#it’ll hopefully get done either today or tomorrow

[spideyhexx]

to hype myself up I am informing you all that I am working on a double penetration blurb with sej x coryo x reader

[edupunkn00b]

Spaced

WC: 1416 - Rated: T - CW: mild swearing, minor angst, happy ending

Happy Birthday, Roman. The moment I saw the video explaining Roman's birthday celebration would be late, I couldn't get this out of my head, so, here we go…

Illuminated only by the fairy lights draped along his walls, and the dull blue glow of his phone screen, Roman sat up in bed and scrolled through Thomas’ mentions. 

No big deal, just going feral…

Dayum, the LACE! Those HEELS!

Not to be a lesbian but…

Logan is the HOTTEST side, hands down!

Growling, Roman flung his phone across the room. Lucas popped up and caught it in one hand just before it hit the wall. “Temper, temper, my Prince,” he tutted before launching the phone up into the air and smashing it with his baseball bat. “You could break your phone like that.”

Roman conjured a new device and let his head fall back against the pillows, eyes squeezed shut. If he didn’t look at him, maybe he would just leave.

It didn’t work. 

“Get out,” he said, listless. Roman had burned up all his rage on throwing the phone and now he just felt… tired.

“That’s it?” Lucas chuckled. Glass crunched underfoot as he stepped closer to the bed. “Where’d that fire go?”

“Catharsis.”

Laughing, Lucas tapped his bat against his orange Doc Martens, knocking away bits of glass and shattered plastic from the chipped and dented wood. Roman glared at him. “Why are you here?” 

He scooped up a handful of the glittery remains of Roman’s phone from the floor. “Do you really have to ask? Or do you just enjoy stupid questions?”

Eyes fixed on his new phone, Roman did his best to pretend Lucas didn’t exist. Switching apps, he scrolled through his history until he found today’s video.

“…This month has been wild and I’ve just been so focused on the Logan skirt photoshoot that I’ve been working on… I completely forgot there were Sides birthdays comin’ up this month…”

Roman’s thumb hovered over Thomas’ face on the screen, ready to pause but knowing that wouldn’t stop the next words from coming. Wouldn’t stop them from playing on a loop in his head as they had for the past four hours.

“…Hopefully it’ll come out the week after? I’m working on it… I completely spaced.”

Three brief knocks broke his concentration and his phone fell to his lap. Roman looked up to where Lucas had stood, but he and the destruction he’d caused was gone. Three more knocks. “Roman?” Logan’s voice outside the room was low, but modulated to be heard through the door. “Roman, I wanted to apologize.”

“What for?” he asked, filling the air as he moved to the door.

“I am in charge of the schedule,” he said, voice clipped. “I should have alerted Thomas to the tight timeline and predicted that—”

“It’s fine, Specs,” Roman muttered, picking at a loose thread on his sash. “I don’t blame you.”

“Lies, lies, lies, lies, lies…” Janus sang quietly, close enough his breath ruffled Roman’s bangs.

“Don’t you ever knock?” he hissed back, adjusting his hair.

“Now why would I do that?” Janus arranged himself on Roman’s chaise, legs crossed and one arm draped over the backrest. “When I can simply make myself at home.” Roman stepped closer, prepared to tip the Lord of the Lies right out of his seat.

“Roman?” Logan was still outside his door. Could he hear Snakeface?

Roman shook his head and let out a slow breath before approaching the door again. “Truly, Logan, we have the birthday video planned for the day after tomorrow. You made sure of it. Ultimately it was Thomas’ choice. I am fine—“

“Oh, sweet, sweet lies…” 

Roman shot Janus a look, jaw clenched, but he kept his voice even and calm. “And I will be down momentarily. I’m nearly done with this script.”

Janus shrugged and disappeared.

“Very well.” Logan was either mollified or else he correctly determined further argument would get him nowhere. “We’ll see you shortly, then.”

One hand pressed to the door, Roman listened to the retreat of Logan’s footsteps down the hall.

“I thought he’d never leave!” Remus cackled from behind him.

Roman spun around. Remus lay sprawled on his bed, head hanging off the side, a series of red and purple splotches running over his neck and down his chest.

“Your hickeys are showing.” Roman rolled his eyes and sat at his vanity. “Here,” he said, offering a golden compact and a beauty blender. “This tone suits you. Cover up.”

“Why would I want that?” he laughed, shoving the compact back at him. “Everyone downstairs will understand how I ended up with these.” Remus locked eyes with his reflection. “Today the whole world saw how hot our Nerdy Wolverine really is.”

Avoiding his brother’s gaze, Roman opened the compact and dabbed at the shadows under his eyes.

“Or didn’t you notice?” Remus added, chin propped up on his fists and kicking his feet.

“Of course I noticed!” Giving up on his makeup, Roman snapped the compact shut and stomped over to his bed. “He looks amazing but that’s not the point! This is the beginning of June and tomorrow’s my—“ Roman’s voice cracked and he plopped down on his bed, hiding his face against the cool satin duvet.

“Now we’re gettin’ somewhere…” Remus purred, inching closer and tilting Roman’s face so he wouldn’t smother himself in the plush bedding. He tapped his brother’s temple. “I could hear you all the way from my room.”

“Apparently so could Janus,” he mumbled.

“Hey,” Remus laughed. “At least you weren’t feeling murderous enough that Lucas could—“

Roman heaved a sigh and flipped over onto his back. “He was here, too.”

“Pretty fly for a Light guy.” When Roman merely shrugged and closed his eyes, Remus snaked too-long nails through his hair, like a bonobo searching for lice.

Roman shuddered. Remus would just as likely put lice in his hair just to pick them out again. “You know Tommy-gun admitted to forgetting both of our birthdays,” Remus sing-songed.

“Yes, I know,” he breathed. “You’re right.” Roman opened his eyes just in time to catch his brother’s frown. Just before he plastered his face in another manic grin. “But he has time to do something proper for your birthday.”

“You know he’ll make it up to you,” Remus said, more serious than Roman would’ve expected. “Jannie wasn’t lying. You’ll always be his hero.”

“I know,” Roman muttered, nearly believing it.

“Do you need me to go get Jannie?”

“No!” he said, louder than he intended. “No, I mean…” Roman shook his head, out of words. Out of any words worthy of a prince, at least. Laying back, hands folded over his belly, he let Remus pick at his hair and they both fell quiet. Quiet enough for the sounds of the others preparing an impromptu party for Logan to filter through the gap between his door and the hallway.

Sudden laughter rang out from downstairs. Logan’s laughter. The brothers’ eyes darted to the door in perfect unison.

“Now when was the last time you heard that?” Remus murmured.

Roman sighed. It’d been far too long. “I don’t remember, actually.” He sighed again and turned to his side, head pillowed on his brother’s knee. “I know I can’t begrudge him this celebration.”

“Well, you could,” Remus drawled, scratching his head.

“I’d be a real dick if I did.”

“Ah! Language!” Remus scolded, tone serious. But when Roman looked up, his brother was grinning. “You know what’ll make ya feel better?”

“What?” Roman tried not to smile but Remus’ grin was infectious.

“LIke pus,” he winked, reading his mind. “A little tromp through my side of the Imagination will turn that frown upside down. Slaughter some slimy demon spawn?” He wiggled his eyebrows and conjured his morningstar. “I’ll even let ya borrow Lucie…”

Roman narrowed his eyes to hide his excitement. It had been a long time since he’d let loose in the Imagination. Nearly as long since the last time Logan himself had let loose.

The voices in the living room grew louder and two sets of footsteps skipped up the stairs. “Come on, Kiddos! We’re waiting for you!”

Roman stood and pulled his brother to his feet, as well. “Tomorrow we shall hunt your orcs. Tonight?” Squaring his shoulders, Roman took a deep breath and caught a glance of his own reflection. He nodded. Very nearly the picture of regality. “Tonight, we celebrate Logan.”

Remus bumped his shoulder and flung his morningstar in the air. It lodged itself into Roman’s ceiling just before disappearing. “And you really have to wonder why you’re anybody’s hero?”

“Shut up,” Roman muttered, still smiling. “Hero.”

[trash-king18]

m pt. 17

no warnings just reader with her sister

————

“you’re late” crystal says as she opens the door

“only by two minutes”

“two minutes that i will be later to work”

“lo se lo se lo siento”

i know i know i’m sorry

she shuts the door

“i thought you and miguel were on the outs”

“we are, what are you talking about”

“wet hair that was clearly washed with men’s products”

“hey!”

“-glowing skin” she sniffs “day old clothes. my guess? you were at his place not even ten minutes ago”

you turn around and roll your eyes at her but when you do your hair that you had positioned to cover your neck falls off your shoulder

she gasps “and y/n Pardo are those hickies?!”

“what?! no” you hastily pull your hair back into place

“oh. my. god.”

“it’s not a big deal”

“mana are you kidding. hickeys are how men claim their territory. they can’t pee on you so they mark your neck for every other person to see that you’re taken even when they’re not around. he’s essentially saying “hands off! she mine”

mine. the thought sends shivers through you

“i thought you were gonna be late to work”

“mm you’re lucky, but we ~will~ talk about this later.”

“Niños, ven a despedirte de tu mamá”

boys come say goodbye to your mama”

Diego and Matias run in and tackle her with hugs and then immediately run over to you next

“se bueno hijos”

be good boys

“tu tambien hermana. hey do yourself a favor borrow something from my closet and uh concealers in the bathroom” she winks

you too sis

she heads out leaving you to a whole day with your favorite boys in the world.

you help Matias with his worksheets for school while Diego showed you all the toys he had gotten for his birthday.. again.

Then you make lunch and decide take them to brighton beach for the afternoon. the water will be too cold to go in but it’ll be a good chance for them to blow off steam and get outside.

the day passes quickly, but you still find your mind wandering back to miguel every so often.

why was he being so… good. even though he was a super hero compared to every other spider man sometimes he didn’t seem like one. superheroes didn’t brood or throw things. and yet he had comforted you through a panic attack, cooked food for you, helped you in… a few other ways.

he had done a fair share of asshole things and you had no intention of mothering him into shape. still he was trying.. and you weren’t perfect either.

you weren’t necessarily thinking about a relationship but… it was starting to feel like you were in one.

before you could spiral any farther down that rabbit hole diego came running up with a shell he’d found.

“woah chico eso es genial”

that’s cool

“puedo quedármelo?”

can i keep it

“por supuesto, podemos enseñárselo a tu mamá”

of course we can show it to your mama”

“Matias, vamos, hora de irse”

come on, it’s time to go

after a lot of begging to stay and a little bit of bribery you were back in the taxi on the way home.

it was dark out and the boys were in bed, Matias was reading to Diego to help him practice. his teachers had apparently noted that he was a little behind but since he’d started doing story time every night he had definitely improved.

Crystal walked in the door looking absolutely exhausted. she came in and kisses your forehead

“i am so glad i never have to worry about you swallowing balloons full of hallucinogenics ”

“what” you laugh

she waves you off and goes to say goodnight to the boys. she comes back out in pajamas and flops down on the couch next to you

“wine?”

“tequila”

“ay ya veo, one of those cases huh?”

she snorts “si”

you pour some tequila and guava juice over ice and hand it to her. she takes a greatful sip and sinks into the cushions.

“wanna talk about it”

“god no. i don’t want to think about work tonight, tomorrow, or at work for that matter”

“fair”

“you know what i do want to talk about”

“the super cool seashell we found at the beach today” you ask hopefully

“yeahhh that and your super fine super hero friend”

“there’s nothing to talk about crystal”

“mm see if you were just fucking that would be true but you’re fucking and fighting and then fucking again”

“so?”

“soooo there’s feelings there. and you are not good at those”

“hey give me some credit here i’ve gotten better about it”

“mm fine maybe a little bit. seriously though y/n you need to talk about it, i know you enough to know you’re probably overthinking about it right now”

“no i- i mean.. maybe a little”

“cmon, spill it, gimme all the juicy details”

“we’re not teenagers im not gonna gossip about boys with you”

“uh yes you are because i’m your older sister and i’m basically the boss of you so talk”

and you do. the tequila makes it easier. you fill her in on every single thing, leaving out only a few select explicit details. when you finally stop talking she stares at you with her mouth hanging open.

“why are you looking at me like that”

“i’m not looking at you any way”

“yes, yes you are. i know that face, you have something to say”

“no no im fine im good”

“i gave you every detail you don’t get to hold out on me now”

“i just.. want you to be careful mana. i know you can take care of yourself but this sounds complicated.. not just physically, emotionally. don’t get caught up in the good moments if they don’t outweigh the bad.”

you look down at your drink

“i know. i’m trying”

“what is it tia may always says? for every bad day, a good man-“

“-makes a hundred good ones. yeah. shes such a bad ass.”

“yeah she is, she never let tío ben get away with anything”

“no she did not. I can still hear her “Benicio! no te alejes de mi”

don’t walk away from me

“Benicio! necesito un bolso nuevo”

i need a new bag

your laughter eventually dies down and you’re quiet for a while.

“i went to see him”

you don’t have to explain. she knows exactly what you mean

“oh you did?” something about the way she says it sounds weird but you dismiss it

“marcus suggested it actually, figured it was time”

“i miss him”

“me too”

she rests her head on your shoulder and you two sit like that until she dozes off. you gingerly take the glass from her hand and set it on the coffee table. it’s almost 1.

you support her head as you lay her down and cover her with a blanket. you check your phone and notice there’s multiple texts from jess and the kids asking about what happened last night. you scroll through them but you stop when you notice a text that had come through two hours ago.

it was from miguel. he never texted, hated using a phone, he just had lyla call you or showed up evidently.

will you be home tonight?

you knew he meant home as in your other universe, but if you were any other two people it could just as easily be a partner asking if you’re coming home, to our shared space. the thought weirded you out.

you weren’t sure wether or not to text back, you

knew he was probably awake working since you weren’t there.

you were so sleepy, you could’ve easily crawled into crystals bed and passed out but you didn’t want to spend another night away from home. you sneak into the boys room and plant a gentle kiss on both foreheads and then climb onto the roof because the living room is too cramped for opening portals.

you step in and step out into your kitchen. you tug your clothes off as you walk to your bed and drop your bag on the floor next to you. you don’t even have the energy to grab pajamas for yourself so you reach for the closest thing which happens to be miguel’s shirt that you’d stuffed in with your jacket on accident before leaving.

you’re asleep before your head even hits the pillow.

————

taglist:

@urmotherswhor3 @kirke-is-my-name @rexxesgirl

@simp4miguell @urmomisafinewoman

@dammittjanet @cheezit-luv3rr @miggyyyyohara

[letstrywritingmaybe]

I’m so fucking tired, the switch to being a morning person is wild. I’ve never been that girlie and I never thought I could be but I’m loving my new job so far. Literally couldn’t be happier, I’m sure as it goes I’ll find things I may not enjoy but so far it’s been amazing. But again this was my first week and I don’t know shit yet. Enough about that, writing wise I’m so sorry I’m super behind. I’m still determined to keep weekly updates for the sibling verse, (delaying posting cause I’m supporting Palestine.) But I want to do multiple updates and at the very least give Vordark my beloved the weekly updates. But I’m too tired to try and write right now, so it’ll have to wait till tomorrow or maybe even Sunday. I’ve been working like nonstop the past three weeks and I don’t even have my Pens to keep me energized. Don’t even get me started on irl relationships with people, I’m still upset. But yeah I’m hoping to be on it soon

Update: dreaming up yet another shinshi verse I can’t write cause I have too many WIPs and I just can’t. But I’m hoping to start the next chapter of the sibling verse before I have to actually get up and ready!

Update 2: I started the next chapter of the sibling verse but had to do some errands and now I’m tired again. I’m gonna nap then watch the mean girls movie then hopefully finish the chapter. We shall see (I did finish the chapter!). Alright, I should have the full day today besides football and airport run way late. So I’m hoping to pick back up on the valentines event, then midnight rain, then the pov series that’s taken me too damn long already to start *sigh but also I would like to read one of my book books too. I’m feeling so behind in everything, and while it’s cause I’ve been so busy. I just wish I could be more on top of things, but I’m only human and it’s been very exhausting existing lately. Most of it is still very filling and I really do truly love my new job but there’s so much I have to learn!

Update 3: irl continues to be a lot. I did not get to go about my day off the way I wanted. It ended up being way stressful, but on the bright side I booked another trip cause of course I did. Okay now I’m gonna try and write. The curse of my main character energy continues, please just let me live my filler episode dreams!!! 😭😭😭

I’m halfway through with the valentine event I think, and idk why I’m exhausted. But I guess I’ve had a long week and today was a lot also. I’m gonna take a nap before I have to go to the airport and pick someone up. Idk if I’ll get more writing done after, and any tomorrow but I will try. At the very least, I’m going to update either the sibling verse or midnights. I believe I’m caught up on comments now, I love when I get to read fics! But now it’s time for bed cause unfortunately I need to be a morning person. One more day off but it’s going to be very busy with rl stuff again *sigh hoping I get some writing done but I’m not holding my breath. Now excuse me while I continue to dream about this fic I have no intention of writing, it’s another memory loss one cause of course it is

Update 4: I’m about to go to sleep cause I need to be a morning person (yes I’m going to keep talking about this until it actually happens) but I think I’m done with the valentines event! Super short chapters so it wasn’t that hard to do, but I’m just glad I got it done! Now I can go back to working on my projects I wanna do once I get used to my schedule. Also I ended up updating the sibling verse instead of midnights cause of my time stamp thing, but I will try again tomorrow

[dlnj]

So after waking up at the end of wetting my diaper (which would have been my bed , he he ) it was already time for me to just about be getting up to go to work 3:30 am wake up to start at 5:30 kind of a bummer but it’s all good, anyway after I was finished wetting my diaper I took it off cause it was soaked and it was get out of bed time, I was just chilling sitting in bed trying to shake the sleep off and a few minutes later I notice I’m leaking on myself and then a few minutes after that again and I could feel that this was going to be one of those days that I’m either going to wear a diaper and assume no one is going to notice (which folks never really notice anything like that , I wear diapers and am part of the ABDL community so I’ve always wondered who around me might be wearing a diaper for what ever reason and I’ve never noticed anyone ever wearing a diaper and I’m sure I’ve had to have been talking to or right near someone who needed to or just liked wearing diapers and I’ve never noticed so most likely no one will notice me wearing my “proper attire” anyway . I’ve been nervous about wearing diapers to work though , since I got my diagnosis and being diaper dependent medically I have made sure to stay diapers ALWAYS at night and then any time I’m not working I’m in diaper . Today I figured it was either wear a diaper and know no one is going to notice or a slight chance someone might or I can leak on my self all day and most likely have a huge accident where everyone around me will notice my pants get all wet in the front then down my leg and forming a puddle in the floor , (it’s happened before, actually a bunch of times ) for all to see , I feel like today was the right day to start wearing diapers 24/7 and accepting that I have pretty much every form of incontinence across the board getting worse as time goes by (yay!! Diapers for me always). I wasn’t quite brave enough to wear my regular everyday diaper but I am wearing a pull up which I hate but if you need diapers and want to be as discreet as possible and aren’t going to wet heavy then a pull-up will work for now, til I’m brave enough to just wear a diaper , not much of a difference if someone notices anyway, no one is going to say “oh that’s not a diaper , it’s a pull-up lol it’ll be the same thing to them lmfao) and I hope I don’t do anything more than just leak cause if I have s full on accident I’ll probably still end up wetting my pants , just probably wouldn’t be as horrible but still embarrassing, wet pants and wet pull-up yup sound like a fun day. Maybe if that happens it’ll be so embarrassing I’ll never want to take the chance of that ever again and then that’s it , 100% total urinary incontinence 100% completely diaper dependency . Either way I’m headed towards being completely diaper dependent, 2.5 more weeks til I see my doctor again and when I do I’m going to have her alter my diagnosis to include complete permanent day time incontinence along with the bedwetting and she already knew some days I need diapers during the day and some days I didn’t so it’s not going to be much of a jump for her to rewrite my diaper order to include a whole bunch more diapers in the mail covered by insurance which I’m still yet to receive but that’s because I have to fix the insurance . I’m hoping to go from potentially getting the hundred plus DIAPERS every month to maxing me out at I think 254 diapers delivered to my door every month in the same day. I think that should be enough diapers every month to wear diapers full time for the rest of my life. Anyway wish me luck everyone . Hopefully no one notices then maybe I’ll be brave enough to change into a diaper instead of the pull up at 9:00 break or maybe at the very least come in tomorrow in a diaper like I should be wearing right now. Really was one of the best thing I could have done for myself was get my incontinence “problem” (I don’t look at it as a problem , I look at it as about damn time I loose control lmfao) diagnosed and having her declare me diaper dependent. Anyway update to come……..

[bvannn]

Weekly update august 18, 2023

I’m writing this a bit earlier than I usually do because unfortunately the medical condition I mentioned last time is unbearably bad today. It hasn’t been too bad this past week but as of the last hour or so I’ve decided not to get up until tomorrow (save for food, bathing, and bathroom) to avoid worsening it. Luckily I got stuff done this morning before it really started to hit.

TRGA: I’m done with Jon’s animations for shot 1-1, and 33% through Emile’s. I’m planning to continue at the pace I have been, and luckily I got the work I assigned myself on it today done this morning, so I am free to wallow this evening. Assuming I’m better tomorrow I’ll try to get another keyframe done, and keep on pace. No sketchy line effects yet either but I’m not anticipating those being too hard as long as I’m careful where I apply them.

General drawing are going slow because I’ve been trying to push myself on music. I was going to screw with my guitar this evening but it’ll have to get pushed to Sunday evening most likely. I got spitfire labs working, as well as their little bbc orchestra set, and as of yesterday I think I got komolete start fixed. I still do not know how it works entirely, but a majority of the vsts are straightforward enough. I’ve been trying to go through and bookmark the ones that’ll be useful, there are a lot of wavy synth noises that don’t really have much use. Also appear to be missing some general instruments as well, anyone who can point me to a good accordion, harmonica, or zunpet vst, preferably free, please do. I think one of the programs with komplete start works like a guitar amp so I do want to try to relearn guitar enough for chords and rhythms. Shouldn’t take too long as long as I reapply note stickers, since guitar is a C instrument, which I was trained in.

Okay actual drawing stuff should hopefully be coming once I get my energy back as well. This next week should be my last week of work at my summer job (which kinda sucks because as tired as this job makes me I do really like it). I am holding my head high for a nice little internship in the fall, which could either be better or worse for me in terms of energy, and there is a good chance I’ll have more time to put into drawing/writing. Or I could just stuff it all into animation too, but I can animate during lecture as well to save time. Especially since I have an online hybrid course, so I can pause lecture, so I’m not even actually slacking off.

I apologize for rambling so much today my mood has been volatile and so has my medical condition. There even a good chance I change plans and do figure out a way to draw without getting up tonight after all. Maybe. Probably not. I hate my body and I want to die but it’s fine because I plan ahead. Maybe I’ll overdose on Tylenol again, I think I’ve been off it for long enough that it shouldn’t hurt my liver.

[jodilin65]

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 29, 1999 I overslept today and didn’t get up till an hour after my alarm was supposed to go off. Thank God that’s all it was. I don’t know why it didn’t go off. It wasn’t set when I checked it, but last night I could’ve sworn it was set.

I didn’t get into my trip to the dentist yet. I gave Tisha the phone number here and our PO Box, and we briefly discussed how we were staying in a short-term rental place while we were having a manufactured home built. Melanie asked me about it, saying she overheard my conversation with Tisha. I told her about it and that I may have to drop her for another ortho. She didn’t comment about that either way, but I tell you, she’d be happy to get rid of me. I always got the impression she didn’t like me much. Good-looking people rarely do, and I guess it’s fair to say I have done enough whining and complaining along the way, that’s for sure!

So, she took me to a room in back I’ve never been in before and the doctor came in a few minutes later and gave me two shots of Novocain. He filled my fillings, then filed my “hill” down. The bottom teeth were sort of uphill towards the right, so I had him file the tops of the left side teeth which were taller, and it looks better.

He also gave me a home fluoride treatment. It’s a tube of toothpaste with fluoride that I brush on as I’d normally brush my teeth after I’ve brushed my teeth with regular toothpaste, then I’m not to rinse it out. It’s to hopefully harden up my enamel. A part of why I could be getting so many cavities is cuz my teeth are too soft.

Later…

Tom got in with the groceries, ate, made some phone calls, beat me by two points at a game of miniature golf on the computer, then went to bed.

They’re still fucking painting and they called a little while ago wanting to paint our door. Tom said he saw them painting the doors purple as he was coming in. He told them today and tomorrow wouldn’t be convenient. They should just fucking wait till we leave. I’m sick of apartments out here! They always have to interfere with your life and have something going on. Why are apartments so obsessed with always having something going on? Do they feel it’ll help them do better business if they appear to always be working on some project? Well, I’m sorry, but they’re not gonna stink our place up with paint fumes and interrupt our lives at $850 a month. If they want to do that shit, they’ll just have to discount us or something.

I guess the people downstairs, but not directly below us, got fed up and didn’t pay up, cuz there’s a note on their door ordering any locksmith from opening the door. They’ll have to get their stuff at the office.

Despite all their activities, the last couple of days have been a little quieter around here. The black lady below us who is pregnant, had cut the banging down to only banging in spurts. She goes in and out but is home for the most part. The blacks next to us are gone, for the most part, thank God, but from about 4:30-6:30, black and white kids are out screaming their lungs out and I stay in the bedroom with the fan. Thank God their living room and patio are not next to the bedroom! There are 3-5 blacks next door who are friends with some white family that either live at the complex or somewhere nearby. The white woman who was out front yesterday talking to the black woman has a husband who’s one of the painters here, according to Tom. The black below us has a van, and I can see it from the bathroom window when it’s here. Nonetheless, see what I mean? Black below me, black next to me, black everywhere! Why oh why can’t I have white neighbors?! I feel like God’s rubbing these Mexicans and blacks into my face and forcing them and their wild lifestyles on me. At least Mexicans can’t afford this place and I think I was wrong when I said that there was a huge Mexican family downstairs. To my amazement, though, I haven’t heard bassy music. Just bangs, screams, and the sanding/painting work.

It’s hard to suddenly undo four years’ worth of damage and just be OK with blacks and Mexicans. It’s like if a woman gets raped - well, she’s not gonna be thrilled with the idea of guys for a while afterward, is she? Getting shit on and abused for no reason whatsoever by a pack of blacks for three years, then by a pack of Mexicans for four months, is not gonna be easily forgotten. It’s just like with the NHA and other people/places that have wronged me. I can’t just spring back and lose my general prejudice toward these people overnight. It’s going to take time. In fact, I may always be uncomfortable around these people for the rest of my life. The damage is done and it may be too late. Again, I wasn’t born a natural racist. I’m only the racist that they made me. However, if a black or Hispanic person is friendly to me, I can be friendly right back.

Tomorrow we’re gonna make a day of it and go out to Casa Grande to pay for the land, as well as check out some stores.

Later…

I should get writing before the late afternoon/early evening banging starts and breaks my concentration.

I’m having mid-cycle spotting again. More so than last month. It’s really weird how I do that a lot these days.

