#it’s snowing on saturday supposedly

[buckyschair]

i’m ready for a debaucherous summer. why is it the dead of winter

[adidastain]

you wouldn’t know her

1997 daron malakian x fem reader (rachel)

warnings: mentions of drugs and drug use

notes: third person perspective (he, she, they, etc.) - both POVs

word count: 3766

—

They’re always fucking late.

Daron pulled the sleeve of his hoodie up to check his watch and see, yep. 8 minutes late. His gaze made its way to the shivering girl next to him, the furry hood of her humongous red parka blowing in the wind. Where the hell are they?

He took a moment longer to look at her: her long dark hair, messied by a pair of earmuffs; her breath as it escaped her lips in a frosty cloud; her dirty, beat-up Converse. And her Lakers crewneck, which was actually his. He thought she looked better in it than he did anyway.

“I’m sorry,” the boy said in a sheepish laugh. The last thing Daron wanted was to keep her out in the cold for this long, but there was nothing he could really do except wait.

“It’s okay,” Rachel said. Her elbow brushed his as she lifted her hands to breathe into them. “Could we sit down?”

Rachel always found herself having weaker knees when the weather was colder. That, and she’d just finished a 9 hour long shift at the 7-Eleven. 9 whole hours of just standing. No one really even came to the store that day anyway, because of the snow. Regardless, she was getting paid. That’s all she really cared about.

She watched Daron wipe some of the snow off of the bench, before sitting down in the corner. It was an L-shaped bench that really felt quite cramped in the compact glass box with a metal roof that many called a ‘bus stop’.

They were not waiting for the bus, however. They were waiting for Serj and Shavo, who were supposed to pick them up 8 minutes ago.

Daron opened his arm up for Rachel to sit next to him, attempting to keep her warm with his own body heat. While her many layers of clothing and puffy nose were quite cute, he didn’t want her to get sick. All because of his stupid friends, who were probably late on purpose.

As intended, she pressed her body as far as she could against his. Like penguins, he thought.

“We probably could have made it there by now if we just walked,” Daron sighed, looking out at the freeway in the distance. Headlights and taillights following each other down long stretches of road, going up, up, up along the side of the mountains. He wondered if one of the pairs of headlights could be his friends.

Rachel let out a small laugh, her face practically buried in her coat. Her body was in an almost vibrating state, goosebumps covering every inch of her covered skin.

Daron wasn’t nearly as cold himself as he thought Rachel might’ve been. She was being so quiet, which was strange. Maybe she was secretly mad at him. Annoyed at him for making her have to sit here in the freezing cold snowfall for this long at 11PM on a Saturday.

“I’m sorry,” Daron said again, a long moment of silence preceding his uttering.

“It’s fine, Daron,” Rachel hummed, leaning further into his shoulder. The girl lifted her head to look up at the boy whose arms she was in. “There’s just a small breeze, ‘M just a little chilly.”

She wore a teasing grin, knowing full well that he knew that she was freezing her ass off. Daron laughed and looked down somewhere at his feet, idly shuffling them.

Rachel wasn’t close enough to him. Her body was so cold and numb that she could barely feel his warmth next to her. He wasn’t wearing nearly as many layers as her, either. He was wearing a beanie and a big black hoodie over the clothes he wore to perform, which were just some jeans and a gray long sleeve tee.

“Could I sit in your lap?” she asked. It was a lot to ask, but desperate times call for desperate measures. She figured if he was fine with their many, very secret, excessively cuddly dates at Daron’s apartment, he’d be fine with this.

It was a big jump, however. They’d never kissed, not even on the cheek. But it would just be this one time. To keep warm while waiting for Serj and Shavo, who were supposedly on their way.

Where are they? A sense of panic arose in Daron, wondering if they’d gotten in a car accident or something. Maybe they were lurking somewhere around the corner, watching him. Did she just ask to sit in his lap?

Truthfully, he didn’t think much more before pulling her into his lap, not even responding ‘yes’ or ‘no’. He instantly felt his breath and his speech leave him as she relaxed, her weight settling into him. Rachel buried her face into his shoulder, her arms wrapping around his lean torso.

Don’t, he thought. This was an innocent thing. There was absolutely nothing about this situation that would in any way excuse what he knew was coming. Don’t even think about it.

She was basically sitting on his knees, because of the awkwardness of the bench. She’d have to put her knees on the bench in order for her to sit closer. Would it be awkward? Maybe. But it hadn’t even been 5 seconds, and the feeling of Daron’s bony-ass kneecaps digging into her thighs was not a pleasant one.

Rachel shifted so that she was closer, now sitting on his upper thighs, just below his hips. She felt kind of powerful, being so close to something so dangerous. Dangerous to her, at least, at this moment. Imagine.

She pulled herself even closer, wishing she could just, like, absorb him. Become one with him. She felt warmer, yes, but every time they ever cuddled, she never felt like she was close enough to him. But this was about as close as they had ever been, and it would have to do.

Between her being dangerously close to actually sitting on his actual dick, and her burying her face further and further into the crook of his neck, Daron could barely even think. In just 30 minutes, he would have to be on stage. Why couldn’t he just be here? Why couldn’t Serj and Shavo just… not show up?

Yeah, and miss the biggest, most important show yet. God. He couldn’t bear to imagine the sheer amount of people he would come face to face with in just 30 minutes.

Could it be any more nerve-racking than this, though? Sitting under a rusty bus stop roof with his girl sitting in his lap for fuck’s sake. The girl who, for months, only knew Daron as a customer, and was only known to Daron as the really, really pretty clerk from the 7-Eleven on the edge of town, who was there every day, except Wednesdays and Sundays.

“Daron?” Rachel hummed.

“Rachel,” he replied.

Rachel took a deep breath, before asking, “Are you single?”

What kind of silly question is that?

“Well, shit. It’s complicated,” Daron answered, slightly amused by her needless curiosity. His answer, however, was not a good one. It seemed that it was not obvious to her that he was hers.

Rachel sat up, giving Daron a look of confusion and hurt, her eyebrows knit tightly together. “What do you mean?”

Shit.

“See, there’s this girl I’ve been talking to,” Daron stated, subtly wrapping his arms around her. “I like her a lot. She’s really rad n’ stuff. Works at the 7-Eleven.”

With that, Rachel felt relief. Right. Of course he was talking about her. He’s such an idiot. She was such an idiot.

Daron continued, smiling as he saw Rachel’s smile return as well. “She sells me cigarettes all the time. She steals my clothes, though. And she bites me. I dunno why, but I guess it’s kinda cute,” he beams. “She makes me really nervous.”

The truth was coming out now. He wasn’t sure why he felt so nervous around her. Maybe he was in love with her or something.

Daron found himself staring at her as she blushed and smiled, his words falling out of his mouth and drifting to her like feathers. A nearby street light illuminated Rachel’s face in just the most unbelievably perfect way Daron could fathom. His voice fell soft as he continued, speaking quietly, but with passion.

“N’ she’s got the best smile. N’ the nicest laugh. And I wish my stupid friends would hurry their asses up so I can get her out of the cold!” he said, raising his voice and gritting his teeth.

“Shh!” Rachel laughed, snorting slightly. Daron loved that. “You are so annoying.”

Daron let his head rest against the glass behind him, relaxing as he just looked at her, appreciating her. He imagined just leaning in and going for it. No, he scolded himself. It was too soon.

Right?

“Well, I’ll have you know that I’m talking to someone too,” Rachel declared, crossing her arms.

“Oh yeah?” Daron grinned, his hands mindlessly resting atop her legs.

“Mhm,” she hummed. “There’s this guy. Pretty cool, he’s in a band.”

Daron raised his eyebrows. “Are they any good?” he asked her, knowing full well she was referring to System of a Down.

“Eh… they’re alright,” Rachel stated, biting her lip in order to hide the uncontrollable grin she was sporting. She wrapped her arms around Daron’s neck and came just a little bit closer to him. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been to any of their shows. But this guy… I dunno. There’s just something about him.”

“Well, tell me more,” Daron requested, avoiding the topic of shows. “He sounds interesting.”

“Oh, he is. He’s a strange little dude. He likes to wear suspenders and glittery rubber bengal bracelets and paint his whole head fuckin’ silver,” she tells him. “But I like that about him. And he’s really talented and funny and… sexy.”

Daron’s eyes shot open and a grin came over his face. “You think he’s sexy?” he laughed. “You must really like this guy.”

Rachel nodded, unable to control her smile. “I do. A lot. It’s hard to believe he’s real sometimes.”

She stared into his big, dark eyes. Something about the way the light hit them in that moment gave her butterflies. That was just Daron. The boy with the big eyes and the crooked teeth and the silver-painted fingernails. The boy that treated her way better than she deserved.

Rachel felt her face get hot at the thought of this, ultimately burying her face in his neck once more. She adored him so much, but she didn’t want him to see that. He knew it, though. He knew he made her blush and giggle and kick her feet like a schoolgirl with a stupid dopey crush. No matter how hard she tried to hide it, he could tell.

Suddenly, a pair of headlights zipped past the bus stop, causing the two to jump slightly. Definitely not, Daron thought as he wondered if it could be his friends.

Strangely, he felt relieved that Serj and Shavo were still late. He’d be able to sit here with Rachel in his arms for just a bit longer, with no teasing or rumors or interruptions.

The boys knew about Rachel, but they knew very little. They didn’t know Daron was practically head over heels for the girl. They didn’t know that she’s spent several hours with him in his home, glued to him. They didn’t need to know all that stuff.

“So, like, are you my boyfriend now, or…? What’s goin’ on?” Rachel suddenly asked, sitting up with her eyes narrowed in a false act of obliviousness. She put her hands out with her shoulders shrugged, asking for clarification, as if it wasn’t obvious enough already.

“Hmm,” Daron hummed. “You’re asking me this as if I wasn’t yours already.”

Another snorty laugh came from Rachel. She’s adorable. It was hard for Daron to imagine why he would want to be anywhere else right now. Fuck the concert. Fuck Serj and Shavo.

He lifted his head up off of the glass, leaning closer to her to press his forehead against hers. She was just around the same height as him normally, but now, on his lap, he had to look up at her. Daron was more than okay with that.

“Fuck that stupid gig,” he sighed, wrapping his arms around her as he let his eyes fall closed.

Rachel stared at his face below her, taking in every single detail she could make out, being this close to him. The freckles strewn across his nose, his eyelashes, the scar on his upper lip, the stubble on his chin. She could even see his chest and collarbone, initially covered by the hoodie until she had a higher view. He’s so beautiful.

Daron’s eyes opened to meet hers as her cold hands fell to gently caress his face. Rachel wasn’t the type of girl who’d only want the guy to make the first move, but she was definitely competitive. She wanted to see how long it would take before one of them gave in and kissed the other, because if right now wasn’t the perfect time, then when?

Several moments passed, consisting of just staring. It felt like minutes had gone by. God knows Daron wanted to lean in and break the space between them, but he just… couldn’t. What if he misses? What if she doesn’t like it? What if he’s a really bad kisser? Just do it, damn it. This is so stupid.

He thought about that animated movie about the mermaid and what have you. Daron imagined a little crab sitting on his shoulder, singing and urging him to kiss de gal before the Sun sets on the third and final day.

“Are you just gonna stare at me until the boys get here?” Rachel asked.

Rachel was no mermaid, and Daron was certainly no prince. In her mind, he was. She felt like a princess when she was with him.

“Are you just gonna stare at me?” Daron repeated the question.

“Yep,” Rachel answered.

“Then yes,” he declared. A smirk grew on his lips. It didn’t last long, however. He found himself once again lost in her eyes, unable to keep any other expression other than awestruck. “I told you this girl makes me nervous.”

His speech was reduced to a mumble, not wanting to disrupt the low and lax energy of the moment with his otherwise loud, high-pitched, and indeed disruptive voice.

Daron continued, looking away from her eyes occasionally, looking instead to her lips, her neck, his lap. “Do you know what it’s like knowing that soon, you’ll be in the vicinity of the most beautiful, smart, charming girl on the entire fucking planet, Rachel? I don’t think you understand,” he stated, laughing his nerves off.

“No, I don’t think I do. You’ll have to educate me,” Rachel said, biting her lip in a grin. She knew he liked her, but she wanted to know exactly how he felt in his own words. She also wanted to know what was stopping him from just going for it and kissing her already God damn it.

“It’s like… It’s like if, like, fuzzy bugs are eating you from the inside out. And it tickles. It makes you want to throw up and laugh and cry at the same time,” Daron explained. “It’s like, sickening. But in a really good way.”

Rachel watched his body language as he said these things. The way his eyes darted around, the way he tripped over his words, and the way he mindlessly picked at his nail polish, fidgeting.

“You wouldn’t know her, though,” he stated, grinning.

“No, I wouldn’t, would I?” Rachel laughed, her thumbs brushing back and forth against his scarlet cheeks.

“Nope,” Daron answered.

As Rachel calmed from her soft laughter, an unignorable sense of urgency came over Daron. They should be here any minute now. Now. He had to do it now. He wouldn’t get another chance. The boys will finally show up, and his chance will be gone. Forever.

A gentle touch of the jaw by his fingertips was enough to hold her pretty face in place as he lurched forward, the space between them finally closing as his lips met hers. It was a short-lived kiss, but all that needed to be said was said. It was short and gentle, but passionate, and to the point. It was done.

Rachel felt as though every single nerve ending in her body had just combusted. It burned, it tickled, it took her breath away and left her speechless. For fuck’s sake. It was so much, but at the same time, not enough. She needed more.

There wasn’t much hesitation before another kiss was shared between them, but who started it? It was unclear. That didn’t matter, though. Who gives a fuck?

Rachel always found that snow makes everything quieter. It makes everything so peaceful. Especially now, as she sat in the lap of the boy she’d been stuck on for months, kissing him. The faint smooching and clicking noises made by their lips each time they separated was so quiet and soft, but loud enough to knock the wind out of her every single time.

Daron was holding the entire fucking world in his hands. He felt light, like a high, but at the same time, heavy, like he was drunk. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, and he, quite frankly, couldn't give a shit less. His body felt like it was melting, limb by limb, and then being shocked back into place by some highly addictive electrical current.

In reality, it was only a few seconds before they naturally slowed down and pulled away, looking into each other’s eyes once again. Rachel couldn’t find her breath or her words. She hid in his shoulder once again, catching her breath.

Where is she going? Daron’s mind quickly wandered, the adrenaline in his system adding gas to the fire that was his anxiety. Did she not like it? Shit. He knew he was a bad kisser. He shouldn’t have kissed her. He shouldn’t have even thought about it. It was too soon.

“You okay?” he asked carefully, holding his breath. His arms wrapped around her waist.

Rachel quickly sat up, looking dazed. “That was hot,” she declared, grinning.

Daron nearly choked on his own breath. His humor was definitely rubbing off on her. The absolute absurdity of the statement and confidence she boasted caught him off guard. It was definitely something he would have said.

“I dunno, man. This guy is just… wow,” Rachel sighed, shrugging. All Daron could do was laugh. It was adorably stupid, how she kept this act up.

He found himself staring at her again. Rachel planted a tiny kiss on Daron’s forehead, before pressing hers to it, their cold, scarlet noses brushing together.

“Imagine they’ve just been watching us this whole time,” Daron suggested, laughing it off. It was entirely possible. The boys had been overly protective of him ever since his last relationship, when he was fresh out of high school and the band was called Soil. Maybe it was because he was the youngest. The most valuable. The sexiest, funniest, most talented, coolest one in the group. He made himself laugh with his thoughts sometimes.

“Well, if they want a show, we’ll give them a show,” Rachel beamed, leaning in for another kiss.

An incredibly fucking loud car horn blared at them as wet tires made their way down the street Jesus fucking Christ.

The two practically flew out of their pants, quickly standing up as to not be seen by whoever just rudely interrupted a beautiful moment.

“Motherfuckin’ 369 baby!” yelled one of the passengers of the car.

“That’s them,” Daron huffed, his heart racing after being scared shitless by his idiot friends. For fuck’s sake. Serj’s beat up car came into view as it pulled over by the curb in front of the bus stop.

“Are you bitches pumped or what?” Shavo yelled out of the passenger seat window.

“So pumped,” Rachel said, oh so enthusiastically. She was clearly not happy with them.

She’s pissed. Daron took a step forward and opened one of the backseat doors for her to climb in. He felt uneasy. Not only was the moment ruined, but now he had to go and perform in front of a fuck ton of people.

“We’re gonna be late,” Serj announced, seeming quite unamused as well.

“And who’s fault is that?” Rachel laughed, taking her coat off as the car started moving again. The car was stuffy and smelled like dust, cigarettes, and sweaty gym clothes. Men.

“I’m so coked out,” Shavo admitted, very amused and very shameless.

Of course. Of course he had to be fucking high.

Daron would be too, truthfully. He kinda wished he was, so he wouldn’t feel so sickeningly nervous.

“How about I just come to the show?” Rachel suggested, in order to buy them time. “I’ll hang out backstage or something.

Originally, they were supposed to drop her off at home, but now that they were nearly 20 minutes late, they wouldn’t make it there and to the venue by the time they had to start warming up.

“Don’t you have to work in the morning? The show ends at 1,” Daron informed her. The idea of her seeing him perform made him all the more stressed and nervous. “We probably won’t even finish takedown until 2.”

Of course he wanted her to come, but… he didn’t feel ready. He felt shy about playing in front of her. He had a very outlandish stage persona that was just part of the show that everyone sort of expected. What if she thought it was weird? Maybe she’d be impressed.

“So? I’ve never been able to see you guys. I definitely wanna see you now that I know Shavo’s already fucked up,” Rachel laughed. From what she could hear on the numerous demo tapes and CDs that Daron gave to her, they had an awesome sound. She heard from friends that they put on a crazy show, too. She assumed so, especially with Daron’s crazy outfits and Shavo’s excessive use of (hopefully) controlled substances.

Daron just nodded. Did he not want her to come? Why?

“If you’re cool with it, man. That actually works out perfectly,” Serj stated, pulling off onto the main road to get to the venue.

Fuck. Daron was fucked. He was so, so, so fucked.

[allthewriteplaces]

Magnolia In May - Chapter One

Hello, everyone! I have been working since May to create this fanfiction and now, I am here to share it with you all! 🤍 That being said, thank you for being so patient with me while I try and pluck up my courage and get over writer's block to post this.

My story takes place in between seasons 5 and 6, with a few changes here and there because yes.

Story summary: Jessie Bennet lives in the English countryside with her uncle, her aunt and her five cousins. But one day in May, an unexpected visitor shows up on her doorstep, one who's about to change the course of her life forever.

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 4551

Chapter One

I first met Thomas Shelby a year ago. It was a supposedly ordinary day in early May, the time of year when spring made its debut in the form of warm, flowery breezes, budding leaves on the treetops and scattered rain showers throughout. The days were getting longer, the nights were slowly shrinking back away, and the sun was starting to make more of an appearance, a rare sight in England, considering it was under a seemingly near constant cover of clouds. Even in the winter, it always seemed to be cloudy. Cold enough to snow, but I hadn’t seen snow on the ground since I was small. 

Because of the sunshine streaming into our bedrooms, me and the rest of my family had risen earlier than usual to get a head start on the daily chores. 

Everyone had a job to do and we ran on a tight schedule, like a crew on the Navy ships, especially on the Holy days, when the main goal was to get everyone ready and out the door in time for Sunday Service. Today was Saturday, and while I would have been more than happy to spend a few more hours in bed, there was plenty of work to be done around the cottage. 

I had spent the better part of my life here. Just before my parents died, my mother took my hands in her cold, clammy ones, I looked into her greying eyes as the hazy film began to cloud over them, and she told me I was going to live with my Uncle Albert, my Aunt Elizabeth, whom everyone else called her ‘Eliza,’ and my two older cousins, Sarah and David, in Warwickshire, the heart of the English countryside. 

She said the cottage was surrounded by miles and miles of tall fruit trees, rolling hills and lush green fields and a lake nearby. She promised that it would be my sanctuary, my own paradise, somewhere I can let all of my troubles go. 

Of course when I got there that cool, autumn morning, I was intrigued by the beauty of it all. The main road ran through orchards, past rivers and lakes, and continued onto the next town. Now and then, there were the occasional settlements where our neighbours lived and I could see the fires at night or could hear the lively music. I automatically sensed that this was where people came to get away from the stress of city life. 

Aunt Eliza, that’s what I called her, had already had her fair share of stress, her first husband died from something called consumption, leaving her with my older cousins to raise by herself on a maid’s salary. She was a pretty and sensitive woman, but though I wouldn’t call her a fighter, she was strong in her own way. 

She had this natural-born ability to put anyone at ease just by being in the same room as they were. That first night at the new place, when my homesickness was at its absolute worst, she let me sleep in the big bed with her so I would feel safe, saying. “It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay.” 

Eliza came from a big family and had been raised Protestant by her parents in Glasgow, but after she met Uncle Theo, her first husband, she had sacrificed everything they knew and loved, to give their six kids, including my mother, a better life. My best memories of them were when my mother and I drove all the way across the Highlands to visit them during summer holidays and at Christmastime. 

Uncle Albert came into the picture shortly after Sarah got married and set off on her own path. The only trouble was, he was Catholic. The battle between Catholics and Protestants was rooted in history, and I wasn’t sure the reason, but it didn’t stop Eliza from falling in love with him. Like Romeo and Juliet, they went against their parent’s wishes and married in secret in a beautiful chapel. After which she eventually converted to catholicism. 

Tension was high in the family once my grandparents found out about the marriage, it was common for disputes to start, sometimes from the smallest thing, and during those arguments, which seem so petty now, I would be sent to my room to play and asked that I play as loud as I could so I wouldn’t hear the fighting. 

Eventually, I had enough and actually ran away from home. It was stupid, really, I shouldn’t have done it, but I just couldn’t stand it. It was Uncle Albert who found me, soaked to the skin and sick as a dog from being out in the rain for so long. 

The only good thing about it, was that for once, they weren’t shouting at each other, they were all hovering over me and my grandfather was calling for a doctor. Me running away seemed to snap them out of it, if only for just a few minutes, I still remember opening my teary eyes and saying, “Why doesn’t anyone love each other anymore?” 

