the question. “Married.” I pull away.

“You two know each other?” Sonny asks.

Billy nods enthusiastically. “Yeah! Honey’s been a long time family friend!”

“He threw a football at my head once then tried to date my sister.” I say, arms crossed.

Elvis laughs at the memory. “She threw that football right back at him too. Hit him right ‘tween the eyes!” The rest of the men laugh as Billy smiles, embarrassingly putting his hands in his pocket and his head down. 

Elvis places a hand on my lower back. “Alright, we gotta drop you off at the hotel. Let’s head out.” He says, giving me a gentle push to start walking towards the car. The boys rush to their spots, starting the cars, then waiting for us. He opens the door for me, sitting across from Charles and I again. I had never been in such fancy vehicles in my life, now I’m getting chauffeured around, and riding in private jets. Life is so crazy. I can’t even wrap my head around this day. Everything’s happening so fast.

“Mama! I can see the Hollywood sign! Look!”

“Wow.” I say in awe, staring out the window with him.

“I got a TV special in the morning. I want you to be there.” Elvis states.

I tilt my head away from the window. “Um, okay?”

He chuckles. “It’s ‘posed to help me get back to myself. Be nice to have somethin from home there.” He shyly adds, looking down at his lap.

Aw. That’s so sweet. A soft smile pulls at my lips. Ugh, why is he making me feel things I’ve been trying to forget? He’s married, I’ve moved on, I’m here for Charles. Just gotta keep reminding myself that.

He helps me bring my things into the hotel room, or more, has his entourage do it for him, but he stays to make sure everything’s in check. It’s a beautiful luxury hotel with a nice view of the city and its scattering of tall palm trees right out the window. Charles immediately switches on the TV, then flops down on the giant, fluffy bed and proceeds to ignore us.

Elvis and I laugh. “Well, guess you’re all settled in.” He pushes himself off his spot against the wall.

“Yeah, think we got everything.” I lollygag over to the door behind him, too awkward to speak, but kinda not wanting him to leave either. We stand in the doorway looking at each other, Charles cartoons playing in the background. He props his elbow against the door frame. He towers over me, those blue eyes dancing across my face searching for the right words to say. 

Every time he comes near me my heart can’t help but beat faster. He was right, things just felt like home between us. I felt like I belonged closer to him, like I was made to be wrapped in his arms, but alas, that ring kept us separated.

I rest my head against the door, looking down with a discouraged head shake. “Elvis, what am I doing here?” I ask wearily.

His brows furrow softly, still in a daze while looking at me. “Making sure I can keep an eye on you.”

I sigh. “And then what? I have to go home eventually.”

He pushes off the door frame. “Ain’t nothin you gotta worry about. Let me handle everything.” He reaches his hand out, ratting out my curls like he used to when we were young. “See you in the morning, Bumble Bee.” He chuckles, sending me one of his big, goofy grins as he steps down the hallway, continuing to watch me until the very last crack through the elevator doors until he’s gone.

With a sigh, I go back into the room, shutting the door behind me and groaning against it while I rest my head upon it. God, why does he have to be so cute!? I wish I would’ve just stayed home.

“Mama, are you done crying? I can’t hear Batman.”

.

.

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- Taglist -

@tearupmyhead @chouetteschaussettes @il-giardino @theliterarybeldam @re3kin @anangelwhodidntfall @felicityroth @crash-and-cure @mama-pankow @tzillas @wonderlandlovelove @mirandastuckinthe80s @queenslandlover-93 @coconutessential @pumkiinpasties @buckybarnesbitch00000000 @biafbunny @darkestbeforethedawn16 @dollfaceyourfear @adoreyouusugar @hails-schae @spacegh0ul @im-lame-irl @sargspiderbarnes @whisperily @whatawildone @lukasdreamland @carioquisse @kaitaesupremacy @thella

[wacknroll]

Ya like glitter glue?! PT 3

(Yandere Sun/Moon x reader)

Hello, here is the third chapter to this fanfic!

PT 1, PT 2, PT 4

AO3 link

Word count: 2554

Driving back to your workplace, you think to yourself that maybe going back to potentially confront the same robot that just manhandled you earlier today might not be the smartest of ideas. Especially since they’re malfunction. Hell, he might not even be responsible for the loss of your keys. For all you know, your dumbass dropped them in either the ball pit or even in the staff break room. But your gut told you that it was him, the only thing backing up that belief being that you swore your pant’s side pocket was buttoned up, meaning someone at some point had to have been close enough to unbutton and take them without your notice.