Tom was out at the property the other day and he says it’s big. He said it took him about 200 steps to walk across the property and that it’d probably take me 300 steps. He says you’d be tired after walking along the edge of the property. The bad news, though, is that there are tons of big, slow, black ants that no doubt bite just like the little red fire ants do. That sucks. I was hoping there’d be fewer ants, bees, and spiders out there, but it looks like I hoped wrong.

I trimmed Rapunzel’s hair cuz I thought it looked funny the way it was so overly long and brought it to the hem of her dress. It was too long, past her feet, after all. Especially with her wide-skirted dress. Anne, Edie, Summer Dream, Victoria, Lollipops, and Christina are in the living room, and in the bedroom, I had Patrice, Bailey, Maria, Katie, Ashley, Giselle, Liselle, Mary, and Falling Star. Well, due to all the activity around here, I decided to pack most of the dolls, so now I only have 5 dolls to hide in the closet on maid service day, which will be Patrice, Bailey, Maria, Falling Star, and Summer Dream.

I took pictures of the way the dolls were set up before I packed most of them, including pictures of my teeth with and without the retainers. I’ll make sure Dureen, Art and Tammy get copies of those, along with other pictures I said I intended to send them after we get settled in the house.

Like a lot of businesses, Ashton-Drake’s pretty pushy. They send envelopes with ads for just one doll at a time, with little posters of the dolls, so I started saving them and maybe I’ll make a little doll poster wall after I’ve collected a handful.

It’s definitely true that no two dolls are alike. Not even if they’re the same doll. Giselle and Liselle are of the same mold, of course, but due to the way no two bodies are stuffed alike, they have slightly different poses. Giselle appears to be leaning slightly to the right, while Liselle appears to be leaning slightly to the left.

Later…

It’s getting close to time for next door’s antics. In fact, I can already hear the screaming, so I’ll write later and maybe put my cordless headphones on.

Later…

OK, I’ve got my headphones on so I can’t hear the rude blacks next door on their daily banging spree. They do this mainly around lunchtime and dinnertime.

The time passes way too slowly here. I get bored a lot, and last night I was bored to the point of depression. I worry about if the book-writing doesn’t work out. God, I hope it does, cuz I’ll spend my years dying of sheer boredom after the house is all set up if I don’t have something consistent to do besides my hobbies. No, I still don’t want a kid. I don’t want to be run ragged either and have no life at all.

Yesterday we checked out some shops and found a lot of Indian dolls. The most impressive doll of all who looked a lot like Chyna was $1,200. They had a few adult Indian dolls that were pretty nice and that weren’t too expensive and some baby ones. At first I wasn’t impressed with the baby ones, but then they grew on me. They’re different, and I may get a couple, but not there cuz we can find them cheaper in other places.

I almost bought a $200 redheaded doll that was about 28”, but her outfit was a little too conservative and dull, and one of her eyelashes was screwed up. She just didn’t quite speak to me, although I do hope to have a redhead someday to add to the variety. Tom liked her face, though she didn’t look real at all. I was surprised at how lightweight she was. She had less porcelain than Ciara does.

We also stopped at Denny’s and I got a delicious steak and egg dinner. On our way out, Tom almost won me a stuffed animal. They have these glass cages with stuffed animals, and you get 30 seconds to try to grab one with a claw.

It’s funny, but I find myself wondering about that Mexican girl named Linda who wanted me really bad and whom I had met at the first club I ever danced at. I was living next to Andy and the butch at the Vista at the time, and never had I had a woman pursue me like she did! I had always fantasized about a woman chasing me like that too, but she just scared the shit out of me. I remember other dancers saying she looked hard-core, and she even came in with a few guys. She was extremely persistent, that’s for sure. What I wonder is - just what would have really happened if I’d let her come to my place? Would it have been fun? Or would it have been a nightmare? She just seemed so male, so that’s what scared me. I immediately got the feeling she could be violent or into rough sex, so I followed my gut and never met with her. I’ll still always wonder for the rest of my life if my gut instinct was right about her or not, but I’m sure it was.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 28, 1999 Tom’s taking a little nap now, then we’ll be heading out to do some errands. He got the almost $21,000 check today from the house. Speaking of which, we were there yesterday. The house is completely empty save for a little bit of trash on the back patio and some hazardous waste materials in the garage. We didn’t do any more cleaning or vacuuming, either. He let their realtor know of this and he came and got the keys, saying something about the H's having till November 1st to move in. Tom questioned if he heard wrong and he really said October 1st, but it sounds like they’re gonna recarpet and maybe remodel too, before they move in. We know they can afford to. We’ll have to go by there a few years from now and see what it looks like.

Every single piece of furniture he put in the alley, including an old microfiche, was taken. Someone that knew we were moving was no doubt waiting around to see what they could get. I think most of the stuff ended up with the Mexicans, but according to Tom, they may not have been the ones to swipe the couch. I thought he had said he had it up against the block wall in the alley, but he had it by the garage on W. Weldon, and as he pointed out - they never drive by that way. They always go down N. 21 Ave. Well, it’s nice that someone, be it those assholes or not, could use the stuff.

It sure was nice seeing all the rooms empty and echoing. All the wonderful and shitty memories that place holds! Still, that house doesn’t come close to the kinds of shitty memories places back east I’ve lived in hold for me. The worst thing I really had to go through in that house was wanting the kid I couldn’t have, and the sexual games and frustrations, but that’s nothing compared to what I’ve had to endure back east. Besides, I don’t even want a baby anymore, and sex is a very low priority for me and I couldn’t really care less about what happens in bed these days. I’m bored by it all lately.

There was a makeup sample in the front door which I took, containing some foundation and some lipstick. I need to get some kind of a liquid foundation to give myself a smoother complexion. My skin’s so blotchy and because I’m so white, you can see ugly-looking veins in my face.

They disconnected the phone yesterday, but the electricity was still on when we were over there, so I hope they’ve shut that off by now.

We got a cell phone the other day.

Speaking of phones, damn are Larry, Tammy, Dureen and Art going to have huge phone bills on Thursday! That’s when Larry, Dureen and Art should receive their mail, and you know they’ll run and call each other about it. Tammy won’t actually get her mail till we get around to sending the manila envelopes out, which he’s making me wait on. Yes, he’s busy, but I still know how much he likes to make me wait on things.

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 26, 1999 Yesterday my allergies were going off for hours and I thought I had a touch of a cold. I still felt like a cold was just starting when I awoke, but my body quickly rejected it. It’s like I’ve become the opposite of how I was in Springfield. Instead of always being sick, I hardly ever get sick.

Last night I only woke up twice. Once cuz I was thirsty, and then just because. But when I got up at 7:30, I didn’t feel well-rested at all. In fact, I laid down for a couple more hours and almost fell back asleep.

Tom says he thinks my alarm may’ve woken up next door, cuz as soon as the alarm went off, he heard water running. I don’t give a shit if it did, but water has been running all day, and downstairs has been banging around since I’ve been up. Someone’s been running water for a minute or so every few minutes. What could someone want with so much water? I can’t always tell which direction sounds are coming from, but so far, it seems I’ve heard downstairs mostly. And maybe a little bit on the bedroom side, but not the blacks on the living room side yet.

After Tom went to dump our trash, he said there were only two machines in the laundry room. That sucks. We’ll be going to a Laundromat for sure, cuz those two machines will no doubt always be in use. He also said they were painting again. On a Sunday?! Well, I haven’t heard them. Except for people bopping around in the building, I haven’t heard any outdoor noise yet.

At around 11:00, an hour after Tom headed for the Phoenix house, I went to the pool. The water looked fine and it wasn’t as cold as I thought it’d be. There was a very nice woman with a 5-year-old girl and girl/boy twins at 3 years of age. She really seemed like one of those rare kinds that we need more of. She was polite and seemed to be a great mother. She doesn’t let her kids go off on wild tangents. She’d discipline them and tell them not to splash when they’d start splashing. She’d tell them to quiet down too, when they got too loud. It’s nice to see considerate people for a change.

I was there for about ten minutes and we basically talked about the apartments. She and her family will be here for a week. They’re on the first floor, she says, cuz the kids would drive anyone that was below them crazy. Again, it’s nice to know there are some parents out there who consider things like this. These walls are really no different than what you’d find for interior walls in a house, and they’re really no different than the Vista and Crystal Creek. I knew the guy was full of shit when he said they were close to soundproof. They’re not even close.

Our old couch is already gone. He called from the house saying he had gotten it up against the block wall in the alley and by the time he returned with something else, it was already gone. I told him not to worry about overcrowding the alley, cuz virtually everything will be gone in no time. He says he doubts it, but I think the Mexicans took it. If they really do know we’re moving then they’re probably watching to see what they can get. You know they don’t want to work for and earn anything. Also, judging by the speed it was gone and by the fact that at least two people had to be nearby to whisk it away that fast, I’d say it was them. Lastly, I didn’t see any couch in their living room when I was at their door bitching about those two little cocks in the white car the day we talked. It’s kind of a funny thought. I mean, do they know just how many conversations I’ve had about them while on that couch? If only they knew!

It’s subsided for now, but the banging had really picked up for a few minutes there, but due to my position in the apartment, I couldn’t say for sure if it was downstairs or the blacks.

Later…

How weird! Someone’s been running water for about ten seconds to a minute every two minutes. They’ve been doing this for hours. What would someone need with all that water?

There’s still a fairly regular stream of banging and most of it is definitely downstairs. I had gotten a vision of just a guy being down there, but that can’t be the case. Most normal adults wouldn’t make that much noise, except for those deliberately trying to make their neighbors’ lives hell. There’s got to be kids down there making all that racket.

The question is - will these people go to school/work starting tomorrow? Somehow I doubt it. I think most of these kids surrounding our apartment are too young for that and they, or someone, will be home all day bopping around. Anyone below or next to us will be home, I’m sure. God will see to it. As long as I can keep my schedule and it stays quiet at night.

I think I forgot to mention this, but about a week ago Andy got fired. Hey, what a surprise, huh? First he said he lost his job, then he said he didn’t like it. What really happened was that he made them fire him. He’s one hell of a fire freak, that’s for sure! What’s he gonna do when he’s too old to work? I mean, he’s not gonna have shit pension-wise, and since God doesn’t love him as much as he thinks he does, he’s gonna really be in for a surprise when he sees that his so-called buddy God doesn’t take care of him in ways he expects him to.

Later…

The banging has gotten to be less steady. It’s now down to coming in spurts.

I guess Tom will be home soon. I hope so, cuz we still have to go to the grocery store and he has to work tonight.

For now, I’m pretty damn bored and I don’t think I can concentrate on reading or working on my story. I may not get to those things until we get to the house.

I do intend to work on Giselle when she gets here to make her look different from Liselle. I might add beads to the skirt of her dress.

No more calls from Dureen. I’m not surprised. The idea was for me to see the number and decide whether or not to return the call. Well, that decision was made over a year ago. What happened in the past is done and over with and it’s in the past. I just want it to stay that way and not let history repeat itself.

Later…

Tom just called again saying it’d be another couple of hours and that he wasn’t gonna clean. That’s fine, cuz I think I cleaned the place well enough. If they want it any cleaner, let them do it.

Meanwhile, things are a little quieter around here, but I’m so fucking bored! I could go to the pool, but that’s boring.

Later…

I wish Tom would get in! He has to work tonight and I’m really worried about him. He played hooky both Wednesday and Thursday nights last week, but there are only so many days he can afford to do that. Luckily, though, he has vacation time coming up. A week off just doesn’t seem like enough to get shit done, though. He needs a few months off!

Tomorrow he has to sign the closing papers and take me to Mel’s. I hope he’ll be alright, but with the looks of it, it doesn’t look like he’ll be able to catch up on his sleep till Tuesday.

Blackie and whitey are out front playing football again this evening.

Downstairs shut up for a couple of hours, then decided it was time to start up with the banging again just as I had settled down to read, so I turned the fan on. The fact that most of the downstairs noise is coming from the bedroom also tells me there are kids down there. Wouldn’t an adult hang out in the living room? I think there have been kids playing down there all day and that the bed’s headboard is what’s banging against the wall. Some of the sounds are probably the kids banging dresser drawers, closet drawers, and God knows what else. I’m surprised I don’t hear any voices.

Except for a couple of loud car stereos, outside’s been pretty quiet today, but I’ll bet it’ll be quite hectic out there tomorrow with landscapers. I hated that at the other apartments! All in all, noise-wise this place is between the NHA and the two complexes I lived at in Phoenix.

I wonder if Sundays are the main check-out day or if people check out all different days of the week?

I was glad to have my mattress pad back last night, cuz this bed’s hard as a rock.

Food smells from people cooking nearby really seep in here well. I hate food smells, pleasant or not. All they do is make me hungry.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 25, 1999 The Siesta Suites…

Talk about having a ton of writing to catch up on! It may not be easy, though, cuz right now the apartment’s as noisy as I predicted it’d be. Let me back up and go in order of events first before I get to the current stuff.

We spent most of Wednesday and Thursday loading up the crate. The 40-something-year-old cock with the gold car came in as we were having the crate delivered, accompanied by some bitch. I don’t think it was Deb, though. The hair looked too light. Maybe it was Fanny or someone else I’ve never seen before.

Goodwill won’t take our old furniture. They won’t take anything old or broken. That’s ridiculous! I mean, what do you expect for hand-me-outs? Brand new stuff? I don’t think so!

Late afternoon on Wednesday we stopped at Wal-Mart before going to Steven’s. I got a $16, 17”, blue-eyed, blond-haired doll. Her hair is really long, too. Nearly to her ankles. It’s straight. She wears a deep purple dress with white lace. I can’t believe she and Ashley cost about $30 while Anne and Edie cost nearly $80! Anne and Edie aren’t quite as nice either, and they’re the same size. Anyway, I put her in the box she came in, along with Angel. There was room to squeeze her in there too, and I’m gonna store both of them. The only dolls I have here are Bailey, Maria, Rapunzel, Patrice, and Summer Dream.

I named Meagan myself cuz she didn’t come with a name. In her box was a card asking for doll info which I filled out. They asked what I named the doll, how many dolls I had, where I got them, what my favorite hair and eye color were, etc.

When I was doing Bailey’s hair, which had gotten all messed up, her rubber bands crumbled to pieces, so I just left her hair down but saved her ribbons.

I’m hoping to order Sekarina and Chyna, or at least just Chyna if they still don’t have Sekarina, next Thursday. That’s about when we should know more about what’s going on with the house and what the money situation will be like.

I discovered a doll store nearby where we are right now in Scottsdale, which I sometimes call Snottsdale, and I may check it out. I figured that I’d first try to get Sekarina, Chyna, and Marisa, then check out stores, then raid Ashton-Drake with any leftover money.

Later…

After I got Meagan, we went to Steven’s, and what a house! It’s beautiful! Very different from what we’re getting. It’d be perfect for me if I was single, but again, the houses were just too damn close. You could hear his neighbor’s dogs, people shouting on the street, etc. The house was cool looking, though, and very modern. I loved the plush champagne pink carpet and decided to get that instead of the sculptured spice carpet, which was nice, but quite dark. This carpet’s more expensive, but it’s better and just so gorgeous. Just what I always envisioned color-wise.

It gets even better, though. He had one of those trees that’s about 6’ tall with beautiful pink flowers that I’ve always wanted. Well, he saved me over $100 of decoration expenses cuz he gave it to me!!! I couldn’t believe I got my dream flower tree for free! He gave it to me saying his kittens tear it up.

I was right about suspecting he’s gay. Hilda, his assistant, is at least 50 years old, but Tommy, the guy living there and helping him with his work, was definitely his boyfriend. So, between that, the pink carpet, and the pink flower tree, it was more than obvious.

Anyway, we have to go back to his house again, cuz he needs to find prices on some of the options, like my wanting to get two linen cabinets instead of two sinks in the master bath. This isn’t a regular option, so it’ll take some checking into.

Yesterday’s packing last-minute things, making trips over here, and fighting with traffic was very stressful. We were both pretty tense, and I nearly beat the shit out of a cock for pulling out and hitting us in Jack-n-the-Box’s parking lot. He barely tapped us, though, and the car was fine, but boy is that cock lucky! I was so close to just jumping out of the car and totally attacking him.

So, after we made two trips over here, we called it quits (the first trip here he forgot how to get here, and I of all people, was the one who remembered the streets and guided him, believe it or not!). They’re not picking up the crate till Monday, so he’s over there now finishing the packing of the crate and hauling out old furniture to the alley. We’re surprised we don’t have a scheduled walk-through. I mean, doesn’t he have to give them the keys on Monday?

I was going to mail the letters that are in regular envelopes myself by bringing them to the office, but instead of doing that today, I’m going to do it Monday. I want to make sure that house is legally out of our hands first and that the phone’s disconnected like it’s supposed to be on Monday. I once received mail on a Monday that had been mailed out from the east on a Saturday. That’s why I don’t want to mail anything out today. There’s always that slight chance they could get their mail Monday and contact us about it if there’s any delay with the phone and the house. I’ll have five envelopes and two postcards. One of the postcards is the first of two tests I’m going to do to see how well the forwarding works. I addressed this postcard to Tom to see if it gets to the PO Box in Tempe we opened up with no problems. Then, just shy of a year from moving, I’ll send another card to see if he gets it. The other postcard will be to Larry. There’ll be two envelopes to Dureen and Art, and two to the city giving them the final piece of my mind on lazy bums like next door and the ones before it. I’m using two different city addresses. Also, there’ll be an envelope with my final thoughts on the collies and their barking I had to listen to pretty damn consistently for six years. It’s over, though! It’s finally over! Never again will I have to hear those beasts!

I will have six manila envelopes - two for the black bitch, one for the Mexicans, then one for Tammy, Larry, and Andy.

Later…

It is extremely noisy here just as I knew it’d be, but so far, it seems to only be during the daytime. I did, believe it or not, sleep from 11 PM-7:30 AM. I woke up a few times, but it was just because. Not due to noise. Not yet, anyway. There’s definitely no way I could sleep during the day here. It’s just too noisy, and thank God I changed my wake-up time from 8:30 to 7:30, cuz at about 8:00 is when all the banging, slamming, and outside work starts. Last night, all we heard were a few subtle bangs from below, next door, or wherever, but nothing major.

I was right on another thing too - there are blacks next door to me. What else is new, huh? I’m a magnet for them. However, this girl, who was sitting out front when I came up here, seemed much nicer than a certain bitch I used to know once upon a time in Phoenix. She smiled at me and I smiled back.

I’m glad the people at the end of this strip on the bottom aren’t next to us. Huge Mexican family.

Tom, who got up before me, said it was a ghost town, but right after he left, they were making quite a racket when painting the back wall of the building. There are single-paned windows here too, so you can imagine just how well I could hear the clanking of their ladders, their shouting to one another, and the music they were blaring. They nearly smashed the kitchen window when they were covering it to paint around it. I couldn’t believe management would allow such noise and chaos around here early on a Saturday, but then again I can. It’s quiet here, my ass! I knew that cock was full of shit! Maybe it is, though. When I’m not here. If they’re doing all this shit on a Saturday, I hate to see what the regular work week will be like!

Then, after about an hour of listening to them paint, a tremendously loud car stereo rocked the building, but I couldn’t say if it was driving by the complex or if it lived here.

Then the blacks next door got into a fight. At first I thought they were laughing their asses off about something, and I could be wrong, but I think they may’ve been arguing instead, and I could hear shit being slammed and thrown. I’m not sure how many people are next door or who or what they are, but according to Tom, a black woman was babysitting the white boy next door last week when we checked the place out. I only saw the boy, not the black. I have no idea yet what’s on the other side of us or what’s down below us and I don’t care as long as they leave me alone.

Then I heard a sound that I thought was a lawnmower. Then I thought it was next door getting their place vacuumed, but then I said - wait a minute. No vacuum’s that loud, and why all the banging and slamming just to vacuum? So then I heard knocking and I opened the front door to find some cock sanding and hammering the railing in preparation to paint it. Meanwhile, the railing looked fine. It doesn’t even need to be painted.

What is it with Arizona apartments always having to have some big project going on, huh? If it isn’t one thing, it’s another. They’ve always got to have something going on. As soon as they finish painting, they’ll start some other loud, long, major project. I’m sure they’ll be up on the roof next.

Later…

Tom called from the house. He said everything won’t fit in the crate. I told him so. So, he’s getting a mini storage thing also.

He’s gonna haul out the old furniture to the back of the garage and put a “free” sign on it, which I hope won’t be all the more obvious of a sign to the local bums that the house is vacant. If he has any trouble hauling it, he’ll have me go back with him tomorrow to help.

As fate would have it, and it fucking figures too, and I just knew this would happen within days of moving, Dureen called looking for sympathy. She never left a message, though. This just goes to show just how desperate she is to get me back into the same old vicious cycle I went through with her and her associates for 32 years. Well, it’s not gonna happen. They’ll get my letters, then some pictures of Tom, the animals, dolls, and the new house, and that’s it. There’s also one picture of me before and after cutting my hair.

This is the second time she’s called to leave their number for show, hoping I’d be dumb enough to be snared into her trap again. It’s only been four months since her last call, too. I suppose Tammy’s gonna try next. God, just have her wait two more days! Just two more days!

Also, Tom says that they’ll paint everything, whether it needs it or not, cuz there’s no sense in them hiring painters to do the building, then come back and do the railings a few months later. Whatever. All I know is that it’s gonna be one thing after another here, and I’m really damn lucky I finally figured out how to keep a schedule. Thank you, God, for that much! I just hope nothing fucks it up.

Monday, I’m going to send the message I’ve been planning to send Marla, explaining why I felt it was best to walk away from Andy.

I also decided to go ahead, after all, and end my ties with Kim simply because there’s nothing we can really offer each other. She can’t go anywhere alone. She has to bring her current boyfriend out to visit, her friend, and her friend’s friend too, and I don’t need it or want it. I’d want to visit with her. Not her and three other people I don’t even know. I also don’t have any intentions of ever going back to where she is, so what’s the use of being friends? There’s really no point and I can’t be much of a friend to her or offer her much of anything.

I like how the computer’s set up so I can go online without having to string wires. There’s no switchboard here either, by the way. We have a regular number here.

Later…

They’re still painting the railings, but at least it’s not as loud as the sanding was. I wonder how many more days of this painting shit there’ll be. Well, it doesn’t matter. As soon as this is done, it’s off to something else.

I took pictures of the apartment, which I’ll get into describing after I give my back a break. It aches like hell.

Later…

Still a steady stream of bumps and bangs throughout the building. I don’t think it’s all coming from the painters. In fact, they may be done for the day. It’s coming from the surrounding apartments. A black kid and a white kid were screaming outside the door for a few minutes playing, and I’m sure kids will be zipping up and down the patio on and off while we’re here.

Earlier I brewed tea in their coffeemaker, and now I’m making a TV dinner in their little wimpy microwave. Haven’t used their toaster yet.

Later…

We’re scheduled for maid service on 10/6. I’ll hide the dolls in the closet at that time, cuz you just never do know. And all my dolls will be here then, except for maybe Ciara. Tom’s bringing them over. It’ll be nice to have them here.

In our second phone call, I told him about my feelings about having the house look too obviously vacant to everyone in Phoenix if he put the “free” sign out by the furniture, which he agreed to. He says he’s got the furniture pretty much gathered up in back, so tomorrow he can just drag it to the alley. That’s where I said it should go all along, and I tell you, it’ll be gone in no time. If the freeloaders don’t help themselves, someone else will.

The layout of this apartment is nice, but the noise and some other things aren’t worth its cost.

The carpet is really dumpy and is as hard as concrete. Thank God for my exercise mat or else I wouldn’t be able to sit in the yoga-style position I like to sit in when listening to music. It’s a brownish color in the living room and a dark blue-gray color in the bedroom.

The white, porcelain sinks are peeling, and the tub’s got brown water stains on it. The water itself was brown for the first minute I had it on to shower with. Also, some of the white towels are stained, and the bathroom’s only outlet is way up where the lights are. So, we’ve got the toothbrushes charging in the kitchen. Still, the bathroom’s way nicer than what we had in Phoenix.

I was surprised to find a comforter on the bed, rather than a regular blanket.

The bathroom, little hallway, and kitchen have vinyl flooring with squares of whites, light grays, and light blues.

There’s a pink and white curtain in the frosted bathroom window, horizontal blinds in the kitchen, and dark teal drapes in the bedroom and living room windows. The living room window’s huge. It’s about 8’ wide and goes from the floor to the ceiling. I keep the drapes drawn, though, cuz it helps a little bit with sound, and it blocks too much sun and light from coming in here. I also like my privacy and don’t care to see the constant stream of people walking by.

The exterior walls and walls in between apartments are of brick and the rest is a regular smooth wall. Everything that’s not part of the floor, carpet, or drapes is white. The walls are white, the counters and cabinets are white, and so are the appliances. But it’s bright and cheerful compared to the dull browns, golds, and oranges in Phoenix.

At night the bedroom is so lit up due to the light outside that I can almost read my CD titles.

So they say that their animal policy is that you have to remove any noisy animal within two hours, and if you don’t, you’re immediately evicted, but I don’t buy it. I’m sure people with barking dogs could get away with it for a while and that it’d take several people complaining before any action was taken.

According to their inventory list, the linens consist of 3 bath towels, 2 hand towels, 3 washcloths, 2 pillowcases, 1 bottom sheet per bed (I don’t know if the hide-away bed in the couch is made up), 1 top sheet per bed, 1 kitchen towel, 2 rolls toilet paper (only provided during a maid service).

Also, 1 saucepan, 1 frying pan, 4 plates, 4 coffee cups, 4 saucers, 4 cereal bowls, 4 water glasses, 4 juice glasses, 4 forks, 4 knives, 4 spoons, 1 cutting knife, 1 large spoon, 1 spatula, 1 can opener, 1 dish rack, 1 mixing bowl, 1 shower curtain, 1 bathroom curtain, 1 dustpan, 1 broom, 2 ice cube trays, 2 garbage cans, 2 pillows, 1 mattress pad per bed, 1 blanket per bed, 1 bedspread per bed. These last two make no sense. They don’t give you a blanket and a bedspread, you get a fitted sheet, a cover sheet, and a comforter. Also, there’s 1 ice cube tray, not 2.

Lastly, you get 1 TV, 1 cable box, 1 remote control, 1 microwave, 1 coffeemaker, 1 toaster, and 1 refrigerator/freezer.

I’ve finally managed to write just over four pages during all the commotion today, and now I’m fighting to stay awake. I had a bad allergy attack, so I had to take Benadryl.

Later…

I’m still pretty groggy, but managing to stay awake.

The thing I like about the layout is that the kitchen is further away from the bedroom, and the bedrooms are back to back. Meaning, to each side of every bedroom, is your living room and someone else’s bedroom. If someone’s kitchen was behind the bedroom wall, then all the bumps and banging of cabinets and shit like that would be much louder. It’s definitely louder in the living room/kitchen side of the apartment, versus the bedroom/bath side. I also like how you can’t see into the living room from the bedroom. In Phoenix, I felt like the living room and bedroom were almost connected.

I like the storage in here. There’s not only a good-sized closet in the bedroom, but a walk-in closet, plus a little closet with shelves in between the kitchen and bathroom.

There’s a big square pillar-like thing with a couple of cabinets in it by the eating counter where the computer is. The shorter cabinet up top has phonebooks in it, and the longer one below it has a broom and a dustpan. This is where I’m storing our boxes.