That was when it hit them, just how much this was impacting me, a small child of ten years old, who was somehow trapped in the middle of this feud that had nothing whatsoever to do with me, and doing whatever it took in an attempt to stop it. 

Tears were shed and everyone embraced each other. A truce was formed that day. No more yelling, no more shouting. And to this day, we still see each other around the holidays. 

It was nearly six o’clock when I rolled over in bed, roused by the sunlight streaming in through the thin veil of curtains covering my bedroom window. The sky had taken on glorious shades of pink, orange and violet, casting shadows on the canopy and on the striped walls. I didn’t want to move from that spot, I wanted to stay in bed where it was nice and comfortable, but the second I heard three-month-old Violet, the baby of the family, babbling in her crib, I lifted the sheets back and rolled out, making sure the sheets were tucked in and there weren’t any wrinkles as I tucked the corners of them into the mattress. 

Making my way out of my room, shutting the door tightly behind me, her little voice carried through the hallway. She wasn’t in distress or anything, she was only talking to herself. When I stepped into her room and peeked into her crib, she was laying flat on her back, eyes wide open and a bright smile on her face. 

“Someone's wide awake, eh?” I said and her smile brightened. 

Look, I know I wasn’t supposed to have a favourite cousin, but from the moment I had watched her enter the world -- it was the first time I’d seen a baby be born, ever, so it was all brand new to me, I felt this strong connection to her, and this overwhelming sense of responsibility to protect her from any sort of harm that might come to her. 

Reaching down into the crib, I picked her up with both hands and held her against my chest, ensuring her head and neck were supported, seeing as how she wasn’t quite strong enough to hold her head up on her own just yet. 

“Mama says we need to find your pink cardigan to wear. I believe I put it in the closet after bringing it inside, but I’m not sure.” I added in a calm, soothing voice as she yawned and nuzzled her head against my chest. I bounced her lightly on my hip and went over to the dresser, opening the middle drawer and pulling out her fuzzy pink cardigan as well as a new nappy. 

“Jessie!” I turned to the doorway and saw Alice standing there with her hands on her hips. She looked so much like my aunt when she did that it wasn't funny. “Marie stole my hair ribbon again!” 

“Did not!” Marie yelled, stomping her foot. 

“Did, too!” Her sister yelled back. “You take them all the time!” 

“Not this time!” Marie shook her head. She was on the verge of tears. 

“Surrender now or suffer the consequences!!” Suddenly, the door burst open and Henry, who'd just turned six, started running around the room, followed by his twin brother, William. Both of them were still wearing their nightshirts, their hair was still spiky and stuck up in odd places, and as they chased one another around the room, they brandished wooden swords. 

Like most boys their age, they were always running around the house with their toy cars, trucks and planes, or roughhousing with each other. Roughhousing wasn’t allowed indoors and there were strict rules, set by my uncle, as to how far they could go before they would be told to end the game to prevent anyone from getting hurt. Their sisters were always welcome to join in the fun, and sometimes they did if the game they were playing was interesting enough for them, but most of the time it was just the two of them, conjuring mischief. 

“No! I won fair and square,” William argued, folding his arms across his chest, his voice raising in volume. He had a loud voice for a six-year-old and he knew exactly how to use it when he thought it was necessary. 

“No! I won!” Henry insisted.  “Admit it, you cheated!”

“I didn’t cheat, you did, you mongrel!” 

“I’m not a mongrel, you are!” 

“Mongel!” Marie repeated, pointing to Henry, then to William, then to Alice. 

“Stop saying bad words!” Alice gasped. “I’ll tell Mama!” 

“Oi! What did I say about calling your brother names?” I said. 

“He started it!” said Henry, pointing a finger at William. 

“And where did you hear such foul language?” 

“Timmy Munson,” he replied, twirling the wooden sword in his other hand. 

“Yeah,” said William. “He called his brother, Davy, that word last Sunday on the way back from Church. Then he wrestled him to the ground and got all muddy and dirty. His parents didn’t even bat an eye. They were too busy ” 

That explains it. 

Timmy Munson was nearly sixteen and was referred to as the ‘leader of the pack.’ or the town’s trouble maker by the adults around him. He swore, he smoked, he stole his father’s liquor and teased the girls at church something terrible, with the parents seemingly oblivious to what was going on, or decidedly ignoring his rebellious behaviour, hence why neither Henry, nor William were allowed to play with Timmy, and the girls weren’t allowed to speak to him. 

My aunt and uncle thought he was a bad influence and they were right. There were rumours that he was dating Misty Bradford, Father Bradford’s daughter. At Church, we called all the leaders ‘Father.’ His daughter, Misty, was fifteen, not quite old enough to start dating yet, but Alice once told me that she heard her say that he was handsome, but also, that he was the sort of boy that would date you for five minutes and then as soon as a prettier girl would come along, he would leave you without a second thought. 

On the other hand, I was glad that Misty was a sensible girl who wouldn’t fall to the temptations of the neighbourhood scoundrel, but on the other hand, I wondered if the reason why Timmy acted out was because it was the only way he got his parents’ attention. Maybe that was just my instincts kicking in, but if that was the case, I would certainly feel terrible for the poor lad. Even still, I wanted to discourage the boys from picking up such nasty habits and words. 

“Right, well, just because Timmy Munson says something or does something, doesn’t mean you should, eh?” I said, gently placing my hands on William’s shoulders and looking him square in the eyes. He met my gaze unflinchingly, which told me he was really listening to what I was saying to him. “Don’t try to be someone you’re not just to fit in. You are a sweet and caring young man, and we need more caring men in this world nowadays.” 

“Really?” he asked. 

“Really.” I nodded my head in confirmation. “Besides, girls love boys who are sweet, kind and caring and who get along with their brothers and sisters. At least that’s what I’ve heard.” 

He nodded and tapped his chin thoughtfully. “I say, let’s call it a tie, then.” 

William shrugged his shoulders microscopically. “Sounds fair,” 

“Now shake hands. Like the good sports you are.” 

They shook hands, laughing to themselves, signalling a truce. 

“GAAAAAAH!” Violet shrieked near my ear, kicking her feet and looking at her brothers as I delicately pulled her arms through the sleeves of her nightgown, putting it in a basket so I could take it to the laundry tub and wash it later on. 

I wasn’t sure if she was telling them to stop, or if she was taking a side in the disagreement. I placed her down on the bed along with her new clothes. Hearing her little shriek, both of the boys climbed up on the bed next to her. Henry nuzzled her tummy with his nose and William tickled her with his finger, making silly faces and noises. Her eyes crinkled and I could see the giggles bubbling up inside her, like the lava bubbling up inside a volcano and after a few seconds, she exploded into shrieks of laughter. 

“Anyone puts a tear in your eye,” Henry vowed, “will live to regret it.” 

“Yeah,” William agreed. “We’ll protect you. Like good big brothers.” 

Good, I thought, That’s one problem solved. 

Small disagreements were common among the four of them, and it was nothing I couldn’t handle, but it was too early for them to start bickering, and for some reason, I could feel this tension in the house, like something was about to happen, and they must have felt it, too, because normally, they were all well-behaved. 

“Right, Marie, I’m going to ask you once. Did you take Alice’s hair ribbon?” 

“No,” she answered, looking me straight in the eyes, which told me she was telling me the truth and that this time she was innocent. She had a habit of taking her sister’s hair ribbons when hers got lost, it was something that started a little 

“Are you sure?” She nodded affirmatively and I addressed Alice. “Alice, Marie says she didn’t take the ribbon, are you sure it’s not in your room? Perhaps it fell out while you were sleeping. See if it’s in your bed.” 

“Okay,” Alice said slowly and then quickly ran back to her room with Marie running after her. Soon, both of the girls returned, both wearing relieved expressions on their faces, though Alice appeared to be a tad more embarrassed than her sister. She glanced down at the ground, a tad embarrassed and then she met Marie’s eyes. “I’m sorry I accused you. I just thought that maybe since you steal my ribbons all the time that you stole this one.” 

“It’s okay,” the younger one replied, accepting her sister’s apology and embracing her. Internally, I sighed in relief. Like I said, small disagreements were common, but nonetheless, I was glad that it was over and we could all continue on with our day as if nothing had happened. 

“Alright, all of you go into your rooms while I finish getting the baby ready and then I will be in shortly,” I declared and the boys slid off the bed, bringing their toy swords with them. The girls followed suit, going into their own room. I turned to Violet, who was recovering from giggling so much. “Never a dull moment, eh, sweetheart?” 

Trust me, making sure all of my younger cousins were dressed in clean clothes and had their hair combed before breakfast, was a lot easier said than done. 

She babbled on while I dressed her and I sang an upbeat song. It didn’t take much to keep her entertained and knowing how to keep her engaged made it easier for me to wash and dress her. After a moment, I managed to slip the cardigan on, then taking her in my arms again, I brought her down to the dining-room where Albert was reading the paper. 

“Isn’t it a little early for that, Uncle?” I asked. 

“It’s five o’clock somewhere, love,” he replied, setting his gin down and then taking the baby in his arms, lifting her into the air and bringing her down again, kissing her cheeks. “There’s my little princess.” 

“You are not to drink that around the baby,” my aunt said, coming into the room and taking away the glass before turning to me. “Glad to see you’re wide awake, darling. How’re the children, they’re not giving you a hard time, are they?” 

“Nah. We had a tiny dispute with a ribbon and swords, but it’s all sorted.” 

“Jessie, what would we do without you?” she patted my cheek and then stepped back into the kitchen. 

Smiling and with one child ready, I went to check on Alice and Marie. Alice was the oldest at seven years old and fancied herself to be quite grown up in comparison to her siblings. She was an exact replica of her mother -- curly red hair, green eyes and freckles dotting her cheeks and loved helping me with the chores like laundry, making the beds, and occasionally cooking. 

She sat patiently on the chair in front of the mirror and her eyes met mine in the glass as the soft bristles of the brush swept across her hair. Adding a little bit of water to the brush helped to smooth out any tangles and maintain her pretty locks. 

Marie handed me the red ribbons while I braided Alice's hair in two even plaits down her back. However, when it was her turn, she wasn't as eager to be in the same room as me. In seconds, she'd already darted down the hall. 

 “Come along, Marie.”

“No! I don’t want to!” She shouted in protest and sat down in the middle of the floor, kicking her legs as I approached her. This was typical three-year-old behaviour, according to my friends who were already married and mother's, and these days, Marie had resorted to these sorts of tactics whenever things weren't going her way.  

Discipline wasn't exactly my forte. I tended to prefer negotiating or compromising rather than escalating the conflicts further by scolding. More often than not, it worked, but perhaps today the odds weren't in my favour.  

Without saying a word, I sat down on the ground, not engaging in conversation or looking at her until she stopped kicking. She laid on her stomach, her whole body now limp on the hardwood floor. 

“Now, Marie, is this the way young ladies behave?” I asked her, keeping my tone firm yet gentle. I was compelled to rub her back and soothe her, but coddling her and talking to her as if she were a baby would only encourage the tantrums or make them worse. “You don’t see your sister acting like that, do you?” 

She didn't answer me, but not because she was ignoring my question, but because she was considering the way she'd handled the issue. A few moments later, I tried again, hoping to get to the bottom of this. 

“Do you want to tell me why you don't want your hair brushed?”

“It will hurt.” I heard her sad, muffled voice reply. 

“Not if I use the soft brush,” I promised, then added, “what if I let you do it yourself like a big girl?”

 That seemed to draw her attention and she sat up and nodded. 

“You can wear red ribbons, too!” Alice added, doing her best to be helpful. 

“Yay!” She stood, taking my hand and soon enough, we were back in the girls' room, showing Marie how to brush her own hair. Then I braided it for her and put the ribbons in. At the same time, the boys came in, dressed and with their hair combed. 

“Well then, now that we're all dressed, shall we go down to breakfast?” 

“Yes,” they all answered unanimously and I led the procession downstairs. 

This time, it was the boys' turn to go to the henhouse to collect the eggs. 

They stepped into the hallway, slipping on their jackets and boots and followed Albert out the back door. The hens could sometimes be unpredictable and that would frighten the boys so he would always supervise. 

In the meantime, I would go to help my aunt prepare the biscuits and wash the strawberries and the girls would be in charge of setting the table. Alice carried in the forks and knives, while Marie was entrusted to carry in the napkins. 

“Well done!” I said once I stepped in to check the progress. Both girls smiled proudly at their accomplishment and they grinned at the praise. When we all worked together as a unit, things ran smoothly. 

Moments later, we all sat down at the table and held hands, bowing our heads low and closing our eyes as Albert led us in prayer, as was the tradition at family mealtimes. “Bless us, Lord of all Creation, and be with us as we share this meal. We thank you for our food and ask your blessing on those who prepared it. We thank you for the gift of our family. Amen.” 

Even little Violet knew what to do, well, in her own little way, of course. She sat in her chair and raised her hands up high, clapping them and uttering an exclamation of joy. For what was supposed to be a serious moment, she sure knew how to lighten things up. 

Topics of conversation usually involved upcoming and current events, anything Albert could gather from the paper, and plans for the day. I knew that I needed to do a bit more washing today and we needed to check on the chickens. 

“Due to a close call with a fox last night, we need to go out in the backyard to check on the coop. I suspect some of the wiring has been messed with and so we might need to replace it. That will be our task today, boys,” he said, and then glanced at William and Henry, who nodded. 

“Is the fox okay?” asked Marie, whose main concern didn’t necessarily match all the others’ who were more relieved that the fox hadn’t managed to carry off one of our hens. She was a very sensitive child and loved all animals, including those that some might consider pests. 

Foxes were among the ones she cared about the most. 

A few months ago, she heard one crying not far from the house and found that it was caught in a trap. She was distressed, tears streaming down her cheeks and breathing so fast, I thought she might faint. 

“Please,” she said, hands folded together, begging. “We have to save it!” 

“It would make a lovely coat,” William joked, but Marie didn’t find his attempt to lighten the mood the least bit funny. In fact, she was this close to smacking him across the face, and the Good Lord knows that she probably would have had my aunt not been present.  

“They’re God’s creatures, too,” she said passionately, appalled by the injustice she was seeing before her and by the fact that her older brother, although he meant no harm by the statement, was mocking the poor thing. “Daddy, please, we have to save it before it’s too late.” 

Fortunately, using a few tools from the garden shed, Albert managed to free the fox, but its leg was badly wounded. That is where my aunt came in. 

She knew exactly what to do when it came to nursing wounded and baby animals back to health. She grabbed some gauze from the First Aid kit, placed it over the wound, and wrapped a bandage around the leg. 

Of course it would be too dangerous to release it until it was all better, so it was agreed that the critter would stay for a couple of weeks. It was nice having her around. We called her Pumpkin, because of the orange colour of her fur and because we’d found her in the autumn, so it made sense her namesake would match the season. 

Let’s just say it was hard for us to let her go, especially for Marie. 

Now we sat at the table and part of me suspected that Marie hoped we would get another chance to look after a fox. Albert set down his knife and fork and nodded. “It looked as though he’d managed to free himself just in the nick of time, so yes, I would say he is perfectly fine.” 

“And he will continue to be fine. As long as the little rascal doesn’t get into the coop again,” my aunt added with a light-hearted smile. “Right then…” 

Just then, the telephone in the living room rang. 

“Alice, could you go get that, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Mama,” she got out of her chair, walking past Violet, who had now amused herself by looking down at her toes, and picked it up on the second ring, a second later, she called out, “It’s for you, Papa!” 

“Who on Earth could be calling at this hour?” she asked, confused as he cleared his throat, setting down his napkin and then taking the phone from Alice. 

He spoke in a low voice, so it was impossible for any of us to hear anything, but we all remained silent and still, that is until he came back into the dining-room, looked at my aunt and then nodded, as though conveying some sort of secret message. 

“Help me clear the table, children,” was all she said and the younger ones did as they were told. There was that tension in the air again. It was even more palpable this time as she hurriedly turned on the tap and added soap to the mix. I immediately stood from the table and helped her scrub the plates and utensils clean. 

“What’s the matter?” I asked. Behind me, the children continued to bring the glasses over. The only one who seemed oblivious to what was going on, was Violet, who was smashing her fists quite aggressively against the tray of her chair and shrieking loudly, in an attempt to get someone’s attention. 

“I am expecting someone important,” Albert said, while my aunt immediately opened the cabinet for a bottle of gin. Before I could utter another word, he waved a hand towards the staircase in a dismissive and almost urgent sort of way. “Go upstairs and play in the Nursery. Neither of you are allowed to come downstairs until your mama and I say so. Understand?”

“Yes, Papa,” the children said softly. 

“Who is coming over?” Henry inquired. 

“Is it someone from work?” added Marie. 

“Maybe it’s Grandpa and Granny,” said Alice excitedly. 

“Off you go,” he said. 

Without questioning him, I nodded and took the kids upstairs to the nursery, shutting the door tightly behind me.

~ To Be Continued ~

[swetty88]

Steven Universe Future Timeline (Including the Movie) [Short version]

We recently made a timeline for the events of Steven Universe Future, including the movie. It was very entertaining to find the exact dates, but we have to admit, it was a very long post that I had to remove a bit of the formatting to comply with the character limit, also, it takes a long time to read. So I made a condensed, shorter and better formatted version of the post.

My inspiration for creating this timeline was the original series timeline made by NubOnReddit on Reddit, which you can find by clicking here.

I considered some details for the construction of the timeline. Some from the series and others based on the timeline on Reddit:

Steven's birthday is August 15th. (Canon)

Steven was born in 2001, turns 16 in 2017 and 17 in 2018. (Headcanon)

With the exception of "The Future", Steven is 16 years old in the entire season of Future, according to his medical record in "Growing Pains". (Canon)

"Snow Day" occurs in December (Headcanon) and from Monday to Wednesday. (Canon)

"Snow Day" occurs one week before the third quarter (Canon), for Steven and by extension for Little Homeschool, third quarter means the third month of the four-month school period. (Headcanon)

"Little Homeschool" and "Guidance" are at most a week apart because Little Homeschool is recent. (Headcanon)

"Little Homeschool" and "Little Graduation" are at least two months apart because during that time Sadie and Shep start dating. (Canon)

"Rose Buds" and "Snow Day" are at least a month apart because Steven becomes a vegetarian. (Canon)

"Prickly Pair" occurs in June because among Steven's plants is a blue campanula, which blooms in June. (Headcanon)

"Bismuth Casual" takes place in mid-June because it is after exams at the cram school. (Headcanon)

"Together Forever" takes place during the beginning of the school vacations because Connie might be getting ready for college in the morning and it seems like her 15-minute break is recent. (Headcanon)

School vacations in human schools don't interfere with classes at Little Homeschool. Classes are from Monday to Friday throughout the year and Saturdays and Sundays are days off. (Headcanon)

"Growing Pains" takes place the day after "Together Forever" because Connie told Steven that she would call him at lunchtime in the previous episode. (Canon)

"Mr. Universe" takes place two days after "Growing Pains" because Steven said that he went to the hospital two days ago. (Canon)

In "Mr. Universe" Greg says his parents go to Florida Island every winter. To keep things consistent, Greg's parents also started traveling in the summer and he didn't know it. (Headcanon)

"Fragments" takes place one day after "Mr. Universe" (Headcanon) and has a range of five days. (Canon)

"Homeworld Bound” takes place on the night of the fifth day of "Fragments" (A.K.A. the day Steven shattered and revived Jasper) and in the early morning of the next day, on which "Everything's Fine" takes place. (Canon)

"Everything's Fine" and "I Am My Monster" occur on the same day. (Canon)

"The Future" takes place months after "I Am My Monster" (Canon) between October and early December. (Canon)

In the movie, the events supposedly began on May 21 (a Monday in 2018) according to Sadie Killer and the Suspects concert poster. However, it would be impossible for Steven to be 16 in "Growing Pains" if he had already gone through a winter. So I interpreted it as a moment of a little mistake (Like when Garnet asked a question in "Cheeseburger Backpack" or when Connie was affected by Blue Diamond's power in "Reunion") and adjusted the start date to Monday, August 21, 2017, with Steven turning 16 a few days ago.

As I progressed through the timeline, I included a few more details based on which month the events of each episode were most likely:

Since "Snow Day" occurs on Monday December 25 (2017), January 1, 2018 would be the start of the third quarter. So, Little Homeschool started on November 1, 2017.

The graduation of the Off Colors would be on February 28, 2018.

From "Little Homechool" to "A Very Special Episode", each episode would occur on a different day of the week.

"Little Homeschool" occurs on Monday, November 6 because the school would be in its first days and because… it's Monday.

In 2018, June 14 was Eid al-Fitr (End of Ramadan), so "Bismuth Casual" occurs after the mentioned date so Patricia can be present without skipping Tarawih (Correct me if I'm wrong).

Due to a chain of days that links the episodes from "Together Forever" to "I Am My Monster", "Together Forever" can only occur on a Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday, and "Everything is Fine" occurs on a Wednesday, Thursday or Friday respectively.

"The Future" occurs over two days, as Connie is present on the morning of the first day and it doesn't appear to be a school day at Little Homeschool, the first day occurs on a Saturday or Sunday and the second day occurs on a Sunday or Monday respectively.

For some dates I implemented the following matches (I'm Peruvian, so I looked for dates in the United States because the series is set there. Correct me if I'm wrong on some):

"Guidance" occurs on November 11 because it's Veterans Day, the healed gems are basically military veterans.

"Why So Blue?" occurs on January 17 because it's International Mentoring Day. As Steven and Lapis try to teach two other Lapises to stop destroying worlds, the concept fits.

"Growing Pains" occurs on June 27 because it's National PTSD Awareness Day. In this episode we see that Steven has PTSD, and Dr. Maheswaran gave a good explanation of the topic.

The second day of "The Future" (A.K.A. when Steven begins his journey) occurs on Monday, November 5 because it would be exactly one year after "Little Homeschool" (November 6, but still a Monday). It would be symbolic because a year ago was the beginning of Steven's problems that unleashed his pink outburst, and now he's healing from his traumas and began a journey to discover himself.

