#its SCARY. and flattering but my GOD

[crabussy]

i swear like every post of yours i see is a hit. youve got a talent for this

somepony save me

[toytulini]

i dont want to give in to Modern Shapewear but i really hate when im trying to have a Fun Outfit and theres fucking Distinct Lines from various under wear bands (bra, undies, maybe a pair of tights?) all at separate points? that are impossible to hide bc the outer wear is fucking form fitting spandex

[charmercharm3r]

Make Love, Not Porn

Play Time!

HHJ

Masterlist, Series Masterlist

18+ content — minors, do not interact.

wc: 3.8k

Synopsis: You crave a life of normalcy, he craves you. And he'd do anything to keep you, even if you're for the world to see.

warnings: barista!hyunjin x cam girl!reader, smut, explicit sexual content, masturbation (m, f), he's a little obsessed, easing into the smuttier smut if that's even a thing.

Live : Play Time!

Next Scheduled Broadcast : Heat Signature

☆ﾟ

Rule number one; everybody is temporary.

There is no love in this industry, no trust, no friends, only coworkers that all want the same thing. Sometimes you work with them more than once, other times– most times, it’s a one-and-done deal.

They never want to stay anyways, you learned that lesson the hard way. It’s why you set up such a tough wall to break through, there’s no point in befriending anyone on your side of the pond.

It’s scary, really, how quickly you can be moaning someone’s name, kissing them like you need them to breathe, touching and feeling them as intimately as someone who truly was in love. Then as soon as the livestream ends, you can’t remember what their lips feel like and everything smells like latex and sweat. You offer them some water, snacks, a shower. They usually decline. Minutes later, your front door is shutting and you’re alone once again.

No one ever intends on getting into porn, you don’t even remember the details on how you ended up here. Your follower count had risen overnight and before you knew it, that one video had gotten you more money in a week than a month’s worth of minimum wage ever did. The humiliation was nonexistent considering you hadn’t even posted yourself naked that first time, if anything you were excited to post again. Who knew a video of you just sitting in a chair, playing with yourself under your skirt with your knees pressed closed would take off so rapidly. That thirty second video changed your life.

– fuck, who is this?? are they new??

– thats so hot. face reveal?

– show us your tits

– god i wanna fuck u so bad

– suck my dick pls

Those comments didn’t bother you, it was a little flattering if you were being honest with yourself. People wanted you, they don’t even know your real name, have never seen your face or what you look like in the sunlight. They don’t know you and yet, you’re everything to them, so much so that they pay you for your time, and body. They fill your wallet just for you to read their comment out loud, attention whores for you. And you love it. For some reason, their praise is much more fulfilling than anyone you've guested on your livestreams.

Recently, though, you’ve stopped bringing people on, not much to your viewer’s disapproval. There was more interaction and less vulgarity, like they wanted you to actually speak to them rather than just stuff your pussy with whatever new dildo you’d been gifted in your PO box.

You hadn’t planned on having such a personal stream today, you honestly just wanted the relief and thought your viewers would have a good time. But for some reason, the comments were less about getting you to take your clothes off and more about why your voice was shaking.

“It’s okay, I’m okay. Really!” Even you could hear the subtle octave change. “If you wanted me to cry, you could’ve just said please. You know I’ll do anything for you.” 

Perhaps the forced sultriness of your voice worked its charm, the comments quickly switched back to their normal obscenities once you started to unbutton your top. Truthfully, you preferred when they asked you to get naked, it was a lot easier to do than to admit what it was you were really lacking. Honest companionship is the rarest thing.

Rule number two: no identifying features.

Even if you weren’t ashamed, your job is still taboo. No one and everyone knew what it was you did. Your best friend helped you pick lingerie and background mood lighting, your parents thought you were an office worker. Strangers have seen your most private parts, you only allow your grandma to give you a kiss on the cheek during Christmas. Safe to say your occupation was strictly need-to-know.

You’re glad you started live streaming before deciding to get any tattoos, running the risk of someone stopping you in the middle of the street was the most terrifying thing you could imagine happening. Naturally, you avoided getting anything at all once your streams started to really take off.

There was nothing you wore to accessorize unless a patron paid for it in advance, that was always done a week before streams and the contact with the patron was never more than a simple google form and an email from your business account to confirm. Other than that, you were a blank canvas, just a body with a voice that left more to the imagination than you would think. If your viewers were happy, you were happy.

“What do you think of my new nail color? A special someone picked it out for me,” you held out your hands to display the pretty shine, twiddling your fingers. The comments went crazy, “no, no, not anyone like that, c’mon! You know you’re my number one. But I think you should all give lovely user callingherdaddy a thank you for picking it out. Thank you, sir.”

You took the polish off the next morning.

Rule number three: be consistent.

Nothing kills a steady income more than ghosting the ones that put the money in your pocket. You stuck to a strict schedule of three streams every week and frequent posts on your socials. The stuff you posted on your social media wasn’t even related to your work on camming, but it doesn’t hurt when they leave a couple nice comments. 

With a schedule and job like yours, you need a little bit of normalcy. Self employed, you don’t have a real routine when you aren’t streaming. It was starting to make you feel lazy, a bit lethargic, and overall unmotivated.

It wasn’t until recently did you decide to start doing normal people things, like waking up at 7 a.m., doing a mini work out, grocery shopping in the morning, even getting yourself a coffee from the shop near your house as a treat. Doing this was nice, you felt good, your head was clearer. Hell, you even got excited when it came time to do your cams because you felt so full of energy.

You had only been to the coffee shop once or twice before, but to get yourself to keep the routine, you told yourself you’d go every day for the next two weeks. Afterall, it only takes 21 days to form a habit.

It was packed, as usual for a morning weekday. There were only about six baristas working, all scurrying about the bar to get through the morning rush. You liked watching them, mindlessly completing drinks in such a way that made you a little jealous. Most of them seemed your age, obviously you knew that they couldn’t have all had perfect lives, but at least this part of their day was something they could openly complain about.

Were you really jealous? Of normal people? You had to be insane.

Shaking your head, you walked further into the shop and waited in line. You thought nothing of it, placing your order, “iced chai with three blonde shots, please,” and handed the barista the card, “thank you.”

You barely looked up at him, only when he held onto your card a little longer as you tried to take it back did you make eye contact. A little awkward, the barista was staring at you with wide eyes. He was handsome, too handsome to be working behind the counter. Long black hair framed his face nicely, pretty plump lips, and an endearing little mole under his eye that made his siren stare only slightly less intimidating. Yeah, handsome.

He didn’t look away even after he let you take your card back.

“S– sorry. You look like–”

“It’s okay. Thanks again.” You hurried away as fast as you could. He couldn’t have known who you were, right? Not a chance, you have never shown your face. You were wearing too many clothes for any particular body part to be recognizable. It’s just a coincidence.

Either way, the minor interaction with the barista scared you into hiding again, forgetting going out for anything else you had planned and deciding to hole away at home.

You had a livestream to do later anyways, focus on that. There were a few hours left for you to kill before turning on the camera, now would be as good a time as any to set up.

It wasn’t much that you did, mostly just thinking of what it was you thought viewers would like to see for the day. An hour before the scheduled stream, you set up a waiting room on the website that hinted at what the day’s theme would be. Today you thought you’d go a little easy on the eyes; “live soon, hardcandysweetheart: play time! <3”

A typical stream would start off soft, greeting viewers like any other meeting. You’d ask how their day was, if there was anything in particular they wanted to do or talk about, some answered genuinely while others urged you to strip. You liked the ones that asked you how your day was, too, and enjoyed sharing your thoughts with them. Though, it was no secret what everyone was here for, even if sometimes– just sometimes, you liked what came before taking off your clothes more than anything.

“I have a few things in mind for play time today, I’d like to hear what you guys think. Would you prefer this,” in your hand, you held up your favorite vibrator, big and baby pink. “Or this?” in the other, a new grinder that resembled the shape of a tentacle with the sucker-side up.

Comment section didn’t slow down as soon as you showed the second toy. “I thought you might like this one. I got it just for you! I’m excited to try it out with you.”

– im so fucking hard

– i wanna see ur pussy

– thats so nice, ur sweet

“Slow down! Haha, we’re gonna take our time,” you laughed away the weird feeling in your chest as you read the fleeing comments. “You’re so impatient today, lovely. Did you have a hard day? I know I did,” you slowly peeled down the blouse you wore, letting it hang off your shoulders to expose your bare shoulders. It seemed redundant to wear a bra, but you kept the shirt covering your breasts for dramatic effect, hard nipples peaking through.

“I just wanna take it a little more… gentler, if that’s alright.” The camera was angled to cut off at your neck to avoid showing your face, but you bit your lip anyways as you held up the grinder. “It’s a little out of my comfort zone, honestly. I’ve never told you about this fantasy before.” You ran your finger down the rubber center, feeling the many little suction cups bend.

You giggled as you came to the swirled tip of the tentacle, playing with the way it curled and how pliable it was. “When I ordered this, they let me choose the color. I think pink suits me, don’t you? But I also thought, maybe blue? Or black… but then it would be too hard for you to see, right?”

As you spoke, you laid the grinder between your legs but not quite touching it. With two fingers, you stroked it the same way you would your own pussy. Your other free hand was doing just that right behind the toy and beneath the length of your shirt, feeling your wetness building up with your hand down your panties. “Oh my, just talking to you– my underwear is soaked!” The giggle that left your lips was genuine, you didn’t expect to work yourself up so quickly.

You stole your fingers from your cunt and showed it to the camera, spreading them to let your viewers see the slick coating shine in the soft lighting. “Heh, told ya I was excited. You make me like this.”

When you started to really get going it was hard to pay attention to the comments, you tended to get a little lost until you finally came. Like now, you brought the toy closer to your core, lightly lifting yourself to sit on it. As soon as you did, you let out a whimper.

Hyunjin had never felt so embarrassed in his life. He doesn’t even know why, he couldn’t have been sure of anything.

Except he was. He was 100% sure, plus another 10% for good measure. He hadn’t even known about the site for long, you were just his favorite. He’d found hardcandysweetheart and never bothered to look anywhere else.

You were just another customer at first, a pretty one that caught his attention. He noticed you in line and had every intention of flirting and possibly asking for you to sign up for the rewards program with them just so he could use that as an excuse to get your number. Then you spoke.

All you fucking did was speak. “Please,” and “thank you,” and Hyunjin fucking crumbled.

Jesus, he must have looked like an idiot. He knows he did, but he was star struck. Fanboying, red in the face with embarrassment, about to fold at the knees, and hard as a fucking rock all at the same time. He had to excuse himself to the restroom as soon as you left just to get his boner to go away.

If it really was you– and he hoped to god it wasn’t– he’ll never forget such a pretty face.

Which is why he turned on notifications for your stream. He knew your schedule by heart but he needed to be sure that it was your voice he heard. As soon as he got home from his shift, clothes came off and he was sat in bed with his laptop nearby, just waiting for the ping notification from you.

God, it was you. As soon as he heard you through his headphones, it confirmed what he already knew.

What a kind voice, supple, soft, he could listen to you for hours– he has listened to you for hours. Sometimes he wished you could do live streams of just you talking, you never even had to take your clothes off. Now that he knew what you looked like, Hyunjin’s heartbeat faster than it ever did when you made conversation.

It was the way you did, as though you were speaking to him and only him. The image he created of you in his head looked like it was thought up by a child in comparison to seeing you in real life. He could put a face to the voice now, he wasn’t even thinking about your body. Just your voice.

“You make me like this,” you said in almost a whisper, tone cracking just a little the more you sat on the toy.

Hyunjin couldn’t help but palm at himself, not entirely stroking but moving at the same pace. This was a team effort, in his mind. You made him crazy, as he did to you. That was his fantasy. You always spoke with so much love in your voice, as though you truly cared for him and it got him harder than any other kind of porn ever could.

Was that really all it took? Was he that pathetic? Someone who didn’t even know who he was, talking to an ocean of people that all saw the same thing he did, and suddenly it’s the only thing that can make him cum.

He can’t even complain now, he’s seen you. That’s enough spank bank to last him a lifetime if you ever suddenly decided to stop camming. Shit– he hopes he didn’t just manifest that into existence.

The white button up top draped in front of your cunt to hide away from view. That’s alright, you said you were taking it slow today. Your hips slowly pushed forward and back, hands gripping tightly at the armrests of your uncomfortable looking desk chair. Hyunjin thought it was kind of cute how you would still cam in the same seat as you did when he found your first video. 

His laptop on his abdomen concealed the view of his cock leaking, but the way you were sat on screen, he could envision it was him you were sitting on instead. That’s exactly what he imagined as you rocked faster into the toy, lifting your shirt and balling it in your fist to show that your wetness had spread to the front of your panties. Hyunjin didn’t even mind that the bold pink tentacle blocking a bit of the view, you were getting so into it that he hardly noticed anymore.

Hyunjin fumbled to find his dick, slowly beginning to squeeze the head as you turned to shorter and quicker ruts towards the front of the toy where the tentacle curled up. You moaned loudly, making him do so as well in return. “Fuck, I ruined this pair, didn’t I?”

Your cute laugh had Hyunjin breaking out into a smirk, “that’s okay,” he whispered to no one but himself.

“I should take it off but,” you rolled your hips again with a whine, “I kinda want you to work for it.”

The tips in the corner of the page were pinging like crazy as soon as you said that. He himself tapped the button rapidly and paid no mind to how his account balance shot down.

“C’mon now, don’t be shy. It’s just one little word that I wanna hear. I’ll say it first, if that makes you feel better.” The speed of your hips picked up a little, in turn Hyunjin let his fist slowly work up and down, no faster than you, of course.

“Please. Please, is the word I’m looking for, lovely. Say it, just once.”

Fuck, he couldn’t help speeding up just a little. He loved the way you said it, even more the way you commanded him to say it as well. “Please,” the whimper came out breathy and uneven as the precum lubricated his cock more.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Hyunjin shook his head, no. 

“No, it wasn’t. Look what happens when you ask nicely,” you stood from your seat just to pull off the flimsy fabric, sitting fully back down on the toy and holding up the soaked pair with another chuckle. “You get nice things.”

Hyunjin could hear how wet you really were now, every lewd sound that came from you rubbing yourself back and forth on the grinder. You still didn’t let him– them– see you fully. He wasn’t even sure if you’d expose yourself at all this stream. Still, his fist picked up speed as you did, taking in every grunt you let out when you’d hit a particularly good spot. Hyunjin kept his eyes on you the whole time, memorizing the way you moved, what angle made you tick.

“C’mon lovely, I know you can do better than that.”

You were referring to the tip counter, but Hyunjin took it as he can do better than that. His other hand reached around the laptop, down to cup his balls as he worked his cock faster, occasionally running his fingers over the head for a break in stimulation. Somehow he managed to stop touching himself for a split second to rapid fire extra tips when they slowed down.

“Oh, someone wants a little extra attention today. What do I call you, lovely?” Hyunjin wasn’t sure if you were speaking to him, though he hoped and typed a nickname anyways. “Baby? That’s cute. Thank you, baby, you’re so sweet.”

His hand instantly returned to his dick, not caring about the speed anymore, instead wanting to cum to the sound of your voice. He quickly tapped the tip button a few more times and you giggled, “baby, you’re spoiling me. Here, since you’re being so nice,” you lifted the hem of your shirt to put your bare cunt on display, seemingly tucking the end of it into your mouth.

Hyunjin could see it so clearly, your pretty lips drooling onto the fabric, biting it to contain the moans that wanted to slip past. Fuck, he was going insane, wet, slick noises from his animalistic fisting on his cock almost surpassing the volume of your voice in his headphones. 