Due to the extra counter space in the bathroom, and not needing all the bath stuff in such a short time, I only put things on the counter, the two cabinets below the sink, and one of the four little drawers.

There’s a full-length mirror on the bathroom and bedroom doors, as well as a large one over the bedroom dresser.

For furniture, there’s a long dresser in the bedroom with two chairs on the ends and a lamp on this dresser. There are two little wall lamps above the bed and one night table (the lamps have fluorescent bulbs). There are three chairs and a stool in the living room and three small tables. One’s at either side of the couch and one’s in front of it. There’s also a computer desk, which the TV’s on.

While we’re here, we’ll both be using my computer. We didn’t bring the scanner.

Tom wanted some type of countdown for the month we paid for here, so I made a screensaver countdown. I can’t believe we paid so much money for all this banging! This is almost as bad as the NHA, but that’s apartment living in Arizona for you. So, we have at least 29 days to bump and bang here, then we’ll go do it somewhere else, stay here, or pitch a tent or a trailer on the land. Come October 7th, it’s ours to do what we want.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 21, 1999 At Tom’s suggestion, I took today off as far as getting up when the alarm went off and I got caught up on my sleep. I would’ve been fine if I’d stayed asleep last night the first time I fell asleep. I did fall asleep earlier, at 8:00, but then I woke up to pee at 10:30, was tight, and couldn’t get back to sleep till 1:00. Anyway, I was so tired that I slept straight through from 1:00 to 11:45 this morning.

I’ve been a little tight due to the mix of emotions. I’m psyched to get out of here, but I’m nervous about the apartment, hotel, whatever you want to call it. He says it won’t be noisy, but I know better. It’ll be noisy when I get there, just because I’m there. I got my new inhaler, which is called Flovent and is supposed to be just like Vanceril, so that should kick in soon.

He got the PO Box today.

Tomorrow, they’re gonna be doing a termite inspection at 9:00, so I’ll be wicked tired tomorrow. I won’t get to sleep till 4:00-6:00 and will have to get up at 8:00. Tom said he’d get me up with a doggie mug (a regular cup of caffeine coffee). How sweet.

I went online to check out that JBS dolls store. The one that’s really a distributor in Kingman and not a store in Phoenix. They should be opening the doll store they said was to open in Mesa in about ten days. I found one site and it started by loading a picture of a gorgeous Indian doll, but then it’d crash. It fucking figures, too. I have such shit doll luck! I’m still not sure if I’m gonna get dolls from stores, online, from the home shopping channel, or from Ashton-Drake. They may still not have Sekarina on the home shopping channel, and who knows when Marisa, the doll I found online, will be back in stock again. There’s a New Jersey number we can call to try to find out.

I really believe, though, that something’s trying to tell me - no, you cannot get a doll from a store this time around. First the mall store changed for the worse, then the wild goose chase, and now I can’t get into this site. And this JBS doll store is totally me. So, I’m just gonna call it quits as far as store-bought dolls go, and just order the 5 Ashton-Drake dolls I’ve picked out, and Chyna, and hope I can get Sekarina and Marisa, too.

I changed my mail controls so anyone can email me, and I emailed the people handling Marisa and asked if they could tell me when she’ll be back in stock.

Later…

That was fast! I was told they couldn’t anticipate when they’ll start deliveries again, cuz they’re moving their warehouse. It fucking figures! So now I can’t get Marisa either, cuz if she doesn’t know when they’ll be delivering again, it’s not going to be for a long time. Shit! Now I may not be able to get the top two dolls I picked out.

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 20, 1999 Tom’s cleaning the garage out some more and blowing old oil gravel out with the blower. Yesterday, we were talking about my singing in the apartment, and Mr. Paranoid was telling me how people in Arizona tend to be noisier the noisier you are. Well, that hasn’t been my experience. Who was being noisy for that little boy to be so noisy? What kind of noise did I dish out to the NHA, to the mad butch at the Vista, to the blacks, and to the Mexicans, to deserve the noise they threw at me? Sorry, but noisy people don’t need excuses. If they’re gonna be noisy, they’re gonna be noisy no matter what. Anyway, no one’s ever complained yet about my singing, and I’ll tell you one thing for sure - I don’t care. The people out here never cared about their noise, so I don’t care about mine. Until and if I get a complaint about my singing, I shall go about my business as usual. Naturally, I’ll use common sense, though, and I won’t go singing late at night. As for my stereo - I’ll be using headphones for the most part like I do anyway, so there’ll be no problem there. I was pretty tired yesterday so I took a nap after we came home. It’s been easier to take naps lately, but maybe that’s because I don’t sleep till I’ve had enough sleep and I wake up on my own anymore. I’ve been getting up, tired or not. It’s been a little harder getting up today and yesterday, but tonight, hopefully I’ll fall asleep earlier and catch up.

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 19, 1999 We’re coming to the end of our final weekend in Phoenix!!!

I’ve even decided to bring to an end the freeloader file and seal up their envelope. I’m also gonna chance that Andy won’t be coming over demanding his phone message tape for any reason and I’m gonna seal his envelope up, too.

The weekend was quiet. All I heard was a few bouts of some guys yelling about some shit or another next door last night, but I turned the fan on and tuned them right out of my night. Also, there were a few bouts of kids screaming, too. No music, though, so they were tolerable.

On Friday there was a navy and white striped pickup with rails just like what the cream pickup has. It was just loading a ladder onto its rails when I stepped up to the window. Why they’d need a ladder when they’ve got the city and their ladders at their beck and call beats me. That day, Deb was wearing a white shirt and black shorts and she had that ridiculous poodle pom-pom. She also had what may’ve been a baby bag with red straps and Winnie the Pooh on it. The girl that cut her hair had on blue shorts and a blue striped shirt. Lady butch was out running around today in the yard and in the street with an adult female, the black girl she’s buddies with that lives nearby, and a couple of other fellow kids.

The red car was here last night, and earlier at around 5 PM, the blue pickup was here. I saw Deb leave with two guys in the back of it. Inside it was 2-3 people. Deb was wearing all black, and this time, instead of her pom-pom, she had her hair in a ponytail that fell to the middle of her back. She looked more Mexican than I’d ever seen her look before.

Today, the blue pickup was over from around 3 PM-4 PM, and so was the gold car. Deb’s parents' gold car, I believe.

They’ve done everything I’ve predicted they’d do so far except getting a dog. The company’s coming earlier now that it’s cooling down and they’re no longer hanging outside during the dark hours.

Lastly, the van moved. I haven’t seen anyone driving it, but it’s no longer deep in the carport. It’s just inside it.

Later…

The manufacturers have suddenly decided to stop making Vanceril, the preventative inhaler I use, so tomorrow he’s gonna fight with Dr. Brown’s office to get something else. I hope to hell Tom’s right when he says he thinks I’ll be 90% better once we leave the valley, and maybe I can just go without these damn inhalers, cuz I’m sick of there being a problem getting them every other time I call for them.

We made reservations to stay in an apartment in Mesa. They’re short-term rentals that are just like hotels, only you get a kitchen, a bedroom, and a little more space. However, we’re going to cancel the reservations, cuz when Tom called back and asked about pets after he forgot to in the first place, they said no pets allowed.

Tom looked at other places by himself that he thought were too dumpy, then today, we went together to the Siesta Suites in Scottsdale.

They consist of two two-story little strips - one’s studios, the other’s 1-bedrooms. There’s a pool in between the ends of the strips. No Jacuzzi. Tom said he’d prefer it if I went to the pool with him at first and not by myself cuz it didn’t look too healthy. Well, I always prefer to swim with him than alone, but why do I get the feeling he’s just worried I’ll have a problem with someone? I don’t need a babysitter if I’m right about his motives, and there’ll be no problems with people unless they make problems. And like I told paranoid Tom, who’s worried about me going off on someone there, if someone makes trouble, I’ll call the office. It won’t do me a damn bit of good, but I’ll start with that, and I’ll tell you something else for damn sure - if I ever “go off” on someone again in my life, it won’t be with words.

Yes, it is going to be noisy, even though Tom doesn’t think so. I know my construction when it comes to apartments in Arizona, and there’s a little kid next door to where we’ll be on the second floor. Tom questioned my taking a room right by it, but I can just fan out its screaming. It’s people’s movements within the building and car stereos that will be the biggest noise source. And I know God and my shit luck. Even if the rooms next to us were empty, God would make sure little kids and other noisy people were right next to us. I always get the noisy people no matter where I go, so what the hell? Why try to fight an inevitable fate? It’s the same shit wherever I go. I asked the guy (Chris) if he’d be honest with me if I asked about noise complaints and he said that it’s a brick and concrete structure which isn’t soundproof, but pretty doggone close. In fact, one of the biggest compliments he gets is how quiet it is there. Yeah, right! I should’ve known better than to ask, but even if it is quiet for others, you know it won’t be for me. God just has to sic noise on me wherever I go! Tom was like - but it’s the middle of a Sunday afternoon and no one is out at the pool. Yeah, but I wasn’t there yet. I’m a magnet for noise and once I get there, there’ll be more than a screaming kid out on its front patio playing. Tom said he thinks he’s old enough to be in school. No, he’ll be home all day. Even if he wasn’t, just an hour of feeling the vibration of his footsteps running back and forth, and other people’s footsteps, cabinets, and doors, will be rough enough, but it’s worth it. At least the doors aren’t right smack next to each other like the studio doors were at the Vista. The only thing I wish was that the bedroom was in the back, but that seems to be how it is in most cases. They put the bedroom in the front. At least a car can’t get closer than about 20’-30’ to the windows, rather than 3’.

The guy said there’s concrete between the floors. That’s what Crystal Creek told me, but look how well I could hear those below me and how well they could hear me. Steve, the warped security guard there, told me he could hear every key I’d hit on my electric typewriter.

At least this time around I’ve got things to help me get through this upcoming noisy ordeal that I didn’t have before - a great guy like Tom, the fan, the cordless headphones, the sound machine, the fact that it won’t be longer than a few months, and the fact that I can keep a schedule!

The place is square-shaped, and it’s about 450-500 square feet. Their pictures online made it look bigger than it really is. I’ll be able to give better detail once I’m there, but it has one door opening into the living room that has a hideaway bed in the couch, and a mini entertainment center. The kitchen has a bar area with a stool for eating at, and it’s stocked with the bare necessities. It even has a toaster and a coffeemaker. There’s no dishwasher, but at least I can have the animals. It has a big walk-in closet, a little closet of shelves, the bedroom has a long dresser and night tables, and a nicer bathroom than what we’ve got here cuz it has some counter space. The bedroom had two twin beds in it, but he said it’s one of those adjustable things that can be made into a king-size bed, which is what we told him to do.

They have free maid service every week, and we forgot to ask where the laundry room was.

Later…

I was wrong about saying the bedrooms were in front. I lost my bearings in my mind but Tom reminded me that the parking lot is in back by the kitchen and bath. There’s nothing but a strip of grass and a street on the bedroom and living room side. And patios for kids to play and scream on. I’m sure that little boy will be running up and down the thing making the building feel like an earthquake is shaking it. Meanwhile, the mother won’t do shit about it and discipline it, and if that kid leaves while we’re there, something else will rock the building.

At least there are plenty of outlets for being an older place. Scottsdale is an older town, but when I say something out here’s older, it’s pretty damn young compared to something older in New England.

I decided to take only my 6 most favorite dolls and to store the other 12. I’m taking Bailey, Maria, Patrice, Summer Dream, Rapunzel, and Angel. This way, there’s room for any dolls I may get while I’m there.

I don’t remember if the carpet’s plush or that indoor/outdoor kind like I had in Deerfield. I hope it’s plush.

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 16, 1999 Andy just doesn’t get me. I mean, he’s totally clueless! Thank God we’ll only be here for one more week, cuz he’s getting to me again. I’m not pissed, but I am annoyed. I’m gonna remember these times whenever I may feel guilty about disappearing from his life.

He never mentioned Linda in his latest message, but he did excitedly tell me about this new temp job he got as a receptionist and how much he hopes it’ll be a permanent thing (till he makes sure he gets fired). At this point, I said to myself, here comes the God shit I’m so sick of hearing over and over and over. Sure enough, he did go right into God and how much he’s come through for him this year. Then he says not to be mad at God for answering his prayers, and I’m like - what?! God’s answering someone’s prayers never made me mad. All I ever told Andy was that I felt he gave God way too much credit and that God’s mostly mean and vengeful, not loving. To me, he’s insensitive, with not much compassion. Especially when it comes to women. He seems to not care about their hardships and their emotions. He seems to inflict more pain and punishment than not. God may answer a few of Andy’s prayers but look at him and his life in general. He’s still alone, and the main reason he’s alone is cuz of God. So, I get embarrassed for him when he degrades himself by overpraising God. That’s just like a woman or a man boasting about how great their spouse is when in the midst of their being great, they’re also beating the snot out of them. It’s like - wake up, Andy! God’s not all you think he is! If he was, you wouldn’t be where you are today and neither would most people. Yes, I’m truly blessed compared to your average human being, and yes, I’m glad I can’t have a kid and don’t know why I ever wanted one in the first place, but still, God took away my choice and my right to choose, as a woman, whether or not I have a kid, and I’ll never forgive him for that.

Later…

I did it again. I was getting short on sleep, so I was able to fall asleep last night at around 11:00 instead of 1:00-1:30, and I got up just before 8:00 rather than just after 9:00.

I’m glad we’re moving, cuz this new mailman we’ve got isn’t much better than the other one. I’d hang my letters to the mailbox flap with a clothespin. Well, this dude would yank the letter and clothespin off and not have the decency to put the clothespin back, the rude little shit. Tom rarely mails anything from here cuz when he does mail stuff, it’s usually bills, and it’s safer to drop those in a regular mailbox. It’ll be different at the house cuz we’ll have a regular mailbox at the end of the driveway where you put the flag up when you have outgoing mail.

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 15, 1999 Tom called about the storage crates today. Instead of getting a couple of crates, we’re gonna get one huge 8x20 crate that’s 8’ 6” high. It’s weather-tight and will be stored in a place with good security. It’ll be here next Wednesday morning. I moved most of the boxes out of the bedrooms and into the living room so that’s a few fewer steps he has to take when it comes time for him to load up the crate.

We’re getting a furnished apartment, and we were talking about getting one with maids to spoil us for a few months, but we’ll see. They’re still all going to be noisy, but I hope I can at least have a dishwasher!

We talked about getting a backup vehicle of some kind when we move. When the car breaks down, it’s not like he can just walk to a bus stop and get to a car parts store easily. So, we might get an old pickup or van.

I shortened the rat’s cage, and you know, I really like it better this way. See, the cage has two square sets of bars that stack on top of each other and sit inside the base, which is like a huge litter box. The top stack of bars has a roof, naturally. Anyway, having the two square sets of bars is a bitch to deal with, cuz it’s harder to lift the two stacks off the base at my height to clean the bass. Especially when it’s up on wheels. But with one set, it’s easy enough to lift off to clean the base and the bars, too. I hope I can find another base (and roof), cuz if I can, I’d rather have two mini cages each with 2-3 rats in them. That way it’s easier to clean the base and the bars. If I have to have it tall again, at least I’ll take it off its wheels. That way, it’d be easier to lift the two stacks of bars off. It also makes vacuuming the sawdust these slobs throw out the cage easier.

For the longest time, I had the rat’s cage right by the back door, but now they’re sitting on top of the drawing table by the shelf where the mice are just inside the back room. That’s right - the H's will be getting a couple of little wall shelves that are in the back room. We certainly don’t want them. They’re so small and they’re not very nice, either.

Andy was getting to be a pest again yesterday with all his calls. His last message to me was that he’d give me a concert review to let me know how Linda was, but I haven’t heard from him.

The voice messaging system is all fucked up again. For a few days, the system was all fouled up, then things were back to normal. However, when I just went to send Andy a message asking about Linda, it wouldn’t let me send it. Fine. Fuck it. I’m sure as hell not going to call direct, cuz he’d no doubt answer since he’s always home and always has his ringer on unless he’s sleeping, and get stuck on the phone with him for 1-3 hours.

Woke up at 108 today cuz I’ve really been watching what I eat. I finally shit yesterday for the first time in a week, so now I’m done with that for a week. I still think it is cuz of the Melatonin for two reasons. One, cuz of God’s theme for me - being different. So, if most people don’t get constipated from something, then I’m more likely to. Two, I think it goes along the lines of his compensation game and making me pay for things, whether or not they’re normal, everyday things or not. Of course he’d make sure I could only shit once a week if I was gonna be allowed to be able to keep a schedule. I don’t know how much longer I can keep it up, though. I don’t know how much longer I’ll even want to keep it up. I may want to take a break once we get to the apartment, but I may not be able to sleep there during the daytime with the noise. I may just have to wait till we get to the house, which won’t be till Dec-Jan.

I got a card in the mail from the home shopping channel with an ad about an artist named Rustie and a doll of hers that’ll be airing later this month. I’m not fond of Rustie dolls. I think all her faces look the same and her outfits are too frilly. Also, the hair on this particular doll is hideous, even though it’s long. It’s too bushy and the curls are way too tight. Anyway, it was still cool to get this card, cuz it makes me feel all the more like I’m an official collector. I’m known now for collecting dolls, so I should and will get stuff like this.

Last night, after sifting through all the childbirth, the kids having kids, the druggies who lost custody of their kids, and the like, I saw some pretty neat stuff. As you know, I’m fascinated by airplanes. I love to fly. It’s a total adrenaline rush for me. This was about air disasters. It was a bit scary, but neat anyway. I also saw a documentary on technical disasters such as The Challenger, Chornobyl, The Exxon Valdez, a burst dam in China, and more. Tonight I’m gonna watch a hurricane documentary. Florida’s getting swamped with Hurricane Floyd right now, and that reminds me - typical Andy. He mentioned that there was a big hurricane and wondered how it was affecting my parents. He just had to bring them up. As if he doesn’t know they’re not my favorite topic of discussion. As if I even care about how it’s affecting them?

I wonder about past people I’ve known. I don’t care about them, but I’m curious. Did Kacey ever find another long-term girlfriend? Or did she continue dumping them every other week? Is Brenda still miserable, hanging out with losers? Are her kids still living with her sister? Are Ron and Al still alone like they deserve to be? Whatever happened to Mary C, Emily B, and Crystal C? Is Mary still with John? Did Emily’s third marriage work out? Is Crystal still using and ripping off roommates and attracted to bad boys? I even wonder about Fran. Is his life still the same? Probably. What about Jessie and Steve? I hope they’re happy. What about Tammy W and Anne Marie? What about Denise M from Valleyhead? Is that mean, snobby, insensitive bitch Maliheh still alone as she should be?

Anyway, I can’t believe that in just a couple of days, it’ll be our last weekend here!!!! Next Friday the 24th is when we’re gonna load up the crates. Over the weekend on the 25th and the 26th, he’ll come back and take care of last-minute things and clean the oven with that shit that smells like bleach and makes my lungs tight while I’m at the apt.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 14, 1999 Andy made a generous offer earlier. He said he had free tickets to see Linda Ronstadt and Emmylou Harris tonight and that he’d take me. I thought about it but declined cuz he’s about ten years too late. It’s funny how I was once dying to go see her as a teenager and couldn’t cuz I got in trouble for smoking or something like that, but now that I can see her, I decide not to. I would’ve up till I was around 24, though. I was tempted at first, cuz I have been a fan of hers since I was about 9 years old, after all, and since it probably wouldn’t be so wild of a crowd, but then I was like - nah. He’d insist on either taking me to his house afterward or coming here to use the Internet, so nah. And the more I tried to tell him that I just wanted to go straight home afterward without him, he’d push harder to come in or to go somewhere else first. Also, I can’t tell him not to smoke in his own car, so I’d have had to put up with his cigarette smoke. Also, you just don’t get the kind of views you can from TV and videos, and she is old and fat now. I haven’t one stitch of lust left for her. Still, it was nice of Andy to offer.

We ended up going on a wild goose chase today cuz the fucking doll store we thought was in Phoenix is really in Kingman (it didn’t say in the phonebook, so we assumed it was in PHX) and it’s not a regular store. It’s a mail-order service. We called them on the cell phone when we couldn’t find them, and they say they’re opening a regular store in Mesa in a few weeks. I think, though, that after two tries at looking in stores and not finding anything, I might call it quits for now and just get Marisa, Chyna, Sekarina, Tiffany, Sacajawea, and Pine Leaf if they’re still available.

Again, everywhere I looked, as we were cruising down the streets, was nothing but those fucking, filthy, lazy, freeloaders! I swear, Phoenix is 60% Mexican, 30% black, and 10% white. Will there be any white people left in this country, especially in the southwest, a century from now?

Speaking of freeloaders, the ones next door have oil-absorbing gravel all over their driveway, cuz the pickup has a very bad oil leak. But if they don’t want oil in the fucking driveway, why can’t they just park the damn thing in the street?

Also, the dark red car wasn’t here long last night, it didn’t come and go a million times, and there was no music, no yelling, no loitering, or any trashing. I tell you - it’s cuz we’re moving, so there’s not gonna be much in the way of shit to deal with from them. If the house was still on the market, then yes.

Later…

I just changed the animals’ cages.

Andy left a message regarding the animal pictures I sent him. He said he’s normally grossed out by rodents but can see how they’d make cute pictures. He’s also going to see Linda alone. This will be at least the third or fourth time he’s seen her.

Tom’s mom had to return early from her trip to Michigan. She had problems getting on and off the planes. The law requires planes to accommodate handicapped people, but I guess they didn’t feel like it, so they had to deal with that shit, and getting on/off the planes was a big to do. Then when they finally got to Neva’s door she collapsed. All the while she was there, she was out of it. For some unknown reason, her brain isn’t working right. She remembers old stuff better than new stuff, and since it’d been a really long time since she was at Neva’s, she had a hard time remembering the house’s layout.

At first I had a hard time feeling sorry for her and was like - what? Does she want to be a burden to people? How could she have been stupid enough to go in the first place? But according to Tom, she doesn’t know any better. But Mary and her doctors do and they should’ve put their foot down since she obviously can’t make her own decisions. As Tom said, the question is - will she go to California like she was originally planning to with David and Evie? I’m sure she’ll be stupid enough to try. And Mary will be even more stupid and not stop her. Anyway, Evelyn’s gonna be with her during the daytime cuz she just can’t be alone anymore, then I guess, and I hope, she’ll be in some kind of care center where she belongs. It may be more expensive and she may not be as happy, but she belongs in a nursing home/care center of some kind. She’s only got about a year to live anyway, so she may as well go where people can care for her 24 hours a day and where she wouldn’t be such a burden to Tom and Mary. I doubt Tom would ever admit she’s a burden, but still, he doesn’t need to be her daddy. He has too many other things to do. The man’s got a right to have a life one of these days! We need to move and then relax for a change. Not play parent to someone who should be in a facility with people who are trained and equipped to deal with her and her needs. No wonder God didn’t want us to be parents. He knew we’d have to be her parents.

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 13, 1999 A guy came to appraise the house today. He was only here a few minutes. I guess the termite inspection and going to Steven’s to pick out the colors/options and sign the contract come next.

The freeloaders have been both believably and unbelievably well-behaved. It’s believable cuz we’re moving, and it’s unbelievable cuz they were so fucking noisy. Anyway, the weekend was quiet and they only had that gold car over Saturday, and that’s it. It didn’t stay overnight, either. There’s been no loitering, no voices out back, no music, etc. I’m not saying I won’t hear from them or the ranchero while we’re still here, but it’s been great. I am not looking forward to dealing with apartment life for a few months, though, but it’ll be well worth it. I’ll hear different sounds, but the noise there will be much more consistent. Instead of dogs and stereos, it’ll be cabinets, doors, footsteps, and things like that. It’ll be mostly inside noise that’ll be a nuisance, but at least this time around I’ll have the fan and the cordless headphones. I’m sure there’ll be noisy kids, too. Especially at the pool, but at least they keep the bees away. That’s the only thing I miss about apartments. Cuz of all the people, there were no bees to worry about.

Also, the freeloaders have taken to parking the pickup in the street again. Good. That way they won’t be so tempted to trash our yard with cigarette butts since they don’t walk by our yard to get to the pickup when it’s in the street.

Yesterday, we went for our final swim, since the water’s getting a bit chilly. Tom got a little sad for a minute there, cuz this is the house we got married in. I understand. There are some good memories associated with this house along with the years I was miserable over not being able to have a kid. I quit smoking in this house, started a great doll collection, and a wonderful collection of rats and mice, too.

I took a series of awesome pictures yesterday. I took some of the house, the yard, the animals, and Tom. I zoomed in on the palm tree across the street and took a full-screen size picture of that so I have my own palm tree pictures besides the ones I got online. After sending Tammy, Dureen, and Art their letters upon moving, I’ll be sending them pictures of Tom, the animals, the dolls, and the new place.

I sent Andy a dozen or so cute animal pictures and a picture of Tom in the pool that came out great.

The freeloaders will be getting a couple more pictures. One of my hand flipping the finger, and one of the pigeons sitting on their roof that I zoomed in on.

Andy called to tell me he began reading my story and that he thinks it was well written. He also said he was headed out to lunch and would read the rest of it there.

I looked online to see if I could find out if Melatonin causes constipation, but couldn’t find a link. I hope Tom’s right about it just being over the stress of the move, cuz I haven’t been this constipated since I was on Navane! Of course, all my hard work of just having barely 1000 calories yesterday didn’t pay off cuz I’ve been stuck for days. I should’ve known better than to waste my time, but I can’t eat the normal amount anyway, or else I’ll be 125 pounds in no time if I’m only gonna shit once or twice a week.

I tried to attach the piece of my cut hair, which I braided, to Victoria by sewing it into her bonnet, but it didn’t look very good, cuz you could still see her blond hair at her hairline.

Later…

I called this doll store Tom said was close by that I found in the phonebook, and if what I was told is true, I can’t wait to get to this store! She said they have dolls as tall as 5’ 4”. Oh my God! That’s taller than me and that’d make Ciara seem Rapunzel’s size! And she said it was only $1000-$1,200. I thought that’d be between $3,000-$4,000. Anyway, she says they do have realistic-looking dolls and a good selection of Indian dolls.

Later…

Andy kept me on the phone for an hour, and who knows how much longer we’d have been on the phone if I hadn’t let him go. He’s really been quite a rambler in the last half a decade or so, and you know how I hate sitting on the phone even though I was bored shitless before I called. I’ll have to remember these long, boring, grueling phone chats whenever I feel guilty about dumping him in the future, besides the fact that he has Michelle. I can’t believe he didn’t mention God!

Anyway, he says he’s still working for Barbara Nicks, is otherwise unemployed, and wants to go back to working full-time (yeah, right!), but not with people. He wants a job isolated from people. He hasn’t been at Red Lobster since May. I didn’t know this, but it doesn’t surprise me. He thought he told me about it already, he says, but nope. He said he got into an altercation with an employee and was told to go work at some other Red Lobster and he told them to fuck off. In other words, he was fired yet again for the millionth time. I understand his clashing with people, though. I always had the same problem. If I don’t make trouble for others, others make trouble for me. Somehow, someway, be it my fault or not, I’d pretty much have problems with any group of people in any place.