After several calculations of days of the week and doing discard methods, the timeline looks like this:

The Movie:

Monday August 21, 2017 - Tuesday August 22, 2017

Little Homeschool:

Monday November 6, 2017

Guidance:

Saturday November 11, 2017

Rose Buds:

Sunday November 19, 2017

Volleyball:

Wednesday November 22, 2017

Bluebird:

Friday December 1, 2017

A Very Special Episode:

Tuesday December 5, 2017 - Thursday December 7, 2017

Snow Day:

Monday December 25, 2017 - Wednesday December 27, 2017

Why So Blue?:

Wednesday January 17, 2018

Little Graduation:

Wednesday February 28, 2018 - Thursday March 1, 2018

Prickly Pair:

Saturday June 2, 2018 - Monday June 4, 2018

In Dreams:

Saturday June 9, 2018 - Sunday June 10, 2018

Bismuth Casual:

Friday June 15, 2018

Together Forever:

Tuesday June 26, 2018

Growing Pains:

Wednesday June 27, 2018

Mr. Universe:

Friday June 29, 2018

Fragments:

Saturday June 30, 2018 - Wednesday July 4, 2018

Homeworld Bound:

Wednesday July 4, 2018 - Thursday July 5, 2018

Everything's Fine:

Thursday July 5, 2018

I Am My Monster:

Thursday July 5, 2018

The Future:

Sunday November 4, 2018 - Monday November 5, 2018

Well, this was the short version of the Steven Universe Future timeline post including the movie. I think the essential is understood. I'll leave the link to the long version at the end in the future.

More information:

Long Version

Spanish Version | Versión en Español

[hannahmanderr]

DannyMay Day 3 - Blizzard

slowly, she starts to catch up lol

Words: 1,947

Summary: The kids of Amity Park receive a cryptic message telling them to come to the park one July day. Of course they're gonna do it! (FFN)

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

Brooke bounced on the balls of his feet. “Are you sure you have the time right?”

His twin - his older twin, as she loved to remind him - scowled. “You’ve asked me, like, a million times already! I swear it said 3:00!”

Well, Brooke’s watch said it was 3:08. Judging by the number of other kids milling about the park, they did have the right time, but as it got later and later, he couldn’t help but be paranoid. 

Plus he felt stupid dragging his boots, coat, and sled around the park. He wasn’t the only one, of course - almost every kid in Amity’s Park at the moment was lugging around snow gear of some sort. Most kids just had boots and pants and coats, although a good handful also had sleds and had dumped their gear in them. One boy Brooke recognized from the fourth grade had one of those awesome-looking snow innertubes with him.

So yeah, he wasn’t the only one with his cold weather stuff by any means.

Except it was the middle of July, and it was 85 degrees out with a thunderstorm on the horizon. So he still felt stupid.

“Pleeeeease, Maeve?” he whined. “Just check one more time for me?”

“Ugh!” Maeve said, throwing her hands up in the air. “If you hadn’t gotten grounded for messing up Mom’s garden, you wouldn’t be asking me every five seconds.” Grumbling under her breath, she dug in her pocket and pulled out her phone. She didn’t have to scroll to get to the message. She’d already had it pulled up from the last five times he’d asked to see it.

“Look, see? 3:00, just like I said.” She jabbed the phone at Brooke with a smug grin. He took it, even though he’d already read the message dozens of times himself.

Calling all AP kids! Come to Amity’s Park this Saturday at 3:00 pm for a surprise you won’t want to miss! Only requirement is to bring your snow gear - I’ll handle the rest! ;)

The message had gone out on nearly every social media site a kid would be found on. Rumors had even circulated that a bunch of the middle and high schoolers got it emailed, texted, or DM-ed to them directly. He and Maeve weren’t so lucky, especially only being fifth graders. One of his friends had texted it to him after their older brother had shown it to them, and he’d proceeded to show it to Maeve. 

The message had been sent out on Monday. By Wednesday it’d seemed that every kid in Amity Park, kindergarten through 12th grade, had seen it.

Of course, the adults saw it too. A lot of them had worried that whoever sent the message was planning on doing something horrible, with so many kids in one place. The friend who’d texted Brooke said that supposedly, the Fentons had immediately pegged it as a ghost’s evil plot. Brooke didn’t know if he believed that. True, he hadn’t been through a bunch of ghost attacks or anything - they usually stayed near the high school, not the elementary school - but this didn’t seem like some evil plot.

Still though, he knew a lot of kids whose parents had forbidden them from following the message’s invitation. At least three of his friends in his group chat hadn’t been allowed to come. And even then, a lot of parents had refused to let their kids come alone, Brooke’s and Maeve’s being in that group. Their dad was sitting on a bench a short distance away, although many parents didn’t even let their kids leave their side.

It made for a weird sight, though definitely not the weirdest Amity Park had seen. A bunch of anxious adults and a slew of kids towing their winter stuff in the middle of July. No, definitely not to the level of Amity Park weird.

Brooke handed the phone back to Maeve. “Maybe it’s a prank?” he said. The words came out timid. He was a ten year old boy - of course he loved surprises. Especially ones just for the kids! No one ever did anything special for kids. To think it was all just some cruel setup crushed his spirits.

“I don’t think so,” Maeve said. She pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “It’d be a dumb prank. Like who would even want to get a bunch of kids in the middle of the park all for nothing? It’s not even funny.”

“Someone could have done it just to be mean.”

“I don’t think so,” she repeated. “There’s a million other things someone could do to be mean.”

Brooke’s watch ticked over to 3:10. He stole a glance at their dad, who was watching the two of them like a hawk. “You don’t think a ghost did it, do you?” he asked. He hit himself mentally for letting his voice waver. He tried to appear brave in the face of ghosts and their attacks, but he was secretly pretty terrified of them. Except Phantom, of course. Phantom was cool. But he wouldn’t admit his fears out loud to anyone, least of all his sister. He was ten, ten-year-olds weren’t supposed to be scared of things like ghosts.

Maeve furrowed her brow. “Probably not?” The way she said it definitely sounded more like a question than anything. Less confident than she’d sounded before.

“What if it is a ghost?” he pressed. Usually his sister was very sure of herself, like annoyingly so. To hear her being unsure didn’t exactly alleviate his concerns. “How would we even know?”

He got his answer when a shriek erupted from behind him.

Every head in the park turned towards the sound. Parents instinctively lunged to shield their kids. Most of the older teenagers seemed more annoyed than anything. Brooke’s eyes landed on a tiny girl bouncing up and down, pointing at something in the sky. Squinting, he realized something dark was streaking through the air, rising straight up from the horizon.

He caught a glimpse of something much lighter against the dark. “Wait a sec,” he said, realization dawning on him. “Is that…?”

“It’s Phantom!” Maeve squealed. Brooke resisted the urge to roll his eyes. His twin, just like every other girl in Amity Park it seemed, always ended up acting like, well, girls when it came to Phantom. At the same time, he couldn’t exactly blame her. A real life superhero in his hometown? Of course it was something worth getting excited about!

The dark blur shifted course and made a beeline for the park. Sure enough, Danny Phantom’s stark white hair and signature emblem came into focus. Kids began whooping and hollering as they too realized that the ghost boy himself was on his way. Some of the parents relaxed a bit once they realized who it was. Brooke’s heart began to pound. On one hand, it was always thrilling to see his hero up close and in action, but on the other, Phantom really only ever showed up if another ghost was causing trouble. Did that mean the invitation really was a ghost’s scam?

But there was something else, too. Phantom was flying just beneath the low hanging clouds, one arm extended up and to the side. Some sort of blue mist trailed behind his hand and drifted up into the clouds. He cleared the length of the park in a matter of seconds, but then he doubled back and began flying the length again.

“What’s he doing?” Brooke wondered aloud. It was definitely bizarre behavior, even for a ghost superhero.

Maeve had her phone’s camera angled up towards Phantom. “Who cares?” she said with a wide grin. “Keira’s gonna be so jealous! Her mom wouldn’t let her come today!”

The cheers started to die away as Phantom continued his methodical back-and-forth flying, although some of the braver kids kept trying to shout praises and questions at him. He never stopped, although he acknowledged the crowd with a shy wave at one point.

As he continued to fly, Brooke began to notice the temperature cooling rapidly. Goosebumps emerged as the sweat on his arms evaporated. He shivered and grabbed his coat out of his sled. Seriously, what the heck was happening?

When his watch ticked over to 3:13, Phantom stopped abruptly. He held his hands out in front of him, and a grin suddenly broke out across his face. Drifting down closer to the crowd, he shouted, “Anyone wanna join me for a snowball fight?”

Brooke and Maeve exchanged glances. “He’s kidding, right?” Brooke said, frowning.

Maeve’s face mirrored his. “I don’t know,” she admitted, keeping her phone trained on Phantom even as she started to shiver from the dropping temperature. “I mean he likes to pull pranks and stuff on other ghosts, but it’s kind of weird for him to pull a prank on us.”

Some of the younger kids had started jumping up and down, shouting, “Me! Me!” Brooke had a feeling they didn’t exactly understand the absurdity of what Phantom had said; they just knew it was him saying it, and so they got excited.

Phantom’s grin grew wider. He cupped his hands together, and a perfectly round snowball formed in them. He leaned down even closer to the ground to hand it to a little boy, who took it and gaped at it as if he’d just been handed a huge diamond. Some of the kids around the boy craned their necks to see the snowball, but most began clamoring for their own.

Brooke’s own excitement immediately grew, though he was held back by one thought. “I still don’t get it,” he said to no one in particular.

“Um, Brooke?” Maeve said.

“I mean Phantom’s super awesome and stuff, but how is he gonna make enough snowballs for everyone without it taking forever?”

“Brooke,” Maeve repeated, this time more insistently.

“Can he do it any faster? Or make more at once? Like look how many kids are already there, and there’s still -”

“Brooke!” Maeve shouted, this time elbowing her brother in the side. “Will you look already?”

She was pointing up. Brooke looked, and to his wonder, he saw snow fluttering down.

“No way,” he breathed. “Phantom made it snow?”

Maeve laughed. “No way!” she echoed. “It’s July! I so have to figure out how to post this somewhere, kids are gonna be so jealous!”

Slowly, the other people in the park began to notice the snow falling faster and faster. Kids were pulling on jackets and boots with barely contained excitement, and parents tried to huddle in what little extra clothing they’d brought. The kids closest to Phantom, trying to get snowballs from him, took the longest to notice, and when they finally did, many began scooping together the bits of snow accumulating on the ground to form their own snowballs.

Brooke finally couldn’t control himself any more. Laughing, he ran forward and also began collecting snow. A snowball fight with Phantom? In the middle of July? How much more awesome of a surprise could it be?

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

“So, I take it things went well?” Tucker asked with a grin as Danny finally managed to break away from the throng of kids who’d decided to team up against him and try and take him down with a giant snowball.

Danny’s face shone brightly as he shook excess snow from his hair. “They were asking me if we could do it again next week,” he said. “I couldn’t say no to them!”

Tucker shook his head, laughing. “You’re gonna have to get Frostbite to teach you how to make a lot more snow, man.”

[mrktimes]

YOUR WEEK IN MERROCK MARCH 17 - 23

Happy Sunday, Merrockites! Looking at the forecast this week, it's... not so great, for those who like spring. You know when that groundhog told us all we would have an early spring? He was lying. But that's alright, we have a fun week of St. Patrick's Day Celebrations, spring staring (supposedly), and a happiness and forests day, for those who aren't afraid to brave the cold to get out and enjoy some nature. Have a great week! xx

FORECAST:

Sunday: 48°F / 32°F - showers

Monday: 48°F / 33°F - partly cloudy

Tuesday: 44°F / 32°F - partly cloudy

Wednesday: 40°F / 28°F - partly cloudy

Thursday: 39°F / 20°F - partly cloudy

Friday: 36°F / 25°F - partly cloudy

Saturday: 36°F / 30°F - snow

BIRTHDAYS THIS WEEK:

March 17 -- Cage Newman

March 20 -- Iris Xanthe

ON THE BULLETIN BOARD:

March 17 -- St. Patrick's Day (OOC: March 14 - 18)

March 19 -- First Day of Spring

March 20 -- International Day of Happiness

March 21 -- International Day of Forests

LOCATION SPOTLIGHT:

MERROCK STATE PARK -- a beautiful, protected park area where you can hike, bike, run, walk, boat, fish, camp and do so much more. There's plenty of flora and fauna, and lots of room for you to really get out and stretch your legs. Open daily from dawn to dusk, with extended hours during events / warmer months (and different hours for the campground).

A LITTLE EXTRA:

Merrock State Park makes up 35% of the land in Merrock!

[lilimonarch]

Doctor Hanahaki - The Memories that Never Return [9]

Doctor Hanahaki Prequel: Whumptober Spinoff!

Whumptober day 9: Polaroid and lyric prompt

~

Learning everything ain't what it seems, that's the thing about these days

"Who are they?"

Sugawara perked up from where he sat in his office, looking at one of the newer doctors who stared at him with beady blue eyes. He had taken a liking to the doctor in his residency, even though Sugawara was about done with his. "Friends, all that," he glanced at the polaroid pictures hung by his desk, full of what appeared to be joy. Sugawara thought Akaashi was strange, his desk had no sentimental decorations whatsoever. If anything, it appeared the younger doctor's only love was the screaming of sirens and the smell of sanitation.

"Can you tell me about some of the pictures?"

Sugawara chuckled a bit. They were both supposedly on their break (though they typically used that to fill out paperwork), he could spare the time. "I mean, I thought learning about stuff was going to be amazing, got accepted into a pre-med program, life was going swell. That stage when you want to learn everything about everything, when you feel invincible." Sugawara pointed to a polaroid with a taller male, a small grin on his face. "I guess that only applies when you're a kid."

~

One of Sugawara's biggest lessons was seeing his father come home with an alcohol bottle and beating his mother half to death. When he was younger, his mother would hide him in closets, or tell him it was an early night. Sugawara remembers being so excited when his mom told him he was going to have a sleepover at Daichi's house, never questioning why so soon.

Now, he's 16, standing in front of his mother and taking a bottle smash to the shoulder, but defending his mother nonetheless. A shrilling scream as he held his shoulder in agony, but pushing his disgrace of a father away with whatever strength he had left.

His next greatest lesson, seeing an overdose in person. Sugawara's horrid father, he's forever thankful he took his mother's last name. Waking up early before a match on a Saturday, seeing white powder dusting the living room coffee table and the man face down on the carpet. Sugawara has memories of playing in the snow, making cookies with his mother and making a mess with the white flour. This, he knew, was not snow or flour.

Now, he's 17, unsure of what to do with such a disgrace of a man, dead in his living room. This was the one time future Dr. Sugawara Koushi rejected someone in need, ignoring the tears which fell from his face and leaving the house to meet up with Daichi. After all, they had a match to play, a game to win.

Another one of Sugawara's biggest lessons was coming from school after volleyball practice, seeing his mother unconscious in a bloodied bathtub, her mouth hanging out and the color drained from her face as a knife sat on the edge of the bathtub. Sugawara shook his head and screamed, reaching for his phone to call an ambulance as he lifted the woman out of the tub, holding her close. He recalls falling asleep in her arms and her sweet lullabies whenever he had nightmares.

Now, he's 18, holding his mother to his chest as she took her last breaths, her long gone when the paramedics arrived. Crying and screaming as the paramedics pulled him away, him knowing he was truly alone.

~

"That's Daichi, he's my fiancé," Sugawara chuckled, looking at the polaroid. "He's been with me since day one, through the good and bad. It's important to have those people you lean on, I don't think I would have survived High School without him," 100% the truth. After the death of his mother, Daichi's family took him in. It was odd to be living in his boyfriend's house, (he can't count the times his mother would burst in on their room expecting something, only to find the pair doing homework or discussing volleyball strategies), but he survived that because of Daichi. "My past is rough, wish I didn't see what I saw, but you know, we see a lot worse here than anywhere."

Akaashi looked away. "Dr. Sugawara?" He asked, twiddling his fingers. "You said it's important to have someone to lean on, someone to help you with rough memories." Sugawara acknowledged the worries, tilting his head. "I don't have memories, or anyone. From high school, I mean. Well, I don't really want to learn about who I was back then, either. I want to move on."

Sugawara nodded, laying a hand on Akaashi's shoulder. "Say, I want to start a clinic when I'm properly done with my residency. Sometime in the future, and I could use a partner." He gave the shoulder a gentle squeeze. "You don't have to learn about the past if you don't want to, but I can be that person you lean on. How does that sound?"

Akaashi nodded.

[jodilin65]

SATURDAY, APRIL 30, 2011 I’ll have to remember to keep a watch on the inmate search site to see if Mary’s released next month like she’s supposedly going to be. That is assuming they don’t pull anything else on her to hold her there longer. Technically they could hold her till 2013 if they really wanted to. I hope not, for her sake. And I hope she’ll leave the bad boys and the babies to someone else and that she’s realized there’s life beyond abuse and having babies. I think she has, even though it’s been over a year since I’ve heard from her.

That’s another thing I have to think about right there - if I do hear from her, should I or shouldn’t I respond? I’d naturally be curious to talk to her, but at the same time, I don’t want to get hit with a million favors even if I do know how to say no. At the risk of sounding selfish, I’m too busy to worry about others. Remember, fair or not, like it or not, I’m one of the “chosen” ones destined to be forever poor and that means having to work my ass off any chance I get when online jobs come my way, as well as with my writing.

In fact, I’m going to see if there are any translation jobs or other jobs available, then crank out the next chapter of my book.

Despite being naïve, brainwashed, and abused, I know prison has taught Mary a great deal and that she has grown tremendously since the tragedy she experienced, so whether I hear from her or not, I wish her the best!

FRIDAY, APRIL 29, 2011 OMG, Jesse didn’t come down today! Must’ve gotten a tumor up his ass or something.

I was reading an article yesterday about a 91-year-old woman who’s been selling suicide kits down in San Diego. Plastic bags you place over your head that are hooked up to helium tanks. Like with carbon monoxide, you’re dead in minutes if you inhale helium in its purest state. The woman believes that those who are terminally ill should be granted the same right to die and be put out of their misery as we give animals, and I totally agree. It just seems so insanely inhumane to let people suffer while people are quick to label those who would dare let an animal suffer as mean and cruel.

The funny part was that I posted the link to the article and wrote “Go granny go!” on it. Well, Tammy commented on that with “I don’t know about you? Go Granny Go. You little Sis are mischeivious as ever. Maybe thats what changed things for me, and why I do love you very much.”

Maybe that’s what changed things for her? I don’t get that one. I gotta admit, though, her comment was funny. So was the one she sent after I sent her a quiz in Italian. It’s just one of those Who Were You in Your Last Life things, but she said, “Very funny, sis. How am I supposed to take this quiz?”

I was laughing my ass off the other day at the Klammers. They were getting snowed on and down into the 20s while it was warm and sunny here.

I am so sick of hearing people complain that they have no extra money. Yeah, that’s a bitch, but try not having the money for the things you need. I know we can’t help how we feel about things and how we perceive them to be crisis-wise, but I get tired of hearing people describe the flat tire they got as the “ultimate nightmare” that’s practically the end of the world for them. Really, if a flat tire is so rough on them I’d hate to see them ever walk in the shoes I’ve walked in.

After Tom did the math and all that he estimates we should be back on track by June 3rd. I suppose that’s when the shit will hit the fan again to keep us from getting ahead. It’s once we start to climb ahead that shit happens. If this happened every now and then I’d call it bad luck. But when it happens every goddamn time and a clear pattern emerges I can only call it what it is – something hell-bent on holding us back.

I have already given up the fantasy of owning even the simplest of houses whether it’s in a rural or retirement setting. The question is where we want to spend our lives struggling and in whose little dive.

Tom still insists there’s the potential to make serious money with my writing, but as I told him, I’m still a nobody.

“But all somebodies were once nobodies too,” he pointed out.

True, but it all comes down to fate, and you know what that means for me. I’m not going to give up, though, either way, because being a writer isn’t just what I do, it’s who I am. I even got an idea to try to help promote my book and that was to send a steamy clip from it to that erotica site I submitted a few clips to in the past and include the link at the end of it with a note saying that if they liked the clip they could consider buying the book it came from. Those stories get hundreds of views a day. My first one already has over 32,000 views. I don’t recall anything in their rules about not submitting links, so we’ll see.

THURSDAY, APRIL 28, 2011 I realize things have to get done around here no matter what schedule I’m on, and I appreciate Jesse helping Tom by bulldozing most of the weeds, but I don’t appreciate being woken up by the damn thing either. So when I’m on nights I’ll have to remember to sleep with the sound machine really cranked up and an earplug since he’s obviously going to make a career of coming down here every day.

My allergies have been on a roll so I had to take Benadryl which makes me really drowsy. I was also on a roll with my book, but don’t know how much I’ll get done tonight until the side effects wear off.

It’s been dry and summery in the daytime and chilly really early in the morning. Trying to sleep on Sunday is going to be tough because we’re to be in the mid-70s. We’ll need the cooler that day for sure, and I’ll have to remember to crack the window before I crash.

I chatted with Nane yesterday while she was at work, and Christine checked my blog, but still no Maliheh. There have been tons of tornadoes in the south that have killed over 300 people, but nothing in NC lately. My guess is she’s backing off because of my crush which is anything but mutual. That’s ok, though. I’m too busy for regular chatter and after a few days of it, I do tend to start getting tired of it. I realize she may’ve picked up the other card but I just might not have been notified. I was never notified when Nane picked up hers.

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 27, 2011 Life may still suck and we may still be forever “sentenced�� to a life filled mostly with struggles and hopeless dreams, but today I feel better than I have in several days.

Tom called when their offices opened and was surprised to get through right away. He learned there was a delay in the processing, but the money will be sent today so that much is good to know. Over the next two weeks, we should have everything we’re owed since he filed for Unemployment.

So after my allergies woke me up and I put a Breathe Rite strip on my nose and popped a Benadryl, I was able to sleep more peacefully than I had in a while.

Jesse came down on the ATV when Tom was out weeding. That’s two days in a row now. Is this going to be a regular habit of his?

TUESDAY, APRIL 26, 2011 Nothing from Maliheh (I wonder if she lost power again), but I got a quick note from Christine saying she was swamped with work since she was out on jury duty.