Before you knew it, you were already in front of the Pizzaplex, taking no real time to get there. The only benefit of living so close to a local attraction. You would have just paid for a night in a motel, but the prices were way too ridiculous, and your stubborn ass would prefer to be in the comfort of your own home if you had to choose. You sigh, deciding to commit to this half-baked plan. You exit the car and look at your phone. 11:15, it says, hopefully enough time to search before the place is properly locked up for the night.

Quickly entering the building, you make your way to the staff room first. Better check just in case, you thought to yourself.

---

Looking under the couch while on your hands and knees, you groan in frustration. The keys were nowhere in sight in the break room, meaning you had to look in the play area in the day-care now. You pick yourself up from the floor and head towards the door, only for it to be slammed opened and to have a light temporarily blind you.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” The voice asks, the light now moved away from your face.

You shake your head and rub at your eyes, the white dots finally leaving your face just to be met with the gaze of the security guard, Vanessa.

“I, uh, forgot my keys somewhere,” you explain.

She cocks an eyebrow at that.

“And you didn’t bother to ring in and report your missing keys?” She questions.

“Yeah, I didn’t really give it much thought. I figured I could just try and find myself, seeing as I know what they look like,” you say sheepish.

“There’s another 30 minutes ‘til midnight. If you don’t find them in time, you’ll have to look tomorrow. Unless you want to spend the next 6 hours in here.”

“Uh, no.”

“Good. If I don’t hear from you after midnight, I’m going to just assume you left. If you’re still here after everything is locked up, just head to one of the security offices and radio me. I’m going to leave you to it now, I have other duties to attend to now.” With that, she walks out of the room and continues her patrol.

“Uh, thanks?” You say to her retreating form, leaning out of the room. Vanessa doesn’t give you a reply, as she either didn’t hear you or doesn’t care enough to say anything else.

One of those types of employees, you think. Walking out of the area, you make your way back to the main hall where the entrance to the day-care is. You would eat closer to the day-care, but you went to the other break room simply because it was your usual spot and where the employees you were more familiar with hanged out in. Besides, James would probably kick your ass if he had to walk all the way from the Arcade to the day-care just to talk to you. It was way easier when you were working in Monty Golf.

“I kind of miss that goofy alligator,” you say to yourself.

The day-care centre was still lit up, which you were grateful for as you’d rather your chances of running into Sun than with Moon. In fact, you actually haven’t seen Moon since your first day. Opening the door to the play area, you see that everything is there except for the animatronic himself. You reason that he’s probably in the basement for maintenance tomorrow.

Your keys appear to be no where on the surface of the front desk, so you decide to start looking through the cabinet drawers in search of the keys in hope that Tim might have found them and put them away. The drawer that usually contains small items found in the day-care don’t have any keys in them, meaning you’d have to check the ball pit next. You look over to the other side of the play area and then up at the entrance of Sun’s room, practically willing the animatronic to stay away. Walking at a fast pace, you make your way to the ball pit try to figure out where exactly you might’ve landed.

“Please be in here,” you say, begging whatever entity to make your keys magically appear. After looking for a moment, you decide that it’s best to give up looking in here for now and probably coming in tomorrow during the day to check. You check your phone to see that it’s now 11:50. Sighing, you decide to just give up for now and exit the ball pit, walking towards the large wooden doors of the play area. As you reach the doors, you notice a small box on the middle of the floor.

“What the...?” You look around you in hope of catching whatever might have left the box. Seeing that you were still alone, you slowly walk up to the box and gently open the top of the lid. The content within the box consists of a few pieces of paper and your keys, Freddy Fazbear keychain and all. This development both surprises and fills you with a sort of dread. Double checking your surrounds, you decide to just pick up the box and take it back with you to the car. Making your way out of the day-care, you quicken your pace towards the front entrance of the building, happy that your time spend here was basically boring.

Once you were in your car, you decided to drive straight home before looking through the box. As you turned the car around and away from the Pizzaplex, you swore you saw a tall lanky figure at the entrance doors.