He said Barbara Nicks has a little house by her store in Silver Springs that she said he could rent for $550. He says he couldn’t swing it alone (his rent’s now $380). Not if he’s gonna be unemployed and spending a ton of money on pot, cigarettes and food. He said he and Michelle have been wanting to live together again for a long time, but that he doesn’t think Barbara would go for that. Also, his current landlord is lenient when he’s late with his rent, but he doesn’t think Barbara would be so lenient.

There’s this 22-year-old boy he has a crush on who buys weed from him. It figures. Totally figures. He just doesn’t think he deserves anyone better and it’s so sad! Then again, we can’t help what we like.

Originally, he left me messages critiquing my story like I asked him to. He did a good job of it too, and said the same thing Tom said; the story’s moving too fast. I’ll have to try to find a happy medium between dragging on and on and getting boring, and this fast pace I’ve been at so far.

He also wanted me to hear his outgoing message, and he said, “Watch. You’ll call and I’ll answer.” This is when I realized he wanted me to call him and wanted to answer so we could talk live, and sure enough, he did answer.

He asked me more about the house, and that was pretty much it. He wants a message taped that I’ll add to his tape sometime later.

I dread that during our last two weeks here, he’s suddenly gonna need a favor that he’ll just have to come over for. Something that’ll be a pain in the ass for me to do, and then that’ll be one more time I’ll have to deal with this baked bore! He sounded unusually alert, focused, and sober today, though.

Later…

God, I’m so fucking bored now that it’s bordering on depression. I’m bummed over not having much to do till we move, and the things I could be doing now, I just don’t have the energy to do. I don’t feel like working on my story or reading. I’m not in the mood to listen to music and I don’t want to go watch childbirth, either.

Tom took a few pictures of me yesterday too, and they were like - oh my God! Is he lying by saying I’m skinny and beautiful? Is he blind? Or is it just his nature to want to disagree kicking in? I’m huge! But the question is, how can I be just 110 pounds? That’s impossible. I’m much too big to be just 110 pounds. I look 15-20 pounds heavier and I really think I’m somewhere around 120 pounds. I wasn’t even this big when I was in the 130s when I was 18! I’ve definitely gotten more inches for the pound with age. I’ve always had my problem spots, but now I’m big everywhere. I was never big in the neck, the hips, the arms, and the ass when I was 18. Now I am. I suppose part of it is my sagging and aging, but I’ve still seen plenty of people who are way older than me who are also much smaller. I’m huge everywhere and I’m sure the average person would describe me as chunky. I know what I’m seeing in the mirror and what I saw in those pictures weren’t just my imagination. Still, seeing those pictures was actually a good thing, cuz it’s made me eat even less, not that I’ve been one to gorge. Yes, people are full of shit if they think you have to overeat to be fat! Maybe you do to be as big as the bitch next door if you don’t have a medical condition.

Later…

There’s a dark red car out front that I’ve seen before, and I also saw three boys. A couple of them may’ve been twins. They wore brown shirts and their hair was short except for a little tail in the back. One cock was fumbling with his pants at the dick area doing God only knew what. At first I was like - oh, so they’re gonna loiter out front for hours and trash our yard? But nope. At least not now, cuz they headed indoors.

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 12, 1999 We screwed earlier and now he’s glued to the TV.

You know, I really realized something big time today. He’s happy the way he is in bed. He’s never complained, let alone wanted to see a doctor or try stimulants. He says he enjoys it and that he’d tell me if he didn’t, so yes, he really does like things the way they are sex-wise.

For the longest time, I didn’t see how he could get as excited as he does, get no relief, then say he enjoys sex. But then it hit me that just because I couldn’t enjoy sex if I got that close to cumming but didn’t, and just because most people wouldn’t be happy with that, doesn’t mean he can’t be happy with just getting excited. Who am I to say what should or shouldn’t make him happy? Only he can know how he feels and what makes him happy and I truly believe he’s been honest about that much. Yes, I still believe he’s afraid to cum for fear of impregnating me, but he’s still happy. The only thing I fear is my returning to wanting a kid sometime down the road, but as I told him - his sexual satisfaction is more important than anything I could ever want. I don’t want him to change. I want him to be himself and be happy, and he’s plenty worth giving up something I may want that would only make me miserable and that God wouldn’t allow me to have anyway. So, no doctors, no stimulants, no in-vitro. Besides, it’s not definite that I’ll go back to wanting a kid, and whether or not I did, I’ve got a million other things I want and if I didn’t, I’m sure I could get them.

As for myself, I don’t enjoy sex, so to speak, but it’s certainly no turn-off to me. I don’t get as excited as he does and I certainly don’t cum, but as I told him, it’d still be nice for him to go down on me every now and then, cuz at this day and age, that’s the easiest way for me to get off. Any other way takes me forever. So, it’s not that I can’t get off, it just takes so long. I choose not to so I don’t take forever and cuz I don’t want to be the “man” in bed. With most couples, the guy gets off more, and I feel weird about getting off more than he does, being the woman. With most things, I don’t mind being different. I even like it. However, I don’t want to be that different in bed. We’re already unique enough in that department, but it’s not like we don’t cum at all. I use the vibrator fairly regularly enough, and I’m sure he takes care of himself.

There is something he’s willingly changed for me in bed, and I really appreciate it and his accommodating me on this. That’s that he’s only spending a few minutes on the side. That really helps, cuz I never did like that position all that much. Not like with him on top. It’s just too unnatural of an angle for me and causes me to feel pressure spots in my lower gut.

For the sake of my inquisitive nature, I’m still not going to mention cumming at least till we’ve been in the house a few months and are settled. It’s one thing for me to say that not talking about how he is in bed won’t change him, especially if he’s happy and if he likes not cumming, but it’s another to see it. So, let’s see me be right about it. I know it won’t change anything, now let’s see it. Again, I don’t want to change him and make him not be himself and make him unhappy. I just don’t want to ever want a kid again, cuz despite all the technology available today, nothing can help me. I’ve got too many odds stacked against me. But why doesn’t God have something go wrong where I need a hysterectomy? What do I need my parts for?

Later…

I just thought of something else, too. How am I ever gonna know for sure if he likes not cumming due to his fear of me getting pregnant? I mean, I’m 98% sure that that’s why he likes not cumming, but what if there’s a 2% chance it’s something else, and what else could it be? Could he not be attracted to me? Could it be something I’ve never even thought of? People usually like what they like for a reason.

Well, he definitely prefers sexual pleasure over a kid. No doubt about it. He’s never once on his own openly expressed a desire for a kid. Not like I used to. I really firmly believe that if he had to choose between giving up his sexual satisfaction for a kid, or keeping it and giving up the kid, he’d take the sexual pleasure in a heartbeat. He definitely does like to not cum. He definitely does not want a kid. I’ll bet you that if I never mentioned a kid again in my life, he’d never bring it up again and he’d never give a moment’s thought to if I could be wanting a kid deep down inside. This is the one area he’s thought of himself first, but that’s OK as long as he never takes me for granted. What I mean is that most women would not sacrifice a kid for a guy. Most women would leave him if they wanted a kid, so I just hope he’s always appreciative of the big thing I’ve done for him just like I’m appreciative of the big things he’s done for me.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 11, 1999 Tom got a little book of apartments. Next week we have to line up the storage crates, an apartment, and a PO Box.

Crystal Creek’s charging nearly $700 for their 2-bedrooms! It was just over $500 for one when we were there. I can’t believe how outrageously expensive Phoenix has become, and it used to be known for its cheaper cost of living. We’re only getting a 1-bedroom apartment. Yeah, right next to the freeloaders. God always makes sure I get stuck with them. I’ve had some pretty uncool white neighbors too, but you know how God is with me - the more I try to avoid things I don’t like, the more he seems determined to shove them in my face, so I’m gonna really be cursed with blacks and Mexicans. I certainly didn’t know what he was trying to tell me, till I met Tom, by rubbing guys in my face like he did for so long. I wish I knew why he rubbed kids in my face too, since we know he was never trying to tell me he wanted me to have one of those. Anyway, the blacks and or Mexicans will go right next to us, trust me.

A certain pack of freeloaders we’re next to now, was quiet last night as far as I know. They didn’t seem to have company either, but it was only 10:00 when I crashed. Besides, it’s Saturday nights that tend to be their bigger company night. All I saw yesterday was the red car.

Just as I was walking up to the living room window late yesterday afternoon, I saw the fat tub of shit standing in the back of the pickup as it was leaving, heading down the street. Why would the bitch need to stand? Couldn’t she sit? Also, the pickup’s taken to parking in the carport where the silver car used to park, which I don’t like, but it’s only for two more weeks! It doesn’t feel that way, though. It just doesn’t seem real yet. Anyway, they must have some enemy after them that they don’t trust, cuz they could’ve parked the thing in the driveway outside of the carport before, but they never did. I always assumed it was because they were just too lazy to go in and out of the driveway so that’s why they’d park in the street. So this suddenly not parking in the street, which they never had to do before, tells me there’s someone that’s pretty pissed off at them that they’re wary of and so they want to keep the pickup closer to them.

Deb just came in driving the blue pickup and honking. I saw a couple of kids get out carrying a big radio and something else. Again, why would you need to honk when you’re coming in and then going right back out? She never was signaling for someone she was picking up. I’ve heard a lot of horn-honking so far today, but I couldn’t tell where all of it was coming from.

Across the street had a hell of a party, but fortunately, they let me sleep and haven’t been noisy at all. They had about 6 cars over there and they’re still there now. What is this? A new trend? If you visit someone on a weekend, are you supposed to stay there overnight nowadays?

Later…

The freeloaders are still parking in the driveway, but now they’re parked just outside the carport where I can see them from the living room window. They’ve been out a couple of times already today.

The weekend slumber party across the street is still going on, but thankfully, they’ve been quiet and keeping their party for their ears only.

I rearranged my dolls yet again and am back to having four doll boxes, but I’ve decided not to take Ciara to the apt. She’s a bitch to set up and dress and undress and pack, so she’s going in with our other storage stuff till we get into the house. So are the Barbies.

So, I have Ciara in box one, Patrice in box two, Bailey and Maria in box three, and everyone else in a big wide tall box. They’re all standing upright and are snugly against each other so unless you pick the box up and flip it upside down, they’re secure. These, I’ll set up at the new place.

We went to a couple of pool stores for parts we needed for the pool, and while he was in one of them, I browsed through a gift shop. I couldn’t believe the nice wigs they had for dirt cheap!

Now here’s something I found both shocking and disappointing - we went to the doll store I got Bailey from, and boy have they changed! They only had one nice Indian doll, but she was too small and too pricey. She was about 20” and she was $600! Beautiful and realistic, though. They only had a few 24” dolls and they weren’t that impressive. They even had a few vinyls. Most of their dolls were small, though, and pretty boring. I’m glad I found this out now, so we won’t end up wasting our time coming in from the Tempe/Mesa area all for nothing. As Tom said, and as the phonebook said, there are plenty of other stores to check out.

I checked online to see what dolls I could come across and found a doll I have to have. She’s a sitting doll that’s only 9½” high, but she’s gorgeous! Totally my type of doll. She’s $125 and is Sacajawea’s replacement (Sacajawea was the same size/cost). She sits unlike any other doll I’ve got, sort of Indian style, and seems pretty real-looking. She has a white-flowered blouse that’s off the shoulders, black pants, and nice bare hands and feet. Nothing on the head. She has an ankle and wrist bracelet and she has a wooden brush she brushes her long dark hair with. At first I thought she was an Indian cuz of the long straight hair parted in the middle, but with the name Marisa, she may be a Latin doll. Who knows, I may even end up replacing Pine Leaf, too. Pine Leaf has a great face, though, so we’ll see. It depends on what else is available. I’ll have to weigh the pros and cons of the dolls I like and decide which ones to get. It’s lots of fun at the same time I wish I could have all the ones I like. Don’t all doll collectors? Well, maybe I can have them all if I make some decent money writing! I still hope to get Chyna, though, and I really hope to get Sekarina.

Later…

The first of the half-a-dozen vehicles to be next door tonight just showed up. It’s that gold car I saw that 40-something guy and that 8-year-old in that stood overnight last Saturday. Find a spot on the floor, guys!

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 10, 1999 Tonight should be our second to last Friday night here on N. 21 Ave.!

Also, I’m back on schedule without even trying! The night before last I didn’t bother taking Melatonin since I was planning on catching up on my sleep. I did take a Benadryl but it didn’t put me out like it usually does. I took a Melatonin last night, though, at around 2:00 and was asleep by 2:30. Because I’d had a whole ten hours of sleep the night before, I woke up on my own today shortly after 8:00, almost an hour before the alarm was due to go off! I am a bit tired, though.

Yesterday’s trip out to the land was a waste of time. The contractor’s name is Gravity, of all names, and as Tom said, he’s a big talker. He says it could take four months before we get moved in, which Steven wouldn’t tell us, he says. It’s nice to know we’ve got reliable people working for us we can trust. Well, it’s still worth it if that ends up being the case, and whether or not we spend one week or four months in an apartment, it’s gonna be a nightmare and I’m not gonna be getting much sleep even though Tom insists I’m wrong. But I know how apartment walls are out here. We may not hear anything as loud as stereos if we’re set back further from the street, and they may not have dogs barking non-stop, but there will be clusters of kids outside our windows constantly, and we’ll be hearing our neighbor’s cabinets, doors, and footsteps just fine. With our luck we'll probably get what I last had living next to me on Bell Road; a group of teenagers who are constantly slamming doors and blaring their music. Or maybe a mad butch like at the Vista, but Tom said it’s different in places that are geared towards short-term rental, cuz those are people that are coming from houses that behave as if they live in houses. Yeah well, not all people that live in houses behave very well or very quietly, but we’ll see.

Gravity said that snakes may lie against the house at night, so it’d be important for us to be careful when opening doors. That’s nice to know. According to him, though, we can just get pigs. Pigs will eat anything, including snakes, he says, cuz a pig’s skin is too thick for a snake’s fangs to penetrate.

They didn’t stake anything, though, cuz as Tom figured and as they discussed, it’d be cheaper for Tom himself to put a wire fence around the property. They did discuss where to put the house and other things, but that’s about it for now. I would imagine that within the next few days, we’ll be going to see Steven to pick out colors. I remember the colors I picked out already.

At least we’ll have no problems with a cell phone out there. Tom wasn’t sure if it’d work OK with the mountains, but it does.

I was really on a roll with my story yesterday and I sent the first 5 chapters to Andy. He may be too stoned to read it or he just may not care to read it, but whatever he does, he does.

Later…

Well, the freeloaders definitely did not work today, if they are working at all, and I still don’t think they are. I think they’ll go straight from welfare checks to social security checks as I said before. They were playing car, though. Every Mexican’s favorite pastime. Tom said he saw them working on the pickup’s oil leak. Due to the times I’ve seen them come and go so far today, it makes me wonder if they’re actually beginning to sleep at night more often. I haven’t seen anyone hanging out front at night in ages.

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 9, 1999 I’ve got to get Tom up at 4:30, cuz the contractor’s coming to pick him up around 5:30 and they’re going to go out and stake the land. He said I’m welcome to come along, but that it was not necessary. Yeah, I think I’ll hang back and work on my story and maybe do some singing.

Yesterday was the first time in about a month that I didn’t set my alarm. I woke up many times along the way, but I was so beat that I ended up sleeping 10 hours!

I worked on my story for about an hour yesterday, but only got 27 new lines. That’s because I spent so much more time changing things around. I realized I could go crazy with changes and make changes every day for the rest of my life, so I’ve got to find a happy medium between realistic changes and outrageous changes.

I’ve got a 3-ring notebook out and later I’ll look for the old paper puncher, so I can print the story out by chapters for him to read.

I saw a little boy about 5 years of age, and a guy with a crew cut that sort of looked white, although I’m sure he wasn’t since next door obviously doesn’t like whites, get into the pickup. But they were only gone two minutes before coming back and leaving again. Now where would you go for two minutes just to come right back, sit at the curb for another two minutes or so puffing on a smoke, then take off again?

After finally being able to shit yesterday after not being able to for 3-4 days, I’m stuck again. I’m not surprised, either. My latest habit is to go just twice a week, but it won’t kill me. I just may have to work harder at staying around 110 pounds.

I did the most work on my story today than I ever have before in one day.

Later…

Fucking people and their procrastinating and not doing what they say they’re going to do! The fucking contractor was supposed to pick him up at 4:30 to go to stake out the land, but then the cock called saying he was running late. So they agreed to meet each other there at the land, but he hasn’t shown up. Tom just called saying traffic was horrible and he’s not there. That’s still no excuse. That cock better hurry up and get there cuz it’s getting dark fast. I don’t want Tom to have lost valuable sleep for nothing. Can people do anything on time these days? Are there any business people that aren’t late?

Later…

Boy, am I pissed now! Tom called again asking for the cock’s number, but the cock just pulled in. Great. Just fucking great. It’s nearly pitch dark now, you fucking cock!

I saw a black girl hanging out front with what I think is the oldest girl living next door. If it is the girl next door, she sure cut her hair. It’s boy-short now. I later saw the black girl roller-blading down the street.

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 8, 1999 The curiosity got to me and I asked him why he still didn’t cum if he agreed to be a naturalist along with me and after I said it’d be OK, but again he insists it’s not his choice; it either happens or it doesn’t. Also, we are being naturalists by just letting whatever happens to happen. True. I guess I didn’t think of it that way, and I guess we’re still being naturalists even if I’m still right about the reason he doesn’t cum being due to a subconscious fear. Anyway, he has a point, nonetheless, and he also swears he wouldn’t be embarrassed going to a doctor about it and says that maybe someday he will. As long as he’s honest - great. I’d still like to experiment with stimulants after we’ve moved and are settled and see where that naturally takes us. I had always been afraid that if I someday decided yes, I want to go through with the in vitro for sure, he’d either renege on our deal or not cooperate and do his part one way or another, but he gave his word and he agreed that if I ever found myself wanting a kid again (not that I think God would allow it) that he’d do his part, go to a doctor first about the cumming, see if I could conceive naturally by his cumming regularly, even though I know I wouldn’t, then go for in-vitro. That way they could see that we tried to help ourselves first in virtually every way possible, even if that means counting days, taking temps, and doing things we don’t necessarily want to do. It will depend on how much we feel a kid is worth it, and I don’t know what the future holds as far as what we’ll want to do and find worth it, but right now, I’d rather just concentrate on moving and getting settled in in the new house before I make any decisions about that. I may be around 40 years old, give or take a few years before I did anything about having a kid if that’s what I decided to do. I still don’t see God allowing that, and I don’t know if that’d be something I’d want or could handle. As for him, according to what he’s said, he’s happy if I’m happy. In other words, I think he’ll be fine if I decide to go for the in vitro at some point and fine if I don’t. Just as long as we both stick to our agreements and let the other know if we want to make a change and why we want to make the change. I feel the same way too, what with wanting him to be happy. If the guy wanted my tubes tied I’d be having them tied ASAP, etc. I’d do anything I could that was within my means, and if it wasn’t within my means, I’d try like hell to get it within my means. The only thing I do know for sure is that I haven’t conceived naturally after the 6 years we’ve been together and I never will at this rate as long as he rarely gets off. The interesting thing to see will be whether or not we choose to do something about it. My guess is that he’ll always be the way he is for many possible reasons. 1. It seems to be so much a part of him just like computers are. 2. The doctors may not be able to help him if he wanted to make a change like that. 3. He might think he’s not embarrassed, then find that he is and he may shy away in the end. 4. He may subconsciously be against change of any kind for whatever reason and resist a doctor’s suggestions.

Hopefully, we’ll never be faced with a conflict of interest. We both agree we’ll support each other, but we could end up in trouble if one wants to do something while the other wants to do something else. If I decide I want a kid and say to him, “You agreed to support me so you should be doing whatever you can to get off more,” he could easily counter that by saying, “But you said you’d accept me as I am and I can’t/don’t want to change.” Well, hopefully we can find a way to compromise if we ever cross this kind of bridge and work things out so neither of us feels controlled, not accepted, cheated, betrayed, or like we’re losing out on things in life.

He’s always sworn my not mentioning his cumming would be his cure-all, and even though he’s said that about other’s things we’ve tried, let’s see. The only reason I didn’t experiment with this suggestion was cuz of my doubt, but let’s see. If you’re an inquisitive person such as I am, experimenting is fun. So, my lips about the subject will be sealed for the rest of the century.

Maybe next door does leave the front light on when someone who lives there is coming/going, cuz it was on late last night while the pickup made a few trips in and out. Again the pickup’s been gone all day.

Tom said they followed him in the pickup to Circle K the other day. Not intentionally, of course, but the fat bitch and some fat male were pulling in next to him as he was leaving.

On a map that came in the mail from a title agency, I saw that I was wrong when I said there were 6 houses on this block. There are actually 5. Us, the freeloaders, the collies, and two others.

He bought a map that was expensive at $28, but the only map, nonetheless, with the street we’re gonna be living on. That way, since he’s not as familiar with the area, he can find alternatives to getting home if he gets caught in a storm. He could get lost without it since those dirt roads tend to get washed out during storms.

As usual, Steven didn’t call back when he said he was going to so we can find out how to get a hold of the contractor, which is our next step. That and getting the permit for the well, storage crates, and an apartment. However, we can’t really do anything with the contractor till we own the land and that doesn’t close till October 7th, ten days after the house closes.

He did ease my nerves tremendously, though. I think it was Labor Day when this happened, but we got a call from a realtor wanting to show the house, and we were like - what?! Still, my vibes weren’t saying the H's backed out and no one said they did, which they would’ve by now you’d think, and the freeloaders were still being quiet. I guess it was a misunderstanding of some kind, but as Steven said, it’s a done deal. Our house is sold! That brought tears of relief to my eyes.

I packed Ciara in the box she came in. First I took off her dress since I figured it’d be hard to repack in the box without getting it all rumpled. I hung it on a hanger (I held the thing up to me and it was below my knees) and covered it with a clothing cover Ma made me one Christmas.

Tom wants to go back to the arcade where the award ceremonies were to play some more games. He described some of them to me but says they’re kind of expensive. Some games are $3.

Once again, my schedule’s been thrown off, but this time there’s no one to blame but myself. I couldn’t fall asleep till 1:00 last night and I just couldn’t pull myself out of bed at 8:00, so I slept in till 10:30. Tom said I ought to give myself a day off. Well, it has been a month since I’ve slept right through and woken up naturally without alarms, so maybe I will.

Later…

The pickup’s back. This is the same time it came back yesterday, too.

I decided to play Andy’s game along with him. We’ve been getting private calls where there’s no message left, and I still feel it’s Andy. So, I blocked my number and called him right after getting the last two calls I got this morning and just now, and he was home. I decided to trust my gut instinct that says it’s him and give him a few calls, too. I’ve called three times today so far. The same amount of times he called me. I just hung up the first time, and let the radio I’m listening to record on his machine the second and third time.

I know it’s him. Why is he doing this? Oh, just cuz he’s bored. He probably figures it’s a good thing to do before he gets dumped too, to get attention without me hearing his voice and knowing it’s him for sure.

Later…

Jesus! The welfare bums not only give us beer cans and cigarette butts, but now they’re giving us their kid’s clothes, too. I found a pair of sweatpants and a shirt beside our hedges in back. They had to have come from next door given the position they were in. They can’t be the black bitch’s cuz I would’ve noticed them back when I’d spy over the wall beside the hedges to see when the blacks were moving in. The pants were royal blue. The tag said ‘2 Toddler’. I guess they were Batman pants, cuz their trademark tag was inside the pants, too. The navy shirt was long-sleeved with green and maroon rings around each arm. There were no tags on it. Both were stained. The pants looked like they had white paint on the seat of them as well as on the front and back of one knee. The shirt was in better condition but had light streaks throughout it. Looks like some idiot tried to bleach the thing. So, did Deb or some other adult throw it over the wall deciding they were too fucked up? Or did the kids do it? My guess is that Deb was too lazy to throw them away so she gave them to us, but guess what? They’re going back! Not both the pants and the shirt, just the shirt. I can’t mail them both without going over 16 oz. Packages over 16 oz. aren’t supposed to be thrown in a mailbox. The postal workers fear it could contain bombs. Nonetheless, I’m sure crazy Deb will be quite surprised to get the shirt back. I’m sure she won’t be expecting it!

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 7, 1999 Well, I did hear from next door for about five minutes last night at 10:00, but not in the way of music. The liar came in in the blue pickup, honked, then stood outside gabbing for about five minutes with some other bitch, before honking again, then taking off a couple of minutes later. I guess they only leave the front light on if someone who doesn’t live there is coming. But what was weird, was that right after the cream pickup took off at 11:15, the light then went on. Maybe they had company that I didn’t notice that came at 11:30 or later. By 12:30 I was out like a light, so who knows? Anyway, the horn honking couldn’t have been more obviously aimed at me, but fine. Let them honk all they want.

Miraculously, I’m back on schedule! Just when I thought I was knocked off it for sure, the Melatonin did work for me last night so I could fall asleep a little earlier and get up a little earlier. I still woke up a few times, though, but fell right back to sleep. There’s a catch, though, as always. I’ve had really bad bouts of constipation lately where I’m stuck for days at a time. Tom says it’s cuz he thinks I haven’t eaten enough foods with fiber lately, but I think it’s cuz of the Melatonin. Melatonin’s supposed to be natural and the bottle doesn’t say anything about that, but how much do you want to bet it’s just another one of God’s compensation trips? See? I have to pay for everything I gain. He’s not gonna win this time, though. I’ll eat more fiber, but I won’t give up the Melatonin unless it ever does stop working and stays that way. Meanwhile, I just won’t shit if he feels I have to be punished for my accomplishment.

I have never been more baffled by Tom and sex as I was the other day, but what else is new, huh? For the first time ever, he looked truly, genuinely bummed when I reminded him of why it’s not good to let me conceive even if the odds of that happening are one in millions, and suggested he keep not cumming. But it was always his choice not to cum in the first place so why would he be bummed by my suggesting he shouldn’t? I just suggested it, I didn’t demand it. He took the initiative to be my birth control along with God and he decided he wouldn’t cum. I told him later he could do what he wants, but even after telling him that, and even after the bummed-out reaction, he still wouldn’t cum. I just don’t get him. Why would he be upset over something that was always his choice to begin with? And why doesn’t he do something about it if he’s bummed over it?

I still haven’t gotten to our Sunday outing. We went to four different furniture stores to get ideas and prices. In some cases we can get what we want, in others, we can get what’s reasonable. We don’t want to put all our money into pricey furniture just because we can. We want to leave money for other things. In fact, he made up a budget he showed me today that looked pretty good to me.

We went to the grocery store yesterday where we picked up a few food items, as well as a different brand of KY for me that’s not so sticky and hard to wash off. What’s weird is that although this stuff is more liquid-ish, it doesn’t say not to use it if pregnancy is desired. However, both this KY and the one I’d been using say there’s no spermicide in the stuff and it’s not a contraceptive. Well, God and Tom will be my contraceptive just fine, and the stuff may not contain spermicide, but any doctor will tell you it’s almost as good as any contraceptive can get. It’s still too sticky for sperm to swim through very well.

We went to Staples too, and I got a damn good idea of what I want for a computer desk.