I was also delighted to hear from Nane, who was cracking up over the “German omelet” thing. I was telling her how Tom told me Apple’s keyboards do umlauts which sounded like omelets.

She said that the guy she’s been seeing has been hogging up so much of her time that she’s been neglecting friends and family and isn’t sure she likes that yet, but is enjoying things while they last.

As I told her, good things usually do come to an end so enjoy them while they last. Meanwhile, I told her to tell him he’s got envious competition. :) And that I’ll outlast him. I’ll just be doing it from a 6000-mile distance, LOL.

I also dropped hints about writing a story with a character based on her but not with her name, of course, just to see how she takes to the idea.

She was telling me that Nane is Turkish for peppermint and how she thought that was pretty neat. I know it’s also Italian for nannies.

And I was telling her how shitty our lives are and how hopeless things seem.

The money still hasn’t been sent. The federal government just threatened the state government to quit fucking around with those on Unemployment or else! But I guess they don’t give a damn and are still taking their sweet time getting the initial checks out. To hell with anyone whose rent may be due in a few days.

As I told Tom, I’m getting sicker and sicker of this shit by the day. I’m not going to make a career out of “fighting” to live.

Some have commended me for not sugar-coating my life and for being honest about when things aren’t going well. Others say I complain too much. Well, it doesn’t matter what others think. Only what I think. And I think I’m sick of struggling. I didn’t come here to work really hard just to be the equivalent of a welfare bum. That means that no, Tom didn’t get the job. This time he tried to get the temp agency to tell him why, but all they would say was that they “went with the other candidate.” Let me guess – the other candidate was young, not white, or both, right? Only they’re not going to say so, so we can sue their asses and end our money problems the easy way.

Jesse was down on the ATV along with someone in a truck which Tom thinks might’ve been his brother. They got something from the shit pile, but fortunately I slept through it.

Wrote the first two chapters last night of my next book, A Rainbow in Munich, and got my second win. It’s only lotion, though.

The rat’s new game is to take my hair down. I knot it at the nape of my neck and he slowly works it out. Because it’s so long it takes him a few minutes, but he’s gotten quite good at it, LOL.

MONDAY, APRIL 25, 2011 Tom had the interview today, and while everything at least “appeared” to go smoothly, it’s not looking good now. It’s a big building but a small company which is run by an older couple. They said they’d call the temp company today, and Tom called them too, but no one’s called to say he got the job. They did say something about the boss being out at the moment and how she was the one with the final say, so it’s possible that she just didn’t make it back yet. Possible, but unlikely.

We still don’t know if it’s his age or what. Just because they’re older themselves doesn’t mean they want to hire older people. Or it could just be that whatever’s got us cursed so badly is going to make sure no one hires him no matter what. I still say it’s too soon for us. Our problems simply don’t go away this fast. Meaning, he won’t have a job before the fall.

All we’ve done since coming here nearly 4 years ago is struggle. I’m trying to wrap my head around the idea of being broke for the rest of our lives and always renting dumpy old trailers, but I just don’t know if I can do it. Some things we just can’t adapt to, and I don’t think I can ever “get good” at being poor. I didn’t come here to be a bum. Period. I didn’t come here to have life treat us as if we were nothing but lazy, undeserving people who deserve absolutely no better in life.

Tom keeps saying that the only reason we’re going through this shit is because of the economy. But we’ve suffered on account of other things in the past as well. It’s like something up there uses whatever it can to get at us. If it’s not freeloaders using the law against us, it’s health problems. If it’s not wild neighbors, it’s money. But ever since finally breaking free of the freeloader’s grip in 2003, it’s been mostly money we’ve been beaten over the head with.

The rent’s due in less than a week and we have not one penny toward it. Tom said we’re getting paid even though we haven’t received the money yet, and while Jesse may have no choice but to bear with us and keep on being the understanding guy he says he is, what if he runs out of patience since he’s struggling himself now that he’s out of work, too? It takes 30 days to evict someone in this state and that’s some consolation. And so is knowing that being here 3 years and being good tenants has got to mean at least a little something to him. It’s knowing that our lives are never going to change from here on out that’s the problem. The longer things stay the same the less likely they are to change.

Killing ourselves around the first would be the perfect time to go. As I told Tom, I no longer want our own house, but I don’t want to struggle in dives for the rest of my life either. If we killed ourselves next month, neither of us would have to die alone. We wouldn’t have to live to get old and deal with all the health problems that would bring. We wouldn’t have to worry about being thrown in some state-run nursing home by people who will only abuse us.

The only way to escape this curse and not spend so much time struggling, stressing and living in misery is through death. I’m getting more and more convinced of this. If I can’t have a reasonably happy life without constant money worries, then I don’t want to live. Not if all whatever’s up there wants to do is treat me like shit and see that I spend the bulk of my life suffering.

Again, that’s really sweet of Dad to offer to help, but he’s not going to be around forever to run to and our problems are getting more and more frequent. And more severe.

Our lives will never get better and I know it.

I’m wondering if Maliheh’s lost power again. She hasn’t picked up the second card I sent a couple of days ago, nor have I heard from her.

Nane’s been on Facebook less and less and I have to wonder about myself at times. How is it I’ve come to be so hot for someone halfway around the world whom I’ll never meet? Am I really missing sex with someone I lust for and who wants to have sex with me and not for me? Then again, I never really had much of that to miss, did I? Another thing I can thank our lovely God for or whatever the hell it is that’s so hell-bent on holding me back in most areas of life. I jokingly told Nane she just needs to bug me with 20 messages a day to get herself out of my system.

She’ll fade in time. They always do. But then a new crush will come to replace her and on goes the endless cycle of fun and frustrating little crushes.

I really thought Nane would check in from work like usual, but just because she hasn’t posted anything on her wall doesn’t mean she hasn’t at least read messages.

Christine’s done with jury duty. It was a home invasion thing where a group of people killed one person and left another in a wheelchair for life. They were found guilty on all charges. Now let’s hope Ohio has the death penalty. :)

Why is it that I have a very strong feeling that if I were ever murdered the killer would go unpunished? And God just might let them win the lottery while they were at it, too.

What does it matter, though? At the rate we’re going, I’m going to be my own murderer.

SUNDAY, APRIL 24, 2011 My sister sent a message saying she hopes we’re doing better, and “happy bunny day.” Happy ratty day instead, I told her. Tom and I are about as religious as a doorknob, LOL.

We looked online at the place where Tom has an interview tomorrow. It’s a huge building and the grounds are beautiful. There’s even a playground for those with kids (I guess they do daycare, too) and a jogging trail. The pay may not be as good but the benefits are awesome. Too awesome for us, I’m afraid. I just can’t see us being blessed with such a job for him, but hopefully he’ll at least get to be a temp for a few months if nothing else.

They say most of us are cursed in 1 of the 3 main areas of life – love, health and money. Well, to say that I am truly loved is the understatement of the century. I have a man that loves and accepts me as I am. Every ability and every imperfection I behold is loved, cherished and accepted. Then as a bonus, I have friends, cyber friends, family and family-like friends who also love me. Not like Tom loves me, but they love me, and some even have a little lust for me. winks

I’ve also been blessed in the health department since I quit smoking in 1997 with the exception of a set of pretty fucked up teeth that need to be knocked out and replaced with fakes, and the fact that I’ve been waking up with backaches and congestion lately. Snap your fingers and I can run a few miles at just about any given moment. Snap them again and I can throw myself on the floor and do hundreds of crunches.

As for the financial zone; I have been all over the scale. A rich kid who’s a sometimes fairly affluent adult and also sometimes dirt poor and fears she always will be dirt poor from here on out. As I’ve said before, not having much extra money isn’t such a big deal to me anymore. It’s when I have to wonder if we can pay for the necessities that I have a problem.

Tom read an article about how those who have had lots of change throughout their lives are the most likely to continue to have changes along with greater odds of success later on in life. It went on to mention writers and painters who didn’t have success till their 40s, 50s, and even 60s. Well, unlike many people – perhaps even most – who have had the same jobs, homes, phone numbers, love lives, etc. for a million years, we have certainly traveled and lived in many places, learned a lot of things, and have had many a fun adventure and experiences with a few disasters sprinkled in.

At the same time, I have often felt stuck in a rut and that’s pretty much how I feel right now – like things will never change. I am still just as cursed as I am blessed, and just as blessed as I am cursed.

For now, we have our fingers crossed for tomorrow, even if it seems “too soon” for our luck to turn around. He probably won’t know anything tomorrow either way, though. I had a slight vibe earlier about him starting on Wednesday, but my dreams have been more accurate than my vibes lately. So let’s hope I don’t have any nightmares tonight.

SATURDAY, APRIL 23, 2011 Made my third book sale! It can’t be from Andy because his computer’s being repaired, so this may be my first “stranger” sale. It’s frustrating that Amazon doesn’t have a tracker so I can at least see what state/country the sale came from. Either way, I’m glad to have made another sale. :)

Tom has an interview Monday morning for an assembly job here in town. You know how it is, though. Our problems aren’t usually just for hours or days but for months or years, so although I do have a good feeling about it, I’m not counting on anything.

Got a box with $11 in spare change from my folks (presumably from their store), and a couple of flower barrettes. One’s bright yellow and the other’s green with glitter. That was very nice of them.

The Belgium winner finally paid for the toy they won, so we won’t have to complain on them on Monday.

Heard from Maliheh yesterday. She was just 500’ away from losing her place. I’m glad she and her house are ok and that she didn’t end up losing work after all.

Jesse drove me nuts with the motorcycle yesterday. He was obviously having a problem with it, so every matter of minutes he’d gun the fucking thing till he finally got it running. You know how that is too – it doesn’t matter if it’s half a dozen freeloaders or one single older person. As long as it’s our neighbor it must be noisy.

I finished my story last night. :) After Alison read the last chapter she said she’s read enough of my stories for the ending not to be too surprising, but would’ve had “Tesla” get arrested for her outstanding warrant so Nane could bail her out, and then have trouble ensue from there.

I thought to myself, what a damn good idea! So I added another chapter and edited that into the ending.

Speaking of Nane, I’ve got some seriously mixed emotions about this new guy she met. I’m happy for her, of course, but I miss her all the more because she’s not on Facebook as much. She used to be on it on weekends, but now she just comes in once or twice during the week from work. She just needs to bug me with 20 messages a day to get herself out of my system, LOL.

I sometimes wish I could stop lusting for those I’ll never meet, but they do make for fun fantasies and great story ideas. In fact, I have a few ideas in mind right now that I’ve been mapping out. I’m just not sure which one(s) I should develop.

THURSDAY, APRIL 21, 2011 Got my first win in 3 years! It was only a coupon for a free pouch of StarKist tuna, but a win is a win. They just need to keep getting bigger and bigger till they equal thousands of dollars once again.

The other night I dreamt I moved to Florida. Only problem is I was moving from Arizona with my parents. I guess they came to get me or something.

Tom said, “Well, as we know, the details of your dreams don’t always matter. It’s the positive message behind them that counts.”

I still don’t see us ever having the money to move there even though the idea of a tropical climate is appealing to me more and more.

In some ways, I feel like I’m in the same prison I was in as a kid. Stuck where I’m at with no foreseeable way out anytime soon.

Last night I dreamt he called me from work, wherever work was supposed to be.

The only disturbing dreams I’ve been having are these dreams where I’m not in jail, nor in a funny farm, but someplace like them against my will. Perhaps these dreams are just a reminder of the fact that I’m never quite going to be where I want to be in life.

I didn’t realize till now that Marie was following me on Formspring. I congratulated her on her upcoming wedding. Hopefully, life will continue to treat her well and she won’t feel the need to become a pest again, LOL. Just say hello every now and then to let each other know we’re alive and thinking of each other. I could never hate her or not want the best for her no matter how crazy she used to drive me.

It’s no wonder I haven’t heard from Christine. She’s been busy with jury duty. She said she’s not supposed to talk about it till it’s over, but it has to do with the worst thing a person can be charged with. Well, I’ll be looking forward to hearing all about this murder case when it’s over.

I still can’t believe they don’t have trained jurors who do nothing but jury duty for a living. There’s just something unnerving about one’s fate being decided by a dozen strangers who were dragged off the streets. Then again, so was having it decided by an old fart donning a black robe who didn’t even know me from a hole in the wall, wasn’t there to actually see the shit I went through as it was happening, etc. Some people are naturally going to be biased no matter what they do/don’t see. They just won’t always admit it and might not even realize it themselves.

Nane didn’t message me or anything like that but she “poked” me for the first time. I asked her where she poked me when she poked me, LOL.

She tends to count down the days till her vacations, and she wrote “23” in Turkish on her wall. I had to look up what it meant, but in response to it I wrote, “Und morgen ist 22!”

The fuckers in Belgium don’t seem to want to pay for the toy, so we’ll soon be filing a complaint with eBay.

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 20, 2011 LOL, I just entered a sweep that lets you refer friends and enclose a message as well. So I sent one to Molly and said, "Dear Mrs. M, you’re not very bright for a teacher if you haven’t yet figured out that while you have my site blocked on Molly’s computer, you don’t have it blocked on your own. Please see your daughter for what she is so she can get the proper help she needs to stop her voyeuristic ways."

The troll hasn’t written in her blog in several days which isn’t like her. This makes me think she’s moved on to yet another new account.

Tom debated on whether or not to stop admitting he is qualified as a manager because many companies are afraid to hire them for menial jobs. So then he started applying for positions that actually want managers. Only they pay $18 an hour and I can’t believe anything up there would be nice enough to let him have a job that paid that much. It’s almost gotten to the point where I’m wary of good things happening to us. Where good things should be our compensation for bad things that have happened, we seem to be punished for those good things instead.

Right now he’s off to Roseville for an evaluation test for an assembly job. I know better than to get my hopes up, for chances are it’s just another dry run. If he still has trouble getting a job after he stops telling everyone he was a manager, then it’s got to be age or color discrimination for sure. That was one of my first guesses. It’s a youth’s market out there, and non-whites get first dibs on just about everything these days.

The sweeps are still looking hopeless, but I’m entering as many as I can.

Jesse took off at around 7:30 this morning and there were a few barks since it was cold and early, but nothing like when he leaves at night or used to leave at 5am.

Tom just got back, saying the test was super easy. All you had to do was put 5 numbers in order. And now all we have to do is hope we didn’t just spend $7 on gas for nothing.

TUESDAY, APRIL 19, 2011 Electronic welfare bums, I love it, LOL. We thought we were going to have to go apply for assistance in person and that it’d be an all-day thing, but it turns out that these days you can apply online. So we applied for whatever medical and food stamp assistance we could get. That should be about $210 a month in food stamps, but who knows what medical-wise?

It’s going to take a month or so, and God do I wish we could tell them thanks, but no thanks because he’s got a job! But I know life would never be that easy for us. I also wish we’d known about this when he first got laid off the first time. Had we known about this and MT, life would’ve been a lot easier. We just had no idea we qualified for assistance. No idea at all.

Today I’ve been productive as far as cleaning and working goes, but wasting time in my imagination on Nane. It’s so pointless, I know, but I can’t help but be so damn hot for her!

Molly still views my blog almost every day, but lately it’s just 1-3 times a day. Someone in Dallas, TX finds the Maricopa part of my bio quite fascinating. They even checked out the first part of Oregon.

MONDAY, APRIL 18, 2011 No wonder I haven’t heard much from Maliheh. She nearly lost her house in a tornado! A record number of 63 tornados went through NC and some people were killed. I didn’t hear any mention of Fayetteville, though, so I thought she was ok. But there was a message waiting from her when I got up.

How terrifying that must’ve been! I hope she doesn’t lose her place. I’d be willing to pawn my iMac to help get her out here if she needed a place to stay.

It occurred to me that nothing like that could ever just sneak up on us. I’d have nightmares galore the night before even if they had nothing to do with tornadoes.

The people on eBay sure are strange. The toy we listed sold for $12, plus a fortune in shipping since it’s going all the way to Belgium. But last time around no one wanted the damn thing, LOL.

Anyway, not much going on today. It’s cold and rainy. AGAIN. It’s never warm for long around here so it seems.

I’m taking a break for a cup of soup, then it’s back to work.

SUNDAY, APRIL 17, 2011 Got back from Kmart, which Sears owns, a little while ago. I returned with a 4-pack of satin string bikini panties, 2 glittery bottles of nail polish, a new set of sheets in lavender, and a few 99-cent smellies. Cucumber-melon, Sexy Musk and New Musk. I also got candy and soda.

Tom read an article yesterday about a new prescription medication for people with my kind of sleep disorder and I guess instead of adding melatonin to the body it somehow enhances the melatonin you’ve got. As he said, it used to be hard to find any information on this type of sleep disorder, so to see an article about it tells us it’s getting more widely recognized.

SATURDAY, APRIL 16, 2011 Every day I awake to a blank canvas of white upon which to tell a story. Only my canvas is that of a computer screen and not the rough material of a traditional canvas. Instead of brushstrokes, it is keystrokes that tell my story. The story of my day-to-day life. Sometimes that story is sad. Sometimes it is uplifting. And other times it is thought-provoking.

What appeals to me most about writing more than anything else I’ve ever had an interest in is the fact that there’s the potential to go from good to great. I got to be a good singer, but nothing can ever make me a great singer. I was a good dancer, but in this day and age, nothing can ever make me a great dancer despite being pretty fit. Even though I have a knack for languages my Spanish can never go from good to great because I will never live in a Spanish-speaking country where I have no choice but to use it regularly. But age, environment and money have no discrimination when it comes to the art of writing. I may never be the best writer in the world, but someday I will be a great writer. And someday I just may take Eileen’s advice who pointed out that I’m doing this ALL on my own and that while I’m a good writer, why not take some creative writing courses if I’m open to constructive criticism? I can only get better if I do. For now, though, I have Mitch, and he is a fine writing mentor who compliments and inspires me when I write well, and who gives me that constructive criticism I need when there’s something I need to improve on.

Being a writer, like many fields within the arts and entertainment area, isn’t just something we do, it’s who we are. And most of us have been at it in some form or another all of our lives.

My journal is my non-judgmental therapist to pour my tears out on as well as my friend to share the good times with, and so I will refrain from apologizing if I’ve sounded down quite a bit lately. Being held back in life and feeling powerless to do much about it other than wait it out and hope it doesn’t last too long or get too rough can be a real stressor. If my journal doesn’t mind what I say, then why worry if my followers might?

I called my parents yesterday to let them know the Magic Jack would expire and that it would be a couple of weeks or more before I renewed my subscription. I told them to call the cell if they needed us. Well, I talked to Dad, actually. Mom was at the store. He said I should’ve called and told them and they would’ve paid for it, and that anytime I need money I should let them know.

I told him that was really sweet of him, but I didn’t want to bother them. He assured me it was ok, that’s what they’re there for, and if they couldn’t help, they’d say so.

It’s kind of sad that Tom’s family really put a complex on me so badly as far as reaching out to others for help after they so cruelly abandoned us in the past, but a part of me is also glad I didn’t ask for help. For one, they have enough of their own shit to deal with, and I also know I can’t run to them for help forever.

I didn’t even tell him we’ve been out of propane. Not literally, but we can’t afford to have the main tank filled because they have a 100-gallon minimum and that costs a couple of hundred bucks. Instead, we’ve been alternating between a couple of 5-gallon tanks, taking showers every day and a half instead of every day, and washing dishes/clothes in cold water. It’s lasting longer now that it’s been warmer.

I also didn’t tell him that we’re not starving, but we’re eating as cheap as we can and doing without the extras that we don’t need like soda.

What I did tell him was that we really, really appreciate the $25 IHOP card they sent and the $50 Sears card. We need new sheets and underwear, so the Sears card really helps out.

“If some people can be blessed in some areas of life, why can’t they be cursed in some areas, too?” I asked Tom. “What if we’re just forever financially cursed no matter what we do? What if this is it? What if it’s actually safe to say that if things are this bad at our age, they always will be? What if owning even the simplest, most ordinary house is just a dream, and what if we’re forever stuck in this tiny old trailer with its doors that don’t stay open on their own, its lack of space, and its floors without insulation that they’re so cold to walk on in the winter even with socks? Really, we live like bums yet we have done everything within our power to try to help ourselves better our lives. So what if it’s hopeless?”

But he got me to see that this world recession that’s going on is a very extraordinary situation that won’t last forever and it’s not something up there that’s picking on us even though it sure seems that way at times and like things will never change. He also got me to see that getting laid off under ordinary circumstances doesn’t automatically mean you’d lose your house if you had one since you’re usually only laid off for a couple of months. Then I remembered that he did get laid off shortly after we were married and we never lost the Phoenix house. He also reminded me that had we been smarter about Maricopa and not gotten such a big place that we couldn’t really afford, we’d still be there, even though we both came to hate many things about Arizona.

He may have a point, but I still worry that somehow, someway, no matter what we do, we’ll always be struggling.

I’m still entering sweeps even though that’s not looking promising at all. Things just aren’t what they used to be where that’s concerned. If I ever won big, Miss Hates to Travel is going to visit friends and family for sure, including my best cyber friends.

Anyway, after getting groceries and talking with Dad and Nane, I was in better spirits.

Nane said it’s a little late, she knows, but she is reading my book and congratulated me again for getting it published.

Instead of being flattered, I felt embarrassed and said, “Not the copy with the errors, I hope!” Then I emailed her the corrected copy.

She thanked me; though she assured me she didn’t mind spelling errors and probably wouldn’t even notice. Perhaps not if your first language isn’t English. Then again, her English isn’t bad at all. Some natives don’t speak/write it as well as she does.

She likes my sense of humor and we have fun with our usual jokes and nicknames for each other. I told her the story of how we ��met” and explained how Tom read an article saying that if your native language is English, German would be the easiest to learn, even if I half agree with it. She told me how she ended up in NYC. She met this guy in Frankfurt she was with for two years. After he got out of the army he couldn’t find work, so his mother in NYC got them jobs there. She worked for Wall Street which is pretty big bucks. She was 23 at the time and I was 18 and right next door in MA. If only we’d known!