He just watched now, listened intently to how good you were making yourself feel and it made his body light a fire. You were clearly getting closer as well, forgetting the dirty talk and humping away at the toy with little to no regard for who was watching. Hyunjin loved this side of you the most, when you couldn’t think of anything other than the impending pleasure. He could imagine your eyes rolling back, the furrow in your brow and beads of sweat dripping down your temples as you came nearer to falling over the edge. Your hands moved to grip the edge of the seat, aiding in pushing your body forward and back harder against the grinder and Hyunjin was jerking himself with a hotter fervor. Your muffled cries echoed in his head– he was making you feel like this, he was the one you were using to please yourself, he was the one you thought of as you came all over his cock.

Hyunjin suddenly held his breath and let his release take over his body, squeezing and pumping the tip of his cock as he spurt his seed all over his stomach and back of his computer. By the time he’d come to, opened his eyes, and regained his breath, you were slumped back in your chair and panting heavily. He missed your grand finale, but that was okay with him, you came at the same time. Even in post nut clarity, he wanted to hear your voice. More than that, he wanted to hold you, run his fingers through your hair, kiss you until you were breathless all over again.

Hyunjin’s shaky hand found the tip button again and tapped.

“Thank you, baby.” He smiled.

You groaned and found the strength to steal the toy from your aching cunt, holding it up for the camera to see it glistening with your essence. Laughing, “this was fun, wasn’t it? I enjoyed myself, I might have to buy more of these.” You tossed it onto the desk and suddenly seemed shy, tugging your shirt as far down as you could without exposing more skin. “Until next time, lovely. I’ll miss you.” You waved your dainty fingers at the camera, doing your signature sign off, and the screen went black.

Hyunjin’s head fell back into his pillows, staring at the ceiling trying to understand all the emotions he just rushed through. 

He couldn’t compute them even if he tried. All he knew was that he was excited to go to work tomorrow morning, hoping that whatever god heard his plea, begging that you’ll come in.

When he went to shut his laptop, his fingers smeared the warm mess that was slowly dripping. “Fuck— ew,” and he hurried to clean up, alone once again.

☆ﾟ

tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @hamburgers101 @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @alexis-reads-fics @linaliskz @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @goblinracha @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts @noellllslut

[romanticintheory]

on my knees BEGGING for more price and civilian!reader. i just read it and i can’t stop thinking about all the cute itty bitty interactions- their date, their convos, maybe him meeting her surprisingly scary dog (currently in love thinking about COD men and K9s yknow?).

Like if there’s not a single supporter for this, i’m dead in a ditch somewhere

what it's like dating john price as a civilian.

john price x gn!reader

part 1

more fluff, more domesticity, me being down bad

a/n: KSAHDASDKJ im so glad u love them as much as i do!! hope this does them justice for u <3

-

the date went really well, thankfully. he showed up at your place ready to pick you up with the bouquet of flowers he knew you deserved. call him old-fashioned, but he was adamant on making sure you didn't have to lift a finger for anything.

hell, he even asked you why you were standing out there in the cold by yourself, saying, "i could have come to your door so you didn't have to freeze all the way out here, sweetheart!"

he held out his hand for you to take as he guided you down the stairs, opened your side of the door for the car, and always walked with you on the side closest to the street.

the movie was a cute action comedy. it was even funnier with john because he'd sometimes pipe up at the action sequences talking about how unrealistic some scenes were.

when you told john that the main character's actor, a built, older-looking man, was used to be your celebrity crush in high school, he couldn't help but let a chuckle rumble in his throat and ask, "got a type then, love?"

"yeah, probably do," you admitted shamelessly.

the dinner was just as nice as the movie: he took you out to a nice restaurant and hung onto every word you spoke. likewise, you couldn't take your eyes off him whenever he told you stories about him and his boys.

he wouldn't tell you stories about him doing his job, mostly because he didn't want to disturb you with what he's had to do. he did, however, happily tell you stories about the ridiculous things he's seen his task force get up to.

"they sound like a handful," you said warmly, "you sure they're not your kids?"

"no, but they certainly sound like it," he leaned just a little bit closer to hear you better over the chatter of the restaurant.

"i get that. i've got a handful at home, too." you paused to take a sip of your drink. "a little puppy."

"really? what's its name?"

when he takes you back home, he wordlessly walks you back to your door.

"would you like to meet beau, john?" you ask, hand hovering over the door you unlocked.

he opens his mouth to speak but gets interrupted by the sound of scratching and a dog panting on the other side of the door.

"well, only if he's okay with meeting me."

when you open the door, john is surprised to see a full-grown rottweiler launching at him at full speed. for a second, he saw his life flashing before his eyes before he realized the wagging of beau's tail.

"oh my god, i'm so sorry!" you call out immediately, "he's usually more polite around strangers. beau- beau get down!"

john only laughs at your panic and took your dog's friendliness as a sign to pet him. "'s alright, love. i trust you enough to know you wouldn't put me in harm's way."

he takes in beau's stature. from the looks of his larger-than-average size, he might be a guard dog for you. or maybe you just wanted company and decided to hone in on his scariness and bulk by adding that spiked collar.

"so, a puppy, huh?" he points outed humorously, locking eyes with you after realizing that your canine was, in fact, fully grown.

"hey, he's still a puppy to me!" you interject, kneeling down beside john's crouched figure to also show the rottweiler some affection.

"i see," he nods thoughtfully, turning his attention back to beau. "you're just as gorgeous as your owner, huh?"

your face is on fire again. "you flatter me, john."

"how does the saying go? it's not flattery if it's true?" he stands up much to the disappointment of beau and to take a step closer to you.

"you're too kind."

"jus' trying to treat you like how you deserve."

it's like he's trying to light you aflame on purpose. your embarrassment grows so much you have to cover the smile on your face with your hand. once your face has cooled down, you take a deep breath and let your hand fall down back to your side.

"thank you for tonight," you say quietly. "i had a really good time."

"glad to hear," he replies. "'m also happy to see beau likes me, too."

"well, we both have that in common, i guess."

"oh, who's doing the flattery, now?" john says playfully, his hands on his hips as you laugh softly at him.

"still you!" you insist.

"hm. maybe next time we can figure it out, yeah?" he proposes, a hopeful glint in his eye.

"next time? you already ready for a second date, price?"

oh, he was ready for more, but he didn't think you were ready to hear that.

"unless you're not," he tells you slowly, afraid of pressuring you into saying yes already.

sensing his worry, you reassure him with, "how could i not be?"

he relaxes at your admission and leans forward to give you a kiss on the cheek. "i've got your number. next week sound fine to you?"

"of course. whatever you like, soldier," you nodded, the lingering feeling of his lips on your cheek leaving a tingling sensation. if you were just a bit more confident, you would have kissed him then and there.

"i'll see you then, love."

he bends down to give beau a well-deserved goodbye pet before turning to leave, looking you in the eyes one last time before leaving for home.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Hades x AFAB!Reader || Drabble

HELLL YES I'M USING THIS GIF.

Plot: So apparently your hot new God lover is not comfortable with the idea of using his cock on you (Apparently his cum is similar to something called... 🔥hot glue??🔥 Which does NOT sound good for your insides- ), so he improvises.

Warnings: Smut!! And, I hate this word but its the word, so- Dildo use. *sigh* 🤦‍♀️ (This word for me is what moist is for Lily Aldrin in HIMYM) Also monsterfucker themes, small gagging mention, Hades drawing out your orgasm for his own sake. Starts out gentle, gets rough.

Tagging: @disney-android-foundation , @marinerainbow , and @ryantryan6969 . I forgot to tag again! I'm so sorry! But here we go, half an hour later XD I hope you're in a Hades mood!

"Yeah," Hades' smirk is scary, sexy and sharp, looking at the... thing, he's created. "that should do it."

Your eyes are wide, and your cheeks and neck and chest are aflame from the kisses and being propped on the table with your legs parted, feet set on either arm of Hades' throne. Right where he wants you to be, caging him in. "That-... I, uh... Hades... that should do it, for- for... what?"

Its an odd thing, for sure, in his hand. Its cylindrical, thick and long with a soft, rounded tip that's slightly puffier than the rest of it. And at the other end of it theirs a wider, flatter part; A base. And the thick cylinder part is slightly... curved, too. You're not quite sure what you're looking at, though theirs definitely a thought nagging in your minds-eye, so you're just sitting there hot, breathless, exposed and baffled until Hades' takes notice.

When Hades notices your confused eyes, still clouded with the lust he built you up to already but also just... confused, his smirk becomes more devious. No longer can you see his teeth, just lips spread long, high cheekbones, narrowed eyes- and a glint.

"Oh trust me you're gonna love this handy little thing when we're done tonight- I might even let ya keep it, if I'm feeling charitable. A gift; from me to you, babe. Compliments of the house~"

"Its... well- it looks weird."

"This, doll, is an exact replica- of that thing I toldya we're not uh... using, today."

Immediately your face gets hotter, like its caught on fire. THATS what was nagging at you!! That- This thing- its a- its his-

You just called a God's manhood weird-looking. Oh n- Suddenly Hades changes his grip on it, holding the base and moving- disappearing from the throne before your eyes and reappearing again, standing tall before your far littler, mortal form. When the thing kisses your bare and already soaked hole, all thoughts vacate your mind and your hands fly to his toga; gripping the fabric in your fists.

"Trust me, eh? You're gonna love it when I'm done. Would I steer you wrong, babe?"

Dragging your eyes from the thing, up to Hades' eyes, eyes you already feel like you're falling in love with despite the short time you've been spending time together, you give it a think. Would he?

Or- more importantly, do you care? Right now you're absolutely dripping, curling your toes in anticipation of the thing stretching you out (feeling needy just at the feel of it ghosting against your slick skin), clenching Hades' toga in your fists like it'll lesson your achiness at all, and you feel so high on lust you'd do just about anything to be filled. His kisses were like a terrible drug, his tongue hot, thick and skilled teasing yours for what felt like forever, torturing you forever, until he finally attempted to reach his hand up your thigh. You're practically shaking with want. You've never felt it this bad, before. No one's ever turned you into this much an oversensitive mess before just with kissing.

To be fair though you've never been with a God, before.

After a moment you give a nod, desperate to have something fill you- rub against your clit- drag you to the edge by force. Fuck you.

"That's my favourite new plaything~ Okay, now listen,.. " You watch Hades lean down closer to you with glazed-over eyes, until he passes your lips by and you let out a sigh and drop your forehead on his shoulder, as he instead whispers hotly in your ear; "Here's the deal. You come, when I say so. I don't wanna hear any 'Hades I couldn't help it', cuz see I'm not gettin' anything outta this, am I babe?- what am I getting outta this? Nada. We're not even using my actual equipment, here. For your safety. Yah... So you're gonna have to put on a show for me, yeah? So c'mon, gimmie somethin to look back on. Be my personal pornstar."

You're already slipping away into foggy-brain mode, ready to disappear into the feeling of getting fucked, losing yourself in his voice. "Mhmm, o-kay." The smell of smoke is starting to overwhelm you, too, taking over your senses. It fills up your nose when you're this close to him, it warms your body, it leaves a barbecue-like taste on your tongue.

"Gonna haveta hear ya say it, babe. Remind me what's our deal?" The fake-cock presses against your folds, almost-almost breaching the entrance and stretching you and you give a hopeless whine.

"I'll... mm... you're missing out, so- so I'll... "

"Hmmmmm?" Hades decides to be an ass and strokes the thing up an down your folds, making it even harder for you to think. He also presses a simmering kiss to the top of your head to hide his chuckles, the bastard.

"... I'll be a p- pornstar for you... "

"That's right." Theirs a soft kind of pride in his voice that makes yours your insides squeeze, just as he slips the objects head into your pussy; beginning to massage it at a gradual pace in and out, going in deeper and deeper until the whole thing disappears in and out of your little, drippy, stretched entrance. You're gritting your teeth and pressing your forehead hard into his shoulder before you know it, feeling the throws of hot, throbbing pleasure building in you already.

While you're moaning and taking the fake cock in, the curve stretching you open and grinding perfectly against your sensitive clit (just enough to feel good but not enough to help you over the edge), Hades glides the long sharp fingers on his free hand along your thigh down to your knee- then pushes it back gently so your legs are open wider. It somehow maximises the feeling in you and you cant help the way your walls twitch around the thick, slimy instrument. How your hips roll towards it. "Hades! Hades hades hades- please please- "

"Good work, doll!, keep begging and you might just get watcha want outta me~ Maybe." His pumps get ever-so-slightly faster, filling you up more insistently, causing the sloppy suctioning sound of your tight wet cunt to get embarrassingly loud in the big empty room- making him smirk. "Sweetheart trust me you look good there... gonna be hard to talk shop here later on, if ya catch my drift. Eh?~ "

The thought of Hades communing with other gods, or the fates, or just Pain and Panic with his hand under the table pumping his leaky throbbing cock because of you flickers through your brain and makes you squeeze the toy inside you. "Hades! Hades! I- I c- I need- Please please, right there right there! I need y- ahhh," You want to reach down and touch yourself desperately, help yourself selfishly to an explosive climax around this perfect hard toy, but you behave yourself. You bite your lip and fight the urge, wanting to please him. "Faster please!! F- Faster, harder, in m- Ahh!"

Letting out a frustrated, orgasm-mad whine as the toy just continues to drive continuously into you at a moderate pace, only stimulating you enough to make you crazy with want, you decide to play with him some. Stretching slowly, you lean up to graze your lips against the heated skin of his neck. Then your tongue (The tip, then the full flatness, and then you give gentle suck~ Reminding him what you could be doing to him down there. Torturing him as bad as he's tortured you), and as your hands glide down his warm clothed chest, Hades grunts; frustrated himself as your mischievous fingers near his actual cock. "Babe, you know you're playing with fire he- "

Even through his toga, you can feel his length burning up and painfully hard. Gently stroking it, your relax down from his neck as you just weakly take the pounding in your core; delicately playing with his cock meanwhile. Sliding your hand up and down the hidden body part, which may be even thicker then the toy actually, making him twitch.

You almost lose yourself in this, the slow, torturous pleasure and the feeling of Hades' cock under your fingers. After a few moments of this, you notice the fake one shoving into you rougher, making the pressure inside you start to build up slowly so you look up at him; Eyes widening at the look on his face immediately.

With a pent-up frustrated frown at you, Hades starts to ram the damn thing into your hot, puffy walls; ripping you apart and abusing your little clit without a seconds notice. The fire on top of his head flashes orange and you know you did it. "Fine Y/N- you wanna act like a whore, okay. Trust me, I can treat you like a bitch if you want to be."

Your orgasm builds faster then before, the thick curved thing pounding into your pussy again and again at a filthy inhuman speed, fucking you hard and so rough your mouth hangs open obscenely as you press your forehead once again into Hades shoulder- hard. The heel of his hand brushes your skin every time he thrusts the toy inside your meaty walls and its a little detail that reminds you its him. Its not a soulless fucking machine. Its him. You stretch your thighs open wider to increase the feeling, unable to do much other then that but take the fucking- its just how you wanted, its better, its yanking your climax out of you desperately and selfishly.

When you're so so close, Hades makes you stretch your head backwards on your neck and kisses you again; making you gag on his long inhuman tongue for working him up like you did. You let out a strangled moan, shocked that it feels good having your ability to breath stolen from you in such a vulgar way, and stretch upwards towards him, trailing your tongue languidly against his in responce.

When he finally forces an orgasm out of you you're left twitching and shaking against Hades' chest.

"Thereee you go, that was my personal pornstar. Could use some work learning not to ever, mess with me- but for a first go I think that was pretty great. Full marks." Hades chuckles, nudging your chin upwards again - gentle this time, - to look at him. Theirs that devious smirk and those mischievous yellow eyes, looking at you like you're a tasty treat. "Now how about a smile? Maybe a 'thanks. lord of the dead, I feel fucking amazing'?"