---

Using your rediscovered keys to open the door to your flat, you enter, holding the box under one arm as you lock the door and sit at the kitchen table. Opening the box, you pick up one of the three pieces of paper within.

The first one you pick up is the finger painting that Sun shoved in your face on your first day in the day-care. The painting was different though, as it was obviously ripped apart and then sticky taped back together, as if someone tore it in anger and then quickly regretted their actions. Definitely not creepy in anyway that so ever, you think to yourself. You put the drawing to the side and proceed to pick up another one. This one was a letter, written in red crayon and having a smiling face at the top right corner.

“Sorry for taking your keys,” you read out loud. “I put some sunnydrops in the box just for you. Please don’t be mad, I just wanted to see you again but realised you might be angry with me about taking the keys. Yours truly, your super best friend, Sun.”

You give a small frown at this, unsure about if you’re still angry with the animatronic now. You look in the box and see that there is in fact a large hand full of sunnydrops at the bottom of it. There isn’t any point in eating them now though, seeing as you won’t be able to sleep tonight if you do. With this, you place Dun’s apology letter on top of his painting and reach for the last one left.

This one was in black crayon and written in all capital letters, only contain the word ‘LIAR’ over and over again. Flipping the page over, you see that it was written on both sides of the piece of paper. The letters were written so hard on the paper, that there was scratches and dents from the pressure of the crayon.

“What the fuck?” You say to yourself. This was definitely creeper than the torn-up painting. Was this about earlier when Sun asked you what Tim and you were talking about? Did he realise afterwards that you were lying or knew straight away? These questions kept running through your head until you realised something. How did Sun place that box in the day-care if he was supposed to be in maintenance?

These questions were left unanswered as you packed it all away back in the box and went to bed.

---

You slept in that night, seeing as you weren’t going to be working today anyways. When you finally got up, you decided that you should ring up Brenton about that maintenance report on Sun. Getting your phone and ringing up, the phone is quickly answered.

“This is the working manager at Freddy Fazbear’s Mega Pizzaplex. How may I help you?”

“Hi, Brenton. It’s Y/n, I was wondering if Sun’s maintenance report has come in yet?”

“No one filed a report to have him checked.”

This response wasn’t what you expected.

“What do you mean by that? Didn’t Tim hand one in yesterday?”

“Tim didn’t send in a maintenance request yesterday. What he did hand in was his resignation letter.”

“What do you mean he quit?” You ask, completely baffled from the news.

“He sent me an email with his reason last night,” Brenton replied.

“Just an email? Didn’t you see him at all?”

“Look, Y/n, I’m very busy. I don’t watch every employee that comes in and out of the premises. I’m actually still dealing with all the paperwork from when the day-care attendant snapped a child’s arm like a twig.”

“Well, didn’t you take him to maintenance for that at least?”

“Look, it’s just easier having naptimes taken off of the daily rooster than it is to fix the damn robot. Do you know how expensive it is to repair or replace an animatronic that can switch between two personas? Hell, he’s probably the most expensive robot we have, right behind Monty and that giant list of damage control that follows him!” Brenton’s voice becomes more heated as he speaks, making you wince a little at the growing volume.

You hear a long sigh on the other end of the phone.

“Sorry about that,” he finally says, calmer than before. “I just have a never-ending stack of Monty related incidents that gets bigger each time I look at it. But look, there isn’t much I can do, as I have bigger priorities at the moment.”

“Okay, but what about my shift for the rest of the week? Did you tell me that Tim was the only other qualified worker to take on afternoon shifts at the day-care? Who is going to work with me tomorrow?”

Another sigh comes from Brenton.

“I’ll have it sorted. I might even have to hire someone a step down from what we usually have working in there. It’ll be sorted beforehand, I assure you. I’ll be going now; I have a mandatory meeting to get to.”

Before you even have the chance to say goodbye, he hangs up.

“Goodbye to you too, then.” With that, you drop onto your couch and scroll through your phone. You decide that you should try to text Tim, seeing as he gave you his number in case you had any questions related to working in the day-care.

‘Hi, it’s Y/n. I just heard that you quit yesterday, what’s that all about?’ You type. Placing the screen onto your chest, you wait for a response text.

After a few minutes, your phone vibrates. You quickly lift the screen up and see that Tim replied.