I’m glad I didn’t dump her, and I know this may sound silly as hell, but I feel like we grew closer than ever for some reason yesterday. And it may also sound silly to say it made me feel really good, but it did. :)

I’m hearing less and less from Maliheh and still I wonder if I’ve got anything to do with it or not. It’s like she’s slowly pulling away. If that’s what she wants, then ok. I enjoyed the time we had. I think it’s time to give her a taste of her own medicine, though, if I do hear from her again, and not be so quick to respond right away. Let her wait for me for once.

The fucking dogs drove me crazy last night. I slept till midnight and figured Jesse would be home by then, but no such luck. They didn’t shut up for another hour and I wasn’t sure if it was because the prick finally got home or if the dogs had simply exhausted themselves. If he left at 7:30 like he usually does, I’d be pretty exhausted too if I barked for 5 or 6 hours.

This morning the damn cock was doing his little engine gunning and running routine, though I think it may’ve been the motorcycle. It’s like he’s idling the damn thing longer before he takes off.

Not surprisingly, Tom “ran” into him at the fork when he was putting the trash up. He was either coming or going and mentioned cleaning the cooler and getting it ready for the heat that can’t get here fast enough. Tom said I was on nights now and asked that he wait till next week and he said he would.

FRIDAY, APRIL 15, 2011 Later on this morning I’ll call my folks and let them know their loser of a daughter is about to lose her phone, so they’ll need to call one of the two cells if they want to get a hold of me. As part of my learning to accept the shitty hand the bastard in the sky (or whatever it is) is so determined to deal to me time and time again, I’m trying to focus on the good in losing the phone and not on how much it pisses me off to have to keep on losing this or giving up that. I would prefer to leave my computer on when I’m going to sleep when it’s light out and when the lights on the keyboard and the MJ’s power box can’t annoy me like they would at night. The phone could also ring and wake me up if the computer’s left on. And since things have to get more and more complicated with time, there’s no simple on/off switch for the ringer, and I can’t simply take it off the hook. But now I won’t have to worry about that for a while. The Magic Jack also has a delay in relay and an occasional echo.

I can’t believe I spent most of my childhood and some of my 20s dreaming of moving to California only to end up stuck here in my 40s and hating almost every minute of it. A part of me still wants to scream and cry at the thought of spending many more years or even the rest of my life in this dumpy little trailer. But I think the more we fix it up and make it our home instead of just Jesse’s old trailer, the less I’ll want to leave it after putting so much time into making all the changes. Unless you can buy it outright, it’s just not safe to own a house. One firing or layoff – just one – and you could lose that house or that nicer, more expensive rental in a heartbeat.

By throwing away my dream I then have no dreams to either not be able to achieve or to achieve and lose. Besides, there’s really nothing to “throw away” because it’s not up to me to begin with.

And so every time I long to be in a normal house with adequate space and newer features, I remind myself that it’s better than prison, jail, funny farms, concentration camps, apartments or the streets. It’s even better than an apartment building for old folks only. I’m not stupid. I know that if I lived in one of these places the person above us would have unruly grandkids visiting regularly, the person below us would be obsessed with slamming doors, and the person next to us would be so deaf they blast their TV. Yeah, I know how these things work.

Other than this thing that’s had an obsession with seeing that I’m stuck everywhere I don’t want to be and unable to stay where I do want to be since I was around 15 years old, the weather is improving. We had our last cold day a couple of days ago. Now it’s time to pull the comforter off and put the thin blanket on, though it’ll still be getting cold at night for a while. It won’t be until mid-June before we can have windows open all the time.

So the few trees around here that lose their leaves in the fall are sprouting new leaves and there are baby birds in the nest on the porch. And if they bring Tom a job, it will also be around the same time we can leave the windows open, but somehow I doubt he’ll get a job before most, if not all, of the summer is over.

THURSDAY, APRIL 14, 2011 I miss the beach. I don’t know why. Ocean’s stink, the water’s salty, seaweed’s kind of gross, jellyfish make my skin crawl, walking on sand isn’t easy, and stepping on pointy edges of shells or driftwood doesn’t tickle. Chances are, though, I’ll never see any of it again, so that’s another thing I can forget about.

Tom and I both agreed that instead of buying a place or fixing this place up if I suddenly won 20K, we’d get the hell out of California even if it meant having to go to a place that was cold and snowy. And that’s probably what it would take to better our lives, cursed or not. We’ve been here nearly 4 years now yet he STILL can’t get a permanent job. We spend so damn much of the time being cold enough here anyway that a climate worse than this might be worth it in order to break this horrible cycle we’ve been on for so long.

But I’m almost certainly not going to win 20K and so we’re stuck here. And God knows how many more years things will be as shitty as they have been. I honestly think it will be over a decade before the economy recovers.

What’s both good and disappointing is that the Beanie Babies sold which means less stuff in the way, but they only sold for $37. We were really hoping for $50 - $75, even though we didn’t list the more valuable ones in this batch.

We have a toy I won years ago (a talking animal) up for a buck and it’s got a watcher so maybe it will sell. Meanwhile, we’re so fucking poor I’ll have to call my folks and let them know I’m going to lose the Magic Jack phone since we don’t even have $20 to spare right now to renew it. We’ve got two cells, though, and it’s not like I use the MJ phone much.

Just two days back into exercising and I can already feel a difference in my tummy. I’m still not dieting, but someday I’ll get back on with that, too.

Mitch finally made a sale on Smashwords. :) I’ll definitely take his advice and publish with them too, but not until things settle down a bit here if they ever do.

There are baby birds in the other nest at the other end of the porch now, too. I don’t know if it’s a different family or if Mama Bird moved her babies into this nest. Somehow I doubt they move their babies around.

It hurts to walk on the kitchen and bathroom floors even with socks, that’s how cold it got last night. There’s absolutely no insulation in these floors, none in the so-called roof, and probably very little in the walls. But again, we ain’t getting out of here for a long, long time to come. Might as well try to focus on the good in it – no neighbors attached to us!

Nane really is a fun friend even if she’s not around much of the time. We have our games we play (like what scent I’m wearing) and our nicknames for each other. She’s Goddess Nane and I’m Lady Jodi, even if she doesn’t always spell my name correctly.

I started making my own “hugs” and she thought it was neat and asked how I did it. I told her and she did an ocean scene after I did a rat, not surprisingly for us, LOL.

I told her of a dirty dream I had of her and said she could tell her BF. She said she better keep quiet about it, then laughed and said she just might tell him after all.

The troll took Tuesday off but viewed my blog 3 times yesterday, and I just hit Larry with this second funny/insulting message. I enclosed a joke for old-time’s sake but was sure to insult him a bit along the way, too. It’ll be interesting to see if he ever tells me to fuck off or blocks me. Then again, he may not want to give me a “reaction” any more than the black bitch wants to, who I make a point of reminding of my existence at least once a year. I’d be willing to bet she saves everything I send. Therefore, she had to have been as pissed as I was when Facebook’s latest round of changes deleted old messages, LOL.

Who else from the past have I “dropped” in on? Oh, just Bruce. He was the conceited cock that was a great guitarist. I knew him in Springfield. I liked his guitar playing but I didn’t like him. He was too judgmental but not nearly as bad as Al was. Al was the verbal equivalent of a wife-beater. I even gave him the link to the part of my bio where I mention him, even if it was just one paragraph, LOL. He followed the link but didn’t reply as I both hoped and expected. I just like to surprise people at times. :)

Adonis, my faithful follower with the annoyingly shitty English, said he too, had been thinking about my “preparation” theory. He’s kind of philosophical too, and said what if I’m actually being prepared for riches?

So late in life? I doubt it. I once hoped that my curses would one day be compensated, but each year that passes and I see they aren’t, I give up hope on that one.

Tom said some may think I had it easy just for not having to work out of the house.

Yeah, that’s a definite blessing. But is that blessing why we’re so cursed? Or was I given the sleep disorder as a means of holding us back? After all, I’d be out there working too, if transportation and schedules weren’t an issue, even if I didn’t like it.

Tom said he thinks it’s harder for me because I didn’t grow up poor like he did. It almost makes me wish I had, though, as sad as it may sound. Then maybe I’d be “good” at being poor. Don’t worry, I’ll be a good little bum and roll with the punches sooner or later. I already realized and acknowledged that we’re destined to spend most of our lives struggling. Acceptance will come, probably sooner than even he thinks. I’ve had financial problems almost all of my adult life so it really is nothing new. The only new twist is that starting in Oregon, but mostly starting in Cali in 2007, it went beyond just not having extra money and became a struggle to pay for the necessities as well.

OMG, though! God is going to allow us enough food to eat this week! But wait. Just what exactly did Tom and Jodi S do to deserve the right to eat this week??? Hell, I thought we deserved a little starvation mixed into the shitty hand He keeps dealing us. After all, we’re just a couple of worthless losers who try too hard to get ahead, aren’t we?

Later…

OMG, this is so fucking funny! It’s nice to be able to laugh for once, too. To send feedback on my-diary you have to give your email addy. Or at least most people think you do. As long as the @ symbol is present and you use a real carrier, you could send it from fuckyou@yahoo.com if you wanted to. Someone wrote “You have no life” in regard to the first part of my bio. Well, another thing a lot of folks don’t know is that you can search FB for any users signed up with a particular email addy. So I ran the addy on FB, which is in Sunnyvale, CA, and up came a person with the same name as in the addy. I was a little surprised at who I saw in the profile pic, even though anyone could’ve sent the feedback. Usually, such comments come from kids. Not from what appears to be a woman in her 40s. I sent her a message thanking her for her feedback on MD and let her know that I already figured out years ago that I had no life. Oh, and to have a nice day. :) ROTFL! She is going to be one shocked lady! LMAO!

It’s funny in itself, but hopefully it’ll keep her from being a potential troll. As soon as I “called out” that Canadian troll on MO it disappeared really fast. Guess that’s what you get for fucking with a savvy net nut. :)))))))

TUESDAY, APRIL 12, 2011 We have now been in this little old trailer for 3 years. 3 years and counting. Acceptance is getting a little easier, but it’s one of those things that will take time and that will happen little by little. I just remind myself – whenever I start to feel saddened or angry – that there are worse places to spend the rest of our lives in. Much worse.

Death may be the only escape from the curse we’re under, but I really believe that the best way to deal with it while we are alive and the best way to lead a happier life is to just make the best of what we can do/have and stop trying to turn dreams and fantasies into the reality they can never be. So I’m going to keep the list I made up handy of all the things I want to do to fix this place up as time and money permits and make it our home. I think the more we personalize it and remodel it to our tastes and comfort, the happier I’ll be. Maybe we can even add on another bathroom eventually. The clearing that this trailer is on is narrow and so we’re limited as to how much outside space we have as well as inside. It will take many thousands of dollars and many years, assuming we make it through this latest ordeal, but it’s a hell of a lot safer and smarter than continuing on with this stupid fantasy that we could one day own a house and not lose it. Why pay to fix things that break and worry like crazy about losing them until we actually do? Just one lay-off or firing is all it takes to lose a place, and just about all jobs will eventually let you go for some reason or the other. Very few people ever work at the same place till they retire. It may be easier and tempting to want to run to a bigger, newer place if we ever could, but how could I enjoy it if all we’re going to do is stress and struggle to maintain it? We do enough of that right here in what’s just about the cheapest place you can get for being in California.

This is where we live. This is where we stay. This is what’s meant to be.

Don’t know if the Beanies are going to sell or not yet. They’re getting a hell of a lot more views than the last small lot we tried to sell, but in my experience the more we need money the less likely we are to get it.

At least I sold another copy of my book and Eileen’s going to leave a review. I asked her to, since it couldn’t hurt, but only if she likes it, of course, and she said she’d be happy to. Her mother’s going to read it, too. LOL, it’s a good thing we Jews tend to be more liberal.

I’m not going to bother dieting, but I’ve gone back to working out. No need to fall out of shape just because I don’t care right now that I’ve got too many pounds and inches to my name, is there? But why my weight hasn’t kept climbing and climbing is a mystery to me. At this height and age you, can’t just eat like a normal person. But I’ve been eating quite “normally” at 1500-2000 calories a day and being as lazy as can be. I’m not saying I’ll never diet again. I’m just not in the mood to put added pressure on myself until and if our finances get so bad that I’m forced to go hungry. I’m more focused on saving money right now, and part of that means buying cheap food that tends to be higher in calories.

I’m doing arm, ab and leg exercises which take about 15 minutes. Then I’m running 4 minutes every hour for about 10 hours. My screensaver is set to blackout every two minutes, so I’m doing two “blackouts” per hour.

I got a clever idea earlier to take a spring hook off an old purse strap and attach it to my robe. This way I just hook it to the belt loop instead of having to use the belt which only keeps slipping loose.

Again I’m wondering if Nane’s worth keeping as a friend. I’d just hate to dump her and end up regretting it. I reached out to her about a week ago when I was feeling blue and wanted to chat. I realized she could be busy and it’s not like she’s obligated to cheer me up or anything like that, but the least she could’ve done was at least answer the damn message once she finally got back on Facebook which is where I sent it. She just got back from what I could tell, but she’s completely blown me off. I expected a reply or one of her “hugs” or something, but I’ve received absolutely nothing. Makes me also wonder if I should share a certain story with her. :) She did, however, let me know that my book is $3.44 in US dollars in Germany. So almost half a buck more there.

No troll today. I’m surprised. I’m also wondering how long she can stand to go before she does something to try to make me discuss her in my blog which is exactly what she wants.

Later…

I see myself hurrying down the curvy dirt drive and out to the main road. My heart trembles with fear yet with determination as I wait for the next vehicle to round the corner at 45MPH. When it does I refuse to let myself chicken out. I bravely hurl my body in front of it, allowing the impact of the vehicle to smash the life out of me.

Gone are the money worries. Gone are the lost dreams. Gone is the pain.

And then I snap out of this scary yet appealing fantasy given how shitty my life is right now, and reality hits me in the face like a bowling ball.

I don’t have the guts to kill myself. The only thing that’s going to give me the guts to actually do it would be if anything happened to Tom or things got to the point that they were literally unbearable and there was simply no way to survive.

I wish I could know what dying would be like for me and what – if anything – awaited me on the other side. Knowing this may or may not give me the guts it would take to kill myself before things got a chance to get to the point of no return, though it’s true that Tom is another big reason I still exist. He’s a pretty independent guy who could get along just fine on his own. But I know he’d be sad and lonely without me. The older we are, the less likely we are to find someone to settle down with, especially if we’re not very sociable to begin with. So if I died now and he lived another 30 years, that’s a long time to be alone.

Will things ever get unbearable? Well, obviously we can’t live forever no matter what happens. So yeah, eventually Tom’s going to die and I’m going to kill myself if nothing happens before then to cause me to die first or us to die together.

And then another theory popped into mind that got me wondering about something. I assumed all these spells we’ve been going through where we’re teased with our survival were strictly to punish us. But what if it’s something more? Is it preparation of some kind? Back when I was hauled into Florence Jail I got the distinct feeling something was trying to prepare me for something. It was. Six months of hard county time in Phoenix. So if this truly is a preparation of some kind, then what could it be for? Is it trying to “toughen” me up and help get me gutsy enough to kill myself with or without Tom?

“I’m almost 54 years old and things have always worked out,” Tom told me the other day. “So there’s no reason not to think it won’t work out this time, too.”

Ah, but they say there’s a first time for everything.

MONDAY, APRIL 11, 2011 I dreamt that Tom got a call for a job. I don’t know if he got the job, but he got called for one. Although I didn’t wake up feeling as blue as I have been these last several days, this doesn’t mean I think or feel he’ll get a job anytime soon. Unfortunately, most of the dreams I have that come true are the bad ones. He’ll probably get calls on and off for the next few months, but you know our setbacks last longer than just a few weeks. Even so, Tom’s thinking of leaving out the fact that he was a manager in the past. Since all he can get are menial temp jobs, having that on his record is a very bad thing since no one wants to hire managers for shit jobs, and he’s not going to tell them, “Hey, I’m so desperate I’ll take any job.” The tough part is not only finding a job, regardless of pay but finding one in town so he doesn’t have to drive forever. Especially since gas prices are getting out of hand again.

“Do recycled bird’s nests still count as bringing good luck?” I asked Tom the other day. After all, it is a used nest they’re using out on the porch. He assures me they probably had to remodel somewhat. Well, we’ll see what happens over the next few months and if it’s still a “lucky” thing or not.

We listed 100 Beanie Babies on eBay starting at $24.99. Again, a true test of just how cursed we may or may not be at the moment.

Our connection has been slow as hell. Maybe in a few more years or so, we can get reliable service out here without having to play phone with them all day every few months and beg them to give us the speed we’re paying for.

Christine has been sick with a fever so that’s why I haven’t heard much from her. Hopefully, she’s better now.

Molly’s back to viewing my blog. Yeah, I knew she would be. Houston, TX viewed me too, and when I see anything Texas I always wonder if there’s a connection. Especially when it’s a direct jump.

Anyway, it’s back to not allowing anonymous comments on my blog now that she’s coming around again. In her own blog, she’s written the exact opposite of what she said last time. She’s just back and forth and back and forth like a yo-yo. One entry could say she’s sick of her “friendship” with Alison and she’s not worth bothering with, the next (written just hours later) could be all about how she hopes to earn her trust again and win her friendship over. She’s also swung back the other way with Roman, admitting to harassing him again. She said she’s “not sure” why she can’t stop calling and texting him. Then after claiming to feel oh so loved by fellow thoughts members, now she feels slighted.

People have left comments saying you can’t make people like you, the internet is not real life, and that it’s a waste of time feeling hurt over people online when she should be out meeting people in person.

And it’s all gonna go in one ear and out the other.

She supposedly started a new medication, but I really don’t think all the therapy and medication in the world can help people like her. It didn’t seem to help Marie. I think the only way to stop Molly from bothering people online is to prevent her from being able to get online in the first place. The mother’s obviously not very bright for a teacher if she hasn’t yet figured out that while she may’ve blocked my blog on Molly’s computer, the nut can still get to it on hers.

Later…

If there was the slightest, microscopic amount of doubt left in me as to us not being meant to have money, it’s gone now for damn sure. The economy is so damn bad we’re almost certainly guaranteed not to have even a few grand in the pension fund. Anything to keep us poor and from buying a house. Anything. But that’s fine; I already decided I don’t want a house just to lose it and have to pay for things we can’t afford to fix until we do. So fine. We’ll stay right here. But a little extra money to fix this place up would’ve been nice.

It’s all there, though. The pattern is so damn clear. First we lose hope of ever getting anything from his mother (if she can ever die), then the horse program tease, then the partnership tease, and now God’s made sure to use the economy to fuck us out of our pension. “What’s all that tell you?” I told Tom, trying to point the obvious out to him. Yet he insists that there’s no way I could be screwed out of my inheritance and that while it may suck, now’s a “great” time to be poor because the county could end up saving us a whole “boatload” of money on my teeth.

I first thought it would take months and months to get approved for help with my teeth. But the county funds the dental, he learned, which explains why the state could afford to drop it and not have anyone bitch about it. The state, however, is the one that deals with food stamps, so that would definitely take months.

If I could get my teeth done for free or close to it that would be great. But that’s just one thing. What about our overall day-to-day lives? I’ve known since 2007 that we were meant to be poor for the most part. That’s pretty much when it became obvious enough and I put two and two together and figured it out. I also figured as much as far as us getting fucked out of the pension. So then why is it so hard on me? Why can’t I just accept the fate that’s been handed down to me and just roll with the punches? Why get upset over what cannot be changed? Like wasting time getting upset when a state votes down gay marriage. Well, of course they’re gonna vote it down. Most people hate gays. It does get easier with time, but I still need to fully accept it if I’m ever going to have an easier life. I’ve given up my dream of a house, not that I ever had much choice, and I’m sorry it’s taken me 3 hopeless dreams to finally realize that whether my dream is far-fetched or perfectly reasonable, it’s not meant to be if the dream belongs to me. I’ll know better when dream number 4 rolls around and won’t even bother to think of trying to make it a reality.

This reality hitting home more and more makes me all the more hesitant to bother sweeping. Not just because the odds these days are astronomical but because if we, Tom and Jodi S, aren’t meant to have big bucks, then that’s all the more reason to believe I’ll never win.

Again with the troll coming to my blog today, so again I’m thinking of creating our own site and blocking that IP# altogether. Well, Tom will have to do it, but I did suggest it since he’s going to be out of work for months. Yeah, that call I dreamt he got never came. You know only the bad dreams are allowed to come true. Or something bad after having a bad dream.

I HATE God above so bad now! And I don’t care if He punishes me for saying so. What more can He do to us? He’s taken our dreams, taken our pension, taken our LIVES. We are so His little puppets on a string for life.

Later…

I meant it when I said that not having extra money was ok so long as we could pay for our needs, but sometimes I’ll miss the lack of choices and opportunities a life of struggling will bring us. It may not be necessary, but it would’ve been nice had a year of Harry & David’s been a choice for us, and it would’ve been nice to spend a day being pampered at a spa if we wanted to or to decide to take a vacation somewhere if we ever decided we could use a change in town/scenery, despite hating to travel.

To assume we’ll be screwed out of our pension is as reasonable enough as assuming one will be hurt if they fall 20 feet. And we WILL lose the inheritance. God will make sure doctors, hospitals and other medical-related expenses drain the money in the end. I’m not stupid. I get how it works for us. It started becoming rather obvious in late 2006, but each year it gets more obvious.

I am determined to just learn to accept things as they are and roll with the punches rather than waste time trying to change and control what we can’t. We DID try to better our lives, so no one can say we didn’t try. Also, there is some good in being poor. Poor gets you more breaks and freebies and it makes you appreciate those few scattered bursts of good times. So poor is ok and I’m ready to make the best of it since it cannot be changed.

Now, speaking of working with what we do have and not worrying about what we can’t have, here’s a list of long-term goals. We can do these things as money permits.