With a tired sigh and a spent grin that turns slightly cheeky, you nod okay. "Thank you, oh lord. You did pretty good, too."

Hades' face looks thoroughly unamused at your smartass responce but in the moment with your pussy still throbbing you think its the cutest expression, ever. Then he releases your face and shrugs, an indifferent look on his face now. "Eh, well, I guess you don't want the bath I was gonna draw for ya-- fit for a god, with uh, you know, ambrosia, and stuff. Oh well, see ya next time toots- "

Oh that sounds good, damn. You look after him with sad wide eyes and frown, softly. "... a bath?" Your sweet, tired, fucked-out voice draws him right back in and his voice is gentle on his next words.

"Its in progress, sweetheart."

With that and a happy hum from you, Hades seals his lips to yours for another long, languid kiss while the bath is drawn for you.

[strawwberrry]

“Do you like scary movies?”

The rough voice on the other end of the phone asked. You paused for a moment, debating if you should hang up, or keep talking to the stranger. “Yeah, I do” you said, leaning on your counter. “What’s your favourite scary movie?” The mysterious voice asked. You thought of many either you and your friends had watched together at a sleepover, or you had just put on. “Hmm” you hummed in thought “I’d say….. The House of Wax” you smiled. “That’s not scary, but a classic��� the voice said. You walked over to the other side of the room, stretching the phone cord from the wall. “Yeah yeah, still good” you shrugged. The voice chuckled then paused, “You gotta boyfriend?” The voice asked. Slightly confused by the random question yet still intrigued “why? You wanna ask me out on a date?” You joked. “Well, do you have a boyfriend?” You grinned, “No, I don’t” you walked back to the phone box. “You never told me your name, baby” Your mouth fell open slightly at the nickname. You didn’t know if you should be flattered or creeped out, but you were leaning towards the first. “Why do you wanna know my name huh?” You said, twirling the phone cord around your index finger “Cause I want to know who I’m looking at” Your heart seemed to drop and your breath caught in your lungs. “What?….” You said, your voice slightly shaky. “I want to know who I’m talking to” he said. Your heart rate sped up, “No no, that’s not what you said” your lunch wanted to come up just at the sheer thought of someone watching you. “Come on baby, we were just getting to know each other” the voice dripping of sarcastic poutyness. The only logical thing you think to do is hang up. You slam the phone on its spot on the wall. God why did you think it was a good idea to talk to strangers huh? You wanted to kick yourself. The phone started to ring again. You stared at it. Then ran upstairs to your room and slammed the door shut. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. This was like a horror movie. You heard foot steps coming up the stairs, and getting closer to your room. You stopped breathing and covered your mouth. You heard something scratch the door. “Baby, I know you’re in there. Just come out, I ain’t going to hurt you” the rough voice said, then chuckled. You backed up into a corner, carful not to make any noise. He pounded his hand onto the door, making it shake. “Get out here, or I will break this fucking door down.” His voice dropped. A few tears fell, as he continued to pound. You were frozen and had no idea what to do. The door could break off its hinges any minute. Just ask you were thinking of something, anything to do. CRACK. Your eyes darting over to the door as it fell to the ground. There stood a person with a ghost mask on. Taller then you, and definitely stronger then you. Fuck.

———————————————————

Cliffhanger! This is inspired by that one scene from scream? Y’all know the one. Anyone this is the first fic I’m posting to this!

[artyandink]

we could be more | dean winchester | 18

Summary: Ivonne Rainer was practically a trained killing machine. Stripped to the bone then built back up by her father in order to become one of the best, like he was. She was forced into hunting when she was nineteen, having developed powers that couldn’t be explained. That is, until she was paid a visit by Azazel’s lackey. Her powers were gone, she needed help, and that’s when she found her father’s journal. Pointing to Sam and Dean Winchester.

SERIES MASTERLIST

WHAT IS AND WHAT SHOULD NEVER BE

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : HOUSE OF MEMORIES - PANIC!AT THE DISCO 

I opened my eyes, adjusting to the surroundings. Which was mostly blood. And fire. And more blood. “What the hell-“ 

“Hello, Ivonne.” I saw a demon in front of me, a short, pudgy man in a suit. He looked like a five year old with a big forehead. I chuckled, smirking. 

“Looks like I’m in it.” 

“We’re been waiting for you.” 

“Flattered.” I sniped. “Who are you?” 

“Demon.” 

“And you’re wearing a suit like you’re the boss? Keep dreaming.” He was silent, so I laughed again. “Oh, so you are? I was expecting more of an intimidating visage, really. But good on you, I supposed.”

“No-no.” He grunted distastefully, then put on the smirk again. “Lucifer’s… on holiday. My name’s Crowley, the demon who’ meant to handle you, and you’ve got the penthouse here. You’re in Hell, honey, and there’s no escaping.”

Dean woke up in a bed that wasn’t his, looking around in confusion. He got up and walked into the living room of the apartment, then took out his cell and called Sam.

‘Dean?’ 

“Sam?” 

‘What's going on?’ 

“I don't know. I don't know where I am.”

’What? What happened?’ 

“Well, the uh, the Djinn. It attacked me.” 

‘The gin? You’re drinking gin?’ 

“No, asshat. The Djinn. The... scary creature. Remember? It put its hand on me and then I woke up... in a weird place.”

Sam chuckled. ‘You mean your apartment, the place you live?’ 

“And Beanie… oh god, Beanie… she’s dead.”

’Who’s Beanie? Who is she, Dean?’ 

“Ivy. Our Ivy, don’t you remember her?” 

‘Dean, you're drunk. You're drunk-dialing me.’ 

“I am not drunk. Quit screwing around!” 

‘Look, it's late. All right, just get some sleep and, um, I'll ... see you tomorrow. OK?’ 

“Wait, Sam. Sam!” Sam hung up, so Dean searched his contacts. 

No Ivy.

“Dean.” Mary Winchester frowned when she saw her son at the door. 

“Mom?” Dean whispered, his voice breaking. 

“What are you doing here? Are you all right?” 

“I don't know.” 

“Well, come inside, then.” She led him inside, concerned. “What’s going on?” 

“Let me ask you a question. When I was a kid, what did you always tell me when you put me to bed?” 

“I-I don’t understand-“ 

“Just answer the question.” 

“I told you angels were watching over you.” 

He breathed a sigh of relief. “I don't believe it.” He hugged her tightly, tears threatening to fall down his face. 

“Honey, you're scaring me.” Mary murmured. “Now just tell me what's going on.” 

“You don't think that wishes can, can really...” 

“What?” 

“Forget it. I’m just happy you’re here, is all.” He took her shoulders. “You're beautiful.” 

“What?” 

“Hey, when I was uh... When I was young was there ever a fire here?” 

“No, never.” 

“I thought there was.” He smiled. “I guess I was wrong. Dad's on a softball team.” 

“He loved that stupid team.” Mary chuckled. 

“Dad's dead? And the thing that killed him was a...” 

“A stroke. He died in his sleep, you know that.” 

“Hey, Nate. Nate!” A boy of around eight dashed down the stairs, jumping down the last three. A blonde woman who looked in her early 20s ran after him, while a slightly older guy followed at a slower pace. “Nathan Michael Rainer, get back here! You can play Captain America another time; your bedtime was fifty minutes ago!” The surname struck a chord, and Dean’s eyes widened. Could she…

“Lily!” The guy called, then threw up his hands in exasperation. He then turned to Dean and Mary in surprise. “Oh, I’m sorry, Mrs Winchester, I didn’t know you were having guests around.” 

“No, that’s ok, honey, it was a surprise to me too.” Mary laughed, then gestured to Dean. “This is my elder son, Dean.” 

“Nice to meet you.” Dean held out a hand, which the boy shook. 

“You too, man. I’m Carter.” Carter grinned, then looked behind him. So… that was Carter Rainer.

“Hell of a grip.” 

“Back atcha. Excuse me, my brother’s on a sugar high. Shouldn’t have let him eat ice cream after seven. Or eat ice cream at all.” He jogged off, and Mary shook her head with a giggle. 

“Who’s…” 

“Oh, come on, Dean.” Mary sighed. “Carter’s Sam’s best friend and you definitely know this. You’re drunk, aren’t you?” 

“No.” Dean shook his head. “‘Course not.” 

“Well, Audrey and Michael’s kids are over for Christmas while they’re having their anniversary together in Hawaii. Though it’s hard managing Nate without- oh, speak of the angel.“ The doorbell rang, so Mary rushed to open it, the person behind her masked by the hug they gave each other. 

“I hope I’m not late to the party.” The voice broke Dean’s heart, and he had to gulp back tears, heading into the dining room to recover, but still peering through the door. She’s alive. “Is Nate in bed?” 

“Too much ice cream.” 

“Ok, so he’s a race car by now, got it.” Ivonne Rainer walked in, taking off her beanie and leather jacket, hanging it up. Then, just as Nate ran past, she scooped him up, making him giggle. “Someone’s not sleepy, huh?” 

“No!” Nate pouted, folding his arms. “I want to stay up, like the rest of you.” 

“Oh, but you’re sleepy, Nate.” She insisted. Then she moved her pointed in a loop around his face, his eyes following as the circle got smaller. “You’re getting sleepier, and sleepier, and boop!” She tapped his nose. “You’re really sleepy.” Nate yawned, and she smiled, kissing his forehead. “There we go.” Then she turned to Quinn, who emerged from the kitchen. “Quinn, you get the honour of putting Sleepy Nate to bed. I’ll help Mrs Winchester out.” 

“Sure thing.” Quinn smiled, taking Nate upstairs. Dean blinked; it was hard to look at her the same after seeing her as a dreamwalker, being the cause of Ivy’s death and also being a hardcore psycho. However, it was good to see her, well, normal.

Ivy turned to Carter and Lily. “You two better get some sleep too.” 

“We’re 23 and 20, sis, not 15 and 12.” Carter smirked, rolling his eyes. The ages at which they died.

“I’m 27, so I hold the cards.” Ivy retorted, ruffling Carter’s hair. “Head up, short stack.” 

“I’m four inches taller.” 

“You used to be four inches smaller.” 

“Yeah, when I was twelve.” 

“Go and I’ll get you a burrito for breakfast.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” Lily and Carter saluted in sync and headed upstairs, and Ivy turned to Mary with a triumphant grin. 

“Madness fixed.” She laughed. 

“Thank goodness, I can finally rest.” Mary joked as they went into the dining room. Dean’s eyes instantly fell on Ivy, his breath hitching. She looked the same, except she looked happier. Less worn, and she had a tattoo of three flying birds on her collarbone. The scar on her eyebrow was the same, her freckles were in place, but she had a few more laugh lines, and she had dimples when she smiled. 

She looked beautiful to him. Well, she always looked beautiful.

“Should I put on a cup?”

“That would be amazing. Oh!” Mary exclaimed upon seeing Dean. She walked up to him, guiding him by the arm to face Ivy. “Dean, this is Ivonne, you haven’t met her yet. She works in the force in Jersey. Ivy, this is Dean.” 

“Dean?” Ivy smiled, giving him a look which made his knees weak. “The Dean? Big brother, Dean?” 

“That Dean, yeah.” Dean nodded, and they shook hands, though his hand lingered for a bit longer than he’d intended it to. 

“It’s great to meet you, man. I’ve heard a lot about you.” She grinned, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Been dying to see the dude that raised Sammy.” 

“Yeah. You’re, uh, you’re lookin’ at him.” 

“I’m glad I am.” She turned to Mary, taking her shoulders gently. Is this what she’d be like had her siblings survived? “Mary, I’m gonna set some dinner up for Dean in the kitchen, you relax. Watch some TV.” 

“Thanks, sweetie.” 

“No problem.” She shrugged, then turned to Dean with a crooked, winning grin that mirrored her usual one, making Dean’s heart leap from his chest. “D’you want dinner, or are you gonna keep standing there?” Dean blindly followed her into the kitchen, at a loss for words. “So, the Dean, what d’you do for a living?” 

“It’s complicated.” 

“Try me, why don’t you?” 

“I… I’m a… hunter.” 

She grinned, though there was a flicker of something else. “Not that hard, is it? Dad’s hobby was hunting before he married my mom. Taught me how to shoot, so I went in the force. Majored in Criminology and also did a side course in folklore.” 

“Shoo in at the academy, I’m guessing.” He chuckled. 

“Oh, you have no idea.” 

“I might.” She didn’t respond, busy cutting a cucumber with surprising accuracy. He stared at her, and at the necklace hanging from her neck, smiling softly and almost breathlessly. “Good with knives too?” 

“Perks of havin’ a mom who’s good in the kitchen and a dad who’s good with guns.” She looked up, catching him staring. “Whatcha starin’ at?” 

“You.” He blurted, then caught his words. “You, uh, cause you’re… you’re beautiful.” 

“Thanks.” She giggled. “And here I thought you were the take it slow type.” 

“Oh-“ 

“I’m just kidding, you’re good. No harm in complimenting a woman.” She passed him a plate of salad and a plate with a burger, both of which he dug into happily. The salad? More reluctantly, but still. “If we’re trading compliments, then I think you’re handsome.” 

“Do you?” He chuckled, looking up. 

“I do. I say it like I see it.” 

“I’m familiar with it.” 

“So, Dean, got a special lady where you’re from?” She had a twinkle in her eye, and Dean bit his lip, smiling. 

“Yeah, yeah I do. I did.” He nodded. 

“You did?” Her eyebrows furrowed. 

“Yeah, past tense.” 

“You don’t have to talk about it-“

“No, I can. It was a while ago.” He gulped, swallowing the tears. “I called her Beanie, cause she was always wearing one, but, uh, her name’s… Hazel.” 

“I’d love this Hazel.” Ivy smiled, sitting down with a cup of tea. “My middle name’s Hazel. Tell me more about her.”

”She was… badass.” A goofy grin spread across his features, lighting them up. “Always had a plan, always knew what to say. She’d set me straight if I needed to be set, and her smile…” 

“Let me guess, it can light up the room?” 

“Nah. It could cause a power outage.” 

“That good, huh?” 

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for y-her.” He caught his words. “If she was still here.” 

“Sounds like a lucky girl.” She smiled. 

You’re that lucky girl.

“No, I was a lucky man.” She made a face as if she was deducing something for a split second, then it looked like she pushed the thoughts down. 

“Do I- Do I know you from… somewhere?” 

“No.” He shook his head. “Probably not.” 

“You just seem…” She let out a sigh that bordered on nostalgic, “familiar.” 

“Like you’ve just met someone but you feel like you’ve known them forever?” 

“Pretty much.” She tilted her head. “You’re a strange one, Dean Winchester.” 

“And is that a bad thing?” 

“I work in the force. Strange is a normal thing.”

The next morning, Dean woke up, and the first thing on his mind was the Djinn. Then he thought of someone who can help. He got up, walking over to where he thought Ivy would be, which was… making Nate eat his breakfast. 

“You’ve got it.” She ruffled his hair, then saw Dean. A smile lit up on her face, and she walked over. “Morning, Dean. Whatcha want for breakfast?” 

“To talk. To you.” He gulped, and a look of concern crossed her face. 

“Yeah, of course. C’mon, Mary gave me John’s study if I ever needed quiet time.” They went into a small room with well kept books on the shelves, and she shrugged. “What’s up?” 

“Do you have any books on folklore? Like… creatures and stuff? I’m curious about one.” 

She took off a book, the exact book she used to use when she was alive, flicking through it. “Mhmm. Which one?” 

“Djinn.” 

“Djinn… got it.” She tapped a place on the page. “I can barely read Ancient Greek, but what do you wanna know?” 

“If they can really grant wishes.” 