Lastly, I suggested we treat ourselves to some ice cream on our way back. Why not? Dieting doesn’t work. At least not for me it doesn’t. I’m sick of working so hard at dieting just to be the same weight month after month, so fuck it. I’ll eat what I want and fuck my weight.

Later…

The fat bitch took off in the cream pickup late this morning. I wonder where she’s been for most of the day. Maybe she’s working part-time, but I don’t know. I haven’t seen Chester or that striped van for a while, so I don’t know what his story is lately, either.

Later…

Maybe I know a little of Chester’s affairs after all, cuz he’s out front right now. The cream pickup and a green/white striped Chevy pickup just came in, and I thought I saw a fairly small guy take a box into the house, but then Chester came out of the house with a black shiny box. I don’t know what the fuck it was. He just handed it to the little guy and now they’re both sitting on the back of the pickup gabbing. This is the first time I’ve seen anyone hanging out front in a while.

Now there are two little guys. When I say “little” I mean that they’re shorter than Chester. Chester’s topless, and one of the shorter guys is wearing a white shirt while the other’s wearing a maroon one. They just put a bike in the back of this Chevy with its maroon plate and now they’re taking off.

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 6, 1999 So far, this has been a very quiet Labor Day. The blue pickup was in and out, but other than that, there hasn’t been anything going on yet. I don’t exactly have a bad vibe either, so I guess that’s good. If anything is going to happen, I’d say it’s not going to till the evening.

Next door’s lack of front light last night told me there wouldn’t be company, and from what I could tell, they didn’t.

I may’ve become immune to the Melatonin, which means I may only be able to hold a schedule intermittently. After two Melatonin pills not working last night, I had to resort to a Benadryl to crash (I know I should’ve spelled ‘Benadryl’ with a capital B all along, but I’m too lazy to go back and make corrections). Also, I couldn’t get up on time today. If only that tire screecher hadn’t fucked things up! I needed to sleep in till 10:00 cuz I was so tired. So, I probably won’t be able to back up my schedule. I’ll probably have to roll it over. At least I held the schedule for three weeks. That’s the longest I’ve done that in years.

We’re about to do something else we haven’t done in ages - screw twice in one week. We’re not gonna cum, of course, but still, it’s a nice change of pace every now and then.

Later…

It looks like nothing’s gonna be going on next door, after all. The blue pickup visited twice, but as far as I know, that’s all that’s visited. The cream pickup just began moving, but now’s the time it normally begins coming/going - in the early evening. Meanwhile, just like last night, there’s no front light on.

The only annoying thing I hear right now is some fuck gunning his truck, motorcycle, or whatever the fuck the Goddamn thing is. I just tuned him out with some music, though.

I don’t know if I mentioned this yet, but the silver car’s gone. The van’s still deep in the carport as it has been for months now, but the silver car’s gone. I don’t know if it still lives here or not. I haven’t heard car doors that sound like they’re coming from the carport. I’m kind of bummed. I kind of liked the idea of no one being able to get into the carport, but even getting to the street is too fucking close in this city!

The day after that fucking car with its screeching tires woke us up, we noticed tire tracks on the corner of our yard. Not the corner by the freeloaders which they drove over. We don’t know who the hell it was or if they were drunk, but I’d say so.

I hate being on the corner. We’ve got a corner lot out in Maricopa too (which he thought was Hidden Valley), but it’s different when you have a corner that’s 10 acres outside Phoenix than a corner that’s a sixth of one in Phoenix. OK, so we don’t have two houses just three feet away on both sides of us, but we get all kinds of kids and assholes like what woke us up cutting across our yard. Also, it’s noisier as far as stereos go, since they have to slow down to go around the corner and slowly drive by two sides of our house.

We’re going to be on the corner of two roads. Both these roads are in shitty condition. They’re dirt roads that are very bumpy. The good of it is that Tom said people aren’t gonna want to go cruising down those streets too often. Yeah, but they will when they’re improved like they will be someday. God’s not gonna let me live in peace no matter where I go, and if he does, it won’t be for long.

Sex was as I said/knew it’d be and I’m irritated again, too. I went from being sure it was from sex to sure it wasn’t from sex, but now I don’t know. It looks like it could be from sex, after all. I can’t think of anything else it could be. Why do I feel like God feels me having sex is a sin? Why have I always felt punished for any sex I’ve ever had? Why have I always felt sexually hexed? And the thing about it is that I know it’ll never go away. Once hexed with whatever, always hexed. So if someone’s hexed with jobs, they’ll always be hexed with jobs.

I have a lot more to write about. However, I’m not in the mood right now, so I’ll just say that I’m a little worried about things until Tom talks to Steven. According to the contract, we’ve only got three weeks left here!! But it just doesn’t feel that way. It just seems so unreal. I’m like - you mean God’s really gonna let us out of here now?! It’s like it’s too good to be true. However, we do have my logic, my vibes, and the fact that next door’s been quiet since we got the offer on our side. My vibes say the H's won’t back out of buying this house. My logic also tells me that too, cuz you’d think they’d have told us by now if they intended to back out. Also, from past experience, I know how it is with neighbors quieting down right before one of us is about to move. Well, hopefully Steven won’t have any bad news for us when Tom talks to him tomorrow.

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 5, 1999 The weekend is going by way too slowly. I’m exhausted right now cuz I didn’t sleep well last night at all and I don’t think I will till Tuesday.

I haven’t heard anything yet next door, but I’ve seen a lot of vehicles. Last night they had their typical weekend company which consisted of a ton of vehicles. Still no Ranchero yet that I know of, but definitely by Tuesday. No red boom stereo Bronco for about a month that I know of, either. The vehicles to file in last night were a silver jeep, the red car, the blue pickup, and a gold car that I mistook for a silver car the night that stereo drove by, which definitely had nothing to do with them. This gold car wasn’t Deb’s parents’, though.

The company didn’t arrive till around 10 PM, but I knew they were coming beforehand due to both common sense and seeing the front light on over there. The jeep didn’t leave till some time between 5 AM-9 AM. From midnight to 3:00 I woke up naturally a couple of times cuz of the stress of it being the weekend. At 3:00 we were both rudely woken up by some fuck’s tires screeching around the corner. And I had just gotten up to turn the music off two seconds before this happened. So, I didn’t get back to sleep till 5:00 and I had to literally force myself out of bed at 9:00 when I could’ve easily slept till noon at the very least. Tonight and Monday night will just compound my tiredness till I’m a total deadbeat cuz I won’t sleep any better the next two nights. I hope I can catch up on my sleep by going to bed earlier on Tuesday. I’ll need 12 hours of sleep after this weekend’s over!

Anyway, the gold car left at 10:00 this morning. Some dude and a boy of about eight took off in it. Can you imagine your father, but in this case the guy was Mexican and 40-something so he was probably the kid’s grandfather, bringing you to visit someone who’s got 30 people infesting the little house overnight? Just why do all these people that come to visit on the weekend have to stay till sunup? I mean, I know most Mexicans rise with the sunset and crash with the sunrise, but that’s still so weird! They probably get too stoned or drunk to drive, too. What does Deb do? Tell them to try to find a spot to sleep on the floor amongst the 30-40 sleeping bodies?

I just wish that fat lazy bitch would go somewhere else on weekends, but no. The only reason I can think of that the Mexicans and blacks did/do everything here is that aside from badgering me, most Mexicans and blacks have apartments, and they know they can get away with carrying on like a bunch of wild freaks easier in a house.

Thank God we have about 20 days left here!!!!!!!!

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 4, 1999 Tom told me earlier he’d like to “get together” today. So he got the yard work out of the way, ate and digested, and now he’s in the shower. I’m sure he’s relieving himself too, but fine. Whatever turns him on and makes him happy.

Later…

Tom’s out doing errands now.

We screwed, and this time it was a bit uncomfortable cuz I accidentally used too much KY so he ended up flying in there a wee bit too fast. I want to see if there’s some other brand that’s waterier and not so sticky. He said Vagisil makes lubricant so I’ll check out theirs. I don’t need the stickiness as an extra source of birth control cuz he’s my birth control. As long as he doesn’t cum and God doesn’t want us having a kid, I should never get pregnant. I haven’t yet, so I know I won’t and am not worried about it.

Later…

Tom said he was up till 11:30 last night and he didn’t hear a peep out of next door. Yeah, I’m not surprised now that we know we’ll be out of here real soon. Monday’s still gonna be filled with hours of antics, and Tuesday we’ll be picking up after the fucking party.

The blue pickup is visiting now.

I can’t believe I slept longer last night yet I’m still on a schedule! I fell asleep a couple of hours earlier last night cuz the night before I only slept 5 hours.

I just organized the list of stuff we want for the new house. Soon we’ll have to go to a few different types of furniture stores to see what’s out there. We’ll probably do that tomorrow.

Tom said he wouldn’t mind it if Kim alone visited or if she visited with a guy. I think that would be great. However, we only have one guest room and don’t want a lot of people staying at the house no matter where we live, so if she comes with more than one person, they need to stay in a hotel. I’ll tell her all this too, of course.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 3, 1999 Last night at around 8:30, while Tom was in the living room and I was in the bedroom, we heard music that was between soft and medium, but neither of us could say for sure if it was next door. When I looked out, I saw a silver car that I don’t think I’ve seen before but it left while I was listening to music and while Tom was dead to the world, so I can’t say for sure if it was that car.

It was actually a bit chilly when I went out early to dump some recyclables, and it’s only the beginning of September.

Andy left a message saying that although he has been doing more things lately, he’s not very happy. He’s puking every day from nerves. Then he should stop stuffing himself if he’s got a nervous stomach. Making a pig of himself on top of a nervous stomach isn’t very smart. It’s not a very good combination - nerves and a lot of food.

He also acknowledges that the way he feels is his fault since he chose not to work much throughout 1999 and that he’s lonely and feeling lost in life. I feel bad for him, cuz I’ve got a damn good feeling that this is how he’ll always feel. Sadly, I seriously believe he’s destined to live life feeling nothing but lost and lonely. And he calls God his friend?

Later…

Today’s one of those days the pickup’s gonna be here. Do I think Deb or Chester are working? I’m not sure, but I doubt it. If one of them is working, it’s probably Chester. I doubt the city and welfare will cut Deb off till her last kid’s on its own and that last kid probably won’t be born till she’s 45, which means they probably won’t cut her till she’s around retirement age, so then she can turn right around and collect social security to live off of. I know how these Mexicans operate. Girls are encouraged to start breeding upon starting their periods, and they keep having babies up till menopause so they can collect welfare while they’re under 65, then turn around and collect SS. That way they don’t ever have to work. It’s sick! Do these people feel they deserve nothing better? Do they really have so little self-respect? Do they always want to live life scraping pennies? Are those welfare checks really worth it? Or wouldn’t they rather work so they don’t have to struggle so much to make ends meet? If they’d just stop having so many damn kids, they’d have a shot at having a life and getting a good career going, but nope. They’d just rather let themselves be bogged down with kids so they have no life other than kids and welfare. Guess that’s all they’re good for. That’s all sick fucks like next door who don’t give a damn about anyone but themselves deserve too, as far as I’m concerned.

Later…

How can they call the 80s the “me” decade when every decade before the 80s, the 90s, and all the decades to come will be just as loaded with selfish people? A good 85% of the population is selfish. Always have been, always will be.

We got approved for more than we thought we would as far as the loan goes, so that’s good.

I can’t believe we have just three more weekends left here! This Labor Day weekend, though, is gonna be a nightmare. They’re not just gonna have car stereos banging in and out, but there’ll be hours and hours of music blaring from the house. They just have to make a scene and be such attention-getters! They have to make everything a public affair! I can’t believe, though, that the ranchero hasn’t been around for about a week, but it’ll definitely be here tonight. By Saturday or Sunday night at the latest. I’ll be under the fan and music for damn sure, cuz I’m not gonna be forcefully invited to their fucking party. I shouldn’t have to know about it if they want to party and be forced to be involved. I don’t want to know they exist! Can’t these fucks go to someone else’s party somewhere else? No, of course not! Everything’s gotta be done here. Typically, Labor Day parties go from the early afternoon till the late afternoon, but I’ll bet you anything they’ll party till around midnight, give or take an hour or two. Don’t these fucks ever get sick of each other?!

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 2, 1999 It still pisses me off that no matter how hard I diet, I can never be under 110 pounds. Like I said, as soon as I hit down at 108-109, I stop shitting and am back to at least 110 in a couple of days cuz of it. My body just totally rejects the idea of being under 110. So even though I’d rather work at getting to 100, I have to work at staying at the 110-marker so I don’t get constipated.

Tom went to those award ceremonies Tuesday, and is one of the top 10 out of 500 to get an award for his great work! He deserves it after all the hours they’ve made a slave of him.

Later…

I’m kind of bored right now. I did the laundry, did some writing, and did some reading, but there’s only so much of these things I can do. There’s just not much to do till we move and I can really concentrate on story-writing, among other things.

Tom’s mom’s going to Michigan to stay with her sister for 4-5 days. Mary’s gonna accompany her.

I can’t say I’m too shocked that next door’s been pretty mellow since the ranchero blasted in last Tuesday cuz of the offer we got. I’m not saying people didn’t bang in and out that I didn’t hear, or that I won’t hear any more from them while we’re here, but I don’t expect to be hearing that much from them now that we’re moving. Labor Day will be a circus, but other than that, God knows we’re moving, so you know how he is with neighbors right before I move. He usually tones them down at the last minute. Anyway, sometimes the cream pickup is on the street all day, sometimes it’s not. I’ve seen the red car a few times and the blue pickup once.

I’ve noticed a pattern - that things seem to have a better chance of working out for me the second time around. Not only did the Nicorette work for me the second time around, but so did the Melatonin. Makes me wonder if God would allow me to conceive if I started trying to again if I wanted a kid again someday, cuz if I’m not worthy of that in his eyes by now, I never will be. I better hope I stay not wanting a kid, though, cuz that’d make me feel all the angrier at God if I tried again after coming so far only to be denied that again. That’d make me feel all the more that he hated me and was controlling me and punishing me for some reason. Even if he would OK it, Tom wouldn’t. You can’t conceive with a guy who almost never cums, and who cums at the wrong time only. At least that’s the way it’s been since I stopped wanting a kid. Just think, deep down, he had to have been thrilled when I stopped wanting a kid, not that he’d ever come out and say so. Therefore, he took my change of desire to his advantage so he could practically quit cumming altogether.

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 1, 1999 Here I am, so swamped with stuff to write about that I don’t know if I can remember everything I wanted to write.

I’ve been living here for 6 years today.

Let me cover Monday’s happenings before getting to yesterday’s.

Andy finally called. He was in San Francisco for a while attending Juliet’s wedding. Also, an example of how he doesn’t listen well - he said he was glad we got that $83,500 offer when we were only asking for $65,000. Didn’t I tell him it was the other way around? That we were asking $85,000 and thought we’d have to cut the price down to around $65,000? Then he says we could give him $5,000 and not even miss it. Not true. We need all the money we can get. Just because someone’s not exactly poor doesn’t mean they don’t have plans for their money or their money tied up.

He also said he hasn’t yet listened to the beginning of the story I started (I left him a message reading him the beginning) cuz he wants to wait till he can concentrate (he means he wants to wait till he’s sober), but that it sounded like I was reading from a book and that I used words he’s never heard before. Then he can go ahead and erase the message cuz he already answered my question. If it sounded like I was reading from a book, then maybe my story will be good enough in the end if I can ever finish it and literally have a book. As for using words he’s never heard of - wow, cuz he was the one, along with Tom, who really helped me expand my vocabulary.

Tom said there’s this brand-new thing I hope we can find someday that sounds totally awesome. The decorative plates I have, well, you can’t eat from those or put them in dishwashers or stuff like that. Now, though, they have paints that you can use to paint your own plates that you can wash and eat off of!

Monday, we went to Trails End Realty and put $500 down on the first 10-acre lot we saw that I felt that instant “we’re home” vibe on. What’s even more ironic is how the view fits my vision almost to a T which I told Tom about. I told him I could only see one house from the back of the house and nothing on the sides and the front, and that’s exactly the case. It won’t last long, though. People are gonna take advantage of the fact that we’re having the power strung right in that area and use it for themselves. I know God will bring in more people and houses and noise just as soon as I get there, but I don’t think it can come close to how noisy it can get around here. It also figures that the land next to us was broken up into 4 pieces, which means that although they can’t usually afford it, thank God, we could end up with 4 huge Mexican families on the 10-acre lot next to us, but Tom insists that we have nothing to worry about as far as noise goes. He says the properties are too big for there to be a problem with that like it can be here since here, they put 6 houses to an acre. Well, we’ll see, but I still say that if God finally lets me live my life without neighbors included in it, he’ll just go and do something else. There’ll be some new ongoing issues that I’ll have to deal with, but I may not mind the change of pace if it’s not too bad of an issue to deal with, cuz 8 years of dealing with neighbors’ noise and their bullshit is more than enough.

I’ve gone back to Tic-Tacs since I can have them after all. It just took me time to get used to sucking on something I couldn’t feel on the roof of my mouth. I gotta have some kind of vice, though, since I can’t chew gum with the retainers, don’t smoke, and don’t want to have a million cups of coffee a day even if it’s decaf.

Later…

Tom got in and we discussed some of the house’s options, then he went to bed. He’s pretty beat with all that’s been going on, but not as beat as he was last week.

Ciara arrived yesterday, sooner than I expected! She’s gorgeous. She’s very hard to describe, but let’s just say she’s huge. Her upper arm’s bigger than my wrist. Her powder blue dress is beautiful with sequins, pearls, lace, chiffon, bugle beads and satin. If people saw my dolls and didn’t know any better, they’d think my favorite color was light blue! Anyway, the floral lace hem at the bottom is gorgeous, and she’s got 3-4 layers on counting the stiff net-like stuff that’s underneath to make the gown flare out. I don’t know what it is, but there’s this icy glaze over the surface of the satiny part that’s really nice. She has lace gloves that the hands stick out of that are of the same lace that makes up the hem of her dress.

She came with a pearl necklace and pearl drop earrings that you’re supposed to stick straight in the holes drilled in the earlobes, but they kept slipping out so I had to glue them in. Her earlobes are part of the head and not separate where you can grab both sides of them like with a person, so I couldn’t simply bend the earrings and hook them in. Her dangling pearl earrings are similar to Summer Dream’s.

She has a pretty hairpiece shaped almost like a halo that’s made of pearls and lace, but I’m not using it cuz it doesn’t stay on very well, and it doesn’t look as nice as how I have it now. I have the sides pulled back and the rest loose. Her dark blond hair is curly and I decided not to straighten it.

Her aqua-blue eyes are runner-up between all my dolls as far as realism goes.

It was a bitch trying to figure out how her stand works since it’s different from any other stand I have. At first, I thought it was just the always-a-problem-with-dolls-I-get problem I had to deal with and that they forgot to ship the part of the stand that catches her at the waist, but that’s not how she stands. You shove a rod up her crotch, then screw it into her round stand which is almost as round in diameter as an old 12” album.

I left off her pantaloons, which are as long as my arms. For two reasons - they’re not necessary since you can’t see them anyway, and because I couldn’t figure out how to get them on over the stand.

Her shoes could fit a 3-year-old. The only thing that makes no sense is why they put girl socks and girl shoes on this obvious woman doll. She not only has a woman’s face, but she has tits girls don’t have. She’s soft-bodied from just under the tits to her shins. Besides, socks and shoes like she’s wearing (not that you can see them under her gown) don’t go with her dazzling fancy dress. I’d put her in stockings and heels, not socks and girl’s shoes.

Her face, which is just average, looks better in person than on TV. I definitely got her mainly for her dress and height. I see a slight resemblance to Juice Newton when I look at her from certain angles.

Her head moves, and her arms do, too. Her arms move front and back, but not at the sides. They do move in and out a little, but that’s only to give it flexibility when you’re dressing/undressing the doll. They don’t stay that way, though. Once you let go, it goes right back to where it was. I thought it looked better with one arm in a little more towards the body, so I stuck a bead in her shoulder socket to keep it in. They tend to have a doll’s arms stick out too much away from the body. Also, I like how the head’s attached at the top of the neck, rather than at the bass as with Bailey and Maria. It’s less noticeable at the top.

She also came with a little purse that matches her dress. It’s got a long pearl strap so you can hang it from her shoulder, but I chose to wrap the pearl strap around her hand and have the purse dangling from her hand.

She’s number 99 out of 300.

They sent me a complimentary scarf with dull neutral colors, but I’ll keep it anyway. I also got a card for subscribing to doll magazines, but I opted not to do that. After I get the rest of the dolls I want, I don’t want to be seeing more gorgeous dolls that I can’t get till there’s extra money for that again.

Tom set things up so I don’t have any claims to the new house/property, even though we both know it’s our place so that if he dies, I could just take the $50,000 of life insurance and get out of there without any responsibilities holding me there. That’s very sweet of him, but I meant it when I said that if he died, I’d die. Where would I go? How would I live? And even if I could stay at the house with a million dollars and live just fine, I wouldn’t want to. I won’t live if he can’t, whether or not we’re rich or poor.

I’m on my third page here and I’m still not done. I still have to write about the home inspection they did yesterday, but I’ll do it later.

Later…

This sucks. I’ve been recording 80s stuff all day and they haven’t played one good song that I don’t already have.

Anyway, the home inspection was more involved than I thought it’d be. I thought just one person would come out and breeze in and out of the house in ten minutes, but instead, the H’s realtor came to the house with two inspectors. The H’s are the people buying this house, by the way. Their names are on some of the forms Steven sent us. Along with the Realtor and the two inspectors, the H's came to the house with a friend of theirs. So, there were a lot of people here yesterday.

I don’t know what the results of the inspection will be, which was done by two guys in their late 40s-early 50s. They were nice, though. Especially the one with the German accent.

I was surprised the buyers were here, but Tom said that that was good. They should be here to know what’s going on so that they don’t have any questions in the future. I guess Steven’s gonna contact us about it sometime next week. Tom’s nervous about it, but I’m not, even though perhaps I should be. I mean, this is where God could really get us. He could really mess with our plans and make our lives miserable if he wanted to. If he’s gonna do this I suppose now would be the time to, but I’d like to think and hope that he wouldn’t be that mean to us after how long and hard we’ve worked to get out of here and into where we’re going, even if we do have to stay in an apartment for a month or two on our way there. Maybe I’m not nervous cuz I don’t have a bad vibe. I don’t vibe the H’s backing out. They seem too eager to move in here, and I’d think I’d sense it if they were gonna back out on us. Also, why would I get such a strong home vibe on that land if it weren’t meant to be ours? Just because I wished it could be? I don’t think so. I think it was more than just wishful thinking.

Also, the H’s seem very easy-going and easy to please. They don’t strike me as the type to make serious demands, changes, or additions that we’ll have to negotiate. We’ll see, though.

Ms. H and I talked yesterday and she is one of the nicest people I ever met that you just feel instantly comfortable with. Good looking too, although not fantasy kind of good looking. She looks great and is in excellent shape for being in her 40s. I’m sure it’s the result of never having kids unless she has kids that are on their own since she said it’ll just be her, her new husband, and his dad who’ll be having hip surgery, who was one of the few that stayed skinny after having kids. However, she strikes me as the classic woman whose right to have kids was stolen from her. She totally strikes me as the type who loves kids and who wanted them, but I’ll bet you anything she could never have kids. Why she never adopted, beats me, but maybe she did and they’re already on their own.

Anyway, I asked her if she worked out (even her handshake was firm and bone-crunching) and she said she swims a lot at the house she and and her husband are now renting. Also, this is their first house.

When they told me they have 3 dogs, I no longer felt so bad for them having to be next to a pack of wild freeloaders, cuz if you can stand 3 dogs that are no doubt gonna be out back barking non-stop, you should be able to stand music and other things. They do seem pretty easy-going and tolerable to me. I’m still glad, nonetheless, that no one banged in next door while they were here. Let them get introduced to and acquainted with next door’s shit after we move.

I guess Mr. H grew up in Sunny Slope and Ms. H is from Texas. What a nice Texan. Usually, they’re prejudiced, conceited snobs like Donna and Rosemarie were from the Vista. Texans hate everyone. The only thing they do right is killing their violent offenders.

Anyway, she admired Ciara, said she had braces too, and that her mom died. Maybe that’s why they’re suddenly buying a house and can afford to put a $23,000 deposit down like they said they would. They must’ve inherited some dough.

She asked me why the electric bill was so high. I just said I keep the AC cranked up all the time, but Tom told me later that it’s not high. Whatever.

She asked me what I liked best about the house. The truth is - none of it, but I told her the pool.

To get an idea of just how serious they are about moving in here, I asked her if she was excited about moving in and she nodded yes with a big grin, so I guess that and my vibes answer that.

She thought Ratsy was so cute, but I stopped her from patting him before he could bite her like he does with Tom. She thought the mice were cute too, and says, “So the place has mice.” Ha, ha!

The thing that had Tom and I baffled was how Mr. H was boasting about this being a great neighborhood. How does he know that if he grew up in Sunny Slope? Well, he’s gonna be very disappointed when he finds out that his lazy, inconsiderate freeloader neighbors can be so loud and messy.

[disturbedbeautywrites]

I know you didn’t have bad intentions, I just wanted you to make you aware so that no one skips out on your writing because of the font. I found your account through TG:M but no rush. I know it must be time consuming to change.

Okay! I will try and get it fixed for you either today or tomorrow! I have the days off so it’ll be easier. Keep checking back and I’ll make a post once it’s done so you can hopefully read the writings. Thank you for letting me know, I will get it fixed for you! 💚💜

[thundergoodspeed]

ofgalaxiesandstars​:

“The monster– er, shadows will be able to see it as a dagger. My weapons are specifically crafted to fight them.” Gabe sheathed his dagger again, “I have a bow too, for long range. Until I can get a better fitting prosthetic, that’s probably what I’ll be stuck with. Either way, I’m armed. I’m fine.”

Haruki frowned, not really understanding the whole Mist thing. Still, he didn’t argue anymore on the topic.

Zao sat forward, “Tomorrow. We wont be infiltrating the palace more than once a day, the metaverse is too draining. So, for today just rest up, and keep an eye on Breaker. Haruki did some healing to his heart, so hopefully he’ll be able to fight Darkness off until we can get this done.” He frowned, “Don’t tell him about the palace, though. He knows what the Metaverse is– he’s actually been in his own palace before, but…”

He hesitated. Breaker had tried to kill his own shadow in the last palace. He doubted the man would try that again, but he wasn’t sure. If it meant taking down Darkness, he had a feeling Breaker would do anything. He took a breath, looking up again, “He might not take it well.”

“Well, you’re in the right family for prosthetics,” Jon pointed out.

Ryuji glanced over, pondering Gabe’s leg for a moment. “You can check my old one,” he offered. “See if it’ll fit better. It might not be perfect, but if it’s better, you can borrow it until you get one made.

Little Cato made a face. “Man, I have school tomorrow,” he said. “I was all excited to try Earth school, but now it’s getting in the way of important stuff.”

“The Phantom Thieves tended to go after school in the first year of operations, anyway,” Jon pointed out. “Mostly to not draw suspicion, though I don’t think that’s much of an issue here, except to Breaker. You have to keep up on your studies, though. But this Palace shouldn’t take much more than a few visits.” He looked up at Zao. “So, when should we make the deadline?”