New carpet New paint New floors I would like light-colored countertops, but that’s not necessary Install more outlets? Flat-top stove Bigger water tank New doors Water filter so we can drink tap water? Twin waterbed for me New bed/couch of some kind for him Shelves Curtains or drapes for the bedroom Square clothesline Soundproofing and or insulation to regulate inside temp Add-ons: bathroom, bedroom, laundry room

This will take many thousands of dollars and many years to do but this is a REASONABLE goal. Having a savings and buying a house is not. I think we can and should do this. It may not be our #1 choice in life, but you know life isn’t what we plan it. We live the lives we were meant to live and I don’t think it’s all that bad at all when you consider how much worse it could be. I do, however, think we should get Jesse in here next fall to fix the heater and faucets. Remember, if we’re going to focus on the good of renting/being poor, it’s having someone else pay to fix things. So life won’t be what we want it to be, but we can make the best of the life we never wanted or intended to live. Sometimes you just gotta MAKE the place you’re in your forever home because it’s the only one that can be forever.

I also want to sell/donate most of my dolls to free up more space.

SUNDAY, APRIL 10, 2011 Just thought I’d write in between entering sweeps. The sweeps that seem very unlikely that I’m going to go back to winning like I used to. Can’t say I didn’t try, though.

The Beanie Babies didn’t sell. Next we’re trying a huge lot and we’re going to go with parcel post instead of priority mail. This will be a true test as to just how cursed we are since there’s no way this shouldn’t sell.

Believe! That’s what Eileen keeps saying to me. But how can I believe when 80% of the last 3 ½ years have been so shitty? How can I believe when we spend 22 months on Unemployment and then after just 6 months of work we’re laid off again?

I think that people who haven’t had it as bad as we have just don’t realize that it’s not that easy to just “believe.” I know they mean well, but it’s not like we can flick a switch within our brains and believe whatever we want to at will. If that were the case I wouldn’t feel stress, depression, frustration and such an extreme loss of faith, even if I’d only be kidding myself in believing things will work out. And they just may work out in the end, too. But in “working out” that probably means a few months on the job after God knows how many more months of struggling to find one in the first place and trying to make ends meet. All we’ve done since coming to California is just go round and round in circles. I’m coming to hate it here, but if a person is cursed, wouldn’t they just get the same results no matter where they lived?

The stress which has turned into depression is killing my motivation to work out and lose weight. I’ve gained back 17 of the 30 pounds I lost. All lost weight eventually finds its way back home, but why don’t I care? Why can’t I get myself to want to diet and exercise? How much more must I gain back before I finally get my ass in gear in that department?

Instead, all I want to do lately is eat, sleep, write and listen to music when I’m not entering sweeps or doing what work I can do online. Today, though, I got a lot more sleep for the depression. I crashed around 5am and then the sound machine broke and woke me up around noon. The old, ancient portable one did, not the off-tuned radio station on the stereo. Then I fell back asleep and got up around 2pm. I was up for about an hour, and then fell back asleep till around 4:00. Then I got up, fell back asleep around 6:00 and didn’t get up till 8:00. Am I really that depressed that I had to spend most of a 15-hour period sleeping?

During my second round of sleep, I had a dream of being in a tiny, old dump laid out sort of in a square like the dump we rented in Oregon. There was a room on each corner – two bedrooms, a living room and a kitchen. I was in one of the bedrooms which seemed bigger than the bedrooms in the house actually were and saw rivulets of water leaking down part of one wall. I ran to tell Tom about it but saw that he was asleep on the living room couch. I changed my mind and decided not to bother waking him up for something I simply didn’t want to deal with anyway. So I let it leak and went to change the rat’s cage which was also in the bedroom. That’s when I noticed that all our digital clocks simply had the number 4 for the hour, but no minutes visible. Number 4, the real 13.

Was he laid off as a means of protecting Jesse? I wonder that. Seriously, maybe Tom was meant to lose his job as a means of trapping us here so Jesse doesn’t go further into the hole financially. Had he been hired on and given a raise recently, we just may have moved this summer. On the other hand, I would think Jesse would be able to re-rent this place in just a month or two.

If we were smart we’d take our pension money and make this place as comfortable as we possibly could and just stay here forever. If we live long enough to get it, that is. I’m sure Jesse wouldn’t mind having life-long tenants, and it would certainly be safer. The dogs only bark once or twice a week for a few hours now instead of every day for 10 hours like they used to, and even if Tom got a great job with great pay – well – all good things do come to an end, so it’s better to just stay put than take risks. I’m sure Jesse would let us paint and recarpet and personalize the place to our tastes and comfort as money permitted. It’s something to think about. We’d certainly never have to worry about neighbors being just a few feet away from us in this place.

I like different people’s marketing ideas for my book. Eileen suggested a TV or radio station, Maliheh suggested YouTube, and Mitch suggested another self-publishing company that I guess has better features and pays 85% royalties. I appreciate their suggestions, but right now we have more pressing issues at hand than trying to get my book to sell. And also, good writers that aren’t great simply aren’t good enough for big sales. I need to keep on improving.

Maliheh said people were freaked out about the government shutdown and says people are starting to struggle where she is and that if it weren’t for the army base nearby, Fayetteville wouldn’t exist.

I wonder what’s up with Christine. She hasn’t been to my blog since Thursday and hasn’t replied to my email.

FRIDAY, APRIL 8, 2011 Sandy finally made it into my blog, though she only scanned the first page from what I could tell. She must not have gotten the message till a short while ago because her friend count just went up. Larry and Jenny may not have gotten their own messages yet, though I think it’s unlikely that they haven’t. I’m just surprised none of them have blocked me, especially Jenny.

Molly’s latest hilarious entry which included two more “letters” to Alison and Roman, said she hasn’t been spying on Alison because she’s “been asleep for a few days,” LOL.

Her “letter” to Roman starts off with, “The reason I don’t want to talk to you,” yet she’s talking to him in her blog. shakes head What a nut. Just what a nut.

I was feeling a little down last night and reached out to Nane, asking if she wanted to chat come morning time her time, but not surprisingly, she’s blown me off. I’ll probably get a little “smile” or a “hug” tomorrow or the next day to make up for it. I guess I can’t blame her, though. I mean, what can she do other than listen to me vent? If no one here in my own country can help me, then how could anyone in Germany help me? They could momentarily cheer me up and even make me laugh, but they couldn’t fix the problem at hand and lift the curse that’s been on us so we could actually get ahead for once and stay ahead for more than 5 minutes. She probably had to work, too.

I asked Tom what he thinks is the reason he didn’t get the job he wanted – his age or his color – and he thinks it’s because he worked so long as a manager and most people feel that because of it he wouldn’t be happy doing menial tasks.

So much for thinking experience gets you ahead, if he’s right. Don’t you just love it when others take it upon themselves to decide for us what we’d like, not like, want, or not want in life?

Still only one sale. I was really hoping more of my Facebook friends would be interested, but I guess not. And it doesn’t look like the Beanie Babies are going to sell either.

Although I still don’t like the idea of the aches and pains that often come with old age, I want to grow old and die of natural causes while surrounded by people who care about me. But I know this is just a dream like any other I’ve ever had in life, and that my quest for security is a joke. Never will I have even the simplest house where we’re both insured and neither of us has to wonder if we’re going to make it. Instead, here I am, still wondering if we’re going to be alive this summer. Will we be? And if we are, how about next winter? At the same time, it seems something wants us to just barely get by so we can live to be teased, picked on and punished.

It seems we’ve fallen into a regular pattern of wondering if we’re going to survive and we just can’t break this pattern. I wasn’t kidding when I said I missed some of my old problems. They were depressing and frustrating, but they were safer and less scary. Yet it seems the past only comes back to haunt us when it’s in a bad way.

I just want to be happy. I want to laugh, joke and live comfortably. Not like a queen in a mansion surrounded by tons of luxuries; just comfortable enough. I want to go back to worrying about things like my weight, not whether or not we may have to kill ourselves in a few months to avoid homelessness. Each year we continue to struggle, the more I lose faith and the more certain I am that things will never change and that this is what’s meant to be for us. I just don’t know what we did to deserve it.

For now, since I can’t seem to motivate myself to work out, I’m going to get some proofreading done of old journals, but I’m no longer going about it the way I had been by reading them word for word. Now I’m just running a grammar/spell checker through the files.

Later…

I’m sitting here wondering how the hell I’m going to market my book. How can I gain publicity, thus buyers?

If just half a million people in a country of what has over 250 million people would buy it, we’d never have to worry about money again. sighs But this book isn’t the greatest and no one knows who I am. I may be pretty good, but I still need to improve my grammar and things like that. Tom said I should also stop writing stories with characters based on people I know and events based on things I’ve actually experienced.

I almost wish I were suddenly famous or infamous for some reason or another, but without all the other shit that would go with it. If I were suddenly arrested for murder like Amanda Knox was, then people would be driven to buy it out of curiosity. So I need to think of a hook – one much less extreme – that would generate sales. But how? What can I do? How can I pique people’s curiosity since I’m not already a well-known writer?

Eileen suggested I see if a local TV or radio station would have me on as a guest to help promote my book, but I don’t see why they’d care to help promote me out of millions of other writers who are now turning to Kindle. It’s becoming a common thing for writers to bypass traditional publishers altogether and go straight to Kindle. I’m just one person floating about in a sea of thousands and thousands of other writers.

I could sit here and fantasize about becoming some sort of hero by maybe rescuing some people from some kind of disaster and getting publicity that way, but that’s just not going to happen.

And so I’ll probably only sell a few more copies, if even that, and we’ll go on to struggle. It’s really quite a pisser to know that the only way to get a guaranteed roof over your head, food in your tummy, and all the medical care in the world is to do something bad enough to land yourself in prison for life.

THURSDAY, APRIL 7, 2011 Although I’m trying and trying to shake it, I’m kind of depressed right now. Nothing we’re doing to try to help ourselves seems to be working yet. We have no bids on the Beanie Babies and I’ve only made one book sale so far. I didn’t expect much in the way of book sales since I’m not well known, but it still would’ve been nice to make more than one sale.

Marie did reply to the message I sent her about the book. She was happy for me and seems to be doing well except for a leg injury. She said she wouldn’t email me unless I email her as she knows I don’t want to go back to the constant messages. She said she’d go read my book, but I don’t think she realized she can’t “read” it without buying it, and that I was saying I got a book published for sale, but that’s ok.

She’s also with someone she says she’s marrying this July. I hope she’s happy and that things work out for her. Despite the stress and annoyance she put me through, I doubt I could ever dislike her. I think a part of me will always love her.

I’d say David definitely got my message too, LOL, since someone in Mesa, Arizona did a search for me and stumbled onto my blog. I could see what pages were accessed, but there’s no way to know which pages he himself accessed. Since all but one of the other visitors were regulars, I’d say it probably was he who accessed my archive and photo albums. Only about 5 older entries were accessed. I wonder if he’ll come back, though I doubt it.

Although I didn’t get up till close to 2pm, the day was filled with outside annoyances, though I’m not sure Jesse had anything to do with any of it. A wood chipper was annoying me for a while, then I heard what sounded like a ball bouncing which took me on an unpleasant trip down Memory Lane and back to Phoenix. There I got to enjoy 5-hour basketball games regularly that were just a few feet from our windows. They might as well have been bouncing the damn ball off the wall of our house, that’s how loud and obnoxious it was.

Jesse does have concrete at the front of his house, and while the thumping was relatively soft, it was annoying enough. I first thought his kid was bouncing a ball in front of his place, but it was actually someone hammering in the distance.

Then it was off to run the weed whacker, which I think probably was Jesse. Stupid of him too, since we might get a little more rain this month before it stops till the fall.

I forgot to mention in my last entry that Jesse’s not doing too well either. Of course he’s doing much better than us in that he has land, a nice house with adequate space, more than one vehicle, etc., but he too, has no income coming in at the moment. He’s still trying to get on either disability or retirement. But at least he could borrow money, as we know he did for that little car. We have no one to borrow from, and not having any income other than what we make online is pretty scary. I know I don’t have to take it, though, and that I can end it anytime. I don’t have to take another 30-40 years of this shit.

Sometimes I want to throw myself on the bed and cry, but the tears just won’t come. If bad things happen to good people and good things happen to bad people so much of the time as is what seems to be the case, do I have to hurt someone to get ahead?

I’m just depressed. Too depressed to care about things like dieting, exercising, language studies and things like that. Right now I’m only focused on how to either make money or save money. Besides my writing, of course, but sometimes even that’s hard to concentrate on.

Being aware of my “life sentence” of struggling in other people’s tiny places is one thing, accepting it is another. Why can’t I just cram reality down my throat and move on?!

I hate older places not just because I prefer the looks of modern places but because they tend to have more problems. So I try to at least be glad we don’t have to be the ones to pay to fix things as they break around here.

Paula called and even she’s doing better than us. Her weather was nicer, her court case might be dismissed, she’s been granted section 8 housing, and she met a “great” guy in a chat room who lives in Sacramento. She was glad to hear about the book, but can’t access the link to that which I enclosed in an email, or my blog because she doesn’t know how to enable links. Hopefully, Justin can set that up for her.

Molly’s still staying away, now claiming that she “learned” from her doctor today that not everyone is going to like her. Wow, you mean it took her 27 years to figure that out? That’s kind of sad. But she’ll get hit with amnesia soon enough. I really think she’s got this sick addiction for bothering those who don’t like her, much in the way I did with the pranks 20 years ago, which she struggles with and has to fight the urges constantly. She’s been the way she is for nearly a decade that I know of, so who knows how long it will go on?

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 6, 2011 Got my first book sale! It’s probably Christine, Eileen or Andy, and my sales will probably drop off to nothing once my friends help themselves, but it’s still pretty cool either way. Poor Mitch, though, LOL. The guy has no sales yet.

Perhaps another reason it’s not that exciting to me besides the fact that everything else in life sucks, is because it’s not a regular book. It’s a lot like selling something on eBay instead, only it’s something I made.

Eileen was busy with her grandkids, so that’s why she didn’t respond right away. She’s sorry about Tom losing his job but psyched about the story and said she’d download it to her Kindle. I don’t know if Christine has a Kindle, but even though I offered to give her a free copy since she’s a friend, she said she’d rather buy it and loves to read anyway. That is so cool of them! Some are posting the link to the book on their Facebook pages.

Nothing from Tammy yet, though it occurred to me that she might be jealous over something like this. Anything artistic tends to do that to her, LOL, though bookwriting isn’t the same as singing, so who knows? It could be that she’s upset that I haven’t talked to her on the phone, but who cares?

I “dropped” my book link on his brother David. He’s the only one of Tom’s siblings/in-laws I could find, besides his two kids. I even let Marie know, though I have a feeling I may regret that one if I hear back from her.

Not sure how the hell I did it, but I managed to sleep through Jesse coming down to fix the pipe. He said something about coming down to do additional work, and tomorrow we’re supposed to have thunderstorms, so I’m sure my sleep will still be disrupted at some point. Now’s when I hate to be on nights and I hate to be on days. On nights I don’t sleep well, on days I don’t get enough time alone with him out of work. I haven’t had any time alone since I got up 9 hours ago. I hate that! I just want to be ALONE! Gotta get used to it, though, since it’s going to be months before he’s working again.

We listed a lot of 6 Beanie Babies on eBay, so hopefully we can start selling them off lot by lot.

I’m going to send my folks excerpts from the book, some jokes, and a screenshot of the book at the online store. Just not until we have extra money for stamps. I don’t want to spend money on anything we don’t need right now.

Here’s Molly’s latest load of bull. She erased all her other entries, but she does that regularly. I’ve come to know her well enough to know that her words won’t mean much for long. The last sentence alone tells me she’s still hoping to “win” us over. I just don’t get why I’m lumped in as one of her “former friends.” Is she delusional as well as lacking in self-respect that she’s got to seek out negative attention from those she knows hate her?

Molly wrote that she was not in a healthy state of mind during the years she bothered her former friends. She said she was sorry for her past actions online, admitting she didn’t know how to stop herself. She apologized for what she did and said online to people and hopes for reconciliation. She claims she recognizes that she wasn’t thinking rationally when online and now wants harmony without conflict or name-calling.

TUESDAY, APRIL 5, 2011 I called to wish my dad a happy 80th birthday. Ma was on the line too, but I mostly talked with dad, as usual. He sounded chipper enough for being the old man he now is, as amazing and as sad as that sounds. They had a dry spell, I guess, and said they got some much-needed rain today that was to stop by the time they went out for dinner.

Dad’s hopeful for book sales and says to get everything we can get, assistance-wise. Yeah, it’s looking like we’ll have to, unfortunately. I appreciate whatever help we can get, but still, we didn’t come here to be a couple of welfare bums. I’m not sure which was the bigger mistake, moving to Oregon or moving to California. Life is so not what we plan it to be. But sadly, we are where we’re meant to be which is basically nowhere. In 5 years, if we’re still around, we’ll still be broke and uninsured. Same with 10 and 20 years from now. It’s like a life sentence of sorts that’s been handed down to us where we must spend 80% of our lives struggling to survive.

They’re sending another IHOP GC which is so nice of them, so we at least have that to look forward to since there’s no extra money for eating out. We don’t usually do that much anyway. It’s bad for our diets, and most restaurants are pretty wild these days unless you go in the middle of the night or early morning when the animals disguised as children are less likely to be out and about.

I told them a little about the weather, what we found out about the county and the dentist, and our plans to give the Beanie Babies another go on eBay. We’re going to list them tomorrow, so long as nothing comes up to mess with our plans.

I’ve been tired for most of the day because I barely slept 6 hours cuz of the stress. Tomorrow I’ll also be in for some more shitty sleep because there’s a slight leak in the pipe going into the trailer, so Jesse’s coming back down to fix it. Tom told him I’d be asleep till noon, but I’m sure he’ll wake me up anyway. Especially since I may need to sleep past noon. I guess the worst-case scenario is he wakes me up while he’s here, then I go back to sleep. Lost sleep or not, at least it’s another reason to be glad we don’t have our own place and probably never will.

Despite all the fuss the guy at the temp agency made and the way he got Tom all hopeful, he’s been completely blown off, probably because he’s older and white. I’m not surprised as I said before since we’re not allowed any short-term problems in life. He’ll be out of work for months.

I had wondered if something up there would drive us to our deaths to keep us from our pension fund, but if it kills us then it can’t have all this fun cursing us, so we just may get to live after all. Then it can just screw us out of the money somehow instead. As of yet, though, there’s just over a year to go and no one’s notified Tom of any significant changes or problems.

A close friend was saying that she could relate to the stress I’m going through, but as sad as it may sound, it actually gets easier each time something up there feels the need to get a kick out of teasing me with my survival. Oh, I’m still stressing, but another 4 or 5 layoffs and I just might be a real expert at dealing with this shit.

The bird’s nest I discovered on the porch rafters a while ago gives me a spark of hope, too. I guess it’s an oriental thing where they consider the discovery of a bird’s nest nearby a sign of good luck to come (unless old nests don’t count, since these birds seem to be reusing an old nest). Someone told me that last year when I discovered the nest when it was first created. A little over two months later he had a job. So we’ll see what happens in the next 60-70 days. There’s been lots of deer and jackrabbits out and about too, which makes sense this time of year. It’s no longer cold and rainy, but it’s not hot yet either. Unfortunately, we’re going to have another cold snap where it might even rain. This means we’ll need to use more propane. sighs

As I told some people, it’s hard to really enjoy the excitement of getting my book published with all this other shit going on. It just hasn’t hit me yet that I can no longer say I’m just a homemaker or just a “semi-published” writer. I’m a real author now. For real. I may not make shit for sales, but this “pro” status is definitely gonna take time to sink in.

I told Tammy, Eileen and Sharyn about it, and was surprised not to have heard back from Tammy and Eileen. Sharyn told me it wasn’t her that was divorced 4 times. She was actually married to a guy for 15 years. I felt like such an idiot! Obviously, I read the wrong article. She was featured with a few others and I guess I was reading up on the wrong person or something. Anyway, she wished me luck with the book.

Nothing from Larry, Sandy and Jenny still. They not only haven’t viewed my blog, but they haven’t even blocked me. I’m surprised. Then again, maybe they figure that would be giving me a “reaction” they don’t want to give me if they did, same with why the black bitch didn’t block me.

I haven’t even heard from Maliheh lately.

Upon closer inspection of Larry’s page, one of his “interests” is “being with the people I love, with Stephanie.”

Well, Stephanie, who is also on his friend list, is a definite child woman. From the looks of her picture, she can’t be a day over 18.

Tom finally got his own Facebook account, but only for the sake of getting free stuff. He set everything to ‘friends only’ so no one contacts him.

As for the troll, it took a day off today from viewing my blog, but her friend/ ex-friend in Savannah, GA just checked in. Molly spent the day bitching about Roman instead, a local guy who’s been trying to get her to leave him alone.

I’m sick of the constant change on all the sites I use! As soon as I get used to doing something a particular way they run and change it. I hate change! Changing background images is one thing, but the way they change things around and make me have to hunt for where the features are now located and all that shit really annoys the hell outa me.

MONDAY, APRIL 4, 2011 My book is almost published and ready for sale. For some strange reason, they publish it in stages over about 72 hours. So the book’s there, but there’s no pricing info yet. I selected the lowest price of $2.99 since it’s my first novel and I’m still a nobody. Once Amazon takes its cut I’ll pocket $2.00.

I will have to have Nane, Adonis and Mitch see if it’s available for purchase in their countries. It should be, but I don’t know for sure.

Nane sent me pretty pink flowers on Facebook and congratulated me after I told her about it on her wall and sent her flowers as well. She asked if it could be translated into German, but I don’t know that there’s any kind of automatic translator.

We’re also going to have to edit out Tom’s name. Even though we listed him as the illustrator, the cover page says it’s by both of us which leads one to think we both wrote the book itself. It says I’m the author and he’s the illustrator only when you click on the book.

Also, the cover doesn’t make for the greatest thumbnail. We should’ve used the same bright red for my name since you can barely see it. There should’ve been more contrast between the trees and sky, but hey, it’s our first time doing this.

It pisses me off that I have to be careful where I post my book link, but thanks to Molly I can’t just drop it anywhere and everywhere. I’m sure she’ll still find it. As dumb as she may be overall, she’s proven to have an amazing talent for finding the people she stalks, among other things.

Then again, fuck it. I’m going to post it where I want. That would be letting her control me by not posting it where I wanted. Hopefully, she won’t use it as a weapon to harass me.