“Yeah, they… can.” Ivy furrowed her brow, staring at him weirdly. “Dean, these are mythical creatures. You can’t possibly think they’re real.” 

“I do.” He stepped forward, the coil in his head snapping. “And something tells me that you think the same.”

”What-“ 

“I know more about you than you think. Ivonne Hazel Rainer, born on January 9th, 1979 to Audrey and Michael Rainer. Your favourite colour is the orange the leaves turn in fall. Your favourite band is Led Zeppelin. During high school, you had a phase where you were a blonde babe.” 

“How do you-“ 

“Your leather jacket was your father’s. You stole Carter’s beanie, but that’s fine cause you got him another one for his birthday. Everything you know about fighting came from your dad.” 

She took out her gun, aiming it at him, fire blazing in her grey eyes. “Are you some kind of elaborate stalker? If you are, give me one good reason why I shouldn’t blow your brains out.” She flicked off the safety when the doorbell rang, and she put the gun down, putting the safety on. “You’re safe for now, douche.” She stored the gun in her waistband, hiding it with her shirt, then jogged down to the door and opened it to reveal Sam and Jessica. 

“Sam, man!” Carter yelled, and Sam grinned. 

“Carter!” They bro hugged, while Ivy hugged Jessica tightly. 

“How have you been?” She asked Jessica, who then started gushing about her day. Dean started talking to Sam, but found that their relationship wasn’t what it used to be. “Hey, Sammy.” She smiled. 

“Ivy!” Sam hugged her, but Ivy had to stand on her toes. “How’s work? Catch any bad guys?” 

“Loads. Now come on, I’ve made breakfast.” She looked up at him. “Am I shrinking or are you getting taller?”  

“Neither.” When they got inside and everyone headed to the kitchen, Ivy pressed her forearm to Dean’s collarbone and shoved him into a side room, pinning him to the wall. 

“How do you know so much about me, huh?!” She interrogated. “What are you, a psychic? Shapeshifter? Demon?” 

Dean’s eyes widened upon hearing it. “You don’t work in the force, do you-“

”Answer the question!” 

“I know all that because I knew you. In a place where you had a much worse life.”

”You’re lying.”

”Would I have your gun if I was?” Dean took out Ivy’s - his Ivy’s - gun, showing it to her. 

“My gun.” She breathed. “What… how?” 

“Girl called Hazel? That’s you. I somehow got into this reality where everything’s great, but it isn’t. There were newspapers in your office of incidents that I was meant to stop. With Sam and you. And you’re not meant to be alive.” 

“What are you talking about?”

”In my, uh, reality, you’re a lot rougher around the edges. That’s cause Quinn? She dies of cancer because your dad took her on a hunting trip that got her turned, and he OD’d her with dead man’s blood and made it look like cancer, so she died. Your dad dies because a dreamwalker carved his heart out. Then the dreamwalker, who you found out much later was Quinn, possesses Carter and makes him murder your mom, your then unborn brother Nate and Lily. Then you shoot him in self defence. All of this happened when you were nineteen, and you went on a monster killing spree until you were twenty six, which is when you met me. A year later, the dreamwalker comes back, and you reveal the truth. It forces you to kill your boyfriend and almost kills your dad. Now, you also had a rune preventing you from using sorcery that was meant to go to your brother. That could only be broken by a love sacrifice, and to break it you pushed me out of the way of Quinn’s attack and…” He paused, gritting his teeth, “you made me kill you.” 

“And why?” 

“So she couldn’t get to you again.” 

“You’re made of bull, you know that, right?” She scoffed, taking out her gun. “I don’t believe you. I really don’t.” 

“Look at me.” He ordered, “Look me in the eye, Beanie, and tell me if I’m lying.” 

“I don’t need to look you in the eye to tell.” 

“I loved you!” Dean burst out, breathing heavily. “Hell, more than I’d like to admit. I’ve tried to get over you, but I… I can’t.” 

“Still full of-“

“Just take one look at me and tell me whether I’m lying. Please, Beanie.” 

She sighed in defeat, then gave him a long, hard look. “You’re not, are you?”

”That’s what I was tryna tell you.” She let him go, biting her lip. 

“You better be telling the truth. Otherwise I’d skin you alive. In the meantime, we’ve got your mom’s dinner party.” 

A plate of asparagus was set in front of Dean, making Ivy chuckle. “Wow, that... looks awesome.”

“To Mary.” Ivy raised her glass. “Happy birthday.” 

“To Mary.” Everyone clinked their glasses together, sipping. Sam and Jessica shared a kiss, and Dean smirked. 

“What do you say, later we get you a cheeseburger?” She grinned, leaning closer to him. 

“You’re an angel.” Dean whispered.

“I know.” 

“How’d you become such a cool chick?” 

“Ask my dad, not me.” 

“All right. Jess and I actually have another surprise for Mom's birthday.” Sam announced, turning to Jessica. “Ah... You wanna tell 'em?” 

“They’re your family.” Jessica insisted. 

“Alright.” 

“What?” Mary asked excitedly. “Tell me what?” Sam held up Jessica’s hand, entwined with his, a ring flashing on it. “Oh my God! That's so wonderful.” We all stood up sans Dean, hugging each other. 

“Don’t forget the boys, Sam.” Carter grinned, clapping Sam on the shoulder. 

“Oh, come on, Carter.” Quinn chastised with a smile incredibly similar to Carter’s. What is he thinking? They’re twins, of course they’d be similar. “We’re so happy for you.” 

“And come to think of it,” Ivy teased, hugging Jessica, “you were both shyer than Carter in his teens when you met each other.” 

“Oh, shut up.” Sam rolled his eyes playfully. 

“That’s no way to talk to your marriage planner. Now, c’mon, we need to break out the champagne! And no, Lily, you’re underage.” 

“Come on!” Lily complained. 

“Lily, just one year.” 

“One year’s too long.” 

“Sorry, bite size.” Carter smirked, sipping champagne. “You’ve gotta wait.”

“You ok?” Ivy asked, sitting down on the sofa beside Dean and offering him a beer. He gladly took it, sipping it. 

“Sammy and I don’t get along.” Dean lamented, and she shrugged. 

“He doesn’t know what he’s missing.” 

“I can fix things with Sam. I can make it up to him. To everyone.”

”Doesn’t make a lick of sense, dude.” She took a sip. “My alternate version, what did she say to you before she died?” 

“She called me a dumbass.” He grinned, then faltered. “Said that she didn’t want to die so soon, but she had no option. She made me promise that I wouldn’t blame myself for her death, even though I’m the one that did it.” 

“She asked you to do it, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Then don’t blame yourself.” She shrugged, then laughed. “She sounds like a smart girl.” Ivy turned, seeing him staring with the same look as yesterday. “What?” 

“You’re so much more happier here.” He chuckled. “It’s relieving. To know that if all that crazy shtick hadn’t happened, you might be… who you are now. You wouldn’t be so hard set, so averse to new opportunities-“ 

“What new opportunities?” 

“This.” With that, he cupped her cheek, kissing her. He pulled back almost instantly running a hand through his hair as he internally cursed himself for kissing someone who was a stranger to him in this world. “Damn, Ivy, I’m so sorry-“ He was pulled back in for another kiss, Ivy holding his shirt but then cupping the nape of his neck. Then something seemed to switch, and she pulled back, standing up. 

“No.” She shook her head. “I’m sorry, but… no.” Ivy let out a breathless chuckle, shaking her head as she ran a hand through her hair. “Whatever this is? It comes from your love for your Ivy, not me. I can’t replace her, Dean. I’m not rough around the edges like she is. My family’s alive, Dean, and i’d very much like it to stay that way, but we need to get you back. To your family.” 

“I’ve only got Sammy left in my world.” He frowned, “I’m not sure I want to go back.” 

“Well, you need to, buddy.” She clapped his shoulder. “C‘mon, let’s get you to wherever the Djinn was.” 

“First…” He held a finger up, “I need a silver knife.” 

“You kidding me?! It’s 12 in the morning!” 

“I still need it!” 

“Fine, but get the largest one, yeah? I’m waiting in the Impala.” 

“You don’t have the-“ She held up the keys. “Yeah, should’ve known you’d swipe ‘em from my pocket.” 

“Mhmm. Meet me in the car.” 

Ivy was tapping the steering wheel impatiently when Dean got in, holding up the knife. Then after him came Sam. 

“Sam?!” She hissed to Dean. 

“Wha…” He turned to see Sam. “What are you doing here?” 

“I’m coming with you.” He panted.

”No, he’s not.” Ivy refused. 

“You're just gonna slow us down.” Dean grimaced. 

“Us?!” Sam exclaimed indignantly. “What, is Dean some undercover cop?” 

“You could say that.” Ivy huffed. “Sam, this is dangerous and you could get seriously hurt.” 

“Well, tough.” 

“You’re not leaving, are you?”

”Nope.” 

“Ok, but don’t blame me and go crying to Jessica if you get hurt.” She floored it, driving off. 

“What's in the bag?” Sam asked, spotting the bag in between Dean and I. 

“Nothin’.” Dean sighed. 

“Nothin’?” 

“Nothin’.” 

“Fine.” He grabbed the bag, starting to open it. 

“Sam, you don’t wanna know what’s inside.” Ivy groaned. 

“Oh really?” He took out the container of blood, making her shake her head. “Blood?” 

“We needed a knife dipped in lamb’s blood.”

”You needed a silver knife dipped in lamb's blood, why?” 

“There’s this thing, a Djinn. We need to hunt it.” Dean explained. 

“Stop the car.” Sam ordered. 

“This is why I said you shouldn’t come along.” Ivy snapped. Sam pulled out his phone, dialling a number. 

“I mean, you guys are obviously having a psychotic breakdown, and-“ She grabbed his phone, throwing it out the window. 

“We’re not psychotic. This here? It’s real.”

”My phone-“ 

“Tough, kid.” She sighed. “Listen to me and listen to me carefully, Sam. I’m not a police officer. I’m what people like me call a hunter. And I hunt demons, ghosts, you name the supernatural creature, I hunt it. Dean does too. A Djinn grants wishes, and Dean here seems to be stuck in one. Got it?” 

“What about Carter? Lily, Quinn, Nate, do they know this?” 

“Nope. They don’t know a thing, and you’re not gonna tell anyone, you hear me?” 

“Loud and clear.” 

“Good. Now sleep.” 

“But-“ 

“Sleep.” 

They pulled up at the Djinn’s hideout, and Sam woke up with a jerk. “Where are we?” 

“Not in Kansas.” Ivy quipped, getting out of the car. “We’re in Illinois.”

”And you think there’s something in there?” 

“Yeah.” She nodded exasperatedly. “Yeah, he does. Let’s go.” They headed inside, but found nothing. Yet. 

“See? There’s nothing. C’mon, l-let’s just go.” There was a sound, and Sam yelped. “What the hell is that?”

”Stay behind me and keep your mouth shut.” Dean ordered. They stalked through the halls, then they split. Ivy checked on the bodies hanging from the stands, muttering under her breath. “What if that's what the Djinn does? It doesn't grant you a wish, it just makes you think it has.” Dean wondered, making her join them. 

“Listen, it might come back-“

”What if I'm like her? What if I'm tied up in here some place? What if all this is in my head? I mean it could, you know, maybe it gives us some kind of supernatural acid, and then just feeds on us slow.” 

“That doesn’t make sense.”

”It's - it's like more and more like I'm catching flashes of reality. You know, like I'm in here somewhere, and I'm - I'm catatonic, and I'm taking all this stuff in but I, but I can't snap out of it.”

”Yeah, OK, look. Yeah, yeah, yeah, you're right. I was wrong. You're not crazy but we – we – we need to get out of here. Fast.” Sam tried to pull Dean with him, but Dean detached himself. 

“I don’t think you’re real.”

Sam took Dean’s arms, gripping them tight. “Dude, you feel that? You feel this? I'm real. This is not an acid trip. I'm real, and that thing is gonna come down here and kill us for real. Now, please—“

”There’s one way to be sure.” Dean pulled out the knife.

”Woah, what are you doing?” 

“It’s an old wives’ tale. If you’re about to die in a dream, you wake up.” 

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no. That's crazy. All right?” 

“Do it, Dean.” Ivy urged, stepping forward. 

“You stay back!” Sam snapped harshly. Everyone appeared, surrounding him. “Why did you keep digging? Why couldn’t you leave well enough alone, Dean?” 

“Because this isn’t real.” Dean shook his head. “Ivy’s meant to be dead.” 

“She’s alive here.” Carter insisted. “You love her. Don’t lose her.” 

“It's everything you want. We're a family again. Let’s go home.” Mary pleaded. 

“I'll die.” Dean whispered. “The Djinn'll... drain the life out of me in a couple of days.” 

“But in here, with us, it'll feel like years. Like a lifetime. I promise. No more pain. Or fear. Just love and comfort. And safety. Dean, stay with us. Get some rest.” 

“You don't have to worry about Sam anymore.” Jessica smiled. “You get to watch him live a full life.”

”Don’t listen.” Ivy begged. “What’s dead should stay dead, Dean. You’re not going to get anything out of this.”

”Why is it our job to save everyone? Haven't we done enough? I'm begging you.” Sam stepped forward, holding out his hand. “Give me the knife.” 

“Do it.” 

“I’m sorry.” Dean lifted the knife, plunging it into himself-

I gasped, my eyes flying open as I tried to sit up, but my head collided with wood. Straight wood. 

“What’s going..?” I panted, looking around, but meeting the boring sight of oak each time. “Am I in a coffin?” 

I started banging on the ceiling, yelling out. 

“HELLO?!”

”IS ANYONE THERE?!”

”I’M BURIED ALIVE!”

Oh boy.

A/N Time!

I feel like I should explain this episode. Dean loves Ivy, as he revealed, but his idea of a dream world with Ivy is her living the life she was supposed to, where her family’s alive. It’s also where she’s getting with him on HER terms (my sweet boy’s a gentleman) and not because it’s what he wants. And she encourages him to stab his elf because the Djinn made a mistake when interpreting that Ivy’s ‘always on Dean’s side’ because she encouraged him to break free.

Anyway, that’s enough wafflin’ from me.

Love y’all, and feel free to comment, reblog and like!

Arty :)

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[lucysgirlcunnie]

i've been lurking the forced misgen/forced feminisation/humiliation/forced breast expansion side of tumblr for a while- you're actually the first blog i've interacted with- i've been on t for about 4/5 months now and i dont know what's happening its just that my nipples have been so sensitive and i cant bind due to medical stuff so i just have this double d tits jumping around all day- i mean i can feel them moving constantly, rubbing against tables and things- and cuz of the t weight gain all my shirts have gotten smaller so they're just pressing up against the cotton.. it makes me so wet, i dont know what to do i spent a good hour just rubbing my nipples i mean what the fuck i've never been that wet before EVER and it didnt stop it just kept spiraling and now trying to work out how to get womens underwear without outing myself (im in a small town) and how i can reach my g-spot with my own fingers- god i want to submit to this ftmgirl thing but im still selfaware enough to be utterly humiliated by it, can i get some thoughts from a ftmgirlie?

i am so flattered that im one of the first blogs you've interacted with!! also im so proud of you for reaching out girl💗💖, it can be scary and intimidating to do at first but its definitely the right thing.

its very common that when us girls go on t, instead of it making us into men, it makes us into sluts💖. if you give a female a "man" sex drive what do you expect will happen? its kind of silly how surprised we all get when a couple months in our cunts start begging us for cock and to become bitches in heat💕, but only real men are really capable of handling that sex drive as nature intended💗.

so it makes perfect sense that your female nipples are responding too, theyre asking you to listen to your biology, thats why you get wet too! your pussy and your body loves your gorgeous, plush tits. im so glad you havent gotten rid of them either, neither have i and im so relieved. its also so relatable that once you give in to one thing (sensitive nipples💖) you quickly fall down the rabbit hole and give in to the next thing (girls underwear💗) and the next thing (finding your g spot🌸 ). us girls are kind of weak willed like that hehe🥰

i think being utterly humiliated by making such a silly mistake and confusing yourself for a man is a good thing, i completely relate, everyday im humiliated by myself and how pathetic i am and you know what? it makes my pussy even more soaked!🌸 females are designed this way, and no matter whether we take t or call ourselves men we just cannot escape our biology💗 and theres something really beautiful about that.

just give in, it will feel insanely good and way better than pretending to be a man ever could, fuck your cunt, jiggle your tits, buy that pretty pink dress and those lacy bra and panties you keep staring at, be the girl you know you are alongside me - im still on my journey too! and asks like these help convince me as well 💗

[onetrackbeanbrain]

Scary? My God You’re Divine (Pt. 2)

TW: Kidnapping, implied sexual themes

Gender-neutral

Patricia x artist!reader

————————————

It had been a day since Patricia took that drawing from you. You’ve been given food by Dennis, and visited once by Hedwig (before he said he wasn’t supposed to be there and rushed out), but nothing from Patricia.