[inkykeiji]

<3

[wacknroll]

Ya like glitter glue?! PT 5

(Yandere Sun/Moon x reader)

I finally got around to making this chapter! Enjoy!

PT 1, PT 2, PT3, PT 4

AO3 link

Word count: 2496

---

“Sorry, I’m unable to answer the phone right now. Please leave a message after the beep.”

Beep.

Fuck, you think to yourself. You’ve tried to call Brent this entire morning, hoping to tell him that you can’t work today. Having another restless night, dreading going back to work, made you realise that you should just put your foot down and either refuse to work or get them to finally fix that animatronic.

Still hopeful, you give his phone another call. With each ring of the phone, your chest feels tighter.

“Hello?”

“Brent, it’s me, Y/n,” you say, the tightest in your chest finally gone.

“Is there something you need?” He asks.

“Yes. I can’t come to work today,” you start.

There is silence for a moment before Brent speaks, as if he was waiting for you to elaborate.

“Why not?”

You sigh.

“Listen, Brent,” you sigh. “Sun is getting weirder every day. First, he stole my keys, then he left a box with freaky letters in it, and now he’s just acting weird in general! Hell, I started getting weird text messages from Tim’s phone, and I think it might be from Sun or Moon. I don’t know anymore.” The words tumble from your mouth, not giving Brent even a moment to get a word in sideways. Once you finish what you say, you hear a sigh.

“Kid,” he begins. You knew he was probably rubbing his eyes now. “I’ll arrange for the maintenance check today, okay? If it’ll put you at ease, I’ll do it.”

“Yes, it most definitely would.”

“Good. Well, I’ll let you know when it’s done. See you tomorrow.”

“See you.” With that you hang up.

Sighing, you lay back into your couch and close your eyes. Taking another day off this week felt weird to you, but you refused to go back to work until they finally did something. You’re just relieved Brent didn’t decide to just fire you and have someone else take over the morning shifts in the day-care. Hopefully now everything will just go back to normal. Maybe they’ll even bring back naptime with Moon now that they’ve fixed him.

---

Brent dials in the number for the Parts and Service tea.

“Hello?”

“Hi, this is Brent from management. I got a complaint about the day-care attendant and I’ll need you to come and grab it for some tuning.”

“Will do. We’ll grab it in about 20 minutes.”

“Thanks.”

---

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Apparently, it’s been glitching or something, broke a kid’s arm at some point. Also, someone higher up wanted to give it some new upgrades too, so we’ll just do everything at once. Now get into the chamber for the manual work, kid.”

The mechanic in question points to themselves.

“Me? Didn’t you just say he broke a kid’s arm like a twig? Last time I checked, we have to turn off safety mode to do this.”

The older mechanic chuckles and gives them a pat on the back.

“Why do you think we get paid the most here? Now do your job.” The senior one moves back to the console and opens the cylinder chamber where the animatronic resides.

With that, the younger one groans and gets to work.

---

Yesterday was the most normal day you’ve day this week. No weird text messages and no glitching robot.

“Today better be the same,” you whisper to yourself as you enter the Pizzaplex. Risking another day off would certainly lose you your only job.

“Rock on, cool cat.”

You see that one of the animatronics, Montgomery Gator is in the lobby today.

Probably ready to sign autographs once the children enter, you think.

“Right back at you. Um. Reptile?” You greet him, unsure what type of 80’s themed slang to use. With that, you continue to walk up the steps and enter the side door to the day-care area.

As you enter the day-care, you go straight to the front desk area.

“Hello, buddy!” You hear. Before you have a chance to respond, you’re lift into a hug. You couldn’t mistake this for another animatronic but Sun.

“Ah! Sun! You spooked me there, buddy!” You reply. “Can you please put me down now though?”

“Oh right, SILLY me!” With that, Sun plops you back down onto your feet and lets you go. “What do we have planned for today, partner? Any parties or maybe another race? Don’t tell Roxy, she might get jealous of all the FUN we’re going to have! Oh, I know! We could invite her to play with us too!” He continues.

“She’ll probably be too busy, seeing as she’s probably going to be performing all day. Besides, I have two birthday parties today anyways,” you inform him. Having Sun and Roxanne Wolf in the same room would not be the best idea. The wolf would definitely get competitive with the racing, you think.

“You’re right! I forgot that they’re busy bots! Anyways,” he starts, spinning his head for emphases. "Are we going to have cake? I love cake!”

Sun continues to talk, but the words drown out as you have a sense of déjà vu.

“Hello? Sun to Y/n? Hello!” He waves his hands in your face to get your attention.

“Oh, sorry, Sun! I was just thinking, was all. Were you asking me something?” You say, snapping out of your trance.

“I asked if there is going to be cake!”

“Let me look.” You go over to the computer and check through it. “Ah, there is going to be cake this time. Looks like we’ll have to sort out a little table for the day so the children can eat.”

“Oh yippee!” Sun claps his hands in excitement at the news.

With that, Sun and you set up the play area, so it includes a small sitting area in the corner, set up right in front of the security desk in the left corner.

---

The beginning of the day starts off slow, but at about 11 am is when more children start to show up, including an entire group of them for the first birthday party. Thankfully, the two parties were planned at different times, one having cake at 12 pm and the other at 2 pm. There was even a Freddy themed piñata.

“Look, Y/n! The cake is here!” Sun calls to you, waving his arm high into the air for your attention.

You give him a short raise of your hand in response and continue to write up the report you were asked to type out. When you looked through the computer that morning, you noticed any email asking you to report Sun’s behaviour and functionality for the day so they can assess how he is going after his tuning. So far, he was acting the same as he usually does with the children around, you observed. Of course, you wouldn’t let Sun know about any of this. Hell, you weren’t even sure he remembers being taken to parts and service, as the animatronic has mentioned nothing outside of his desire to play.

“Y/n!” Sun’s voice calls you from just in front of the desk area. You see that he is holding out a paper plate with a slice of cake and a wooden spoon. “I got you some CAKE! It’s chocolate.” He says the last word in a sing song voice, placing the plate right onto the top panel of the desk for you to grab.

“Oh, thank you, Sun,” you say. Grabbing the plate, you place it next to you.

“No worries, friend!” Sun then reaches over the desk and gives you a small pat on the head. “My buddy needs something for all the hard work they’ve been doing after all! ANYWAYS! I have some painting to do now!” With that, the animatronic leaves you be.

---

About another hours passes before the afternoon shift shows up. By then, you already eaten the cake, mostly egged on by Sun as he showed up 10 minutes later and saw that you haven’t yet touched the cake.

“Hello!” James greets you. He then jumps into the chair besides you. “Do I have you to thank for the day off yesterday, hm?”

“Yeah, I rang Brent and basically refused to show up until he actually did something,” you reply. Though Sun wasn’t close by, you still decided to vaguely mention the topic.

“Oh? Well, that’s pretty daring of you to do. I bet Brent wasn’t happy that he had to actually do something besides putting duct tape over it,” James jokes.

“Not wrong there,” you snort. Though you got along with Brent most of the time, in the end he was your manager and he’d most likely put the company before of you if he really had to.

James looks at your empty place and frowns.

“You had cake without me? The betrayal.” He then dramatically wipes at an imaginary tear.

“Don’t get sad now. There is going to be another birthday party in an hour. You’ll get you cake.”

“I better,” James grumbles. “Any who… Go take your lunch break already! I want you back before they arrive.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice. But first, we need to go through hand over.” With that, you give James the daily run down over which child is asthmatic or has allergies and which inhaler or EpiPen belongs to who. The last thing you need is an allergic reaction or asthmatic attack to happen during your break.

“Okay now go!” The man half jokes half demands.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m leaving!” Standing up from your seat, you quickly head out.

---

Because of James now working with you, you decided that you’ll take your lunch breaks in the day-care staff room. Besides him, there wasn’t really anyone else you’d go to the main area staff room for. The room was mostly empty for your break, with one or two people from the morning shift in different areas of the day-care showing up.

When you returned back to the play area, you got the run down from James who told you nothing has really happened yet.

“No, no, no! That is not for eating!” You hear Sun, sounding slightly distressed. Turning to him, you see that the lanky animatronic is gently trying to pull a bottle of glitter glue from the hands of a 4-year-old girl.

You decide that he might need a second hand with it and walk over. Once reached, you crouch to be eye level with the child, who is now looking directly at you.

“Sweetheart, do you mind if I have some? It looks tasty!” You ask. The girl gives a wide smile, face covered in dried glue and glitter all over her cheeks and chin. She then nods and hands you the bottle.

“Ta!” She gleefully yells.

“Ta, thank you so much!” You smile at her and pick up the glitter glue from her sticky hands. “Now, we should get you cleaned up, is that okay with you?”

“Yes!” She says, giving you a big smile.

Before you have the opportunity to stand back up and get some wipes, Sun is handing you a box. A little surprised, as you never heard him leave nor come back, you grab the wipes and clean the girl’s face. Once done, you stand up, taking both the box of wipes and bottle of glue with you.

“Oh, you’re so good with our friends, Y/n!” Sun praises, giving you a small clap of applause. He follows you as you walk back to the desk.

“It was nothing. I figured I could give you some help, is all,” you laugh, not to use to the praise.

“It was not nothing at all, buddy! You’re a superstar with the little ones! I don’t know why you’ve only started working here!” He continues.

“Well, it won’t be for much longer. I got one more day of this and then your usual buddy will be back!”

Sun stops dead in his tracks,

“You’re… leaving?” The way he speaks is calm, you don’t register that it was him talking for a moment as it sounds different from his usual tone of voice.

You stop your walking as well and turn to him.

“Yeah, I am only the temporary relief. I might do some more shifts in the future though,” you add.

Sun continues to look at you, as if waiting for you to say more. After about 10 seconds of this silence, he turns back around and skips over to some children playing with block.

You feel déjà vu once again, but this time it makes you really anxious. You try to reason that he’s fixed now, but the way he acted just now reminds you too much of how he was the other day.

“You writing a book in your head right now, or?” You jump a little at James voice.

“Fiddlesticks, James! Don’t just sneak up on someone like that!” You give him a little slap on the shoulder.

“Fiddlesticks? That’s a new one.”

“We’re surrounded by children under 10, dude, The last thing I need is a parent complaining about how some of their kids are cursing now,” you deadpan at him.

“Fair point,” he says, giving a small shrug of his shoulders. “Anyways, we have another cake to set up for birthday party number 2. And I got some cake to eat as well,” he quickly adds.

---

The last hours of your shift go pretty fast. The second birthday party keeps you busy, so you don’t realise that it’s the end of your shift until you after you get back to the desk and look at the time on the computer.

“Damn. Well, time to go, I guess,” you tell James, who is enjoying his slice over his cake.

“Damn indeed,” he says with a mouth full of cake.

“Didn’t your mother teach you manners?” You ask.

Swallowing the food in his mouth, he looks you directly in the eyes.

“No.”

You roll your eyes at the response. Looking around, the children that are still around look tired, the few still full of energy are playing around in the ball pit. You notice that Sun is nowhere in sight. Frowning at that, you wonder where the animatronic went to.

Shaking your head, you decide to just grab your stuff.

“See you tomorrow, Jay,” you tell the man. He waves to you and says something indistinguishable, his mouth once again full of cake. “Yeah, you too!” You reply back with.

Walking out of the play area, you walk up the steps and to the front entrance of the day-care. The area was currently empty, which wasn’t too unheard of in the afternoons. Continuing your walk towards the front lobby, you pay no mind to the noise behind you, assuming it was someone else leaving the day-care area.

Before you could even react, your world all of a sudden goes black.

TAG LIST: @theilluminatidragonqueen @ruleroftheforest05 @yandematic @self-shipping-freak @esseegg @nabaronniandcheese @fandom-garbage @kookichyzp @gamergalcmc @softeststuffies @mordi-cai @happynightmareland @teenageeggsbandittree @aprilisadork @midnightmoi @rea-is-here @astro-vamp @justanotherfangirl0w0 @bigenderslutfortankman @pearldagoat @tiredturbulence @iwannadieaaa @doppiosloving-wife20 @romano-boi

Unfortunately, Tumblr won't let me tag some of you.

[ayybtch]

Bread

Wanda Maximoff x f!Reader, Baker!AU + Friends to Lovers

Chapter 5 of Made With Love

Word Count: 3,292

Chapter Warnings: Our two favorite idiots are so blind it’s not even funny, lots of yearning, some brief mentions of alcohol consumption towards the end

A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for being patient with me on getting this posted. School and work have been crazy, but I’m almost done for the semester so hopefully it won't be as long for the next update. Shout out to my Grandma for sending me her paprikash recipe so I would actually know what I was talking about for this chapter. We literally never speak but she did me a real solid on this one and I will be adding paprikash into my regular cooking schedule once fall hits. Full disclosure though, I literally Googled “What wine pairs with chicken paprikash” and the wines mentioned are what it gave me. Please let me know what you think! I love reading your guys’s comments, it really makes my day.

Hey, so everyone is going to be out on a mission tomorrow night except for me. Any chance I can cash in on that raincheck? There’s a Bewitched marathon happening.

You smiled at Wanda’s message, quickly typing out your response. Definitely! Would you like to join me for bread day tomorrow?

She responded almost immediately. YES!

You couldn’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm. She had been wanting to make bread ever since the two of you made snickerdoodles. She brought it up almost constantly, mostly as a joke to get back at you for all of the times you teased her about it.

Up to this point, Wanda refused to accept any of your attempts to say thank you for helping you out through the cupcake debacle, saying that this was the sort of thing that friends were for. It only felt right that this should be the next thing to bake as your own special way of saying thank you.

As excited as you were to spend time with her and teach her how to do this, you couldn’t help but feel incredibly nervous at the same time. Why had Wanda decided to share her sexuality with you after all this time?

Okay, scratch that. You understood why she shared it with you when she did. The real question is what to do with the information now that you had it.

Was it just a general knowledge sort of a deal? Or was this her way of trying to say she was interested?

You groaned and put your head in your hands. This is why you hadn’t dated someone since your last relationship ended. You needed big flashing lights that screamed “I want to date you!” before you’d catch on, and even that didn’t work sometimes. If someone tried to be subtle, you were an absolute lost cause. You did your best to recall every interaction you had with Wanda that could even remotely be considered as her flirting or expressing interest.

She did smile at you a lot, even more than she smiled at Sam and Bucky who she clearly adored. She also certainly didn’t shy away from physical contact and had even initiated it several times. She had also remembered your coffee and bagel order from the one random time it came up weeks ago...

Suddenly, everything started to add up. All of those glances that had left your heart racing, all of those little touches...maybe Wanda was interested in you?

Your heart felt ready to burst out of your chest with joy.

Wanda didn’t arrive at the bakery until almost noon. The majority of the bread had been baked already; the only bread left to make was hers.

The two of you said your hello’s and caught up a bit as she stepped in to put on her apron and began washing her hands. Once the conversation slowed, you started your rundown for today’s bake.

“Bread is actually a lot easier than it looks but there are a couple of points we’re going to need to be careful at. I’ll remind you about them as we go about but I figured it would be good to have them all in your head now.

“We’re going to be very conscientious about temperatures this entire bake in a way we haven’t really needed to before. When we’re dealing with the yeast, we need the milk around 110 to 115o so the yeast activates properly. We also want things to be warm during the rise times, which shouldn’t be too much of an issue given the ovens have been on most of the day. Once it’s in the oven, we aren’t going to mess with it at all until the last couple minutes and that’s only if we need it to brown further.”

Wanda nodded along as you spoke. “I don’t know how much of an actual problem this is because you’re here, but I always hear a lot about overworking or underworking the dough. How do I know if it’s been kneaded enough?”

“Ah, good question! If the dough keeps getting really flat and not holding its shape, it’s underworked. If the dough is overworked, it gets kind of hard and not easy to work with. The good news is that we’re kneading by hand since it’s your first time and it’s a lot less likely to happen that way than in a mixer.”

She looked unconvinced but nodded. “Okay, so where do we begin?”

The first fifteen minutes of the bake flew by quickly. The yeast mixture had been prepared and was almost ready for the rest of the ingredients to be mixed in. Wanda was completely in awe at how the mixture looked.

To be fair to her though, the yeast mixture does look very weird if you’re not used to seeing it.

Once the flour, salt, and eggs were mixed in, the true fun began. Everything was mixed just enough to be combined into a rough, sticky ball of dough before being taken out of the mixer and onto the floured counter. Wanda followed along as you sprinkled some flour on your dough and began to knead, doing her best to mirror your motions.

You watched her out of the corner of your eye as you worked the dough, waiting to see what she would do. It was hard to hold back your giggles as you watched her. She was practically just squeezing the dough in different directions. You gave her a few minutes to see if she would work things out, but eventually, you set your dough down and moved closer to her.

“Here, let me help,” you said. Your hands moved so they were on top of hers, you tried guiding her through the motions, only for things to fail miserably.

“Okay, can I try something that might be a little weird? It’s just that I’m not used to kneading at an angle like that so it’s throwing off my muscle memory.”

She nodded and you adjusted yourself so you were now standing behind her. Your arms slid around either side of her waist and your hands rested on top of hers. This time, your hands knew what they were doing and you were able to help guide her through the motion. Even after she got it, you remained standing behind her, your chin resting against her shoulder.

The feelings that washed over you as you stood there with her were hard to describe. There was nothing necessarily comfortable about the position you were in, but your whole body felt more relaxed than it had all day. At the same time though, everything felt electrifying. You hoped she couldn’t feel the way your heart was thumping against your chest.

It wasn’t until you realized Wanda had paused and turned back slightly to face you slightly that you stepped back. An apology rose up in your throat only to die as you noticed the small smile on her face. You shot a smile back at her before moving back to your spot, turning your attention back to the job at hand.

The rest of the bake went smoothly, despite Wanda’s fretting about if the bread was rising enough. It didn’t take long before you had two perfectly round loaves of bread sitting next to each other on the cooling rack. Wanda had not stopped smiling since they came out of the oven. Even though that was her usual response, this time felt different.

For the second time that day, you were left trying to describe impossible feelings. Was it her eyes that felt different? They were lit beautifully, radiating so much joy it was impossible to not feel just as excited. But how was that any different from usual? Her eyes always captivated you and left you breathless. Maybe it was the new shade of pink lipstick she had on. It was perfectly accentuating the shape of her lips, to the point you couldn’t help but wonder what it might be like to feel them pressed against yours.

You may not be able to pinpoint what the look was, all you knew is that you were grateful to be a part of why her smile was so big.

After she finished taking pictures of the loaves, she turned to you. “That was incredible! I had no idea bread could be that simple.”

You nodded along, unable to hold back a smile. “I told you it wasn’t too bad, there are just a couple spots you have to be sure to navigate well. And clearly -” you gestured towards the loaves, “- you did. Maybe I should start worrying about you stealing my job.”

Her laughter filled the kitchen at your teasing.

As her laugher began to die out, her focus turned back on to you. “Okay, so what time were you thinking of coming over? I’m making us dinner and want to try and have it finishing up right around the time you get there.”

You glanced over at the clock and then back to the to-do list written out on the whiteboard above your desk before answering, “I think it’ll probably be close to five if I had to guess. I still have to finish cleaning some stuff here and I promised to go help Charlie work out some menu options for that picnic thing that’s coming up.”

Wanda nodded along, “Are you going to that?”

“I’m working it, so I, unfortunately, don’t have much of a choice.”

She nodded again. “Same here, actually. All of the Avengers are required to be unless there’s some sort of alien invasion again or something…” She trailed off a moment before continuing. “I was planning on making paprikash. Is that okay with you? I don’t know if there’s anything you can’t or don’t like to eat.”

“I’ve actually never had that before so that would be wonderful! I’m pretty easy when it comes to food. The only things I don’t like are mushrooms and zucchini, but I’ll still eat them if I have to.”

Wanda gasped, “You don’t like mushrooms? How do you not like mushrooms?”

You just shrugged, “Okay, I’m actually pretty neutral on mushrooms. I’ll still eat them. I just don’t go out of my way to make them for myself. Zucchini is a firm no, though.”

She gave you a side-eye but relented. “Well, there are no mushrooms or zucchini in this, but just know I’m going to have to keep an eye on you from now on. I don’t know how we’ve made it this far into our friendship without me knowing you’re an anti-mushroom heathen.”

The two of you joked around for a few minutes longer before she left to start preparing for dinner.

Planning the menu with Charlie didn’t take very long, which you were grateful for. He already had a decent idea of what he wanted to do, so the main thing left was to figure out how much food to order to prepare it. The two of you also agreed upon what you needed to make. Most of your responsibilities centered around desserts, specifically pies, though you agreed to make some fresh rolls and soft pretzels as well.

You were thankful for the meeting to end though because it meant the remaining time you had left could be spent getting ready to go see Wanda.

‘Getting ready’ was perhaps a bit dramatic. You were just changing out of your usual work clothes into something a little cuter. It was nothing particularly fancy, but it was an outfit you felt both confident and comfortable in. You had also made sure to pack some toiletries that morning, allowing you to freshen up your deodorant and brush your teeth as well.

As you stepped into the elevator and pressed the button, you couldn’t help but feel a bit jittery. The past few times you’ve made your way to that part of the building you’ve been nervous about the other Avengers not wanting you there. This time though, all of your nerves could be attributed entirely to Wanda. You weren’t sure what to expect of tonight, but you were determined to have a fun night filled with food and good company.

The warm smell of paprika filled the air and made your stomach grumble as soon as you stepped out of the elevator. Once you were inside, you found Wanda in the kitchen, stirring in some additional seasonings.

“This smells incredible,” you said, setting the two loaves of bread down on the counter.

Wanda beamed. “Thanks! This is my great grandmother’s recipe and is one of my favorite things to make.” As she set the spoon down, she walked towards the fridge. “I bought some wine to go along with dinner if you would like some.”

“Yes please, wine sounds amazing right now.”

“I have a chardonnay and a Barolo, which would you prefer?” she asked, turning back towards you.

You shrugged, “Whichever one you want.”

She nodded and pulled out the Barolo. It didn’t take long for the bottle to be opened and to have a glass of wine in your hand.

It wasn’t until you took your first sip that you realized Wanda had also changed. Your breathing hitched as you looked her up and down. Gone were her jeans and old T-shirts, replaced by a pair of cut-off shorts and a stylishly oversized T-shirt. If it weren’t for the fuzzy wool socks on her feet, you’d assume she was camera-ready. Hell, even with the funny socks she was the most beautiful woman you had ever seen.

You realized you were staring and abruptly began looking around the kitchen, trying to find something to do that would take your mind off of how hot Wanda looked. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

Wanda shook her head no. “There’s not really anything to be done, this just needs to simmer for about another five minutes and we’ll be good to go. Why don’t you go have a seat at the table and I’ll be over in just a moment with some bread slices and butter. Once this is ready I’ll bring it in as well.”

You nodded and made your way out of the kitchen and towards the table.

It wasn’t until you were seated that you realized how well the table was set. Both seats had beautiful flatware laid out, with silverware organized neatly to the side. Underneath was a crisp, pure white table cloth. What caught your attention the most though were the two lit candles sitting between your chair and hers. It wasn’t until you noticed the candles that you also noticed the music playing softly in the background.

Everything about the setup screamed ‘fancy first date’.

Before you had much of a chance to dwell on the thought, Wanda arrived with several slices of bread and a small dish of butter. You thanked her before she walked back towards the kitchen. She returned soon after with the pot of paprikash, setting it on the hot pad in the center of the table. She walked around to her seat and soon both of you had your plates filled and began to eat.

It was impossible to hold back a satisfied sigh as you took your first bite. It tasted just as delicious, if not better than it smelled. The chicken was cooked perfectly and all but melted in your mouth. The paprika added a nice rich flavor and added extra depth to the creaminess of the sauce.

“Wanda this is incredible.”

She smiled at you brightly, “If you think it’s good by itself, try dipping the bread with some butter in it.”

You did as she said and this time instead of a satisfied sigh, you let out a satisfied moan. “You are going to have to give me this recipe. This is so good I don’t even know what to say, all I want to do is keep eating.”

Wanda laughed at your enthusiasm. “Tell you what, I’ll teach you how to make it sometime. It’s about time I taught you something in the kitchen.”

Dinner was a blast. The two of you spent more of it laughing and talking than eating. The bottle of Barolo was finished before dinner was done. It didn’t take long before it was replaced by the chardonnay.

Once dinner was over, you fought Wanda to let you help clean up the kitchen. Her argument that guests shouldn’t help was shot down as you pointed out she’s technically a guest in the bakery, yet she always helps clean up after she’s been in there. She grumbled about it but quickly conceded. It didn’t take long for the kitchen to be cleaned up and even less time after that for her to drag you over to the couch.

The first-ever episode of “Bewitched” was halfway finished by the time the two of you had settled into your spots on the couch. Currently, Samantha and Darrin were at his ex-girlfriend's house for a dinner party and the girlfriend was doing everything she could to make Samantha feel inferior. Samantha, of course, wasn’t having it and was willing to fudge her promises of not using magic to level the playing field.

Wanda laughed along perfectly in time with the sitcom track. The more she laughed, the more your attention turned from being on the TV to be on her. This was the most relaxed and happy you had ever seen her. She had a small, almost imperceivable smile that grew as she became more and more emerged into the episode. Each time she laughed, you noticed how her nose would scrunch up in the cutest way and it took everything you had to not lean over and kiss her.

What you wouldn’t give to make her as happy as this show.

It wasn’t until the end credits were about to roll that you forced yourself to look back at the screen, unsure of how she’d respond if she caught you staring.

As the next episode cued up, she reached out and grabbed her glass of wine before turning to face you.“So, what do you think? Could I have been a Samantha in another life?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Definitely, though I can’t see you being willing to hide your powers just because a man wants you to.”

Wanda nearly choked on the sip of wine she had taken. “You got me there.”

She finished the glass and set it back on the table before letting out a loud yawn. “Sorry, I probably should’ve warned you beforehand that wine makes me a little sleepy.” She paused for a moment before she continued, “It also makes me incredibly cuddly…”

A rush of emotions washed over you as you processed her words. Was she asking to come cuddle with you?

The hopeful look in her eye suggested she was.

Pure, unadulterated joy swept over your body and you had to fight the urge to jump up and down from excitement. You did your best to collect yourself before you replied, hoping that the answer was indeed what you were looking for.

“Is that your way of asking if you can come snuggle?”

She smiled at you sheepishly, which made you laugh. You moved over on the couch, moving around some of the throw pillows so you could lay down.

“Well, what are you waiting for then?”

Wanda didn’t hesitate for a moment and soon was laying on top of you, her head resting on your chest. One of your arms wrapped loosely around her back after she settled in.

A comfortable silence fell over you as you laid there together, watching Bewitched until you fell asleep.

[jodilin65]

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 29, 1988 I fell asleep last night right after I finished writing and got up today at 11:00, then went to the Eastfield Mall with Andy. I bought a slice of mushroom pizza and a slice of cheese pizza for Andy, cuz he bought me pizza when he came over the last time.

Before we went to the mall, we went to Main St. Records, and the guy there gave me $5 for some records I sold him.