‘Yeah, family related. Sorry.’

That’s a good enough as to why he quit, you reason. You then text back.

‘Sorry to hear, dude! Hopefully it’ll go well!” You then add a little smile emoji to the end of the text.

The second reply he sends is nearly instant this time.

‘Thanks. I got to go now. Busy. Bye!’

You send a bye back in response. Now a bit more at ease than before, you decide to get some stuff done in the house while you can. Cleaning your many work shirts, tidying the place, and then watching some movies. By the end of the day, you are exhausted and decide to go to bed a little earlier than normal.

---

Sun stares down at the phone in his hand, reading your messages over and over again. He was excited to finally have a way to talk to you outside of your working hours but was a little annoyed that he had to pretend to be someone else. Even though you and Tim were on the other end of the play area, his hearing could pick up everything the both of you heard as if he was right next to you. Maintenance? Why would he need maintenance? He didn’t even do anything wrong! You were perfectly fine when you landed in the ball pit, though a bit shaken up. The screen of the phone he holds cracks a bit, snapping him out of his thoughts. Sun quickly turns the phone back on to see if it is still functioning and is happy when it is.

When you left work, not even saying goodbye to Sun, Tim went back to dealing with the angry parents who calmed down once one of the managers showed up. By the time basically everyone but Tim was gone, Sun was practically livid. The fact that you went to Tim to get him to take Sun away made him furious by the second. The animatronic had never felt this way before and felt confused as to how to react. So, he did the only thing he could think to do in that moment. When Tim had his back to Sun, he turned off the lights.

Once the lights were back on, Sun was sitting in his room, no evidence of Tim anywhere to be found. All but the phone he now held. Not wanting to think about what he had done, you decided to put something together for you. Grabbing a box, he put in some sunnydrops and wrote an apology letter along with placing his finger painting of the both of you. Then he placed your keys on the top. He felt bad about taking your keys, even though he thought you would realise they were gone and come back straight away.

At some point, the lights go off again and Moon decides to also write his own letter to you, expressing his anger about what you did earlier in the only none physically violent way he could. Moon contemplates crushing your keys just to be petty but reframes from the action.

“No, no, no. We can punish Y/n for being a naughty little liar another day.”

[whimsicallyenchantedrose]

Christmas Reruns 2023 Day 9: Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas (2/3)

Merry Christmas if you celebrate it and happy holidays if you don’t!  One of the things I love about Christmas is watching reruns of all the old classic Christmas movies–Christmas is a big time for nostalgia.  A few years ago, I decided to incorporate that tradition into my fandom life and post my CS holiday reruns.  So here you go!  Enough holiday (mostly) fluff to get you to New Year’s Day. (With a new story posting on Christmas Day.)

Rating: G

Word Count: 2545

Other chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32

Notes: This story was originally written in 2014.

Walking in a Winter Wonderland

“Looks like your boyfriend learned about Christmas,” David said dryly as he pushed open the sheriff’s station door.           

Emma elbowed her way past her father to have a look and then barked out a laugh.  A veritable forest of mistletoe hung above her desk and chair.  David was right; it couldn’t be the work of anyone but her adorable idiot of a pirate.

“Although if he really wanted to get you to kiss him,” David continued, draping his winter coat over the back of his own chair, “he would have hung it inside one of the jail cells.  We left the station locked when we went on rounds, so I’m pretty sure this qualifies as breaking and entering.”

Emma grinned.  “Cut him some slack, Dad.  There are far, far worse things he could have done, don’t you think?”

“That depends,” David replied with a frown.

“Yeah?  On what?”

“Whether or not he makes use of the mistletoe when I’m around.”

Emma laughed again, still amazed at the happiness that was her life at the moment.  Seriously, who would have thought that Emma Swan, the unloved, unwanted orphan would one day have to deal with an overzealous pirate boyfriend and an overprotective father?

“I’ll make him behave,” Emma promised.  “At least while you’re around.”

David grimaced.  “You had to tack on that last part?”

“Yep,” Emma replied, taking a seat.  “Deal with it Dad; your little girl’s dating a pirate.  Bound to be some…um…misbehavior.  Probably on both our parts.”

David groaned.

Her dad put up a good show, but Emma knew that’s all it was—a show.  The bromance was strong with these two.  Emma didn’t know who was happier that her relationship with Killian was still going strong, her or her dad.