You still remember, mostly, how she looks. You could get a good sketch down even now. If only you had any tools. Honestly, you thought of etching something into the wall, but…you’re not that far gone yet. That- and you didn’t want to piss off Dennis.

‘It should be around dinner-time now. I wonder when I’ll get food..’

Surely, some time passed, and then,

Creeak.

The door opened. A tray of food was left by the door, on the ground. ‘That’s…odd? Maybe Dennis is too busy with the others- and to leave the door open?’

You inched towards the food tray, and notice a note and some other items strewn about it- in addition to the food, of course.

‘The drawin waz realy good. I onlee saw it for a sekond. I wanna draw with u some tim! - Hedwig’

Once you pulled the tray through the door and read the note, it was pulled shut. Next to the note were two pieces of paper and a small shaved down pencil. It didn’t have an eraser with how worn down it was. But the artist in you rejoiced at finally, finally, being able to draw the person at the center of your inspirations. And draw you did-

you sketched a 3/4 angle of Patricia with her eyes closed (because eyes are hard and you don’t have her in front of you to perfect the details), one of her full outfit- the grey turtleneck, skirt, shawl, necklace, and heels (though you would draw the red one later), one of her to the side- making a sandwich- a memory of that day she saw the first drawing, and for the fun of it, you also drew one of Hedwig in a more cartoonish art style in a little superhero pose.

So much time passed as you drew, the only sound (now that the other girls were gone) was your pencil scratching the paper you were given. You took bites of your food while drawing, loosing track of the hours, and eventually, the door gave its telltale cream of opening once more.

By now, you had filled about a page and a half of sketches with them- mostly of Patricia. Some meant to be stills from real life, some meant to capture her aura- or of her with things she expressed interest in: large felines, flowers, or prayer, being the main ones (though that last one was a bit loose. Those drawings seemed more like depicting her as a divine figure, not holy perse but something close.)

And they were all on the floor for Patricia to see when she walked in. She was in a different outfit this time- you would be sure to record it in a sketch later- it was a deep green shawl, like the orange before, and a sage green turtleneck with her black skirt.

“Oh, dear, I am flattered really. I figured this might happen…I step away for one day and Dennis lets Hedwig do whatever he wishes.” She sighs, shaking her head. Though, despite the words, she seems- almost distraught, concerned maybe.

“I have to confess, I don’t particularly understand your fascination with drawing us. Or, me, in particular.” She says, glancing down at the drawings that littered the papers, clasping her hands together in front of her.

It was rather obvious they were meant to be her, the outfits were giveaways- being the only woman you’ve seen in Kevin’s system. She just didn’t understand why. They weren’t all of her of course, she almost smiled at the one miniature drawing of Hedwig once she spotted it. But there were enough for her to be cautious.

“I do hope this is not reminiscent of, Dennis’ nature, let’s say. I would be very upset to find something like that among the drawings, dear.” Patricia nearly spat out.

You would have choked on your food had you not finished eating earlier. “What? I wouldn’t- I would never do that!”

“Of course, you wouldn’t find it fitting to get back at your kidnappers in the only way you have control over in this place, right?” She supplied, with a vicious sarcasm, a furrowed brow and tight smile.

“No. I wouldn’t.” This was the most confident you’d been since you’ve been here, “and I would ask you not insult me as an artist, that I would even think to do that to a person without their consent.” You dragged out, anger and fear mixing together now, causing your sentence to fade slightly at the end.

“Mm, then you won’t mind me taking these. Will you, dear?” Patricia asked, bending down to grab them.

You slid the drawings away from her slightly,

“I-I worked hard on these. Please, you won’t throw them away, right miss?”

“It doesn’t matter what I do with them, you never should have had this paper in the first place.” She grabbed the edge of one of the papers.

“Patricia, please.” You begged. You were proud of these sketches. And, she was right, it’s all you have here. So maybe you’re a bit protective over them.

You locked gazes for the first time since you’ve saw her in the kitchen. And she replied, “…I won’t throw them away, dear.”

Only then did you let the paper go. And you reluctantly handed her the other sketch paper as well. She reached for it, and your hands brushed- not unlike you brushing your hand along her shoulder that past day. But now, she jerked her hand away like she was stung.

Holding the papers close to her chest, Patricia gave you one last glance, and walked out of the room- closing the door.

…She left the food tray on the floor with you- so you’ll be seeing them again soon when they retrieve it. Maybe you can ask one of the others what she did with the drawings? Or maybe she’ll come for the tray? ‘Wishful thinking…’

————————

Patricia POV:

She walked away from the door at a quickened pace, clutching the papers with fully detailed sketches on it- sketches of- of her. There was some sort of feeling she couldn’t shake.

Only when she reached her bed and placed the sketches on her nightstand, next to a post it note, did she realize something she had forgotten,

She sighed, thinking about the encounter, ‘I left the food tray in that room didn’t I?’

[rei-does-stuff]

Don’t be a coward.

France x America

This gives me an excuse to put my fic abt them here!

Context My France and America aren’t related like most other peoples hcs bc I’m an annoying contrarian

And I find the will they won’t they dynamic, friendly flirting between them a way funner dynamic, they aren’t together but they’re definitely at least a little into each other even if they won’t act on it

UK hates it bc hes hopelessly in love with france even tho she DOES NOT like him in the slightest like at all, like 0% like he is NEVER GONNA WIN HER EVER

Okay? Okay time for the bad fanfic now <3

—

Already the UK found this party atmosphere stifling, being a literal demon from hell usually had its perks but being the only who couldn’t get drunk wasn’t one of them. And god he wished he could drink away the sight before him.

“Oh Amé! You look ridiculous! Do you even know how to wear a tux properly? I swear the only thing you even know how to wear are those ugly sunglasses!” France teased.

“Ugly? Oh now you’re just insulting my poor heart! It’s very fragile, you know?” America said, feigning offense.

“Oh I bet, is that why you can’t even button your shirt properly?” France said as she went close to fix America’s clothes herself.

“Well if you have so many opinions maybe you should just dress me yourself?” America told her with a wink.

“Maybe I should, you’d look a lot better.”

“Oh so I already do look good?”

“Oh don’t flatter yourself, god knows your ego is big enough.” France laughed as she handed America a pocket mirror. “There we go, you look a million times better!”

“Well look at that! I guess ya have some talent!” America said as he looked at himself with France’s mirror.

“Don’t push your luck with me.”

“Oo scary! You could kill me that with that stare!” America teased.

“I hope I can, wipe that smug smile off your face for once!”

“Can’t help it with that priceless reaction of yours Frenchy! Why don’t I get you another glass of wine as a thank you gift? Hm?”

“Oh now you’re just trying to bribe me!” France scoffed.

“I didn’t hear a no!”

“Oh shut up! Hurry up, I don’t like waiting you know? Better make it two, as an apology for having to deal with you.”

“You got it baby!”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Can’t hear you, getting your wine!” America called out as he goes off to get France her wine. UK could have sworn he saw her smile a little.

As America went over to the bar he could see the UK glaring at him. “Woah, what’s with the scary look old man?” He asked.

“You did that on purpose didn’t you?”

“Did what?”

“Dress all ridiculous! You were trying to get her attention, that’s cheap even for you!” The UK said bitterly.

“Uh? Duh? It worked didn’t it? You sound angry man!” America almost immediately realized what was going on though. Surprising, for him. “Ohh right, you’re like really into France aren’t you? Oh you must’ve been pretty pissed huh? Ha! Oh man, I was wondering why you were creep-watching us you weirdo!” He laughed.

“You’re not funny.”

“She doesn’t think so! Oh don’t look at me like that, I’m not gonna do anything like THAT. I ain’t into French girls.” America said nonchalantly.

“So what’s even the point?”

“Uh? Because I’m a grown ass man who can do whatever the hell he wants. Plus knowing it pisses you makes me wanna do it even more? Maybe I should sleep with her now honestly….Relax! Relax! Stop death glaring at me I’m only kidding!”

“What the hell does she even see in you? You’re a mess!” The UK exclaimed.

“A hot, funny, charming mess! That’s my appeal! Sorry to say but most women aren’t into sad bitter old men dude.” America said.

“I can be charming!”

“Can you though? I mean even Germany can get a date and he’s not even into that crap!” America said, he looked back at France who looked like she was getting impatient. “Ah shit! Gotta run, look man, instead of sitting here brooding and watching us like a weirdo, try to do something! Or I dunno, maybe try getting with someone else cause she is INTO me!” He laughed as he left with the wine.

UK growled seeing them talking, but the twat’s words did kick in, probably wasn’t a good idea to keep staring at him, if he was gonna get France’s attention be was gonna have to try harder…

But for now the sight of them together was making him sick enough to leave, tomorrow though? He’d make sure that American stood no chance against him.

—

Basically UK gets cucked, the fic! Not that great but I haven’t written ch stuff in a bit so shhhhh

[blueiight]

i think you're a kircheis expert tbh 🤔 you don't always talk about him but i think you get him

i am so so flattered… kircheis is my baby😢😢i think its cuz like i watched the gaidens obsessively before moving onto s2 my first watcharound and the question rly lingered the more he haunted reinhard like ‘what kind of person would be able to be reinhard’s only companion’ (& all tht entails) for half of their lives? like we just rewatched swv today + its just 1 of many examples of how kircheis both operates as reinhard’s emotional support + physical brawn and being mocked as the ‘vassal’ the ‘help’ like letting that negative rep just glide off ur shoulders not only cuz reinhard also has neg rep but bc kircheis himself truly loves both reinhard and annerose..that true sense of devotion kircheis has is as moving as it is .. kinda scary. not to say in a bad way but its intense!! like what if our proposal was galactic conquest & we was 15 year olds in boarding school. and we never rly get to see kircheis’s answer to what was posed in the end of s1- the prospect of what his life could look like without this devotion/love . but love / gentility is so essential to who kircheis is too. kircheis is the only chara in a milsf ova thats motivated by that first & not ideology/ambition/conquest/loyalty to a shared cause or to a leader. like the cause is secondary to kircheis’s love. he was loyal to reinhard when they were boys with nothing. its like. its sad as it is moving.. i rly wanna get into dishonor again cuz i have so many thoughts on how kircheis is so uncomfortable bc love + devotion moved the characters hes investigating into doing seedy shit yet funny enough the events go down to where it just reinforces his determination to be the hearth to reinhard’s flame… god. im always fond of a gentle giant bc i am an ungentle giant myself.

[proxythe]

Hello dear mutual

I JUST WANTED TO TELL YOU I ADORE YOUR ART!!! Call me your biggest fan if u dont have one already /hj

Always wanted to interact w you more but!!! Interactions are scary!!! So I'm sticking w liking your art and rb.......

but honestly, you really inspired me, because im a transmasc and well, god gave me two big naturals and honestly, I don't want to chop them off!! so seeing your aki really help me feel way better :')

AGHH I WANTED TO TELL U THAT YEAH HAVE A GOOD DAY

and one last thing.... im really curious abt your hcs on akishinji or akihiko in general... so if you want to spare some..... no pressure though.... okay bye...

hiii ooomf 🙋

thank you sooo much for saying this 😭😭 no one has ever told me theyre my biggest fan before… im really flattered thank you so much!!

i also overthink interactions real bad but if you ever want to message me or anything, you can !! i would seriously love to talk to you !!!

and im also transmasc w a large god given chest and i think ive said probably both these things before but that is also why i like to draw and represent that!!! ill never get tired of showing these bodies thru my art 🫰it makes me really really appreciative and happy when people tell me this .. i am Certain ive said this before… but i never get tired of letting anyone who tells me that i am really grateful to be told that my art helps in any way.. it makes me really happy i could cry

finally…. for my hcs… lemme separate them so the post doesn’t look so cluttered

me hiding an underwhelming amount of hcs under this cut im so sorry oomf im really bad with headcanons for some reason but let me try to think if i have any lmfao

- i think them (literally) sleeping together is a big hc for them in general but that’s probably my favorite akishinji hc of All Time … it can do no wrong… its perfect…

- (more likely fits post canon/shinji living route) shinji being clingy asf is also one of my faves idk i think there’s just something in seeing him happy and shameless for once in his shit life 😭 getting hugs and physical contact he used to not think he deserves … i eat it up …

- aki being a cat person i think is a hc … it mostly came to me from pq when hes being so dramatic about koromaru licking him … he loves koro yes but i believe he is a cat person at heart … shinji is generally an animal lover but he’s also just a dog person

- p4au debunks this with that god awful design but i’ve always believed it: aki’s wardrobe is immaculate. guy is always dressed in some nice ass clothes and perfect style. ignoring p4au i also think aki would dress nice even in timeskip

- this is also popular methinks but them taking in ken and koromaru time skip is another that i basically just treat like its canon lmfaoo this one also is just perfect… does no wrong… amazing …

erm i think that’s all i can think of rn bc for some reason when someone asks me to specifically name hcs i kinda sorta forget every single one that’s ever entered my mind whether ive drawn it or even spoken it aloud … am i stupid ?