We once again ran into Bill F at the mall. We had run into him before at the Holyoke Mall. I met him when I was in a foster home.

After we were done I had Andy drop me off at Store 24 where I bought milk, bread and a few other things to hold me over till I go to Food Mart Tuesday with Phil. Thank God I have plenty of cigarettes till I get paid cuz all I have left is a few dollars.

Monday I’ll get my $50 back after I identify Nellie on film after she swiped a check from me, the motherfucker! How dumb of me to trust her!

I see that internist at 11:15. I just got my Medicaid card in the mail today. After those things are done on Monday I definitely need to try to catch up with my lawyer.

Tuesday, besides grocery shopping, I see my new therapist Mary Lou. I wonder how that will go and how she is. Probably ugly. I always get ugly therapists. I know it shouldn’t matter, but it’s harder to sit and talk to such an ugly face for nearly an hour as it would be a pretty one.

I’m just so sick of having to start over and over again with my life story to so many different people. Hopefully, she’ll be the last till I move. And I hope the shrink creates a miracle and solves my medication problems.

I’m really getting impatient about moving. I want to hurry up and get it over with. But I still don’t want to leave Andy behind. I was thinking of making him a medley of Stevie Nicks songs which is his favorite, but he says I don’t have to and that all he really wants for Chanukah is my friendship. Good enough.

I want to spend as much time as I can with my nieces when I move. And yes, Tammy too. I love being hyper and driving Tammy nuts. It’s funny. I can’t wait till Lisa gets older to teach her sign language, guitar and organ but I won’t get my hopes up too high about teaching her to sing cuz not many can or do or want to.

There’s a long time before Becky gets older. She’s so cute though. She does look like Bill and nothing like Tammy, although as I got older I came to look more and more like her in the mouth, but not the eyes. My eyes are bigger and gray-green. Tammy’s are brown-green. Pretty color, but not as big as mine. I wish mine were small and dark cuz it’s those big eyes that make me look so much like a little girl. My mouth is too small. Wish I had full lips.

Later…

I am totally bored right now waiting for Andy to call. I wonder where the hell Fran’s been, and I miss talking to Nervous.

I should’ve bought stamps today to mail my mail, and tomorrow Saratoga drug’s closed so I’ll take a walk up to Shoppers. It’ll give me something to do. The only problem with that is Emily’s gonna be there, and I just left a message on her machine saying goodbye, I’m moving, good luck with life and school. I did it cuz I’m so pissed at her for abandoning our friendship. If she asks, I wonder if I should just tell her the truth, although I’m sure it won’t do me any good. She’ll just argue and say she’s been busy and tired, but to me, that’s no excuse. She could at least make the time to call me if she truly cared.

I definitely have given up hope for a relationship. There’s just no such thing as the kind I want. Even if there were, they can’t live with me and I certainly can’t just pack up and live with them. I’d never move in with anyone cuz if things didn’t work out I’d have no place to go and if they lived with me and I kicked them out they’d either duplicate the keys or steal from me or try to beat me up or keep coming over and harassing me or calling me on the phone.

I was thinking of looking into a gay dating service I read about, figuring I could say to them this is what I want in a woman and this is what I don’t want, but no way. I’m not paying money I don’t have for an asshole, and if I got someone decent, would they be attractive at all to me?

Later…

Believe it or not, Emily just called and we had a great talk. I can understand her and how and why she’s been so busy. In the end, it’ll be well worth it and she won’t need a subsidy. The poor woman’s been working her ass off like crazy that she’s got no time for herself either. I’m gonna miss her so much when I move but it’s nice to know that if I want to come into Springfield to visit I’ve got a place to stay.

FRIDAY, OCTOBER 28, 1988 I explained to my shrink how frustrated I was about how the other medication affected me. He said he understood and is giving me something else. It looks like I’ll end up having to take something addicting in the long run. I guess that’s better than taking something dangerous and even he says I’ll probably need something for quite a while longer.

Well, we’re just about coming into November which means I’ll have to do some Chanukah shopping this month. I wish I had the money to buy everyone something nice, but no, of course not. Chanukah falls on my b-day this year which sucks.

This month I’ve also got to give Philip $15 for the stereo.

Later…

Next month will be a busy month with the pledge drive starting on the 28th for Channel 57. Also, the usual errands, groceries, laundry, appointments, and court.

I wonder when Mom and Dad will fly in. Or rather drive in. Probably at the tail end of November.

I notice that when I was younger I used to write just like my sister but now I write almost like my mom. I haven’t done my calligraphy for quite some time now cuz it’s so much easier and quicker to write like this.

Next month I think I may do my gift shopping at Johnson’s Bookstore. They have so many cute gifts there and also I’d like to buy 3 or 4 journals (books with lined paper like this). This is my fourth one (journal) but the first and the third ones were a rip-off cuz there are much fewer pages in them at the price of $8 whereas this one and the second one has lots of pages for only $5 and they’re so much prettier too. Yes, I’ll go to Johnson’s. They’ve got everything at excellent prices. I’d shop tomorrow at McCrory’s in the Eastfield Mall but I’ll have no money until next Tuesday. Andy and I are going there tomorrow. He needs to go to Sears.

Andy and I are such great friends and if it weren’t for him, God knows where I’d be or who I’d have to talk to. I’d be so lonely. Even up to this day he always says, “I’m so glad you made that prank call.” Yeah, that’s how we met up again, ha, ha, ha! I pranked him and he recognized my crazy laugh even after all these years.

THURSDAY, OCTOBER 27, 1988 Can you believe I was on the phone with Andy for almost 3 hours? Well, I was, but that’s typical of us. I had originally called him to say I wanted to go to bed and not to call, but he cheers me up and we have such interesting conversations. We never run out of things to say.

I’m really pissed at Emily. I mean, we were so close and we used to talk on the phone several times a day and visit each other a lot, and now it’s like I don’t even know her anymore. Not since I moved here and she started school and working like crazy. She won’t even make the time to be my friend anymore, and it’s sad cuz we had a good friendship. Oh well, it’s her loss, not mine.

I wonder when it will be time for me to move. After New Year’s? Before? When will I be going to Florida? When will I break into the music business? So many questions but no answers!

WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 26, 1988 Today I finished my volunteer work at Channel 57, stuffing and addressing envelopes. She thought I did such a magnificent job that she took my name and number in case she needs me for anything else.

I’ve tried to get Nervous to call me by leaving messages with his mother, but he won’t call me. To tell you the truth, I miss him and I feel so guilty cuz in a lot of ways I was just as bad as he was. He was crazy at times and a real asshole, but I really used the hell out of him and that’s probably why he won’t call me. I miss the good times and our good talks, although there were also bad times that were not my fault. Maybe I’ll mail him a letter.

Later…

I did write Nervous a letter and will wait to see if he calls me.

Andy was supposed to call me over an hour ago but hasn’t yet, and I’m sure Emily’s not home.

If not tonight, cuz I’m just so exhausted, then definitely tomorrow night I’m gonna hit the Spanish books cuz I was doing so well with that.

Friday I see my new shrink who I’ll have to tell that the Pamelor doesn’t work and it made me dizzier than all hell whenever I stood up and that the Navane’s the only thing that’ll work. But how can I keep taking it with the tardive dyskinesia problem (involuntary muscle twitches, mainly in the face and neck)?

Debbie, the asshole that admitted to me she was in therapy only for the money did terminate me and my new therapist called and scheduled an appointment with me. Her name is Mary Lou.

I definitely should’ve kept the original appointment for January in court cuz I could’ve been moved by then and I would’ve skipped it. Males are such bullies. I mean, to arrest someone for a stupid phone call? See, I prank-called my old phone number and it turns out a cop has the number now. So I had to pay $15 to bail out a few hours later after sitting in a cell, alone, thank God. Oh, and after the cop threatened me. He said I threatened his mother in one of the calls and that I was lucky he didn’t know where I lived at the time. So it’s ok for him to threaten me, but it’s not ok for me to threaten anyone.

Coincidentally enough, I’ve been getting sexually harassing phone calls, and I know it’s either him or someone he knows. They think they’re so smart and so tough, them cops. And invincible.

But also, I’ve been getting calls for longer where they just hang up or stay on the phone for a few minutes. Could it be Nervous? I doubt he’d ever admit to it if it is. It doesn’t bother me, though.

Last night Andy came over and brought his picture collection of Charlie’s Angels. I was like - wow! He even had my favorite picture of all 3 in white shirts with a red background sitting at a table with a vase of red roses! I remembered every single picture and in such detail. He’ll only let me keep them for a week or two. Says he can’t get rid of them or give them to me.

TUESDAY, OCTOBER 25, 1988 I just finished singing to my stereo which Philip brought back this afternoon and it sounds great!

I am presently waiting for Andy to come over with some French bread pizza and pictures of Charlie’s Angels which I’m quite curious to see and see if I remember any of the pictures that I had years ago. No doubt I’ll recognize quite a few.

Also, I’m in the mood to make prank phone calls with him. I need a good laugh. Something to cheer me up and make me smile. I’ve been so bored today cuz I had to sit around all day and wait for the fucking inspector. But this inspector we have that comes around is very attractive. The kind I’d like to have.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 24, 1988 I did some volunteer work today at Channel 57 and enjoyed it very much. I addressed envelopes which I must finish tomorrow, then stuff them with papers. Hopefully, it won’t take too long so I can call about apartments and see my lawyer about this new bullshit phone call case. I want to do some laundry too.

I’ve got to go try to call Andy, though he might be sleeping.

SUNDAY, OCTOBER 23, 1988 I still haven’t been feeling all that great with my nose all stuffed up and I’ve been getting very dizzy when I stand up quickly, and also, I still have these spells where I suddenly become feverish. Still not much of an appetite either. I am supposed to see an internist on the 31st but I lost my Medicaid card so hopefully, the new card will come early, or they’ll see me and let me bring my new card in as soon as I receive it in the mail.

Andy called and told me he told his mother we’re still friends and why. She knew about it when I first called his house, but she didn’t know we became friends. I guess she wasn’t thrilled with the idea at first simply because I’m Dureen O’s daughter.

He also had a talk with my mom, and he said that she said that I’ve got a sweet voice but that he shouldn’t encourage me to be a singer cuz she doesn’t feel I’ve got what it takes, and not to encourage me to live out my fantasies which are unhealthy. Andy said he disagreed 100%. Andy said if a person gave up all their dreams they’d be miserable.

My mother will never understand or accept me for the way I am. My dreams and fantasies are what keeps me happy and going. When you’re lonely you’ve got to fantasize that you’re special and someone’s here to love you as long as you can distinguish it from reality. And if I couldn’t face reality or be realistic then I don’t think I’d have survived for 3 years on my own all by myself. And when are they going to understand that just cuz I’d like to be a singer doesn’t mean I want to be famous? Not every singer has to be famous and I don’t think I’m ready or could handle fame for a long time.

SATURDAY, OCTOBER 22, 1988 I’m so pissed at Philip! My stereo is ready after being cleaned and I couldn’t reach him. What an asshole! See how irresponsible males are? Tomorrow’s Sunday so I can’t get it until next week.

Today’s not my day. Carabetta says that regardless of the doctor’s note, cats are not allowed and I need to get rid of her or they’ll evict me. I guess Tammy’s gonna take her and I also told Tammy that they’ll never allow me to keep her in Norwich so I asked her to keep Sasha permanently as a gift to all of the family from me.

I can’t have anything. No love. No money. No singing career. No animals. It seems things will never change and that this is the life that’s in the cards for me and that I am surely being punished.

So I smile and lie to myself and say, “Life will get better.”

Yeah, right!

Later…

I am starting this book the same day I finished the previous one about the awful day I’ve been having so far.

I’m so bored right now and later on, I should do more of a paint-by-number I’m doing for my nieces and I definitely should study my Spanish. It’s just that I’ve been so lazy to do anything but pace in and out of each room.

I’m desperately dying for romance and love but I know that’s not right or practical. To have a beautiful, kind, loving woman is fantasy, not reality. Sometimes I wish to God I was straight. I wish I could be attracted to a man the way I have been with women but they’re such jerks. Male or female, all I get are assholes. The good ones are either taken or just not interested in me. I’ve been so hurt so much in my life that if I got someone decent I’d probably scare them away. Decent or not I know I’ll never have someone I’m sexually attracted to, male or female. It’s only once in a lifetime I’m attracted to someone and it’s always someone I can’t have. Guess I have to settle for second best all my life. An ugly jerk. I wish I could stop my mind and body from crying out so desperately for love. I wish I could just be happy being alone all my life. It would give me such pride to be able to say I made it through life alone. To be independent. To support my own self. It would be great and that way no one could ever hurt me or say I hurt them.

MONDAY, OCTOBER 17, 1988 I am sitting in the kitchen waiting for Philip to come and get my stereo. I think he’s here now. I’ve had my stereo for 3 years and it really needs a good cleaning job.

I haven’t written for a while, so to start with, I met Maria. She came over that night and then she decided she didn’t want me for a girlfriend cuz I was too short and too pushy by asking her to stay overnight. But I thought that that’s what you were supposed to do.

Then once again, I told myself how much easier it is to just stay alone, as I lose the decent people and attract only assholes. So I decided to stay this way. I really have gotten used to it and have learned to like it. This way no one can steal from me or play with my head or abuse me in any way.

Later…

It’s gonna cost $25 for my stereo to be cleaned and another $12 for a new needle, which won’t be in until next week, though the stereo will be ready Friday. For now, I’m using the boom box.

Earlier I called Maria at work wanting her to return the barrette that she used to put her hair up with the night we met and accidentally walked out with. It’s also an excuse to see her. I’m really sure I’m wasting my time, though, cuz she’s already made up her mind that she doesn’t want to be my girlfriend, or else she’d have called or come over a long time ago. I can’t change her mind and I can’t make her want me. She’s not an asshole. She’s very decent and that’s why she’s not interested in me. I always fuck up when it comes to the decent people by being either too shy or too pushy.

She said she’d call me back after work between 5:00 - 5:30. So far no call. She also said, “We’ll figure out a way to try to get that barrette back to you.” Jeez, why can’t she just drive over with it? She’ll probably give it to someone to give to me to avoid seeing me. I hope she doesn’t give it to Bev. I don’t trust Bev.

Speaking of Bev, I wonder where she and Maria stand. Is Maria interested in her still? What about Maria’s 4-year boyfriend with whom she won’t have sex cuz she doesn’t believe in that before marriage? Will she ever admit she’s gay and seek a relationship with a woman? I guess it’s a waste of time trying to figure out the answers to these questions, and it’s just about 5:30 and still no call and I highly doubt there will be a call.

Next week sometime Philip and I are going to go look at other apartments as I’ve decided I just might be better off staying here in Springfield. I just don’t always get along with Tammy, and how can she help me with my singing when she knows nothing about the music business? I can’t leave Andy. He’s the only one who can help me and he wants to and we’ve become so close. We need each other’s friendship so badly. We have so much in common.

[bumblingbunny]

Quick Life/Blog Update

Hey guys! I hope you all are doing well! :D I’ve been wanting to write this update for awhile but have been either too tired or distracted. The reason why I let my gameplay queue run out is that I got a new job and last week was my first week! It’s been really good, but it also means I have a lot less free time than before. I’m going to do my best to keep things going on here, but it’ll probably be a little slow while I get used to working full time again.

Below the cut I have updates on my saves/plans! I tend to ramble so I feel free to skip, but if you’d like to check on something, it should be mentioned below!

Yuka and Cheli’s Save - I do have more pictures to sort/edit for this save, but I haven’t gotten a chance to play them recently because I’ve been waiting for the toddler glitch to be fixed. :\ But who knows when that will happen. I’m hoping to return to them soonish though since their kids would be the perfect ones to play through high school with!

Since gameplay is the easiest to post, you’ll probably see them again soon, but I think I’m going to start by sharing the other gameplay save I have...

Globetrotter Challenge - I’ve been wanting to play this one for a long time and have finally started it! I figured it was the perfect time since toddlers really aren’t needed for this. I have taken a bajillion pictures so far and I’ve only just started Sulani. Hopefully this will start posting later today or tomorrow!

Love and Conquest - Probably the save most people are interested in. I am still working on it and have gotten the gameplay and a lot of the planning for round 1 done. However this is easily my biggest/most intense project - and when I was feeling anxious from job searching, I just wanted to chill in CAS making pretty sims instead. I did have an idea recently though on how I can keep it to smaller and more manageable scenes that I'm probably going to go with. It’ll mean more editing, but I think it’ll be worth it!

NSB2 - This will probably return with L&C. It’s not my most interesting project, but I would like to show Harlow’s childhood especially since I’ll be continuing with her generation at some point.

S-Pop Sims - I have been inspired by @simmancy‘s spop sims and jumped on the bandwagon! I don’t know much about the industry beyond the game Idol Manager, but both Kit and Elle (@lazarish) have been helping me out a lot. My idea for this story is a lot different from my other ones, so you’ll probably see a group of posts for it here and there once I get it started.You’ve already gotten to see a bunch of the sims I made for it with my Beach Babe edits that just finished.

So these are the main saves I’m focusing on for the time being... Although I do have an idea for @samssims‘s Camp Sims theme. It requires a bit of planning but I’m hoping you’ll see that sometime in August.

If you’ve read to this point, thank you! I know that was long. I hope you have a great day though! :D

[lazywonderlvnd]

Hi, if you are still taking prompts; A magically powerful Harry not noticing that his magic does things to make Draco happy. This can be pre-relationship or established relationship. Like it starts of with his tea being exactly as he likes and always the right temperature. Then evolves to rooms changing colour or weather changing or people being unable to invade Draco’s personal space due to an invisible barrier or something ridiculous. Btw Draco doesn’t notice as well.

anon.....you really killed me w this one. i’ve been so emo over this wyugeahrwiw might end up writing smth longer tbh bc this concept is literally the only thing that matters to me!!!!!!! i hope u enjoy i had so much fun with it ❤️❤️❤️

“Harry, you do it. Please.”

“No.”

“Please!”

“We’re fucking watching something, Draco!”

“So just pause it!”

Harry grabs the pillow on his lap and slams it onto the sofa next to him. Hermione can see dust rise in its wake. He pauses the telly. 

“Are you doing it?” Draco asks hopefully. Harry scowls at him. 

“Well you won’t shut up until I do, will you?”

“Definitely not.”

Harry disappears into the kitchen and Draco sits there looking smug.

“It’s kind of sick how you get off on bossing him around,” says Ron, his tone one of simple observation. His fingers are idly playing with Hermione’s hair, but she doesn’t think he notices he’s doing it. 

“If I’m not mean to him a few times a week I break out in a rash, Weasley,” Draco says blithely. “Besides, he makes it perfectly. I don’t know how he does it, it’s always exactly the right temperature and sweetness and all that. I s’pose his years as a house-elf for those Muggles gave him plenty of time to perfect the art.”

“You’re a twat,” says Ron. “And my mum makes tea better than him.”

“Well you’re just a pitiful little mummy’s boy, aren’t you, Weasley? We can hardly trust your opinion.”

“Hark who the hell’s talking,” Ron scoffs. “Least I’m not twenty-three and still calling my mum ‘mummy’ like the world’s biggest bloody ponce.”

Draco splutters but before he can retort Harry’s coming back into the room hovering four cups of tea that float placidly to each of them. Draco looks exactly like a satisfied cat as he takes his and Harry drops back down onto the sofa next to him. Not too close, but certainly not too far, either.

“Literally exquisite,” Draco declares after he’s taken a sip. Ron rolls his eyes.

“It’s just tea, Draco,” says Harry, and he grabs for the remote to turn the film back on. “You’re such a demanding little brat. Merlin’s fucking tits.”

But Draco looks happy and Harry looks suspiciously content as well. Ron turns to her and makes a silent gagging face. Hermione snorts and puts a finger to her lips. They’ve decided not to say anything yet.

*

“Wasn’t this place a lot … uglier last time?”

“What?” Harry says absently. He’s not listening — he’s got all his attention zeroed in on a stack of parchment he’s holding. They’d only barely dragged him along to lunch; earlier the captain of the English National Team had apparently owled him a great number of brand-new Quidditch plays and required Harry’s extensive thoughts and notes before their next practise, which was tomorrow morning. 

“Uglier,” Draco says emphatically, and Ron mutters something she doesn’t catch. “Remember? The walls were that tragic egg-yolk colour.” He shivers. Hermione thinks it might have been an honest-to-god shiver of revulsion. She also thinks she knows what’s happened, even though the extent of it surprises her.

“Maybe someone heard you whingeing and changed it,” Ron apparently can’t stop himself from saying with a snigger. Hermione elbows him hard and he shoots her a glare, mouthing, he doesn’t know!

Harry would usually be the one to take the lead and get them a table when all four of them go out to eat together but today he’s too wrapped up in his Quidditch plays, so Ron steps forward and does it, which makes Hermione’s chest flutter pleasantly. He’d blush down to his bones if she ever said it aloud but he’s quite capable of being a leader in Harry’s absences. 

“Whatever happened,” says Draco pointedly as they’re led to their table, “it’s a great bloody blessing, I was genuinely unsure I’d have the mental fortitude to survive another assault like that on my delicate senses. And, I mean, this —” he gestures to the walls, which are now an admittedly pleasing dark teal above a white trim “— is stunning. It’s my favourite colour.”

“Is it? So weird they picked your favourite colour completely by coincidence,” Ron says, and Hermione elbows him again. Draco notices nothing and neither does Harry, although he does finally set the plays aside once they’re seated at the table.

“Are you complaining about the wall colour again?” he asks drily. They would both be extremely displeased to know they sound like an old married couple. Draco snatches haughtily at the paper napkin on the table and unfolds it to place over his lap. The first time he’d ever done this at a regular, decidedly not upscale restaurant Ron had taken it upon himself to spend the entire meal adopting a posh accent to match Draco’s and saying things to the waiter like “Don’t you have crystal?” while holding up a glass cup full of Pepsi and then commenting “These aren’t real silver, you know” after making a show of inspecting the titanium utensils. 

“I can complain about hideous design choices if I want to,” Draco tells Harry with his nose in the air. “Thankfully they’ve rectified it this time.”

On the other side of the restaurant, Hermione sees two employees talking, one of them gesturing at the wall with utter bewilderment. She doesn���t point it out.

*

“Twelve o’clock,” says Ron, nodding past Draco’s shoulder. “Some bloke staring you down hard, Malfoy.”

Draco looks excitedly behind him, but what Hermione takes more notice of is the way Harry’s face falls a little. She can’t help but wonder if he even realises it’s happened. She’s almost certain he’s aware of his feelings for Draco even though he still hasn’t said anything to her (and she’s been waiting months now, the effort of holding her tongue growing only more difficult by the day, and she knows Ron’s always seconds away from shouting at him) but she doesn’t think he knows how obvious he is. Draco doesn’t seem to know either, but she thinks that’s because Draco feels exactly the same way. She’d have called them morons, but she remembers too well how long it had taken her and Ron.

“What the fuck, Weasley,” Draco hisses, turning back around with a scowl that makes Ron laugh and Harry perk up again a little bit. “He looks like he hasn’t washed his hair in weeks.”

“Now, now,” says Ron, “mustn’t judge books by their greasy covers.”

“Then you go shag him if you think he’s so fit.”

“Maybe I will,” Ron says airily, as if he really is considering it, and Hermione can’t help chuckling and kissing his cheek. Then his expression changes to one of wicked amusement, which makes all of them look round to see the bloke coming their way. Hermione glances at Harry to find that — oh yes, he looks flustered and vaguely upset.

“Hullo,” says the greasy bloke to Draco as he comes up beside him at their table. He’s really not terrible-looking, but if she’s learned anything about Draco in the last couple years it’s that his standards amount to models and Harry Potter, so this man has almost no chance.

“Hello,” Draco drawls, reminding her fiercely of his younger self at Hogwarts. “I’m not interested.”

“Right little narcissistic bugger, aren’t you?” the man says. And now, finally, he’s begun to look as revolting to Hermione as he’d done initially to Draco — a repellent personality can do that. “Maybe I just wanted to come and have a chat.”

“Then why aren’t you looking at any of the rest of us?” Ron asks, sounding halfway between amused still and a little put off.

“Can you leave, please?” Draco interjects, cringing away from the man encroaching slowly on his personal space. And suddenly, as he looks on the verge of antagonising Draco further, he shifts his feet and slips, landing right on his bum with a yell of surprise. All four of them get to their feet to see, but there doesn’t seem to be any liquid or even slimy food for him to have tripped on.

“The fuck ...?” the man says, getting back to his feet. But when he moved towards Draco, he only slips again, on absolutely nothing at all. Something clicks and Hermione looks at Harry: he seems as confused as anyone else (if obviously pleased).

She looks at Ron then, who catches her eye and lifts his brows like he’s thinking the same thing.

Draco’s suitor gets up once more and steadies himself, looking a bit dazed. Some deep animal instinct seems to tell him to stop trying, and with a wary glance at Draco he finally leaves.

“Well that was a bit of a fucking scene,” says Harry. Draco, coming out of his own startled daze, laughs.

“Yeah,” Ron says sarcastically, “wonder what could’ve possibly happened.”

*

“I really thought it was going to rain,” Draco mopes where he’s standing at the window. It’s grey outside but it definitely doesn’t look like rain and Draco appears so upset about it that Hermione actually feels badly, even though she’s quite glad for the clear weather. 

“Just shut the curtains,” Ron suggests from his place on the floor. He’s sorting through Harry’s collection of VHS tapes, trying to decide on a good Halloween movie. Not that he’s ever seen any of them, and Hermione suspects he’ll end up choosing whichever cover he likes best.

“It’s not the same!” Draco wails. “The thunder and lightning is all part of it, you uncultured pillock! The atmosphere is all wrong.”

“It’ll be just as good when we shut off all the lights and draw the curtains,” she assures him, but it doesn’t remove the look of disappointment from his face. It’s a pouty sort of thing that echoes the brattiness of his youth; she imagines a five-or-six-year-old Draco giving his parents similar looks when he wasn’t getting what he wanted.

 At that moment the front door opens and Harry walks in carrying two grocery bags, one of which contains alcohol, which Hermione can tell by the way the plastic is bulging around the cans.

“The fuck are you all doing here?” he says by way of greeting.

“You said eight o’clock, fuckhead,” Ron tells him without looking up. “But it’s fine, I’ve had time to pick a film and Malfoy’s had time to moan about the weather.”

“What’s wrong with the weather?”

“I wanted a storm!”

At that exact moment, a flash of lightning lights up the sky behind Harry where he hasn’t even closed the door yet. Seconds later a downpour begins, and then there’s a rolling crash of thunder.

Hermione’s eyes widen and once more she finds Ron’s gaze, who looks about as shocked as she feels. Draco, meanwhile, has his hands over his mouth and looks like a child on Christmas morning.

For the first time since his magic had begun picking up on Draco’s wishes and granting them of seemingly its own accord, Hermione sees Harry look suspicious. He peers behind him at the storm suddenly raging outside his house before slowly closing the door. When he turns back he looks directly at Hermione, who looks away quickly.

They set up the food Harry had gotten — all kinds of Halloween-themed sweets — and once everyone has their drinks (“Make mine,” Draco tells Harry, “you do it best”) and is comfortable on the two sofas in the room (Harry and Draco are, as usual, as close to each other as they can get without actually touching) they start the movie: The Thing, which Harry swears is one of the greatest horror films of all time.