I said she was probably harmless, but the more I read the craziness in her blog, the more I wonder if perhaps she’s really a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. And how does she know I’ve been reading it? Does she have a tracker there or something? I’m just wondering because, in one of her “letters” to Alison, she asks why her friends read her blog. But yeah, it’s so crazy that it’s almost funny. She groups us all together and includes me in her list of “former friends,” and goes back and forth like crazy on her feelings and actions. I’ve never seen anyone swing up and down and be so damn contradicting like she is. One minute she just loves Alison, the next she’s badmouthing her. She also swings back and forth between admitting she “spies” on us because she’s bored and lonely, and then insisting she’ll never bother again because online friends are a “waste of time.” She talks about panic attacks and having all kinds of anger and other negative emotions. It’s hard to believe she held a job for 7 years as she also claims as an usher in a movie theater. Wonder why she quit. She claims she was raped over a year ago. Maybe this is part of what’s driving her batty, along with this guy in her town she wants a relationship with that wants nothing to do with her.

It doesn’t look like Tom’s going to get that job after all. I’m not surprised either. I knew it was too good to be true and that nothing lets us suffer for that short of a time. It’ll probably be months before he gets something. Meanwhile, we’ll just have to play the Unemployment game again, sit back and endure the rough ride ahead, and watch the days turn into weeks and the weeks turn into months.

Thanks, God. Just thanks.

The dreams I had pretty much told me we weren’t going to get any good news today, though they weren’t as scary as that dream where the riot was closing in on me.

In one dream the phone rang, I answered, and a woman said something about Tom’s applying for a job at a warehouse. I repeated the message to Tom who was nearby and he said, “Oh yeah, a warehouse,” and took the phone from me. A second later a black woman was there who supposedly had something to do with the job, but then she disappeared. I asked Tom what the caller and the visitor wanted and he said he didn’t know and that he wasn’t sure.

The bad dream, though it had nothing to do with work and money, took place in some house. It looked like a real house anyway and was much bigger. I seemed to be working on some major project, be it cleaning, decorating, packing or unpacking. I had stuff scattered everywhere and music blasting. At one point I looked behind me to find the screen door to a slider open and thought it a bit odd. I guess Tom shouldn’t have been home at that time. I stepped over to the slider. The sun was setting and I could see the silhouette of what I first thought was Tom in a fairly good-sized backyard. But then the person started running away right as I heard loud banging from inside the house. I woke up trying to decide whether or not to chase the person who was running or deal with whoever was in the house.

A woman did come down here today, though she wasn’t black, and it definitely had nothing to do with any job. She just wanted directions. It’s the first time anyone’s ever come down to ask us, too.

SUNDAY, APRIL 3, 2011 This is it, folks! My book has been accepted for publication and so now begins the exciting countdown to when it’s actually available for sale! It will be available in e-book form only. Not paperback. You don’t need a Kindle to read it, but you will need a Kindle reader which is a free application you can download that will enable you to read it in Word. I will post the link as soon as I get it, probably tomorrow. Buy it and I’ll be your friend for life. :)

Andy’s all excited about it, but I don’t think he realized at first that it’s not going to be available in print. The only way to really get it “in print” would be to print out a copy from Word. I explained to him about the program he can download to read it without a Kindle.

Now if only – if only – Tom could get his own good news tomorrow! I’d give up this whole book thing for him to get the job he wants! It would be such awesome money and I know he would love the convenience the closeness would bring instead of having to drive 45 minutes each way to Grass Valley. We’re still pretty hopeful and I know my good mood will help. I also know now’s a good time to enter sweeps with the way my mood tends to “influence” things in a more extreme way.

As soon as I have the link to my book I’ll start spreading the word and hope others will too! I never would’ve thought I’d get a book published, regardless of the method. All I’ve gotten published before that I’ve actually been paid for was super short stories, articles and reviews. I guess it’s no longer true to say I’m a “semi-published” author, LOL.

Still no poem reviews, not that it matters much, but I got a nice comment on my current book. They said they were glad I posted more of the story and are looking forward to the ending. If life will soon be returning to normal for us, I can get on with that soon enough.

Had someone told me I’d write a story with Maliheh as one of the lead characters, even if I’d change her name, and that she’d know about it and suggest publishing it, I’d have laughed my ass off so hard! ROTFL! I just hope no assholes like Molly post nasty comments in the review section.

Speaking of assholes, no blog views from Jenny, Larry or Sandy. I’m kind of surprised too, though I realize there’s a chance they may not have picked up my message yet. None of them have blocked me yet, so who knows?

Leaving a comment on Alison’s Thoughts blog through Facebook created a new account for me. rolls eyes So I had to run and block Molly since Molly already found Alison’s new account, and when she checks her blog/comments, she’ll find mine. I’m not going to go back to blogging there in the near future.

SATURDAY, APRIL 2, 2011 The weekend has been going agonizingly slow as we wait and hope that Monday brings a turnaround in our luck – him with a job and me with my book which we submitted for publication a few hours ago. We changed the synopsis but didn’t bother with dedications. Tom did a great job with the cover. I listed him as my illustrator under contributions.

No bad vibes or dreams lately. The two-story house dreams are back, but I don’t think they mean anything. As long as I don’t have any nightmares! Marie and whatever his name was are renting their two-story house down in “Cluster Park,” as I call it. They’re the people who asked if we had a dog on our way out one day and said some dog was keeping them up all night. Let me guess – they’re leaving because they couldn’t get the owners to take responsibility for shutting it up and of course they won’t tell any prospective renters about it, right? Either way, I always did say it was a lousy location down there by the main road where there’s a cluster of houses. That’s why I call it Cluster Park. It kind of defeats the purpose of moving out to the country if you’re just going to have neighbors on top of you. You might as well stay in the city if you’re not going to get any breathing space around you. I guess sometimes you can’t escape everything by running to the country. Barking is just as bad here as it is in the city.

They called off the rain we were supposed to have tomorrow and it wasn’t nearly as warm today. We haven’t needed heat all day but we couldn’t open windows either. Tiny yellow and purple wildflowers are all over the land now and it looks really cool, but the Cali oaks are late this year in budding new leaves. During our first two summers here we could leave the windows open all the time starting in mid-June. Last year it was a week after mid-June. Hopefully, it won’t be even later this year.

My Nane story has had hundreds of reads on Booksie yet hasn’t received one single comment yet. No one’s commented on my poems either.

Still sweeping away like crazy too, but don’t know if it’ll be like old times, so to speak. Not with all the people entering these days and there being fewer sweeps to enter. One sweep listed their odds. My chance of winning a lousy duffle bag these days is 1 in 75,000. Yet I was chosen out of 7,000 other entries for the cruise in 2006. If I don’t get any win notices by the time my 3-month subscription expires, I’ll give up sweeping once again. Sure hope I won’t have to, though!

Found Jenny C and her one friend on Facebook, LOL. I sent a message saying: You still fucking my brother?

That ought to shock her, LOL. I don’t expect or want a reply from the selfish, conceited bitch. Can’t say she hasn’t aged well, though, cuz she has. She’s got her hair dyed blondish now and she’s still slim. Guess she lives in the same house in West Springfield (both her parents are no doubt dead by now) and she has a cleaning business.

Wowee, I just found Larry and Sandy. Only, not surprisingly, they appear to be divorced since Larry’s coming up as living in Southwick and Sandy’s still in Feeding Hills. I’m not surprised at all. I’m only surprised it didn’t happen 20 years ago. My brother, as he himself admitted, is quite a slut.

Here’s what I wrote about him and Jenny in my blog (but not Sandy), assuming they check it out:

Found an old “friend” from something like 20 years and 3000 miles ago that I looked up online out of curiosity. I don’t care to ever be her friend again as I remember her to be rather selfish and conceited (not that I was or am perfect myself as I can get pretty damn selfish, too) any more than I’d want to be buds with my hypocrite of a brother again despite his great sense of humor (and he’s one of the funniest guys I ever knew), but I do wish her the very best in life. According to the one picture I saw of her, I’d say she’s aged quite well.

Speaking of my brother, OMG he pissed me the fuck off so badly back when I was 21 and again when I was around 32. I was young, dumb, naive and scared of just about everything at 21, but had he lived nearby when he pissed me off as bad as he did in the late 90s, not even his size could’ve saved him had I gone storming over to his place on account of it! How could someone piss me off so bad that could be so damn funny at the same time??? I’ve always wondered about this. Really, that guy could make even the most serious of people laugh their asses off until tragedy struck and he seemed to take it out on just about everyone. And why did he have to screw every single female friend I ever introduced him to? Oh well. Now he’s divorced, single and free by the looks of it, so live it up and play the field, dude! You ain’t getting any younger.

Talk about the ultimate karma, LOL! I wonder if they’ve ever looked me up?

I also found their daughter Jennifer, who looks very beautiful and has studied nursing. I didn’t message her, though.

FRIDAY, APRIL 1, 2011 Here’s a little freeform-ish poem I wrote earlier today. The words just came to mind and so I jotted them down. Tom and Mitch liked it.

At Seventeen

At seventeen I had high hopes and dreams. But someone tried to murder me at seventeen. I lived for the moment, never worried about the future. The future would take care of itself, I was sure. But then I grew up and stepped into a whole different world. Disappointment, desperation and a loss of hope left my mind in a whirl. All the while there was hardly a dull moment at any point during the ride. Up, down, left, right go the adventures and heartaches of my life. Almost missed out on some things thanks to the person who nearly took my life. Bad news always has me slipping back in time, wanting to end it all. It’s so much easier to skip out on the chaos that sometimes befalls. But things have a way of working out in the end somehow, some way. And so I’m a former singer who was meant to be an author these days. I write and I write as I always have so much to tell. Funny thing too, for my would-be killer was myself.

Later…

The interview went well, though we won’t know anything for sure until Monday. Tom has a way of being overly optimistic, but I don’t have a bad feeling, and they did give him the paperwork and tell him where the company he might work for is located. This is something they don’t normally do unless they’re going to hire you for sure, he said. He may have to take a drug test here in town. These days they just swab your mouth. Sure wish they had that when I was on probation. Having to piss in front of someone for something you didn’t do was a real bitch. I won’t even get to thinking right now about those days of getting off for the things I was actually guilty of and being made to pay for the things I wasn’t guilty of.

Meanwhile, it sucks to have to wait and hope over the weekend, but he feels 80% certain that he’ll get at least one of the positions they need filled. It’s just a matter of whether or not he gets the one he wants most. He’ll take anything, even if it’s minimum wage or part-time or both, but getting over two grand take-home would sure be nice.

And it would get us wondering, once again, if we should move or not. That would be a tough one as both staying and going have their pros and cons. As I told someone the other day, there are two different types of people in this world. There are the smart ones who follow their heads and do what’s safest, then there are the stupid ones (like myself) who follow their hearts and take risks. I still don’t get how I got to be such an adventurer, LOL! Tom said he’d rather be miserable with me than have it all alone and I agree. :) Right now we’re not miserable, and I hope we don’t get there. I hope my bawling my eyes out like I did the Wednesday before last will end up being all for nothing.

Anyway, the company he wants to work for is only open Monday through Thursday, so that’s why we may have to wait till Monday to find out anything. The person who makes the final decision wasn’t there today and the girl was mistaken when she told him he might start today. If he gets the job he’ll work 10-12 hours a day, starting at 4pm.

I’m trying not to get my hopes up even though it’s so hard not to. If he got this job then his being laid off would turn out to be a blessing in disguise, not something that usually happens to us. Usually, when something bad happens it’s to punish us and inflict some kind of pain and suffering upon us. At least that’s how it seems. And our setbacks in life usually aren’t this short either, so that’s why I don’t want to get too ahead of myself on the thought of being able to stop worrying about money again, or being able to call the propane people out to fill us up, or being able to decide if we want to move or not.

Tentatively, we should be able to submit my book to the submissions department tomorrow. Tom’s still working on the cover. In his opinion, it’s not my best work. He says it’s well written, but the story’s about a 7, and the ending is about a 5. He didn’t like my surprise ending which came to me in a dream, LOL, but that’s ok.

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary418

11/15-16/24

friday - saturday

rather good day,

i talked my gf's ear off about mormons during dinner, one thing i said, was that i think via joseph smith being so evidently odd and incapable of articulating himself as, i don't know, he doesn't have the grace of the bible say, so all the cruelty, misogyny, the odd violence and split / blindness necessary for what supports many of the social aspects of faith, church its history etc., he makes those things evident, i don't think the sacrifice / rituality / violence is so special to mormonism, what is special to it, is its way of crushing it i guess, it like, exposes it, like a wound, an undressed festering wound a blind eye must be turned to, continuously. this is true for many faiths, i suppose, but in mormonism there is some oddity to how bare this all is. it is pregnant with wretched and strange cosmic failure, an inverse to o'connor's notions of being haunted by christ, instead, it's this void of faith it feels like, where the grotesque is similar in function, where it reminds one of the faith and extremity of that faith, but it feels emptier and colder, less panic, more oddly secular, as if it produces our world as not cut off from something ancient and cruel, it feels like somehow closer to the machinations of religions who built temples of stone in forests, communing for what, and a cosmic order of strange hierarchy. of course i am such a total outsider, but it fills me with a particular dread that reminds me of how god and things felt to me when i was young and afraid always.

otherwise... the day was good, grocery shopping was easy, it was busy, too, the moon was huge and there were clouds and the coldness was beautiful, one cloud was the shape of the jets the military test overhead, so oversized it became a clumsy and pretty brushstroke looming, the sunset behind the heavy clouds all over the mountains, a little more drowned in snow than before. it feels like winter in a way it hasn't for me in a very long time. supposedly this is the last super moon for a long time, really huge, a giant eye.

well i've drawn more today too, i'll do more in a bit too i think.

quickly i want to talk about another alan clarke film i watched today, road, which was really beautiful, the rooms these people are in, they all have the texture of francis bacon paintings, the people too, in pain, moving about, shrieking, they seem like subjects of his in some way i suppose. really, i want to point to this monologue by louise in the film, she says, i am paraphrasing, but she says she's a quiet person, people think you're deaf and dumb, you want to say things, it's hard. at this point i began to cry but at that point i was choking up, as the monologues spoken by 3 other characters were all affecting too, strange and pain filled, the ending, somehow, somehow, find a way out. maybe the most striking work on, i dunno, living, mostly poverty, its politics though, this is why i love clarke, the political sphere isn't kept out of these emotional fields, it's not some distant thing we theorize over, these are the means by which we live, or are made to live, and the penetrate our deepest feelings, shape them, at one point it is spoken, paraphrasing again, drain the world of all feelings, strangeness, you're only left with profit and loss analysis. it is a startling work, a man in the film has resolved to starve himself, to see 'what else there is', because all that is about him cannot be the end of it. the way i cried, and it hurt my throat, choking me up in a way that hurts, made to see, really made i guess, something weird inside myself or something, the way you get choked up in arguments with your parents, tear filled, aching, the times you cry that something is moving about in you. a new thing swallowed. to become a sediment for other things to rest upon.

i now think of the first man in that series of speeches, he reminds me of a couple people, he keeps saying he wants to be a hero, he reminds me of our friend who sometimes sits on our couch here coming down from ketamine or e or other things. he is a good person who wishes he were better, struggling too, constantly. it is sad how rotten the world feels, i guess.

as i am getting ready for bed, here is a funny thing that happened today, my friend got me into that nyt daily game called letterboxed, i told them i did it in 4 words, they did it in 3, while doing it they found a whole new word, to they and i, ylem. ylem means the matter/nonmatter which made up the cosmos before the big bang, so i guess, not nonmatter, like everything at once. it feels profoundly poetic to come across it while just hitting random keys to play a game. i am very pleased by this occurence, i hope i remember this word, ylem, the hypothetical origin / substance which supposedly exploded, into right now, roughly, or seconds ago. i wonder as time moves on, everything behind us contracts back into that vague everything only to explode before us again, flowers in infinite time lapse, never closing up but only ever blooming, more more more more petals for all eternity, until it stops i guess. it will have to stop some time.

i also took photos of myself, here, i think my outfit is rather cute today:

i also did more lineart on one of the new drawings, #good. i began coloring too, since it's roughly done re: lineart, or not done but it's sketched out and the painting/coloring will create more opportunity to build things out. i'm looking forward to how this pattern i'm putting on this shirt blouse thing i am coloring in will make my life hell, the pattern isn't really pattern-y it's more like a bunch of random flowers drawn on the thing, wherever i please. so i'm making it easier on myself. looking forward still, to whatever difficulties that come with that. it's interesting how relaxing drawing can be. years ago especially and sometimes recently, not so recently, but, still, it filled me with frustration that things i did weren't perfect, now it's not that i don't care, it's just harder to even know what perfect would mean, i realized really what level i need to get to, is to get to the point where i'm okay showing people what i'm doing, that competency, and the patience to keep working at stuff, and that's finally here. i am 26, i've tried since i was a kid to be there with visual stuff, it was always so hard, or, i'm here with regards to patience, and it doesn't feel humiliating showing people or putting it out into the public, the things i waste my life doing. (i say that in a kind of twee way (if my gf saw this she would call me a manic pixie dream girl or something ( or quirky (i'm not quirky it's just what comes to mind... to say... you know...)))).

i also listened to a bunch of songs, today, that i made. they sound good with all the time i've taken off of that stuff, which feels good. some things i need to do become clearer, really good sensation, when it becomes clear to me that the big issue in this one thing i wanna get done so i can do vocals and then i'll have like, a decent amount of stuff set up for a single or something or like a micro ep or whatever, i need to lower reverb in the mix, which i knew, but also, i know where it's interfering, i know i need to make the bass more prominent, that sort of thing. that the tones are there i just need to level them out a bit more, lower guitars a bit maybe,,, yeah...

i was reading but i am too sleepy now, to keep my eyes open even,

so,

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[ladylovato17]

The mere mortal strikes back

This last week was the height of situational anxiety after my diagnosis and subsequent treating. When I finally began my treatment for Generalized Anxiety Disorder, I hoped this wouldn't happen again. But it did.

Another Open of tennis was announced at Graciosa and, by now, with some investigative work, I learned some more ropes about how things work when a open event happens there.

My planner was ready, I prepared 4 out of the 5 days of competition to enjoy. Remember me saying my biggest regret is not going for a Night Round at the Centre Court?

Well, I had a really nice dinner. During a night round. In the OPENING DAY!

But, damn, the Monday preceding the opening was one of those days in which I was destroyed, and, believe me, I only felt like this DESTROYED 3 times in my life, all of them when I had to give up on my dreams. It poured. Of all days of winter (we are barely having one), it chose to rain in the week of the Open.

Well, once again God held the big big gates of Heaven for me. And I was able to enjoy the Saturday afternoon too!

Look how beautiful the weather was!

I was even able to enjoy some FABULOUS (just like in High School Musical) time under the sun by the pools!

Well, this is basically my Disney castle, my American dream!

Considering we are now (supposedly) in winter, dress code was more focused this time in protecting us from the very typical hot sun/ cold wind duo, customary for this time of the year (when the sun makes itself present, a rare occasion). So, heavy coats, snow boots and jackets. It's one of the most relaxed dress codes. Just like the other time, sportswear also applied because most of the spectators were associates who were also playing.

I could also enjoy a beautiful view of the golf course. The big big Rolex watch was there (just wait for me!). The beautiful 6000 yard course which once welcomed Walt Disney. Yes.

By now, we just wait for the announcement of the Festval Challenger, this is a very important one, as it puts Curitiba in the ATP route.

[arickaandherfictionalothers]

Stranger Hunger Games: The Reaping

(Aricka x Steve Harrington)

(Hawkins is Panem. Brenner is Snow. Jane gets reaped and Aricka volunteers.)

July 4th. 74 ADD.

I woke up early this morning. I never sleep well the night before the Reaping Ceremony. Nightmares plague my mind and I always end up waking before the rest of my family-

My adoptive father, Bob Newby, who took my siblings and I in when our real parents died from a sickness. He’s a kind man who does everything he can to provide for the five of us, but when you live in district 12 that isn’t always much.

My older by two years brother Jonathan. He works in the mines most days, Saturday being his one day off and even then he works part of the day at the smithy, making things for trade.

My twin siblings. Will is the older, who has an aptitude for the arts, always drawing on scrap paper with whatever broken crayons or colored pencils he can find. Jane is the youngest, the most innocent of us all. She’s deeply empathetic and has a talent for healing. She knows what herbs are best for any illness or injury and can help you feel better just by mixing up a tea.

And then there’s me. My name is Aricka Newby. I’m 16 years old, and this is my fifth time in the Reaping Bowl. But with the tesserae me and my brother sign up for; my name is in the bowl 80 times. So much for the odds being in my favor.

Anyway. As I’m already awake, I get dressed as quickly and quietly as possible and sneak out of the house, out past the meadow and through a small opening in the supposedly electric fence.

Now I’m free to think whatever I want, but only for a little while. I run to the hollow oak tree where my bow and arrows are stashed and check the snare lines for any game, and come up with a rabbit. My family could have a nice stew tonight for dinner.

I steal quietly through the forest, my dad having taught me to hunt when he was still alive, showing me how to be quiet as a whisper, not making a sound when I walk. I find some edible berries and nuts and store them in my bag, and to my luck I find some burdock and dandelions, which lead me to a patch of dock seed, and that is lucky because dock seed can be ground into flour; and if we add it to our grain ration we could have a more hearty bread.

And then, to my immense delight, I found ripe elderberries, Jane’s favorite. I could make a pie tonight after the ceremony to celebrate none of us being reaped and all of us being together.

All in all, I had a successful morning, as I made my way home, hiding my bow and arrows in the hollow oak tree and heading back to the fence.

Jon was waiting for me, like he always does. “You find anything?” He asks. I hand him my bag as I stand up, and he nods in approval. “Nice. We can work with this.” I grin and he wraps an arm around my shoulder. “It’s time to get ready. The ceremony is in two hours.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Soon, I’m dressed in my mother’s only remaining dress- a soft blue thing, with capped sleeves and a flowing skirt. My hair is braided by Jane and pinned up off my neck, adorned with a single hairpin with a mockingjay on it. In turn I braid Jane’s hair in two fishtail braids, weaving them together and pinning them in a crown on her head. Jane is wearing one of my old white blouses that is still too big on her and a tan skirt with her brown boots. She looks impossibly small and innocent and I want to take her and run away from here. I can’t let my baby sister die in the Games.