A month had passed since Gold’s sorcerer’s hat stunt, and they were all still reeling from it to various extents.  She’d had nightmares about it every night for a solid two weeks following the incident.  Nightmares where they didn’t make it in time.  Nightmares where she, her mom and Belle arrived at the clock tower a moment after Gold had finished crushing Killian’s heart into a fine powder.  She’d woken up shaking and bathed in sweat. 

If Gold had succeeded…she couldn’t even bring herself to finish the sentence.  The very thought scared her more than anything in her life had ever scared her.

It was in that moment when she was frozen in place, helpless to protect Killian, that she gave up the last bit of pretense.  She loved him; there was no denying it.  Just the sight of him was enough to make the butterflies start tap dancing in her stomach.

“What do you think of my first attempt at decorating for the season?” 

Speak of the devil. 

Killian strode in with the confidence (and looks) of a fashion model.  He leaned down, brushed a kiss against her cheek and then straightened with the grin she’d come to learn meant trouble.

“Not bad,” she said, “but you know people usually just hang one sprig of mistletoe, not a whole garden.”

He tsked, and frowned at her playfully.  “And where would be the fun in that?  I’d prefer to increase my chances of finding myself under it with a fetching lass rather than limit them.”

He pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her.  “Speaking of which, it appears you and I are currently standing beneath a particularly hearty specimen.  Holiday traditions must be observed, darling.  Good form and all.”

She grinned and looped her arms around his neck.  “So what are you waiting for?”

His smile turned distinctly wicked.  “Not a thing in the world, love.”

A wildfire raged between them at the first touch of his lips to hers.  It was always like this between them; like someone had tossed a lit match on a mountain of dry kindling.  Emma tilted her head, instantly deepening the kiss, reveling in the feel of his hand in her hair anchoring her to him, his hook at her back urging her closer.

David cleared his throat.  Loudly.  Whatever adjectives could be used to describe her father, “subtle” was not one of them.  Emma pulled away with an apologetic look at her boyfriend, then turned to face her dad.  Killian reached down and laced his fingers with hers.

“You guys mind?” David asked with a hint of exasperation.  “This is a place of business after all.”

“Funny,” Killian said with a smirk, “you seemed to be singing an entirely different tune that night last week when I walked in to find you and your lovely wife similarly expressing your affection.”

David spluttered.  “That’s…that’s different!”

“Aye?  How so?”

“It’s different because…because…well, because it just is.”

Killian laughed with such good humor that soon even David joined in.  “Look,” her father finally said, “I’m glad you two are happy together, I really am, but could you keep the PDA to a minimum while I’m around?  Please?”

Killian sketched a bow.  “I shall endeavor to control myself, but confronted with your daughter’s ravishing beauty, I am, more often than not, unable to express my admiration any other way.”

Emma laughed and swatted him playfully.  “You are so full of it.”

“Aye,” he returned with a flirtatious wink, “but I noticed you failed to put up a protest at my ‘PDA’ a moment ago.”

“I’ll admit,” she returned, placing her free hand over his heart, a gesture she found herself making more and more frequently since his ordeal with Gold, “kissing you is kind of addicting.  So, what’s up?  We weren’t supposed to meet for lunch for another hour or so.”

“I’ve come to steal you away, love,” He said, giving her hand a squeeze.  “The snow has bathed the woods in a blanket of loveliness, and I wish to share it with my favorite lass.”

“I can’t just go take a stroll in the woods,” Emma said.  “For one thing, it’s cold.  For another, I’ve got work to do.  And did I mention, it’s cold?”

The look on his face was two parts puppy and one part wicked.  “If we don’t go, I’ll be forced to hang around and, no doubt, nauseate your father.  We wouldn’t want that, now would we?  Besides, I’m…more than capable of keeping you warm.”

“Ugh,” David said.  “Emma just go with him.  I’ll cover for you.”

“Well,” Emma said, grabbing her coat and hat, “if you both insist…”

“We do,” David and Killian said in unison.

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

Emma had to admit it was beautiful and peaceful out here. And with Killian’s arm draped around her, surprisingly warm as well.  On impulse, she reached up and pecked him on the cheek. 

“And what was that delightful gesture for, Swan?”