Funny thing is, an hour and a half into it she looks over and, with a jolt, realises the two of them are kissing half-covered beneath a blanket. She elbows Ron, who positively beams when he notices.

“Fucking finally, dear sweet Merlin,” he whispers, the sound muffled by the continued rain and thunder. “I nearly hit him upside the head when he made it rain, are you fucking kidding me?”

“Shh!” Hermione hisses, though she’s smiling. “They’ll hear you. We’ll rag him about it tomorrow.”

A soft sound of laughter comes from the other sofa that Hermione identifies as Draco’s, and when she risks another peek after a moment she sees that Harry has a hand on Draco’s jaw, and that he’s smiling.

[sevlgi]

how it feels

requested: no

group: stray kids

pairing: hyunjin x gn!reader

genre: fluff, slight angst

contents: high school!au but there’s not much school involved, best friend!hyunjin, mutual pining, hyunjin’s a hopeless romantic

warnings: none

synopsis: comforting your best friend after a breakup usually doesn’t involve making him fall in love with you, but both of you just want to know what it feels like.

a/n: yes hello please enjoy this fic that i’m randomly dropping in the middle of my hiatus 🙃 i’ll hopefully be able to write a gg fic of some kind for y’all soon! the ending of this is so fucking lazy, sorry

word count: 5.3k

“Why, Y/N? Can’t she just tell me why?”

“I know,” you comfort, rubbing your best friend’s back as he sniffles with his knees up to his chest. It’s hard to see him in the darkness that’s brought by the blanket resting over the both of you like a tent, but in the glow of Hyunjin’s phone, you can see the tear tracks on his face. “I’m sorry, Jinnie.”

He pouts and scrubs yet another tear off his cheek, lamenting, “Why can’t I never fall in love with someone who loves me back? We’re only in high school, it shouldn’t be this complicated.”

Dabbing at his face with a tissue, you sigh, “I guess you have bad luck. Or bad judgement, could be both. There are plenty of people who are dying to love and appreciate you, you know, you’re the one who never spares them a glance.”

Hyunjin shakes his head. “No, those people only think I’m the long-haired guy from the dance team. They would treat me the same,” he frowns tearily. “I just want someone who likes me first.”

It always goes this way for him, you know-- you’ve seen it too many times, the stages of your best friend falling in love with someone who leads him on, enjoys his company for a while before dumping him and his expectations in the dirt. Maybe it’s the undeniable pressure to be the perfect partner that Hyunjin wants more than anything, or maybe he just always ends up liking assholes. But either way, it’s carnage for Hyunjin’s heart, and he never gets used to it no matter how many  times it happens.

He’s too sensitive and warm-hearted for his own good, so all he can do after the latest breakup is cry into his favorite pillow on a Tuesday night. If you weren’t so willing to immediately come to comfort him, Hyunjin would’ve been doing it alone, too, and he would’ve cried for far longer than he has.

“Who do I go to prom with now?” he questions sadly, breaking you from your recollections about the many times you’ve done this before.

Unfortunately, all his question does is make you laugh. “It’s a serious question!” Hyunjin protests, scowling at you.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” you say, still chuckling. “I mean, would it be so bad to go to prom with a friend? I’m sure Yeji- wait never mind, not Yeji… I’m sure someone would go with you for appearances’s sake. Or if you don’t mind, just ask Lix, he’s too nice to say no even if he wanted.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” he says, flopping back onto his bed. The clock by his bedside reads 2:33 am, and you can already feel your physics final cursing you. “I want to go with someone I feel something for, you know? It’s our prom, Y/N, I want to feel the prom-ness of promposals and picking out outfits and all that with someone I love.”

You shake your head and push his knee lightly. “Unfortunately, most people our age haven’t even been in love yet, so I doubt many people can help you feel it. But you know what I’m feeling right now?”

“Please don’t say pancakes,” Hyunjin groans, “I’m not waking my parents up to teach us how to use the stove again.”

Throwing a pillow at him, you roll your eyes, “I feel tired, dumbass. And we have finals tomorrow, so how about we invite our friends out to get boba afterwards so we can find you a prom date? You can complain all you like about how the three weeks before prom happens are too short to fall in love, yadda yadda.”

“Fine. But don’t mock me, my many feelings are perfectly valid,” your best friend warns you, and rolls over to turn the light off.

Seungmin frowns when Hyunjin finally shows up at the entrance of the school’s closest boba shop, looking slightly disheveled from dance practice. “Finally. You’re annoying, and late.”

“Jeongin’s later,” Hyunjin objects, plopping down in the spot next to you and accepting the drink you hold out to him. The amount of mango yogurt with boba he drinks is definitely unhealthy (and expensive), but he’ll only groan more about his breakup if you didn’t get it for him. “Why do you literally never complain about him?”

“Jeongin’s cute, and you aren’t.”

The long-haired boy scoffs and sips at his drink sulkily as Felix returns with his own order. “Oh, hey, Hyunjin. I didn’t see you arrive,” Felix smiles sunnily. “Jisung’s not coming today, by the way. Something about having to stay for detention.”

You raise your eyebrows at that new piece of information. “Really? For what?”

“Playing a song entitled ‘Fuck You Bitch’ in Bio, I believe.”

Seungmin snorts in laughter, sighing fondly, “Sounds like him. Anyway, I heard we’re here to solve the problem of Hwang Hyunjin’s prom date. Or… lack thereof?”

“You’re so mean,” your best friend groans. 

Ignoring him, you clasp your hands on the table and lean in conspiratorially. “I doubt any of you haven’t heard at this point, but he got dumped, for lack of a better word, and now, like the rest of us, Hyunjin has no prom date. But unlike us, he actually still wants one.”

“I’ll go with you,” Felix offers, still chewing on the straw in his mouth.

You elbow Hyunjin, who pushes you back before responding. “Thank you, Lixie, but like I explained to Y/N, I want to go with someone I’m in love with. I want to know how it feels, you know?”

“I don’t know,” Seungmin deadpans. At Hyunjin’s crestfallen expression, though, he says, “I mean, we can definitely try, but I feel like the rest of the people left in this school are either too young or not your type. And is 3 weeks really enough for you to be ‘in love again’?”

“Knowing me, maybe…? But I think I’d need to know the person already,” your best friend pouts.

Jeongin arrives then, conveniently missing most of the conversation before he squishes in on the end of the booth. “Well, you better not try to fall in love with me,” the youngest grins.

“I’d never pick you,” Hyunjin jabs back. “But out of the people I do know…”

“I volunteer,” you joke.

Your friends snicker, thankfully, but the boy sitting right next to you turns with a thoughtful expression on his face. “Actually…”

“I don’t like that expression,” Jeongin narrows his eyes.

“I think I could fall in love with Y/N in 3 weeks,” Hyunjin says nonchalantly, as if it’s nothing. He completely ignores all the shocked expressions around him.

In truth, as easy as Hyunjin falls in love, he’s also incredibly easy to fall for. You’d never admit it to him, but you have loved him before, with the kind of burning passion that he somehow has with every one of his relationships.

You’re over it, and you have been for a long time, but him saying that maybe he could love you so very easily makes it all come back up to the surface. “For real?” Felix questions.

“I mean, I don’t like you yet--” your heart falls (stupidly)-- “but I think I could.”

“So… what do you want me to do?” you ask.

Hyunjin smiles, so pure and beautiful that you wonder how his girlfriend just left him, and says, “I want you to help me figure out how it feels to really be in love.” He scrambles to interrupt Seungmin, whose mouth is opening. “It’s just three weeks before prom. We’ll just feel happy together, none of the other shit--”

“You are so cheesy,” Jeongin interjects. “And I think you’ve watched too many dramas. Did you pause to think how Y/N feels about your plan?”

You appreciate your younger friend’s considerateness, but the guilty expression on Hyunjin’s face prompts you to say, “I mean, I don’t think I could like you like that, so… sure. I’ll help you.”

“Really?” All three of your friends ask as they turn to you. 

“Yeah,” you shrug. “What, you fall in love with me in three weeks for prom, I don’t reciprocate, but we move on as friends? I think it’ll be fine.”

“It never works like that though,” Seungmin doubts. He isn’t as cynical as he seems, but in the presence of overly-optimistic Felix and Hyunjin, he and Jeongin always end up as the voice of reason. Usually, you’re with them, but this time, you’re the one enabling the idiocy of the new plan.

Hyunjin grins, “Then we’ll make it work like that.”

With the amount of time that passes before Hyunjin mentions his plot again, you almost forget about it. The first week is normal in a way that makes you nervous-- you hang out like normal, doing homework in the library with your friends as Minho harrasses Chan, eating lunch wherever you can find a spot. There isn’t really time to be alone, just the two of you, and you aren’t sure how Hyunjin is supposed to ‘fall in love’ with you if it’s just normal.

Of course, it doesn’t last long.

It takes a while for it to set in that when Hyunjin asks you to go watch a drive-through movie with him, it isn’t just so he can show off his brand-new car. It’s a date, and it’s stated painfully clearly in his text from the night before.

However, you don’t realize it until you’re literally getting into his car in front of your house.

“Wait. This is a date, isn’t it?”

Hyunjin chuckles nervously, looking over at you in the passenger seat, and you notice for the first time that he’s put on a bit of makeup, and his car doesn’t smell like Jisung’s hot cheetos for once. “I mean, yeah. I meant it when I said I wanted you to help, and I thought you did too? It doesn’t have to be one if you’re backing out, though, it’s totally fine.”

“I’m not backing out,” you shake your head. You really aren’t-- so far, nothing has happened that would make you want to back out yet, and no freshman-year feelings for your best friend have resurfaced just yet. “I just forgot. You know me.”

“Yeah, I know your goldfish brain,” Hyunjin teases, setting the car in motion. There’s lo-fi playing, and he’s a good driver, so you relax. “You forget everything.”

“I do not! You’re the one who has to be reminded of everyone’s birthday but mine,” you protest. If he wasn’t driving, you would shove him, and you remind him of that, to his dismay.

Hyunjin hums as soon as the two of you fall into comfortable silence, your foot tapping lightly to the music, and with the sun setting on the distant horizon, it’s so familiar. You try to interrupt the peace anyway. “So, what movie are we seeing?”

“10 Reasons I Hate You,” he answers. “It’s a classic, and you haven’t seen it.”

“And you love romcoms,” you finish.

He doesn’t protest, only sending you a small smile. You’re pulling into the theater already anyway, in one of the better rows to watch the movie as Hyunjin turns his radio on and starts fiddling with it. “There’s snacks in the backseat,” he offers, to no surprise.

They’re some of your favorites, though there are also the chips that he can’t live without. There’s a blanket, which drapes awkwardly over the cupholder between the two of you, and a bottle of juice that you place in his lap immediately. “You like watermelon juice more than I do.”

“Thanks,” he says quietly, almost surprised.

You scowl and poke him, allowed to now that you’re safely parked and waiting for the movie to begin. “Don’t act all shocked, we’ve been friends since orientation and I’ve spent more than half my paychecks getting this damn juice for you.”

“Mean,” Hyunjin protests, but he hands you your favorite soda from under his seat anyway. “And shut up, it’s starting.”

He seems to know the intro to the movie, smiling when the first line of dialogue sounds, all crackly over the shitty radio, and you eventually stop staring at him to watch the movie instead. Of course, you can’t keep yourself from asking, “Why do you like romcoms so much, anyway? You’ve never explained to me, for all the ones I’ve watched with you.”

“I like happy endings, I think,” the long-haired boy responds after a short pause to think. “Not to be dramatic, but I haven’t had one yet, so maybe watching other people being happy makes me happier too.”

You nod, taking it as a perfectly acceptable answer. Knowing how sentimental your best friend is, it’s nowhere near a stretch, either, being something that just fits with his personality.

He talks occasionally to tell you a little tidbit that he knows: by the end, you’ve learned about how it’s a modern adaptation of a rather misogynistic Shakespeare play, how the entire movie was shot without sets, and how the scene of Kat reading the poem was the first take. It’s interesting, of course, but you’re more captured by the way Hyunjin’s smile glints in the weak light filtered through the car windows.

The sky is dark when the credits roll and Hyunjin reaches for the steering wheel, almost too dark for you to see anything outside when you’re driving back to your house.

“So? How was it?”

“How was what?” you ask, moving your hands around vaguely. “The snacks? The movie? The date?”

“All of the above?” Hyunjin says hesitantly.

You answer immediately, “It was perfect. You knew that, though.”

“I didn’t really. I mean, I’ve never taken you on a date,” he muses. “And plenty of the people I’ve dated before weren’t even willing to watch a rom-com with me.”

“Then that’s their problem,” you say. “Anyone who isn’t willing to watch a rom-com with you is just an asshole, and I stand by that.”

Hyunjin smiles sweetly. You’re parked by the curb in front of your house at this point, so it’s slightly more easy to see the silhouette of your friend’s face. “That’s nice of you. I dunno though, I wouldn’t want to label everyone who doesn’t like romcoms as an asshole.”

“That’s not what I mean.” You shift a little bit to face him, pausing before you explain, “I think that if someone is so unwilling to try something that means so much to the person they like, then they don’t really like them.”

“I guess. You know, there’s another reason why I like romcoms so much.”

You don’t speak, waiting for Hyunjin to explain. And he does. “I think romcoms give me hope,” he nods. “Like… they make me think that anything’s possible, not just happy endings. Maybe the person who I don’t even have a chance with secretly likes me back, you know?”

“I can’t really imagine someone who wouldn’t like you if you liked them, but I think I get it,” you smile.

“At least you try. See you at school next week?”

“Come on, we both know that Binnie’s dragging all of us out to beat Chan’s ass at bowling,” you sigh, taking it as a sign to open your car door. 

Before you make it completely outside, though, Hyunjin’s hand rests on your wrist. “Y/N, thanks for tonight.”

“Anytime,” you respond breathlessly, closing the door a little louder than you probably should.

You do mean it.

“Remind me again why we have to go prom outfit shopping together?”

Hyunjin pouts, peering in the window of yet another shop. His arm rests gently on your shoulder despite the way you jokingly pushed it off at the beginning of the day, but you really don’t mind. “Isn’t it cute to have matching prom outfits? We should be color-coordinated in some way.”

“I mean, sure… but isn’t online shopping just easier?” you ask, raising your eyebrow. “It’s the 21st century, Jin.”

“You’re so unromantic,” he groans, and finally pushes the door open to a thrift store to lead you inside.

You wrinkle your nose at the heavy smell of perfume that hits you as soon as you step inside. “And you watch too many movies. You’ve known me for almost four years, you aren’t going to have some magical moment where you realize you like me just because I put on a sparkly outfit of some kind.”

“Who knows? Maybe you’ll suddenly think that you love me when you see me in a tux,” Hyunjin grins.

You don’t respond to that, and he doesn’t push it, taking it as just another joke of his. Of course he doesn’t know about freshman year, and he definitely doesn’t know about how you still aren’t sure if that crush ever subsided. He shouldn’t know. 

He’s too picky to pick something at the first store, you know, so you just follow him around as he flicks through things that are either too fitted or too loose, too patterned or too plain. 

It takes three stores for him to finally something that he likes, and he appears from the dressing room with a gorgeous grin on his face. “What do you think?”

“It’s… good. I mean, you look good,” you clarify. Of course Hyunjin looks perfect in anything, but the dark navy jacket over the patterned button-down he was already wearing just seem like they were a combo meant for him. 

He isn’t satisfied with your response, towering over you as you slump lower in the chair. “Just good?”

“Hot. Stunning, beautiful, sexy-- is that what you want to hear?” you respond sarcastically.

“That’s exactly it!”

Rolling your eyes, you pick up your things from the chair and say, “Then we’re done? Are you picking this one?”

“Yeah, but what about you?” Hyunjin asks. “Do you already have something, or are we going to get something? I’m still waiting for my kdrama moment, you know.”

You definitely don’t have something at home, but you don’t think you could bear being on the receiving end of the drama moment that your best friend so desperately wants. Something about having him suggest something for you to wear, reacting as dramatically as you know he will, just won’t allow your old feelings for him to sit still.

“I’m good. Let’s check out, and get some ice cream?” you offer to placate him.

Hyunjin grins and offers his arm to you again, practically skipping to the checkout. “Sounds perfect to me.”

“Y/N, what the hell do I wear on a date?”

“How should I know?” You sound listless, flicking through one of the mangas that one of Changbin’s friends left as his house.

“You literally went on a date with your freshman year crush last week and then picked a prom outfit with him,” your friend scowls, tossing a shirt at your face. It’s clean, thankfully, but you still chuck it back at him.

“In my defense, I forgot that it was a date,” you respond, “and shut up about the ‘freshman year crush’ thing. I never would’ve told you if I knew you would use it against me like this.”

Changbin throws yet another piece of clothing in your direction, narrowly missing your face, and you raise a pillow to threaten him with. “You got me into this mess with Felix in the first place, so I think it’s even.”

“It’s not a mess if it’s what you asked me to do,” you complain, “and besides, you wouldn’t stop talking about this date for the past week despite it literally just being something we do together all the time.”

“I like Felix, I don’t like you.”

“Then I’m leaving you to agonize over your collection of colorful track pants on your own,” you warn, and he subsequently shuts up. “There we go. Don’t wear one of those, by the way, even though Felix wouldn’t say a single thing about it.”

“How was the date, by the way? And the three-year-old feelings?” Changbin asks as he continues to dig in his closet.

You hesitate. “It was… nice? Hyunjin knows way too much about Julia Stiles, but he was super enthusiastic and the movie was pretty good. He got the good snacks, too.”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he sighs. 

“Then what did you mean, Mr. ‘I Love Lee Felix With My Whole Tiny Brain’?” you challenge.

Changbin doesn’t take the bait, unfortunately. “Jeongin told me about the whole plot you and Hyunjin have going on. Are you really dumb enough to think that you can get him to love you without falling for him again, and then leave him after it?”

There’s no way to respond to his question without making a complete fool out of yourself, and so, you simply don’t. Apparently in one of his more coherent moods, Changbin continues on, “I’d say that you watched too many movies, but I’ve seen you avoid Hyunjin’s movie nights. What the hell is going on with you?”

“I mean, have you seen the way he looks when he wants something?” you answer unintentionally. “Obviously you weren’t with us at the at the boba shop, but I’m serious. I couldn’t say no to him, especially when he’s heartbroken.”

“What does he look like?” Changbin asks.

You sigh, “He… his eyes get kind of shiny, almost like he’se about to cry but not really like that. And I don’t really know, he just looks like he’d be sad if you said no but wouldn’t talk about it, and that’s the part that makes you want to say ‘yes’.”

“It sounds to me like your three-year-long crush is still here, then,” your friend replies. “Because I have never felt that way about Hyunjin before, but I know what expression you’re talking about.”

Staring at him like he’s grown two heads, you realize that he’s wearing a jean jacket that shouldn’t have taken so much time to pick out. “That’s a stupid conclusion.”

Changbin shrugs and picks his phone up on his way out. “You can think about it as stupid if you want, but I’m usually not wrong about this. I’m going now, do you want a ride or something? You can stay here as long as you want, though.”

“I’ll walk home, it’s still noon,” you answer. You need to think, anyway.

He walks to the kitchen for a drink of water, he claims, but he picks up his phone on the way there, presumably to talk to Felix like the lovey-dovey fool he is. You wrinkle your noise and wander in the hallway, fully intending to bully Changbin about his crush as long as possible.

But his low voice, echoing from the kitchen, definitely doesn’t sound like flirting. When Changbin strides out, on a mission, it’s obvious that something is wrong. “We have to go,” he says. “Jeongin and Hyunjin got in an accident.”

Fear bubbles in your throat, and you yank the front door open harder than you could’ve thought possible. “What? How? When? Is it just the two of them? Are they okay?”

“Minho says that he doesn’t know yet, he’s driving there too. They aren’t calling the police, they’re apparently fine enough to get us,” Changbin says as he backs out of the driveway. “But we better get there as soon as we can.”

“Then drive,” you exhale sharply, slamming your seatbelt on as if it’ll stop your heart from beating out of your chest.

You leap out of the passenger’s side before the car even stops moving, finding Minho and Chan’s cars both parked at the side of the road behind the silver one that you remember to be Jeongin’s parents’. There’s a huddle of people there, Seungmin and Jisung parting so that you can make your way to the center.

To your relief, both your friends are okay; Hyunjin’s sitting on the trunk of the car, massaging his legs, and Jeongin’s definitely wincing a bit too much when he moves his neck. The car is dented, but not to the point of no repair.

Still, anger clouds your vision.

“What the hell’s wrong with the both of you?” you almost shout. “And what the fuck happened?”

Hyunjin starts, “Y/N, calm down. I was trying to teach Jeongin to drive, and we went a little off course--”

“Teaching him to drive, on the damn highway?” you question furiously. “You barely got your license three months ago, I get that you’re a good driver, but you aren’t a good enough driver for this! Whose idea was this?”

Jeongin timidly raises a hand, but Felix stops you from saying anything more. “Let’s all calm down, okay? Y/N, our friends are fine,” he says, low voice barely audible over the wind whipping around. “Everyone’s alive, which is the most important part here, and we can fix the car, which isn’t all that important. Let’s just focus on getting someone here to help, okay?”

“I’ve called my uncle to come and tow the car, we’re just going to get Hyunjin and Jeongin to the hospital, okay?” Seungmin reassures you. “Changbin’s car is too small, and you’re the better driver, so you and Hyunjin take it. Jeongin will come in Minho’s car with me, and we’ll meet you there.”

You nod stiffly and get into the driver’s seat first, pretending like you don’t notice how Chan pulls Hyunjin back to talk with him.

You shouldn’t have gotten angry; it doesn’t make sense to be angry at all. You should’ve been scared, worried, anything but angry, and so, you can only try to calm your breathing by the time Hyunjin sits next to you and Chan’s car sets off.

“Why are you so mad?” he asks quietly.

It’s the wrong thing to say; you turn your head to him, incredulous. “Why am I mad? You could have died, both of you could have died!”

“And? How many things have we all done together that could’ve ended with us in a ditch?” Hyunjin raises an eyebrow. “Hell, you were the one who decided that it would be fun to jump from the roof into Seungmin’s pool last summer, what’s changed? I get it, it was stupid, but you’ve never been so mad about something like this before.”

You exhale, tapping your fingers on Changbin’s steering wheel as you follow your friends’ cars. “To be honest, I don’t know.”

“Okay.”

It’s completely silent after that, at least until you reach the emergency room.

Jeongin and Hyunjin are fine, thankfully; the youngest has twisted a muscle in his neck, but it’s nothing that can’t heal on its own, and Hyunjin’s knees are merely bruised. Jisung’s the one who tells you, the older two of your friend group apparently dealing with the parents of the injured.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” he asks, patting your arm. “You reacted a little… adversely earlier. Did you and Hyunjin have a fight?”

“Why is it always about me and Hyunjin?” you ask with narrowed eyes. “Can’t I be mad because they almost got themselves killed?”

Jisung raises an eyebrow. “You never get mad when we almost get ourselves killed, that’s Chan’s job. And you were basically yelling straight at Hyunjin, I’ve never seen the guy so scared.”

You exhale and sit back in the creaky hospital chair. You wish you could tell Jisung if there was something wrong, but you honestly don’t know what it is. “I don’t know. Do you think there’s something wrong with me?”

“You tell me, dude,” Jisung chuckles. “I think you should think about it. I mean, there’s barely two weeks until prom now, you barely have time to back out anymore.”

“Why would I back out?” you stare at him.

He pushes you to stand, and only says, “Think about it yourself. Okay?”

You don’t tap out, but only because you don’t get Hyunjin alone enough to do so.

After your little yelling fest at him, he obviously doesn’t want to just talk to you, despite how you publicly apologize to both him and Jeongin. You don’t sit together during movie night, you sit at opposite corners of your study table in the library.

Until Felix’s parents invite all of you over to take prom pictures, all you get is a stilted silence.

“You look nice,” he mumbles when the two of you get ushered together in a pair. Except for Felix and Changbin, all the others are by themselves, and you wonder why Hyunjin was so hellbent to get himself a prom date when almost everyone else didn’t bother.

He himself looks absolutely perfect, his hair styled to perfection and a slight pink glittering on his lips. The suit that you picked out together is paired with a patterned shirt that you’ve never seen before, and it perfectly matches your own hastily-purchased outfit. Hyunjin offers a flower to you, color-coordinated, and you hold it in one hand with the other on his arm. “Thanks. You too.”

“Okay, smile, everyone!” Felix’s mom grins behind the camera. “Couples, stand closer together a little bit!”

With a (rather convenient) nudge from Minho, Hyunjin’s hand slips onto your waist, and heat rises to the tops of your ears. Felix’s mother is pleased, though, and the photos carry on with the occasional hoots of laughter when Jisung smacks a kiss onto Seungmin’s cheek and gets clocked as a result.

Conversation is never stilted when you’re with your friends, so despite the silence between Hyunjin and you, there’s no awkwardness during the ride there. Silence only falls when it’s just the two of you standing together in the corner of the venue, all the others off to dance or raid the buffet table.

You decide to speak first. “Are you pissed at me for yelling at you? Because I said I was sorry, and I am.”

“I’m not pissed at you,” Hyunjin shakes his head.

“Well, you’re sure acting like it,” you snap. With a sigh, you end up apologizing again, “Sorry. I just… I know that the plot was mostly a joke, just to take your mind off of the heartbreak and stuff. I kind of messed it up.”

“You messed it up?” He stares at you.

“Well, yeah… I yelled at you, didn’t I?”

Hyunjin sighs, almost like he expected a different answer. “No, that didn’t mess anything up. I mean, I got what I wanted, anyway.”

“And what was that?”

“I fell in love with you.”

It’s your turn to watch him, completely shellshocked. The sparkling, multicolored lights of the venue bounce off him like an otherworldly glow, and his eyes sparkle even though he’s avoiding your gaze. Maybe all the people falling at his feet, you included, are onto something. “I mean, it’s not exactly what I wanted,” he blabbers. “I wanted to be in love without it hurting, and obviously that failed, but… I should’ve known that it wouldn’t even take three weeks for me to love you.”

“Hyunjin.”

Your best friend still doesn’t look up, so you just ask softly, “Why does it hurt?”

“You don’t like me back, of course it hurts,” Hyunjin frowns. 

“Who said I didn’t like you back?”

He’s quiet, eyes flicking up to you like he thinks it’s Jisung pranking him or something. “Do you mean it?”

“We’re stupid, Hyunjin,” you laugh. “We’re so, so stupid. I had a crush on  you since we met, for two whole-ass years.”

“Well, I liked you for almost four, so I think I beat you there,” he says. But there’s a relieved smile on his face, his eyes curving prettily as he reaches for your hand. “Then… do you want to dance?”

“No romcom shenanigans,” you warn, but you allow yourself to be tugged out to the dance floor next to your friends with a smile.

Hyunjin’s grin as you twirl him around under the burning neon lights suddenly makes it seem like everything will just... magically be okay. If you had just been a little more courageous (or a little less stupid), maybe you could’ve seen it earlier.

But good things come with time and patience. And with all the patience you’ve had, waiting for this to happen, the way you finally feel with him makes it all worth it.