I won’t let it happen. “I’m scared,” she whispered as she grabs my hand. “I don’t want to be chosen.”

“Janie it won’t happen,” I reassure her, hating that I’m not sure if I’m lying to her. “You only have one slip in there, the odds are in your favor.” She nods but leans her head against my shoulder like she’s five again. I press my hand against her neck and kiss her temple. “I won’t let anything happen to you Janie. I promise.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

It was Jane. They called her name. She- this shouldn’t be happening- but it is- NO.

I push past the crowd and make my way to Jane. “I VOLUNTEER-!” My voice is sure and steady despite my shaking hands. “I volunteer as tribute.” I reach for Jane and push her behind me; knowing instinctively that Jonnie would get her and take her to dad. She was crying and trying to protest, but the peacekeepers were already escorting me to the stairs.

Joyce Byers, the tribute escort for district 12, motions for me to stand by her with a motherly look on her face- I can’t stand to look at it. “I’ll bet anything that was your sister, wasn’t it dear?” She asks.

“Yes. My name is Aricka Newby,” I whispered into the microphone.

“Well; let’s give a big hand for your first volunteer, district 12!” Instead of clapping like she expected, I nearly cry as my district gives me the farewell salute- a three fingered one, after they kissed those very digits. I couldn’t help but return the gesture, wanting them to know I was proud to belong to them. “And now for the boys,” she said and goes over to the bowl where I know Jon’s name was in there 126 times. It’s his last reaping, I think desperately. Don’t let it be him. I can’t kill my own brother.

Joyce stands in front of the microphone. “The male tribute for district 12 is…” and she opens the piece of paper. She takes a deep breath and looks up. “Steve Harrington.”

I feel my heart drop into my stomach and back to my throat at the same time. Relief that it wasn’t Will or Jonathan- that Jonathan would never have to face the arena, that he was safe- filled me at the same time that dread filled my stomach. It had to be the one boy who I owed my life to.

He looks terrified as he is escorted by the same peacekeepers to the stage, where Joyce walks him over to stand in front of me. “Go on you two, shake hands,” she ushered.

Steve looks at me and I again find myself loosing my breath as I gaze into those soft, dark chocolate eyes. His hand is firm and sure and he squeezes- perhaps a form of reassurance?- and I can’t help but reciprocate. His lips twitch upwards and our hands drop but we don’t let go. He looks at me in confusion and I give him a desperate glance as if saying if he let go of my hand I might collapse right on the spot. He seems to understand and grips my hand tighter at this.

We walk into the justice hall together, until we are pushed into separate rooms for our goodbyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jane is the first one to run into the room, pressing her face into my shoulder. Will does the same thing on the other side, both my little sister and brother crying. “Shh,” I whispered. “Hey. I’m tough. I can do this. I’ll come back for you guys. I won’t leave you. Never ever.”

“Promise.” Jane’s fierce little voice sounded so weak in the moment.

“Promise us,” Will adds.

“I swear,” I whispered. I look at Jon and notice his eyes are red rimmed. “Jonnie, don’t blame yourself. You couldn’t have volunteered for me or Jane. I chose to save Jane. You would’ve done it for Will.” He nods, and finally joins our group hug. “Don’t let them starve. You know how to use the same thing I do. Use it. Be smart. Be safe. I love you.” Bob stands by the door until my siblings have had a chance to each hug me and say goodbye.

I walk up to the man who I’ve called dad since I was six. “Thank you,” I said and hug him tightly.

“My girl…” he says, cupping the back of my head and squeezing me firmly. “I wish you were coming home tonight. But I’ve known since you came to stay with me you were a fighter. Now you just fight hard and come back, understand?”

“I will dad,” I whispered. “I promise.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Steve and I meet at the back exit of the justice building and he offers me his hand once more. I’m not embarrassed to admit the offer comforted me so I willingly gave him my own hand. He grips it tightly and pulls me closer to him and gives the cameras a deadly look. We make our way to the train, Joyce leading the way as we board.

I’m immediately taken aback by the amount of food in the room before us. It’s enough to feed the entire district but it’s here for four of us. Steve and I share a look and he guides us- our hands still tightly clasped together- to the table. An attendant was there and Steve smiles politely at him. “Hi, my name is Steve and this is Aricka. Could you please make us protein shakes? With peanut butter and healthy carbs; and maybe some snacks with good nutritional value? Perhaps fresh fruit and veggies?” The question blows me away and I know it does the attendant, probably because we’re an outlying district and we usually don’t make it past the first day in the Games.

When he returns he asks, “Would you like me to take your request and give it to the chefs at the tribute training center? They would alter all your meals to be served with your request in mind.”

“Yes please- also we would like protein in our diet and foods that are high in energy,” Steve adds, taking both the plates and letting me grab the shakes as he answers. The attendant nods and leaves to fill our requests. I stare at Steve in wonder and he motions for me to sit beside him. “If we’re going to have even a remote shot at getting past the first day we need all the help we can get,” he says.

“You’re- you want an alliance- with me?” The idea didn’t seem so bad, Steve clearly knew what he was doing. He nods.

“I want you to come home to your family, I’ll do whatever it takes.” He grabs my hand and gives me a serious look. “I have a strategy I want to propose but I won’t force you into it.”

I’m intrigued. “Okay.”

“The capital just wants a good show. It’s just entertainment to them, as sick as it is. If we give them a romance- a tragic love story about two tributes in love forced into the arena- they will fight for us. They’ll want us to win.”

“… star crossed lovers?” I whisper. I understand the intrigue behind his idea. He nods.

“I won’t make you do anything. Say the word and I’ll drop the subject and it’ll be like it never happened.”

“No,” I say suddenly. Maybe if we do this we can both go back home, and I can keep the boy with the soft brown eyes. “I want to do this. I trust you.”

He nods and grips my hand. “Let’s see how good an actress you are, then.” And then Joyce enters.

Let the 74th Annual Hunger Games begin.

~~~~~~~

@astralshipper @rosieshipper @hyperionshipping @yeehawselfshipping @letsgofoletsgo @tsundere-selfship @callsign-revenge

[brokenbutunbowed]

We've already gotten over half a foot of heavy wet snow the last few days, and every single one of our birds pens has been damaged.

The inner dividing walls of the pheasant pens caved in, and my yellow golden rooster was crushed to death.

The chicken and duck pen (which are next to each other and use the same fencing/ roof netting) had a complete failure of their netting and the netting actually ripped off the walls and collapse into the pens. Had to lock up the chickens in their coop and move the ducks over to the second duck pen.

The turkey pen was still partly under construction, but the netting on one side collapsed so much it was on the ground and the t-posts holding the doorframe caved in and is leaning at a 45 degree angle. It took so long to clear the snow off the net yesterday that I kept having to take breaks to lay face down in the snow because I thought I was gonna black out. Got the turkeys safely locked in their coop as well for safety.

All that to say.... we have another 10-15 inches in the forecast for tomorrow morning through Saturday and I'm legit terrified of what's going to happen. It's already difficult navigating the yard and I know the nets are all gonna cave in again if I'm not out there constantly clearing them off (they never used to be this bad, I'm not sure why they do this so much now but I'm already brainstorming modifications to add to the pens in the spring to prevent this stuff from happening next year). It's supposedly going to start snowing at like 9 or 10am and I'll be off work at 7am, so hopefully I don't have to drive in it. Might have to switch my sleep around and stay up throughout the day is I can so I can keep an eye on everything.

If work actually cares about us, they'll at least call off first and second shift tomorrow. I doubt we'll get called off because work starts in 2.5 hours for us and we'll hopefully be done before the storm, but still.... if I was still on first shift I'd be using my one singular allowed unpaid sick day to call in tomorrow.

[greenmansgrove]

On the Vernal Equinox earlier this week I visited a few different parks. Didn’t spend much time at any of ‘em bevause I forgot my snow shoes/ice cleats, but it was nice to scout a few different places for when the weather warms up.

First I visited Lone Lake Park and Shady Oak Lake Cemetery. The trails were too icy to get far and snow still too deep to wade among the gravestones, but I did spy a bald eagle being harassed by some corvids from the road.

Next I drove out to Dean’s Lake in Shakopee, which is depressingly under development, but the lake seems to be their effort at some kind of conservation. I wanted to visit here because supposedly there are elderberry bushes I’d like to forage come fall, as Falling Fruit tells me. I’m still new to plant identification, and I’m definitely unskilled at it during the winter, but I think I found the bushes. The only clue was the bark and the red stems where berries had been picked off (pictured below). Hopefully in June they’ll be in bloom and I’ll be able to confirm my ID. I also learned that the local quaking aspen are already in bloom. Their flowers aren’t petalled and look more like pussy willow. I suppose their being wind pollinated makes it just fine for them to bloom while it’s still cold. They put out their blossoms before leaves.

Lastly, as the sun was setting, I visited Newell park, where my oak tree friend resides. I didn’t get to visit at Imbolc or since because of the snow, work, and a recent illness, but I took some dried peanuts with me to leave as offering for the squirrels. I greeted my tree friend and felt a general air of familiarity and rejoicing. I’m looking forward to seeing them bloom as the weather warms up. Around my tree, the ground was already thawing, though I suppose that’s from the ice melting and falling to the ground around the trunk. Peanuts pictured on the right.

I’ve almost reached a year since I started my practice, and so I’m looking forward to being able to watch the changes in seasons with even greater awareness, thanks to the experience gained thus far. The local RDNA equinox ritual is on Saturday, and I’m looking forward to seeing folks to celebrate the arrival of the light half.

[newstfionline]

Saturday, March 18, 2023

Snow is as high as ski lifts in California as drought abates (Washington Post) The snow just keeps piling up in California, so much so that some ski lifts are buried as the record snowpack erases drought concerns for much of the state. Topping the incredible snow totals across the Sierra Nevada is Mammoth Mountain, with 618 inches at its lodge and 780 inches at its summit, enough to almost bury entire houses. “It’s truly an incredible and historic winter here,” said Justin Romano, communications coordinator for Mammoth Mountain Ski Area. “We are having our second-biggest winter on record and chasing down the snowiest on record. The town is buried.” The most snow on record for Mammoth, at its lodge, is 668.5 inches in 2010-2011. In addition to Mammoth Mountain, nine other California ski resorts are reporting more than 600 inches of snow for the season. Snowpack across the Sierra Nevada is now 180 to 271 percent of the seasonal average and on pace to be the highest or second-highest on record by April 1, when the snowpack typical reaches its peak.

America’s bad bet on expanding legal sports gambling (Vox) The United States is in the midst of a sports gambling boom, and it may be a generational policy mistake. Based on the research we have, the harm such widespread adoption has caused is not trivial. With the United States’s boom so recent and therefore data somewhat sparse, the United Kingdom is a useful comparison. It has had a legalized and regulated system for over 15 years, one that includes not just sports but casino gambling. An extensive report by Bloomberg cataloged the harms since legalization: Sixty percent of industry profits come from the top 5 percent of users; the industry, supposedly regulated, has an estimated 36,000 children addicted to it; the government estimates 8 percent of suicides are gambling related. In 2016, the situation was already so bad that the co-founder of Paddy Power, an industry leader, resigned from the company’s board while “fighting back tears” because he believed he was complicit in an immoral industry, Bloomberg reported. Since then, the situation has only gotten worse.

Foreign policy of Brazil’s Lula takes shape, irking the West (AP) Brazil’s new President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva has so far shown little concern about defying consensus in the West on foreign policy. In recent weeks, Lula’s Brazil sent a delegation to Venezuela, refused to sign a UN resolution condemning Nicaragua’s human rights abuses, allowed Iranian warships to dock in Rio de Janeiro and flatly refused to send weapons to Ukraine, at war with Russia. These decisions have raised eyebrows in the U.S. and Europe, but experts said Lula is reactivating Brazil’s decades-old principle of non-alignment to carve out a policy that best safeguards its interests in an increasingly multi-polar world. Brazil’s foreign policy is based on its 1988 constitution, which establishes non-intervention, self-determination, international cooperation and the peaceful settlement of conflicts as guiding principles. That involves “talking to all states at all times without making moral judgements, while respecting certain red lines,” said Feliciano Guimarães, a political scientist at the think tank Brazilian Center for International Relations. Lula’s red lines are not yet clear, he added.

The Paris garbage crisis (Les Echos/France) The strike of garbage collectors can be felt in many cities across France, but it is particularly impressive in the capital, Paris. After just one week, the streets have been invaded by mountains of trash, already estimated at more than 5,000 tonnes. On some sidewalks, barricades of trash in torn-open bags have piled up above head height. In narrow alleys, the smell is unbearable. Rats are already enjoying an unexpected feast. As we slalom through banana peels, dog food and leftover blanquette, it’s worth asking why garbage collectors hold so much power over our lives. We have become dependent, unable to manage our own waste. An average French person produces almost 600 kilograms (1,322 lbs) of waste per year—a figure that is only increasing. Most of our current problem is organic waste, which makes up a third of our trash, according to Zero Waste France. We have a simple solution at our disposal: composting. There is no reason to truck our potato peels dozens of kilometers to be incinerated. We could simply let them decompose. Wait a year and the waste becomes an excellent soil conditioner. In the city, composting requires some collective organization, but nothing complicated in comparison to the dizzying logistics of daily garbage collection. Public parks and shared vegetable gardens are already used for this purpose. Other cities have added composting facilities in some neighborhoods. And of course, collection of compost is also possible.

On Italy’s Coast, Empathy Mixes With Frustration After Migrant Tragedy (NYT) More than two weeks after a ship broke apart just off the Calabrian coast, killing 86 onboard, including more than 30 children under the age of 12, European officials said, Italy is still locked in a furious debate about who is responsible for the tragedy. Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni, who came to power talking about a “naval blockade” against migrant ships and who has warned against “replacement” by migrants, has vehemently deflected blame, arguing that Europe needs to do more to help Italy with the migrant issue and that the best way to save lives is to crack down on human traffickers. The Italian Parliament and news media are filled with polemics about how to stop, or welcome, the tens of thousands of migrants expected to arrive in coming months and about what needs to be done to prevent another calamity at sea. And the migrants keep coming. On Sunday, 30 more died after a boat capsized about 100 miles off the Libyan coast. But in this region of Italy, a poverty-stricken and sparsely populated part of the Calabrian seaside, there is less frustration than compassion. “These are human beings,” said Antonio Sghirrapi, 53, owner of a food stand in the city’s market. “We have seen them coming for decades, and they are people like us, they should be saved at sea.”

International court issues war crimes warrant for Putin (AP) The International Criminal Court said Friday that it has issued an arrest warrant for Russian President Vladimir Putin for war crimes, accusing him of personal responsibility for the abductions of children from Ukraine. It was the first time the global court has issued a warrant against a leader of one of the five permanent members of the U.N. Security Council. The ICC said in a statement that Putin “is allegedly responsible for the war crime of unlawful deportation of (children) and that of unlawful transfer of (children) from occupied areas of Ukraine to the Russian Federation.” The move was immediately dismissed by Moscow—and welcomed by Ukraine as a major breakthrough. Its practical implications, however, could be limited as the chances of Putin facing trial at the ICC are highly unlikely. But the moral condemnation will likely stain the Russian leader for the rest of his life—and in the more immediate future whenever he seeks to attend an international summit in a nation bound to arrest him.

China’s Xi will make a state visit to Russia on Monday (Washington Post) China’s President Xi Jinping will travel to Moscow and meet with his Russian counterpart Vladimir Putin next week. According to the Kremlin, Xi’s state visit will take place from March 20-22. While China has maintained that it is neutral in the Ukraine war, it has offered diplomatic support for Russia and accused Washington of turning the conflict into a “proxy” war. Before the trip was confirmed, the Wall Street Journal reported that Xi was expected to have a phone call with Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky following any planned trip to Russia, in what would be their first conversation since the conflict began.

As Asian threats rise, Japan and South Korea hold first summit in 12 years (Washington Post) Two of the United States’ most important allies in Asia took cautious steps on Thursday to repair their years-long rocky relationship when the leaders of Japan and South Korea met in Tokyo for their first summit in 12 years. Japanese Prime Minister Fumio Kishida greeted South Korean President Yoon Suk Yeol with the full fanfare of a diplomatic welcome at the prime minister’s official residence. After a meeting, the two went to dinner with their wives—two dinners, in fact, to bond over one of Yoon’s favorite Japanese dishes: omurice, or fried rice topped with an omelet. The trip was aimed at demonstrating that the two countries want to work more closely with each other and the United States to counter looming geopolitical threats of China’s economic and military rise and North Korea’s nuclear ambitions. But it remains to be seen whether they can move past the thorny issues that stem from Japan’s colonial rule of the Korean Peninsula from 1910 to 1945. “It was a big step toward normalizing Japan-Korea relations,” Kishida said after their meeting, adding that he wanted to open a “new chapter.”

20 years after US invasion, young Iraqis see signs of hope (AP) On the banks of the Tigris River one recent evening, young Iraqi men and women in jeans and sneakers danced with joyous abandon to a local rap star as a vermillion sun set behind them. It’s a world away from the terror that followed the U.S. invasion 20 years ago. Iraq ‘s capital today is throbbing with life and a sense of renewal, its residents enjoying a rare, peaceful interlude in a painful modern history. Today, half of Iraq’s population of 40 million isn’t old enough to remember life under Saddam or much about the U.S. invasion. In dozens of recent interviews from Baghdad to Fallujah, young Iraqis deplored the loss of stability that followed Saddam’s downfall—but they said the war is in the past, and many were hopeful about nascent freedoms and opportunities to pursue their dreams. Speaking to younger Iraqis, one senses a generation ready to turn a page.

Iranians facing economic crisis find little New Year’s cheer (AP) Iran’s bazaars are packed ahead of the Persian New Year next week, but there’s little holiday cheer as customers survey the soaring prices of meat and holiday treats, wondering if they can afford either. Others are there to sell goods on the sidewalks to make ends meet. Crippling Western sanctions, on top of decades of economic mismanagement, have plunged the country into a severe crisis. Iran’s currency, the rial, recently dropped to a record low, essentially wiping out people’s life savings and making even some basic goods unaffordable. Months of anti-government protests failed to unseat the ruling clerics and prompted a violent crackdown that further dashed hopes of any return to the 2015 nuclear deal with world powers, which lifted sanctions in exchange for restrictions on Iran’s nuclear program. As they bid farewell to a trying year, Iranians have little expectation that the next will be better.

As settler violence surges, Palestinians say they have nowhere to turn (Washington Post) More than two weeks after Israeli settlers rampaged through Palestinian villages and towns, killing one man and torching dozens of homes and businesses, residents are wondering when justice will come, and who will deliver it. They point to delays in the Israeli police investigation into the killing of 37-year-old Sameh Aqtash, who was shot dead as he and his relatives tried to protect their village of Zatara. And families and rights groups say the Israeli military has still not answered key questions about its role on Feb. 26, and why it failed to contain the violence, which was sparked by the killing of two Israeli brothers in nearby Huwara. The U.S. State Department has called for Israel to hold the perpetrators to account. But because the attacks took place in areas of the occupied West Bank outside the jurisdiction of Palestinian security, the pursuit of accountability now rests with the same Israeli security apparatus accused of failing to intervene that night. Facing increasing attacks from vigilante settlers, Palestinian families here say they have no one to protect them. In a conflict with the struggle over land at its heart, some are wrestling with agonizing decisions over whether to leave their homes, to areas farther away from settlements. “If the judge is your enemy, what’s he going to do for you?” said Ayman, the cousin of the man killed that night.

[pheedraws]

i've been reading through the world of cyberpunk 2077 again in an attempt to scrape together some writing inspo and man, i’m just so full of love for this corrupt disaster of a city <3

[kikuism]

the thought of going to work tomorrow is making me break into hives because on wednesday my boss called me and snapped at me over the phone for something that was supposedly my fault even though the thing she was going on about was something i wasn't even aware of in the first place. so i work at this learning center and i wasn't able to make it on wednesday because of the snow storm, so all i did was take my online class with one student like usual.

ok so this student for the last three months hasn't been sending me her writing homework and i emailed her mother about this. her mother responded and i emailed her back and we discussed what the problem might be and how we could help her out. she also said she's running late because the buses have been delayed because of the storm so she's going to come at 4:15. so i keep waiting and waiting, been waiting since 3:30.

so it's 4:50 and she still hasn't showed up. i message my boss about it. then i get an email from my student, a test email, because she told me she'd been having some issues with her email and that's why she hasn't been able to send me her writing. i respond saying that i got it, and i remind her to join the class. so technically she is online but she hasn't joined the meeting. now it's 5 and she still hasn't shown up. my boss messages me saying to just leave. so i leave. the class was supposed to end at 5:15 so i don't know what we would have accomplished if she had joined at this point anyway.

at 6 i get a call from my boss and she's livid. apparently the student's mother just yelled at her over the phone and sent her a lengthy paragraph about how she's resigning her daughter from the learning center. at this point i'm shaking bc i was not expecting any of this, i'm extremely upset and confused. my boss was going on about how i shouldn't have been corresponding with the parent because 'you don't know how to handle them, you don't know their background, from now on you will not talk to any parents' as if i knew that??? i had no idea i wasn't supposed to talk to the parents???? my boss was the one who gave me the mother's email in the first place, she could have told me then and there to forward her any correspondence instead of replying to her myself. she goes on about how she's the middle ground between the instructors and the parents and 'your job is just to teach'. ok. so then i ask her what the mother was yelling about and this is the part i don't understand, she said something like 'why was the instructor waiting all the way till 5 o clock if my daughter hadn't come online'. i don't know what this means. anyway. my boss just kept going on and on about how she had no idea i was in correspondence with the mother and how i shouldn't have done that. as if i knew. i only had good intentions and wanted to help out her daughter.

anyway she said we're going to talk in detail on saturday and my anxiety is going through the roof. i genuinely don't understand what i did wrong and the thought of conversing with my boss in person is making me so scared, this is my first ever job too, i feel like i'm just going to break down in front of her.