[souldivide]

art vent, kind of makes me look like a shallow person

FOR clarification i'm 20. turning 21 in two months. yippee! what an eye opener

the point of trying to profit your art, especially using your art to help fund for survival since you were 11 - you realize that while you want to improve your art for yourself, you're so consciously aware of what parts would appeal to strangers who see your art.

because you don't want to appeal to others to enjoy your art, you want to appeal to others to garner money and funds. i've ebegged on this site for almost a decade, on so many different accounts and even used my art as much as i could to get even more money. to pay bills, to pay for food, to help my mother in medical emergencies. since i was only 11 years old, by the way. a lot of the time, while it is a huge part of my reason to keep improving -- i don't actually think of reasons such as improving my art because 'i want to go to college' 'i want to be better' as much as my main reason being: i want this to sell to people.

that being said, my art style is something im so happy with right now for myself. but i think like. you have to really make your art your signature. that way, people will want to buy what you can give them. but algorithm is just, so hard to fight with now. the heartbreaking part is that, even if i'm at my 'peak' in art.

and my art has always been my one consistent interest, thats never faded. it's apart of my daily life. my routine, my medicine, my hobby, my enjoyment. i need this to live in many different ways. whether it be for providing my funds via commissions, coping art for trauma, or generally to express my happiness for things in my head, etc. i need this hobby or i will die. its the one skill ive had my entire life thats stuck, and its something i'm *good* at. and i've kept up with it to this day.

my art looks consistently good. flattering. i would say at some points it feels.. professional, sometimes. i am consistently proud and satisfied with my art and haven't struggled on pieces as much as i used to several years ago. it took me 2 months to come up with illustrations. now ive been pumping them out with ease. commissions are so much faster. quicker. ive really upgraded. i'm efficient, quick, and my stylization journey has been amazing.

yet..

this has been the hardest i've ever fucking struggled to make money, ever. since i was 11 years old. i've never.. had so much difficulty. i feel spoiled, honestly, when i know so many other artists struggle filling commissions too. but i've always had good fortune, i guess. good luck. but not since the year began. it's been so hard to fill in requests, so hard to fill slots. even when my prices are cheaper, it's still so hard. which is crazy, because 2 years ago i was consistently filling slots like crazy. i had consistent income, for the most part. i was able to help my family, avoid eviction, pay for water, clothes, food. emergencies like car wrecks, medical stuff -- god, its insane how much my art has helped me. it's scary. to think about what woulld happen if i didnt have this skill.

back then, like my art looked like this in 2021.

i look back and i wonder. this is fine, its definitely my art style. but how did i makee so much money off of stuff like this? so much more than i do now? i still draw fanart, and my art's been getting better. i think its honestly just bad luck, or maybe algorithm has flopped a lot of my stuff. either way, it's sort of humbling. Extremely humbling, that even with all this improvement - it still may not be enough to get me anywhere. i've never struggled before, trying to open commissions even when ive always focused on original content primarily. i know its hard to get popularity when you only draw ocs, but ive been fine for the most part. getting by, until lately.

i think i'll just have to keep working harder. see what people enjoy, but its just really ego crushingi think. And i could care less about popularity or anything. i think the really awful part is that im just stressed all the time about how i can keep making money off of this when its been so hard to even fill slots, let alone gaining peoples interests. Is this competition related? is this just a shit time for artists? am i just flopping. Who knows.. ohwell. ill survive

[zxnin]

Tag games! <3

Tagged by the lovely @sebfreak and @kedyanime ! Thank you for tagging me, this was fun !! Hope you guys are having a great day/night !! (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

tag game #1

rules: shuffle your “on repeat playlist” and list the first ten songs, then tag ten people

fiesty (remix) - Jhameel, Blue Satellite

I can't fix you - The Living Tombstone, Crusher P

Love & War - Yellow Claw, Yade Lauren

GimmexGimme - Hachioji P

Mind brand - Maretu

SIU - Maretu

METAMORPHOSIS - INTERWORLD

アイドル (IDOL) - YOASOBI

Shinunoga E-Wa - Fujii Kaze

夜に駆ける (racing into the night) - YOASOBI

Tag game #2

1. are you named after anyone? Yes, my real name is, kind of a religious thing so I won't go too into it :v

2. when was the last time you cried? ...a few weeks back :P

3. do you have kids? nope (and hopefully never-)

4. do you use sarcasm a lot? nope, just the right amount, probably?

5. what sports do you play/have you played? Me and sports don't go well together :') the closest thing I did to sports was swimming when I was younger.

6. what’s the first thing you notice about other people? Their eyes. It's a habit! My classmate who I was partnered up with in a lab had these gorgeous light brown eyes and...it became a habit since then :) (it's fascinating how much peoples' eyes can vary!)

7. what’s your eye color? Dark brown.

8. scary movies or happy endings? scary movies haha, I like a good spook that gives me an adrenaline rush. (even if I'm too much of a scaredy cat for it-)

9. any special talents? tbh I really don't know? I'm often told that I'm good at teaching I suppose?

10. where were you born? India.

11. what are your hobbies? drawing, editing and reading! I often jump from one hobby to another though, I like learning new things!

12. do you have any pets? Yes, a blue betta fish named gojo ;) it was previously white and it changed its colour to blue!

13. how tall are you? 5'2 (158 cm)

14. favourite subject? Biology!! The subject really grew on me after 12th grade because of my biology teacher, she's amazing :)

15. dream job? I simply don't dream of labour <3 but if I had to choose I would love to be an illustrator or concept artist!

Tag game #3

uquiz: Which two Greek gods are your parents?

(well, I'm flattered huhu~)

tagging: anyone who wants to join in ! 💖

[ditchwaterwitchery]

1. Are you solitary or in a coven?

I’m solitary. I often practice with or share rituals with my practicing friends and housemates, but I’ve had extremely bad second-hand experiences with covens and 

2. Do you consider yourself  Wiccan, Pagan, witch, or other?

Is a pagan witch really that extra? 

3. What is your zodiac sign?

Aries/Cancer/Leo

4. Do you have a Patron God/dess?

Not… really? I have deities I favor, those I work with often, but I worship too many deities to really go 'I love this one the most!' Historically that has not gone well for the human so I worship with as much equity as possible. 

5. Do you work with a Pantheon?

Yes. 

6. Do you use tarot, palmistry, or 
any other kind of divination?

I do use tarot and other cartomancy, runes, Ogham, candle-gazing, basically whatever takes me on the day. I definitely favor divinatory magics. 

7. What are some of your favorite herbs to use in your practice? (if any)

Rosemary and mint, honestly. Lavender and juniper are also used quite a lot, but I'll put rosemary into literally whatever because I equate it with a little kick of power and I'm never confident enough in my power that I'll turn up my nose at a lil boost, and mint has childhood memories of soothing or calming so I use it for spell aftercare. 

8. How would you define your craft?

I'm a ditchwater witch. I use what I have, whether or not its 'icky'. I collect what people might consider scum and turn it back into something beautiful. I surge after the rain and dwindle away into nothing when I'm not of use. My craft is for finding purpose for unwanted things. 

9. Do you curse? If not, do you accept others who do?

I sure do. 

10. How long have you been practicing?

Formally? Since 2014. But my heart has always been in the earth. 

11. Do you currently or have you ever had any familiars? 

No. 

12. Do you believe in Karma or
Reincarnation?

Not specifically. I believe in past lives, absolutely. Energy has to go somewhere. 

13. Do you have a magical name?

I mean, all names are magical names, but not a specific one, no. 

14. Are you “out of the broom closet”?

Oh very. I was never really in it, tbh. I just went straight to losing all my family and friends because I didn't want to be Catholic anymore. 

15. What was the last spell you performed?

Protection and rejuvenation for a friend. 

16. Would you consider yourself knowledgeable?

No, I'm a student. 

17. Do you write your own spells?

Pretty much exclusively. I've never met a spell I didn't tweak heavily, even my own. 

18. Do you have a book of shadows?
If so, how is it written and/or set up? 

I have grimoirë? Over a dozen notebooks I've compiled, rewritten, and reconstructed over the years and consult almost daily. 

19. Do you worship nature? 

That seems to be everyone's favorite gateway, yes. 

20. What is your favorite gemstone?

Luminous stones from Breath of the Wild, lol.

Amethyst, seriously. Its been my favorite since a grandparent brought me a hunk from Canada when I was a child. 

21. Do you use feathers, claws, fur, pelt, skeletons/bones, or any other animal body part for magical work?

Oh boy do I. 

22. Do you have an altar?

4 of them.  

23. What is your preferred element?

My edgy gut wanted to answer fire but I work with earth the most, gotta respect the mother. 

24. Do you consider yourself an Alchemist?

I am not smart or scary enough for alchemy. 

25. Are you any other type of magical practitioner besides a witch?

No, I like witch/pagan (yes I know they are not interchangeable, but they are for my practice).

26. What got you interested in witchcraft?

My friend told me I reminded them of a witch and I was flattered. A decision to research just put the nails in the coffin. 

27. Have you ever performed a spell or ritual with the company of anyone who was not a witch?

Sure. 

28. Have you ever used ouija?

No, but I've been looking for one that I like that isn't expensive. May end up making one so I know the provence of the pieces. 

29. Do you consider yourself a psychic?

Sure. 

30. Do you have a spirit guide? If so, what is it?

My great grandfather. He taught me how to pray and how to love the deity(is) you worship and how to serve the earth while he was on the earth, and now he guides my hands. 

31. What is something you wish someone had told you when you first started?

You don't need anything other than yourself to be a witch. 

32. Do you celebrate the Sabbats? If so which one is your favorite?

No, but Bealtaine is my favorite. 

33. Would you ever teach witchcraft to your children?

I won't be having children, but I will teach my friends'. 

34. Do you meditate?

No. Its painful for me. 

35. What is your favorite season?

Autumn 

36. What is your favorite type of magick to preform?

Divination. I like understanding why. 

37. How do you incorporate your spirituality into your daily life? 

I use tarot every day, I pray, I cook, I breathe. All of it is spiritual. All of it is sacred. 

38. What is your favorite witchy movie?

I don't have one

39. What is your favorite witchy book, both fiction and non-fiction. Why?

Seanan McGuire's October Daye series is my current favorite magical fiction. Rev. Lora O'Brien's Practical Guide to Pagan Priesthood is my favorite nonfiction.

I read Seanan McGuire when I want to remember why ritual is important to my outSIDE of the Clerical Brainwashing. I read the Reverend when I want to know how, and that I'm allowed to want this. 

40. What is the first spell you ever preformed? Successful or not. 

Oh, I cursed one of my abusers. 

41. What’s the craziest witchcraft-related thing that’s happened to you? 

I'm still surprised when anything works, honestly. A lifetime of Catholic impotism really ran a number on my head and it's still surprising when someone hears my prayers. 

42. What is your favourite type of candle to use?

One I've made. 

43. What is your favorite witchy tool?

My bead weaving loom. 

44. Do you or have you ever made your own witchy tools?

I do, yeah. I tend to be of the opinion that something works best for the hands that made it. 

45. Have you ever worked with any magical creatures such as the fea or spirits?

Yep. 

46. Do you practice color magic?

Not really. Sometimes when I'm making candles, but not often. 

47. Do you or have you ever had a witchy teacher or mentor of any kind?

No. I'm… wary of teachers. 

48. What is your preferred way of shopping for witchcraft supplies?

Shopping for the ingredients to make those supplies. 

49. Do you believe in predestination or fate?

Sometimes. My faith in fate is shaky, but there have been times a person or thing was too timely to discount. 

50. What do you do to reconnect   when you are feeling out of touch with your practice? 

I read, mostly. Its the best thing to rekindle my whimsy and drive to do. 

51. Have you ever had any supernatural experiences?

Absolutely. 

52. What is your biggest witchy pet peeve?

Stinky incense. 'sandalwood' my ass. 

53. Do you like incense? If so what’s your favorite scent?

Oh, hi. I was just talking about you. I like Celtic blend church incense. 

54. Do you keep a dream journal of any kind?

I've tried, but my ADHD hates journaling. 

55. What has been your biggest witchcraft disaster?

I consider losing my entire family and many of my friends to be disastrous, but nothing correlated to my spellcasting or anything. 

56. What has been your biggest witchcraft success?

Self confidence. 

57. What in your practice do you do that you may feel silly or embarrassed about?

I've always like crossing myself. I turned the sign of the cross into a pentagram and I use it when I need to, but I don't want anyone to see me doing it. 

58. Do you believe that you can be an atheist, Christian, Muslim or some other faith and still be a witch too?

Absolutely. 

59. Do you ever feel insecure, unsure or even scared of spell work?

No. 

60. Do you ever hold yourself to a standard in your witchcraft that you feel you may never obtain?

Yes. 

61. What is something witch related that you want right now?

Like 400 tarot decks, a 3d printer, and my goddamn hat back. 

62. What is your rune of choice?

Ansuz

63. What is your tarot card of choice?

The Star

64. Do you use essential oils? If so what is your favorite?

A lovely cardamom cedar blend. 

65. Have you ever taken any kind of witchcraft or pagan courses?

No, the ones I can afford are too hard for my mental illnesses to pay attention to. My learning tends to have to be done hands-on. 

66. Do you wear pagan jewelry in public?

Remember those bones you asked after about 45 questions ago? 

67. Have you ever been discriminated against because of your faith or being a witch? 

I was diagnosed with 'religious delusions' by my former therapist, as an example.

68. Do you read or subscribe to any pagan magazines?

No. I'd like to. 

69. Do you think it’s important to know the history of paganism and witchcraft?

Yes???? At least a little? So we don't have 'daughters of the witches you didn't burn' memes. 

70. What are your favorite things about being a witch?

Oh gods, everything. I'm in religious euphoria for the first time in my life I feel like a new man every day. 

71. What are your least favorite things about being a witch?

Knowing that if I do the work I'll feel better. I just want to rest my hurts on my best day, and showing up for my responsibilities is fucking impossible on my worst. 

72. Do you listen to any pagan music? If so who is your favorite singer/band?

I fell in love with Heather Dale years ago, and she's remained a constant. 

73. Do you celebrate the Esbbats? If so, how?

The esbats are wiccan iirc. I don't follow wicca. 

74. Do you ever work skyclad?

No thank you. 

75. Do you think witchcraft has improved your life? If so, how?

Absolutely. It made me want to live my life. 

76. Where do you draw inspiration from for your practice?

What, like Pinterest boards?  I just do things, this is not an aesthetic I'm trying to achieve. 

77. Do you believe in ‘fantasy’ creatures? (Unicorns, fairies, elves, gnomes, ghosts, etc)

Yes. 

78. What’s your favorite sigil/symbol?

I…sure. My favorite sigil is the one for peaceful rest. 

79. Do you use blood magick in your practice? Why or why not?

If what I'm doing calls for it, yes. 

80. Could you ever be in a relationship with someone who doesn’t support your practice?

No. I support my partner's spirituality and I consider it the least of things for them to do the same. 

81. In what area or subject would you most like your craft to grow?

Everywhere. I'm not enough as I am and I feel like learning how to be enough is taking too long. 

82. What’s your favorite candle scent? Do you use it in your practice?

Its been discontinued, but I think it was called like 'Turkish marketplace' or something equally as tone-deaf by better homes. My favorite to make and then use in my craft is lemongrass. 

83. Do you have a pre-ritual ritual? (I.e. Something you do before rituals to prepare yourself for them). If so what is it? 

I shower, yeah, if its not a curse I'm doing. If it is, I shower after, but for everything else I want to be clean when I put my energy into something. 

84. What real life witch most inspires your practice?

?? breelandwalker  ig???? Idk, I have the most of her books over other things so if that's what you mean by 'real life' or 'inspire' then there you go. 

85. What is your favorite method of communicating with deity?

Divination and prayer. 

86. How do you like to organize all your witchy items and ingredients?

By most to least used. 

87. Do you have any witches in your family that you know of?

I mean the largest amount of my heritage is Irish and Kickapoo so its not impossible, but not that I personally know of. 

88. How have you created your path? What is unique about it?

I'm having a hard time answering this without feeling like I'm posturing. 'It's the MOST unique and special' 😬😬

 I write my own prayers and spells and whatnot. 

89. Do you feel you have any natural gifts or affinities (premonitions, hearing spirits, etc.) that led you toward the craft? If so what are they?

I mean, I've been seeing ghosts and feeling presences my whole life, but it drove me further away from my craft when I was still Catholic rather than leading me to it. 

90. Do you believe you can initiate yourself or do you have to be initiated by another witch or coven?

You're a witch if you goddamn want to be one no one gets to tell you when you're allowed to do magic

91. When you first started out in your path what was the first thing or things you bought?

A tarot deck and notebooks

92. What is the most spiritual or magickal place you’ve been?

The coldspring at Nitchke Mounds. 

93. What’s one piece of advice you’d give someone who is searching for their matron and patron deities?

Divorce yourself from the notion that only one or two gods want you. Walk away from the idea that you only get so many. There are a lot of deities and spirits and I don't understand why people are so attached to limiting themselves. 

94. What techniques do you use to ‘get in the zone’ for meditation? 

I don't meditate. 

95. Did visualization come easily to you or did you have to practice at it?

I read a lot. Like a lot. My imagination is better than my grasp of reality. 