She shrugged.  “No reason.  Just…thank you.  You were right.  It’s nice to get away from the craziness of the town for a while.”

He smiled, making the crow’s feet stand at attention at the edges of his eyes.  “Darling, when are you going to finally realize that I’m always right?”

Emma rolled her eyes but couldn’t keep the grin from her face.  “Don’t hold your breath, pirate.”

“Thought as much,” Killian muttered under his breath.

Emma had never been a big fan of winter.  She hated the cold, and the snow drove her crazy—especially now that she was the sheriff and was called to every fender bender and slide-off in the whole damn town.  Killian, however, seemed to have an entirely different opinion on the matter.  His face was lit up with the wonder and awe of a child as he trudged through the ankle-deep snow and watched the flurries continue to drift down.

“You seem to be enjoying this weather,” she observed, reaching up to feather her fingers through his hair and dislodge the stubborn snowflakes that had evidently decided to take up residence there.

“Aye,” he said, looking down at her with a delighted grin.  “Always reminds me of a day I spent with Liam many, many years ago.”

Emma perked up at the mention of Killian’s brother.  “You never talk about him.  I always assumed the memories were too painful for you.”

Killian smiled tenderly.  “Aye, some memories are.  It seems no matter how many centuries go by, the sting of his passing will never truly fade.  I do, however, have many, many pleasant memories of him, and the day we spent in the snow is certainly one of those.”

“Would you tell me about it?”

“Of course,” he complied without hesitation.  “It was one of the last good memories I had of my family.  My mum died the following year, and my father was never the same after her passing.  At any rate, I was but a wee lad at the time, five, maybe six years old.  Liam was a good ten years my senior and I nearly worshiped him.  He’d just informed me that he would be leaving in less than a fortnight upon his first ship; I no longer recall her name.  He was to be a cabin boy and I’ve rarely seen a lad so excited.  I was, of course, devastated that my brother, my hero, would be leaving me in a matter of days.”

“I can only imagine,” Emma soothed.  Killian felt things so deeply; his entire heart and soul were invested when he loved.  Liam’s departure must have hit him hard.

“Aye,” he said with a grimace.  “Anyway, on the day in question, Liam woke me, excited about the newly fallen snow.  We two spent the entire day reveling in it—making snowmen and snow fortifications.  Engaging in a rather ruthless snowball fight.  It was a day I wouldn’t trade for all the rum in the Enchanted Forest.”

“It sounds great.”

“Aye, that it was.”

They lapsed into silence for a time.  Emma rested her head against his shoulder, and she felt him brush a kiss against the crown of her head.

“So how was your breakfast with Henry?” Emma asked.

“Informative,” Killian said, and Emma could hear the smile in his voice.  “The lad is a wealth of information.  He seems quite excited for this Christmas holiday.”

Emma sighed.  “Yeah.  Seems like it’s all he can talk about.”

Killian looked over at her.  “From your tone, I take it you don’t share his sentiments?”

“No.”  The word was definitive, emphatic.

“The lad told me as much,” Killian admitted.  “He was concerned that you seem unwilling to participate in this realm’s Christmas traditions.”

Emma grimaced.  “I was hoping it would be enough for him to get all the Christmas crap at Regina’s or my mom and dad’s.”

Killian stopped walking and turned her toward him.  “The lad didn’t come to me because he needs more Christmas; he came to me because he’s worried about you.”

Henry was worried about her?  Because of Christmas?  “He doesn’t need to be.  I’m fine.”

Killian looked at her skeptically.  “Swan, I’ve seen you ‘fine’.  I’ve seen you happy.  I’ve seen you content.  You are feeling none of those emotions.  This ‘Christmas’ is obviously a source of pain for you.  Please, tell me why that is.”

Emma sighed.  There really was no point trying to hide anything from this man.  “It’s just…I don’t know.  Christmas is all about family and happiness and being together and stuff.”

“And these are bad things?”  At some point, Killian brought his good hand up to cup her face, and he was gently caressing her cheek with his thumb. 