96. Do you prefer day or night? Why?

Night. Its  safe there. 

97. What do you think is the best time and place to do spell work?

3am 

98. How did you feel when you cast your first circle? Did you stumble or did it go smoothly?

Oh, I loved it. I really liked casting circles, but it quickly became a waste of time, so now I have permanent ones. 

99. Do you believe witchcraft gets easier with time and practice?

It gets different for sure. 

100. Do you believe in many gods or one God with many faces?  

I believe that as long as there have been people there has been the desire to believe in something bigger than us. Is it one thing, or has it split into many over time? I don't know. 

101. Do you eat meat, eggs and dairy?

I'm allergic to dairy but yes. 

102. What is your favorite color and why?

Purple, why? 

103. What is the one question you get asked most by non-practitioners or non-pagans? How do you usually respond?

Are you sure? Yes. 

104. Which of your five senses would you say is your strongest? 

Feeling, but that's just because my ears are shot, I'm more nearsighted every year, I have very little sense of taste, and I need my scents to be overpowering in order to register. 

105. What is a pagan or witchcraft rule that you preach but don’t practice?

The only rule I preach is the one I practice hardest: not everything is for you to play with  I have no right to preach anything else

Witchcraft Asks #1-105

Here is the list of the 105 witchcraft questions I just finished answering. I answered one each day but feel free to answer them all at once or however you want to do it. Tag your it!

1. Are you solitary or in a coven? 2. Do you consider yourself Wiccan, Pagan, witch, or other? 3. What is your zodiac sign? 4. Do you have a Patron God/dess? 5. Do you work with a Pantheon? 6. Do you use tarot, palmistry, or 
any other kind of divination? 7. What are some of your favorite herbs to use in your practice? (if any) 8. How would you define your craft? 9. Do you curse? If not, do you accept others who do? 10. How long have you been practicing? 11. Do you currently or have you ever had any familiars? 12. Do you believe in Karma or
Reincarnation? 13. Do you have a magical name? 14. Are you “out of the broom closet”? 15. What was the last spell you performed? 16. Would you consider yourself knowledgeable? 17. Do you write your own spells? 18. Do you have a book of shadows?
If so, how is it written and/or set up? 19. Do you worship nature? 20. What is your favorite gemstone? 21. Do you use feathers, claws, fur, pelt, skeletons/bones, or any other animal body part for magical work? 22. Do you have an altar? 23. What is your preferred element? 24. Do you consider yourself an Alchemist? 25. Are you any other type of magical practitioner besides a witch? 26. What got you interested in witchcraft? 27. Have you ever performed a spell or ritual with the company of anyone who was not a witch? 28. Have you ever used ouija? 29. Do you consider yourself a psychic? 30. Do you have a spirit guide? If so, what is it? 31. What is something you wish someone had told you when you first started? 32. Do you celebrate the Sabbats? If so which one is your favorite? 33. Would you ever teach witchcraft to your children? 34. Do you meditate? 35. What is your favorite season? 36. What is your favorite type of magick to preform? 37. How do you incorporate your spirituality into your daily life? 38. What is your favorite witchy movie? 39. What is your favorite witchy book, both fiction and non-fiction. Why? 40. What is the first spell you ever preformed? Successful or not. 41. What’s the craziest witchcraft-related thing that’s happened to you? 42. What is your favourite type of candle to use? 43. What is your favorite witchy tool? 44. Do you or have you ever made your own witchy tools? 45. Have you ever worked with any magical creatures such as the fea or spirits? 46. Do you practice color magic? 47. Do you or have you ever had a witchy teacher or mentor of any kind? 48. What is your preferred way of shopping for witchcraft supplies? 49. Do you believe in predestination or fate? 50. What do you do to reconnect when you are feeling out of touch with your practice? 51. Have you ever had any supernatural experiences? 52. What is your biggest witchy pet peeve? 53. Do you like incense? If so what’s your favorite scent? 54. Do you keep a dream journal of any kind? 55. What has been your biggest witchcraft disaster? 56. What has been your biggest witchcraft success? 57. What in your practice do you do that you may feel silly or embarrassed about? 58. Do you believe that you can be an atheist, Christian, Muslim or some other faith and still be a witch too? 59. Do you ever feel insecure, unsure or even scared of spell work? 60. Do you ever hold yourself to a standard in your witchcraft that you feel you may never obtain? 61. What is something witch related that you want right now? 62. What is your rune of choice? 63. What is your tarot card of choice? 64. Do you use essential oils? If so what is your favorite? 65. Have you ever taken any kind of witchcraft or pagan courses? 66. Do you wear pagan jewelry in public? 67. Have you ever been discriminated against because of your faith or being a witch? 68. Do you read or subscribe to any pagan magazines? 69. Do you think it’s important to know the history of paganism and witchcraft? 70. What are your favorite things about being a witch? 71. What are your least favorite things about being a witch? 72. Do you listen to any pagan music? If so who is your favorite singer/band? 73. Do you celebrate the Esbbats? If so, how? 74. Do you ever work skyclad? 75. Do you think witchcraft has improved your life? If so, how? 76. Where do you draw inspiration from for your practice? 77. Do you believe in ‘fantasy’ creatures? (Unicorns, fairies, elves, gnomes, ghosts, etc) 78. What’s your favorite sigil/symbol? 79. Do you use blood magick in your practice? Why or why not? 80. Could you ever be in a relationship with someone who doesn’t support your practice? 81. In what area or subject would you most like your craft to grow? 82. What’s your favorite candle scent? Do you use it in your practice? 83. Do you have a pre-ritual ritual? (I.e. Something you do before rituals to prepare yourself for them). If so what is it? 84. What real life witch most inspires your practice? 85. What is your favorite method of communicating with deity? 86. How do you like to organize all your witchy items and ingredients? 87. Do you have any witches in your family that you know of? 88. How have you created your path? What is unique about it? 89. Do you feel you have any natural gifts or affinities (premonitions, hearing spirits, etc.) that led you toward the craft? If so what are they? 90. Do you believe you can initiate yourself or do you have to be initiated by another witch or coven? 91. When you first started out in your path what was the first thing or things you bought? 92. What is the most spiritual or magickal place you’ve been? 93. What’s one piece of advice you’d give someone who is searching for their matron and patron deities? 94. What techniques do you use to ‘get in the zone’ for meditation? 95. Did visualization come easily to you or did you have to practice at it? 96. Do you prefer day or night? Why? 97. What do you think is the best time and place to do spell work? 98. How did you feel when you cast your first circle? Did you stumble or did it go smoothly? 99. Do you believe witchcraft gets easier with time and practice? 100. Do you believe in many gods or one God with many faces? 101. Do you eat meat, eggs and dairy? 102. What is your favorite color and why? 103. What is the one question you get asked most by non-practitioners or non-pagans? How do you usually respond? 104. Which of your five senses would you say is your strongest? 105. What is a pagan or witchcraft rule that you preach but don’t practice?

[jodilin65]

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 30, 2012 I hate both my uncles. Always have, always will. As a child, I tried to love them and I tried to find some good in them, but I couldn’t even like them. I did what most children do and tried to win their approval, though it was to no avail. Why they never seemed to like me, especially my mother’s brother Ronnie, was never anything I could understand. As a child, I felt hurt. As a young adult, I was curious as to what they could possibly have against me, though I assumed it had to do with my pranksterish ways and the labels my mom just loved to slap on me in hopes of gaining sympathy and attention on account of it. As an older adult, I didn’t give a shit. I only knew that had my uncles waited till I was around 25 to treat me the way they did as a child, they would have ended up in the hospital while I’d have gone straight to jail.

I remember being kinda pissed for Tammy when she said that although she ignored it, Ronnie would give her dirty looks every chance he got when they met up at Larry’s house when his son died in 1997. And all for something that might’ve happened what, 25 years ago? It’s scary how long one can hold a grudge over the dumbest of things. I know my cousin Polly, who I haven’t even seen since I was 19, still resents me for the prank calls I made to her bastard father Marty (my dad’s brother) in 1989. Calls that have long since been owned up to and apologized for. I regret apologizing, though. Am I really sorry for the few measly pranks I pulled on the bastard who once terrorized and threatened me as a 15-year-old child? Even his own mother who was living with us at the time was terrified out of her mind.

Is hanging onto Tammy really the right thing? Or should I just let her go and be done with the whole damn family forever? I guess only time will tell. But I decided to do what was best for me and not worry about how others may react. If I decide to let go and she has a hard time dealing with it and accepting it and feels she has to resort to childish harassment, that’s her problem, not mine. I’m not going to worry anymore about who can or can’t respect my decision to either stick around or go my own way, but as long as I am accepted as I am without being accused of lying and without anyone trying to push, change or control me, then there’s little else that could drive me away. Maybe if you pester me with 20 messages a day and then take a shit fit if I don’t reply to each and every one the instant you send them, or if you lie (and I don’t mean a little white lie as a joke) or try to rip me off I’d be tempted to split, but otherwise, there’s no need to.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 29, 2012 It may come as a surprise, but guess who’s got her first REAL dentist appointment in years scheduled for next Wednesday?! Yeah, even I’m kind of like, wow, really? God must be pissed. You know, the one who didn’t think I even deserved to be insured for – what was it – about 8 years? Well, if He’s up there – tough! I’m going to finally do something about the pain I have endured since 2004. Tom scheduled his sexist wife with a female dentist. :) He’s such a sweetie. :)

By 8:30 this morning, they were already sawing away up at the summit. It’s to be in the mid to upper 90s from now through Tuesday, so I don’t expect to hear much for long other than the Jes pest roaring in and out on its motorcycle half a dozen times during the day.

Still not sure what language to study next. I did a poll on FB asking if it should be French, Urdu, Latvian or Hawaiian. I’d go for the Hawaiian but LM doesn’t have that course available yet. I’d have to learn bits and pieces on YouTube which isn’t the way I’d prefer to learn.

I shared the first chapter of a story I started with Nane and Alison, so we’ll see if I hear back from them. Well, I know I’ll get feedback from Alison, but Nane will probably be too busy.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 28, 2012 I was flattered to receive a message from Nane saying she’d been thinking about me and to also see that she spent 20 minutes on my blog. :)

My diagram muscles no longer feel like someone took a bat to them and I only sneezed 10 times today instead of 100, so I’m not doing too bad right now.

I entered to win a beauty basket from Yves Rocher, who I haven’t ordered from in ages since they stopped selling my 3 favorite perfumes. Browsing their site, though, is a reminder of just how much French I really do know. I just can’t pull it out of thin air on my own if I wanted to say something in French, and can only understand some of it if I read it or hear it. Maybe I’ll enroll in LM’s French courses if we ever move.

But that’s just the thing. Will we ever move??? Every time we find what appears to be a great deal we always discover a nasty catch with it. Last night it was an updated doublewide with the perfect amount of space for just 5K on a lot that rents for $500 a month. But then the ad went on to say the backyard was perfect for a dog, which pretty much tells me that particular park allows people to just toss them outdoors and forget about them.

Tom seemed a bit annoyed with my reluctance at first, but as I reminded him, barking, screaming kids and car stereos are what we’re supposed to be avoiding. So why defeat the purpose and take a place that has “dog hangouts” which suggests that while they may limit the size and number of dogs you can have, they don’t care what you do with them or who it may affect?

Then Tom checked the place out by satellite and OMG! Not only did the roof look absolutely horrible, but the back of it ran alongside a bunch of cramped duplexes. There was a thin block wall between the places, but even he agreed it wouldn’t be worth it. The duplexes may not allow dogs, but that doesn’t mean they couldn’t have friends visiting with dogs, barbecues, parties, screaming kids, etc. There were also a couple of basketball hoops – right on the street, believe it or not – and any loud car stereos, house stereos or those with drums, bass guitars and shit like that would be heard in the place very easily. There were no dogs allowed in the duplex we lived in up in Oregon, but God just had to see to it that this bitch moved in next to us with a service dog that the management company couldn’t say no to. So why wouldn’t we “happen” to get some extremes and exceptions there, too?

The hunt for the right place may be going frustratingly slow, but all the while our savings is building up and up and up.

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 27, 2012 “I can’t live like this anymore,” I told Tom yesterday through one of my scattered sneezing fits. He agrees. So we’re going to schedule appointments for both my teeth and allergies. We can’t keep waiting on a move that may never happen or that may not happen for many months.

Allergies are now whipping my ass every 4-10 days and it’s really interfering with my day-to-day life. Severe allergies are much like the common cold, so to have to stop what I’m doing to blow my nose or because I get hit with a sneezing fit really gets to be a bit much. It’s all I can do at times to keep from taking a frying pan and smashing my fucking nose right off my face. If it were once a month I could live with it, but this is getting to be an average of every week. First the sneezing and runny nose interfere with my work, then I get all drowsy and knocked out by the allergy pills I take which don’t help that much anyway.

I slept forever last night (12 hours) and awoke several times feeling like cotton balls had been jammed inside my mouth.

Sleeping 12 hours has its pros and cons. If I could do it every day instead of the usual 8 hours, I could probably lose weight without nearly starving myself to death. But the longer I sleep the more likely I am to wake up with lower back pain.

Although I have a bit of a Benadryl hangover, I should be able to work out today, nose pincher-free, as well as get some work done around here. Maybe some story writing too, though I don’t expect to be very sociable online.

It’s going to be in the low to mid-90s all week. That will help restrict the Jes pest’s outdoor hours to early mornings. Once it stops reaching 80° he’s going to be outside working on shit all day long. I had really hoped to be gone by November, but it doesn’t look that way at this point.

The two times during the year you’re most likely to hear chainsaws are now when they’re cutting for firewood and in the late spring after the last of the rain. It’s important to trim back any trees that can be potential fire hazards during the long dry summer ahead.

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 26, 2012 I’m really disappointed in Maliheh. Yesterday I sent her a message containing the latest journal entries just to see if she’d care enough to send a simple message in response to all I’ve been going through, even if it was just a simple “I’m sorry” or “Hope you feel better soon.” TIP shows she picked it up, but I got absolutely nothing in response from her. Some friend she’s turned out to be, huh? Well, this time I totally mean it when I say I’m going to make her wait on me if I ever hear from her again.

I really think she just wanted to buddy up to me, IDK, maybe so she could feel a little better about herself and like she was making up for the past at least somewhat, and so she could help see to it that her name was left out of my book, then maybe she planned to not so much as dump me but slowly drift away in the end. Well, guess who’s going to drift along with her?

When I’m actually chatting with Maliheh she makes me think she really does care. But when I don’t hear from her for so long and she ignores messages I know she picked up, it really makes me think she’s only hanging onto me to keep me from mentioning her in my blog and things like that.

No more “poking” or messaging Christiane either for the same reasons. She’s just not a true friend.

My Reading reader returned this morning. Looks like they may’ve bookmarked my blog. They were in for an hour 3 days ago, 10 minutes yesterday, and just 28 seconds today. Because today’s visit was so rushed, maybe they’ll return later. It could be a friend of a friend from VH, but I really get the feeling it’s someone I know. Well, if it’s not Larry or Jennifer, then who could it be? Someone connected to extended family or family friends?

Later…

Tom got his first summons for jury duty since being here in Cali. I guess you don’t have to go to court on a set day and time and you just call in instead. I still can’t believe they just randomly pull people off the street for that. Okay, so I know they’re screened somewhat, but it still seems weird. Judges aren’t pulled at random, and lawyers aren’t pulled at random, so why are jury members? I would think they’d hire people to do that full-time and that that would be a full-time career for some people.

I looked at our 5-cast and wow. It really does seem to get warmer and dryer each year. We usually have to shut windows at night by late August. Yet here it is almost October and we’ve only shut them a few nights. But high 95°, low 61°? Love it! I do miss the rain a bit, though.