“No…”  Emma drew out the syllable.  “Not in general, but for an unwanted little girl in the group homes it was torture.  I mean, everywhere you turned you’d get assaulted with images of happy little families doing happy little family things.  Every time you turned on the TV you’d see commercials and movies and everything else where everyone was perfectly happy and enjoying each other’s company.  The songs talk about it being the happiest time of the year, or about how people love going home for the holidays or the love of family.  You know what it was for me?  It was a slap in the face.  It was yet another reminder that I’d never had that and probably never would.”

The compassion in Killian’s eyes nearly broke her.  He dropped his hand from her face and gathered her into his arms, holding her tight.  She clung to him, drinking in the love he offered her.

“Emma,” he whispered., “there are so many, many people who love you.  So many, many people who would do anything to make you happy.”

The tears rushed to her eyes.  “I know, and it means everything in the world to me.  It’s just—I don’t know.  Childhood memories die hard.  I don’t know if I can even do all the ‘happy family Christmas’ stuff.”

“But you said it yourself, love,” Killian reasoned, stroking her hair.  “Christmas isn’t about perfectly fulfilling the traditions you’re accustomed to.  It’s not about living up to the standards you believe the ‘perfect’ families attained.  It’s not about fulfilling a checklist of Christmas items.  It’s about being with the ones you love; showing them how much you care.”

Killian pulled away.  “Let us love you,” he said simply.  “Let us show you how much you mean to all of us.  Let us build our own traditions, our own memories.  Perhaps they won’t erase the pain of the past, but trust me love, the good memories, the beautiful moments—they shine as brightly as the star Leroy attempted to force me to place on the top of Granny’s tree—if you but let them.  They are like the sun that blots out the light of the stars.  Losing Liam to dreamshade—it was one of the darkest days of my life.  The pain of losing my brother, the man who was captain and brother and hero to me, was such that words cannot describe.  Even so, traumatic as that day was, it cannot hold a candle to the simple joy of that day spent playing in the snow. ”

“I wish I’d met Liam,” Emma said with a wistful smile.

“As do I love,” Killian said.  “He would have liked you—and would have thanked his lucky stars that I’d finally found myself a beautiful blonde savior to point me back to the man I wish to be.”

Emma stroked his face.  “He’d be proud of you, Killian.  You’re a good man; one of the best and most honorable I know.”

Killian turned his head and brushed a kiss against her palm.  “You can have no idea how sweet those words sound coming from your lips.  I have but one bit of advice for you, love: don’t run from the love of family and the joys of Christmas all around you.  Make new memories, good memories.  I can promise you; you won’t regret it.”

Emma reached up and brushed a soft kiss against his lips.  “Maybe you’re right.”

“Again with the skepticism, darling?  Didn’t we just establish I’m always right?”

Emma chuckled.  “Whatever.  I’m hungry.  Are you going to take me to lunch or not?”

Killian sketched a bow.  “My lady’s wish is my command.”

–Up next, Emma and Killian return to her apartment after the town’s Christmas Eve party.

NEXT CHAPTER->

[vkelleyart]

Story Time: Get a load of what happened to me at Starbucks today.

There’s a running joke among people who know me personally that I unwittingly go out in public with a sign on my forehead stating “I Am Non-Threatening. Come Talk To Me.” Because if there’s a chance a bizarre conversation with a total stranger is going to happen, I’m typically the person it happens to.

Some context: I have been pretty darn sick this week. (It’s not Coronavirus, don’t worry.) Since the work in my queue for my day job is comprised entirely of audio narration right now, and I currently sound like a waterlogged Demi Moore, I haven’t been able to work these last couple of days. As a result, I’ve been using my down time to knock out as much of Manu’s redesign as possible. Today, to ensure I didn’t spend the day languishing in sinus misery, I medicated the crap out of myself and took Manu to the Starbucks down the block from my son’s day care.

I hit the bathroom, then picked an empty table, but as soon as I sat down with my venti Comfort Tea and started tweaking the inks on my iPad, I felt the eyes of the man next to me looking over my shoulder.

When I looked up, he had his phone out. “I’m sorry,” he said (in a thick accent I couldn’t place geographically), “I don’t want to disturb. I notice you art. You are artist!”

I tried to smile. “Yes, I’m... Well, I’m trying to be,” I croaked.

He leaned in, like he was sharing a secret.

“I am artist, too.”

He stuck out his hand.

I gently took it, grateful for the bathroom trip I just took in which I washed the scourge off of my fingers.

“Can I?” he asked, holding his phone up.

“Take a picture? Uh... sure,” I said. It’s not like he would be able to steal Manu out from under me or anything, I figured. The panel I was tweaking was magnified out to Guam.

“I am artist. Architect and Designer,” he clarified while he steadied his phone over my iPad. “I am Ilker. What is your name?”

“I’m Venessa” I said, trying to be polite. This, I thought warily, is precisely how I get myself into trouble. I’m too damn nice.

“You know, I come to America twenty years ago from Turkey...”

I put down my stylus. This was going to be a while.

“I like Turkey,” he explained. “I like the country and I like the people. But I am artist. I am not... religious man.”

I nodded.

“I told my wife I was going to go to America and she said, “what are you going to do? You don’t have job! You don’t have money! No Visa!” And I said, “I am artist and architect. I will paint and sell my paintings.

“So I come to America alone. To New York City. I sit outside, and I paint. And people, they liked my paintings. They bought them. This one for $30, that one for $50.

“One day, a man comes over to me and he say, “I like your painting. I see you are also architect.” And he gives me his number and asks me to go to meeting at his office. Because he wants to offer me a job. He starts to talk about a building contract.

“I tell him I don’t know anything about contracts. I have no Visa. I am not American citizen. But he says, “That’s okay. I will take care of everything. You will have nothing to worry about.” And this man, he gave me a job. $173,000 a year. And my wife, he gave her a job too. She was project assistant. I bring her and my two daughters over from Turkey.”

“Wow,” I said, not fully believing the veracity of what sounded like a full-on immigration fairy tale.

“Here,” said Ilker, unlocking his phone and opening up his Facebook app. “I show you my work.” He paused and looked up at me. “I am interrupting. You don’t mind?”

At this point, I was invested. I had to see. Because whatever he was about to show me would either prove or disprove this yarn he was spinning. “Please,” I said, gesturing for him to go ahead.

He opened his photos and my jaw dropped. His work... was UNREAL.

“This is building I designed on Madison Ave.... And this one in Chelsea...”

Holy crap. I had just been to Chelsea with my sister last month on a trip to see a broadway show. I had crossed the intersection of the building he was, at this moment, telling me he designed.

He flipped through more buildings. These, he’d designed in Washington, DC. In Bethesda. In Arlington. All beautiful, streamlined, modern structures I had visited and parked my car in front of. He told me he did much of his concept work freehand. That he worked exclusively in natural media. His preferred media was pen, ink, watercolors, and chalks.

Between photos of his wife and daughters, he went on to show me photos from the RUSSIAN EXHIBITION OF HIS ARCHITECTURE ARTWORK.

Y’all, I was stunned. I couldn’t believe the talent I was sitting next to. Scattered among these gloriously rendered images of some of the most beautiful building concepts I’d ever seen were paintings of scenes in Central Park, the National Mall, and nudes from a life-drawing session he attends from time to time.

When he was done flipping through his phone, he looked at me and smiled. “I hope you don’t mind that I interrupt you. I show you all this because what you are doing is very good. And you should be encouraged. To draw is to make beauty.”

I nodded, a lump in my throat. “Thank you,” I managed. “Your work is astonishing. I don’t even know what to say. What is your name again?”

He held out his hand once more. “Ilker Kocahan,” he said. “I am getting more coffee. Can I get you one?”

I looked at my still-full venti cup. “No thank you. But here, please take my card.”

He held my dinky business card like I’d handed him a treasure and thanked me.

Then Ilker got his coffee, and left the coffee shop.

At some point in his ramblings he talked about America as a place of dreams. How he credits this country with helping him rise to the top of his field where he is now able to sell his paintings for $800-$1000 a piece now that he’s retired. My heart ached to hear him talk about that, knowing how our leadership’s positions on immigrants have taken such a dark and horrifying turn.

Imagine the buildings and museums and public places that would never have been if a business man in the park hadn’t lifted up a Turkish painter who spoke little English.

And now that painter was paying it forward on me.

I still feel pretty darn sick. I’ve still got body aches and a nose that has taken the rest of my face hostage.

But today was a really good day. And I just wanted to share it with you in case you are looking for reasons to keep drawing/painting/dancing/writing. It all counts and it is all good.

If you would like to see Ilker Kocohan’s work, please click here.