Even though it’s still pretty summery out, I’m starting to hear more of the Jes pest in the early mornings. He was hammering something up there at 8:30 this morning, so I heard when I was near the open kitchen window. This cock would be just as big of a nightmare to have living a few feet away from me as were the pack of freeloaders we had to deal with in Arizona.

I was wrong in assuming the application Tom filled out was just to get into the park. It was actually for financing for any park-owned models we may want. If we got something that wasn’t as nice we could buy it outright, but if we want something nicer we’ll have to make payments. Hopefully, the fact that we haven’t heard back from them yet is a good thing. Wouldn’t they tell us “no way” right away? If it turns out they rejected us but were too lazy to call and tell us, I don’t want to do business with them. Tom’s going to call them next week if he doesn’t hear anything this week.

Got hit with yet another allergy attack. As soon as I woke up I knew it was going to be a bad day given how stuffy my nose was. I scrambled to work out and do a bit of cleaning before the allergy pill I took could knock me out as it did for a few hours. I clamped my nose with pinchers I used to wear when swimming so I wouldn’t go sneezing all over the treadmill, but this is ridiculous. Just fucking ridiculous! Tom thinks I’m allergic to some plant or animal here in these woods and that once we leave I’ll be ok. Yeah, well, I’ll believe it when I see it. So far, though, Oregon’s the only place I’ve lived where my allergies weren’t an issue.

Maybe I’ll feel up to doing a little cooking and even doing my nails and using the Zud I ordered by mail that I couldn’t find in stores to easily clean tea and coffee stains from my mugs. Nothing else works so well!

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 25, 2012 Gross! A skunk sprayed really close to the house. I’ve got incense going in the bedroom and kitchen. What the hell is so close to the house that it just had to go and spray?

Anyway, I’m still kinda pissed, but I feel better today. I guess it was just digesting and accepting the initial news that got to me, but now that I’ve had time to think and sleep and think some more, there’s no sense in staying upset over things I cannot change. Doesn’t mean it’s right, doesn’t mean it’s fair, doesn’t mean I like it, doesn’t mean I’ll forgive my parents, especially my mom; it just means I accept that they were who they were – a couple of phony people who felt the need to put on a show throughout life instead of being who they were. If there’s an afterlife I hope they know just how UNproud of them I am. Even Tom said he didn’t realize just how important image was to them until now. They fooled an awful lot of people. Did they think they’d never die one day and that the truth would never be exposed? Did they think no one would find out they weren’t the rich people they wanted the world to think they were and that while they drove their fancy cars they were in debt and struggling their asses off, especially in the end?

Tom said the only thing he feels bad for them about is how they had to endure the stress of keeping up the false façade for so many years. I don’t feel bad for them at all, though. They made their own bed so it was only right that they lie in it. Besides, no amount of suffering could compare to the suffering I did in Valleyhead as well as right under their roof.

What I don’t get is why image was so important to them. Why couldn’t they just be themselves and not worry about who thought what? But it’s true, image was everything to them. Whenever we’d visit each other they saw what I was wearing and not the person behind the clothes. I was a skirt that may’ve been too short and a shirt that may’ve been too tight. I was never just Jodi.

They’re part of the reason why I have such an I-don’t-give-a-shit-what-people-think attitude. Besides, I’m smart enough to know that not everyone’s going to like us no matter what walk of life we come from and no matter what we look like. People can hate you if you’re rich same as if you’re poor. They can hate you if you’re pretty as much as they can hate you if you’re ugly.

I anonymously asked half a dozen or so people on Ask what they thought of the 40% thing and the majority said they would be grateful for what they got. As Tom pointed out, they don’t have anything anyway. 40% of nothing is the same as 60% of nothing. Tom thinks I’ll probably get 2-3 grand. Well, at least that will pay for most of what we’ll want for the new house and then it won’t have to come out of our own savings even if he’ll continue to make a lot of money and our expenses will be lower.

I can just imagine all the stories they told in life! Hey, I always knew they were liars, just not the extent of it. “They brainwashed a lot of people,” I said to Tom.

“No, they fooled a lot of people,” he said. “Like with Judy mentioning an art collection. She had to have gotten that from somewhere as people don’t just pull something like that out of nowhere. Your parents had to have said something to make her think that.”

Well, I don’t think it ever existed. Obviously, that was another lie unless they once had something like it and sold it off to pay their debts and keep the false façades going. That’s why I didn’t understand Tammy being so pissed about Judy mentioning it. How is Judy to know what’s true and what’s not after they lived a lie for so damn long that so many people bought into? Yet she insisted she wanted to “get things off her chest” to Judy because Judy has a big mouth. “Nothing at all against Andy, but she needs to learn to keep her fucking mouth shut.”

I understand that Judy can sometimes resort to gossiping a bit too much same as my mother did as well as Charlotte and the whole damn bunch, but Judy’s just a sweet old lady who doesn’t mean any harm as far as I’m concerned. Yet Tammy says she never liked her and something about something she supposedly did a while back was “the final straw.” Something I don’t know about and that she wouldn’t tell me about. Personally, I don’t want to know anyway cuz it has nothing to do with me. As I also told her, I don’t know Judy’s address or phone number, not that I’d give her this info if I did know it. She asked about Andy and was glad to hear he was doing really well. All I told her was that they were in neighboring condos and Judy’s was up for sale.

Another thing she said (this one really shocked me) was that Mom and Charlotte’s friendship never ended. Really? But I could’ve sworn I was told mom dumped her several years ago.

Later…

Andy said I shouldn’t have accepted Molly’s apology, she doesn’t mean it, and I should’ve just deleted her questions.

Yeah, he’s probably right. She’s “apologized” before and never meant it. I’m surprised there were no questions from her yesterday.

It just hit me that it could be Jennifer. I hope it is. Then she can know exactly how I feel about her. Well, not about her so much as about her getting any money. But as far as Jennifer herself goes; she never did anything to me, so I have nothing against her.

I checked FB and saw that she went to college sort of near Reading where I got a visitor from. I noticed that she dropped her last name and is now going by just Jennifer Lynn, like she didn’t want to be associated with her last name. Can’t say I blame her!

I realize that I may’ve come across as rather harsh where Jennifer is concerned and given the impression that I’m angry with her or that I have anything against her. I don’t. She never did anything wrong to me. She did not ask or demand to be included in my parents’ will either, so to be angry at her would be both unfounded and pointless. To give her 15% may be a bit much and perhaps 5% would’ve been more reasonable, but as Tammy said, I am getting the majority of the money. She and Larry aren’t getting any at all, though Tammy is doing well and has stated she doesn’t want it.

I don’t feel bad for Jennifer’s father, though I feel bad for her because of her father. He was an absentee dad for quite a bit of her childhood, and I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if he became a stranger to her in adulthood.

First she lost her brother whom Larry favored being that he was both male and firstborn and I felt so bad for Jennifer because of it. I felt bad for Sandy, too. Sandy was always such a sweetheart. Yet Larry made both Sandy and Jennifer seem like second best. I don’t have to be a genius to know that he wouldn’t have taken it nearly as hard had it been Jennifer who was killed instead.

Secondly, she’s gotta feel awkward as hell over the fact that her father has “dated” minors and has thrown away his wonderful wife and daughter as if they were yesterday’s news. How ashamed and embarrassed for him she must be! Her future “step-mom,” assuming they really do get even dumber and tie the knot, is nearly a decade younger than her. Her “half-brother” will be nearly 3 decades younger. That’s gotta seem weird as hell!

Later…

I was going to post 10-20 pages a day of old journals on my-diary and LJ but found that to be a bit much. Then I decided on just a few pages a day, figuring no one would read them anyway, but I thought wrong. I was flattered to learn that a guy close to my age in San Diego finds it rather interesting to see what he was doing around the same time on the other side of the country, so I’ll keep on posting them. It just may not be as fast as I’d like.

He read about Valleyhead, researched it and found discussions about it. He agrees it sounds pretty fucking awful, and says he can relate to a lot of what I went through.

I’m also flattered to know, on another site, that I’m an inspiration for someone who has resumed their own writing. That’s quite a compliment! She’s a 34-year-old woman in Missouri and has already spent 3 hours on my blog.

“Guten Morgen. Wie geht es Dir,” I surprised Tammy with this morning when I called her. She knows I’ve learned quite a bit of German, but probably wasn’t expecting that, LOL. She’s still packing up the condo and finding it strange and creepy as hell being in there by herself. It’s still weird to me to know I just talked to them both less than a year ago and they were still with it and all that. sighs So sad in itself, but still infuriating to learn what I have learned the more their masks are peeled off.

The funeral is Sunday, so she’s got 4 days to fry the bitch. Mark and the kiddy lover will be down at the end of the week. Next Wednesday she returns home.

As I said before, I hope to hell we’ll never need it, but to know that Tammy would pay to fly us to her and take care of us till we got our feet on the ground should we ever go broke again, is a huge relief to know. She’s told me at least 3 times not to hesitate to pick up the phone and call her if we ever need help. Again, it’s a great feeling. No one wants to feel they’re all alone in the world or like no one gives a shit should they get in a desperate situation. But that’s the way it has been for the most part – those that care haven’t been in a position to help, and those that have been don’t care. Tom’s mother really put a complex on me the day she turned her own son and his wife away in one of their times of need (after we did so much for her and gave her so much money when we did have it) that it became really hard for me to reach out for help. Besides, the situation last year turned so bad that I didn’t think anyone could help us. I had no idea Tammy had this basement apartment and that she would have flown us to her.

I had said that there was nothing to say we still wouldn’t struggle throughout most of our lives, but there’s also nothing to really say we will either. Circumstances beyond our control will always arise. We didn’t make the economy go bad. It’s being prepared for those things that are out of our control that either make you or break you when the shit hits the fan in life.

I also spoke to Paula. She’s her usual self but sounds good. Meaning that she sounded perky and glad to hear from me. She has some medical issues, though, with her stomach and foot. I misunderstood, too. She lost 30 pounds, not 50. Still, that’s a lot of weight. Sentencing is right around the corner on the 3rd so she’s nervous about that.

I feel bad for Eileen. She and her husband have been having a super hard time with things lately.

It’s been surprisingly quiet these last two days. I expected chainsaws, engine gunning and more barking, but haven’t heard much of anything. It’s still pretty warm, though.

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 24, 2012 The woman who loved her husband but did not love her kids has died. She died last night at 6pm ET just one day shy of the day my dad died 7 months ago. First Dad, then my beloved pet, and then her. Makes me wonder – and worry – who could be next.

I picked up the voice message from Tammy when I awoke 4 or 5 hours earlier than I thought I would. I was so tired all day yesterday that I crashed a few hours earlier. I’ve been up since midnight. PT, that is. At around 6am my time I’ll call both Tammy and the attorney.

Back to Mom. Did she suffer in the end? Did she even have any sense of awareness? I wonder about these things. How hard was it on Tammy? Probably hard enough. Her voice sounded weary and strained. When I hadn’t heard from her by noon my time yesterday, I assumed mom held out till she got there, after all, unless she’d either killed or been killed by Larry.

Has Mom joined Dad in the afterlife? Are they at peace together there? Well, if they are then that would mean that the only ones to pay for the abuse she inflicted upon others in life are the victims. So while I know my dad may want to be reunited with her and while it may sound like a very romantic notion, I know he won’t be with her if she’s off somewhere else (in hell?) being made to suffer.

Then again there’s still always the possibility that there is no afterlife. Or maybe we’re reincarnated. Maybe she’s been reborn to a drug-addicted prostitute who will beat her ass every chance she gets. Guess we’ll never know any more than we’ll know who/what created the universe. Did God? Science says otherwise, but there still may’ve been a God behind the Big Bang. And does the same God rule just planet Earth? The whole solar system? The whole galaxy? Questions, questions, questions, but never any answers.

I guess it takes a few days for the spirit to get to where it’s going and to be able to do anything. At least that’s what I hear some people believe. Right now, though, she’s probably freezing her ass off in the morgue, but tomorrow (now today) she’ll be anything but cold when she has her date with the crematory folks.

How do I feel? Well, I still haven’t cried for her and I doubt I ever will. But as for any possible afterlife; I’m torn. Sure I’d like to see her with Dad and for them to live in peace for all eternity. But I’d also like to see her suffer for her abuse. I’m tired of watching every single person who’s ever wronged me, be it in a big way or a small way, up and get away with it as if it were nothing at all. No God, no law, no nothing, has ever made them pay for their offenses against me. This both angers and scares me because it leads me to believe that someone up there thinks it’s ok. It’s ok to screw over Jodi S. Well, it’s NOT ok, and I don’t care what any twisted God or law says. So yes, I hope she’s miserable if she somehow lives on in some other place and time, hopefully without haunting me in any way. I’d like to think she wouldn’t do that if she could, but when you consider what she did to me when she was alive, one can never be too sure. It’s part of why I refused her ashes. It seemed right to add Mom’s urn to Dad’s urn and have both parents together, but I refused her not just because I despised her but because I thought it might be a serious token of bad luck.

Bad things can and do happen to me just for minding my own business and trying to live life to the best of my ability. I’m not perfect, yet I do the best I can. Yet bad things still can and do happen to me. So why ask for trouble? If I can get into enough trouble without asking, I’d really hate to actually ask for it! It seems there are a lot of people out there who can get away with doing bad things, but if I just so much as dare think evil thoughts about someone, trouble heads my way. So I’m going to try to focus on more positive things.

Tom just got up and said he’s glad it’s over. Not just so that it won’t always be on my mind, but cuz he hates to see anything suffer no matter what they might’ve done. I’m glad it’s over too, though knowing how backward and unfair things are, I highly doubt she suffered much. I think she was too out of it to know what the hell was going on. Right now it’s me I’m worried about cuz if she’s coming after me she’ll “arrive” in a few days. Who knows, though, maybe it’ll go the other way around. Maybe she’ll feel so damn guilty for all she’s done that she’ll influence good to happen instead of evil. Like having the park call to tell us to come on down and pick out our new home. Really, I want to get the fuck out of here! Not just for obvious reasons, but the chainsaws are starting and so are the Jes pest and mutts.

The real Molly ended up apologizing to me yesterday, which was kinda funny. I thanked her but told her she’s got to promise that she’ll move on with her new life and that I’m just a boring old person anyway. But sure enough, she contacts me again to say she’s “moved on” yet creates another account. Brilliant. Typical Molly too, but at least I haven’t been pestered by Kim. That one’s even crazier. So crazy she could never apologize cuz she doesn’t know what the fuck she’s doing. Molly knows, but just can’t always help herself.

Later…

Made my first hard-boiled egg and it came out perfect!

Went to Kmart yesterday and ended up getting quite a bit for the $88 we spent. I once won a Rock Band keyboard that we sold for about $60 yet Tom got one for just $20. He plans to get a Wii sometime, too.

I got a couple of bottles of nail polish and a new silverware holder since ours is “peeling.” It’s made of wire that has a white plastic coating. But it’s so old that the coating is breaking off in pieces.

We also got a 3.5” digital photo display with a purple frame to put that idea I got from a dream to the test. I thought it would make a great night light for when I’m up at night to see my way around through to the kitchen and it does. It holds about 1000 high-quality photos but doesn’t shuffle through them, which is weird. It shuffles through the MP3s, though I don’t have any loaded on right now. It also has a calendar, clock and alarm.

Later…

“You knew this,” I tried to tell myself. “You knew God protects and rewards evil while letting the good suffer. You know He’s anything but a loving, caring God. You knew He would see to it that not only did his precious little child abuser not suffer on her way to the Pearly Gates, but that He’d let her screw you out of any serious money in the end, too. And He did. Both of them have added insult to injury and I don’t know who I hate more, Mom or God! Even Tammy’s pissed as hell.

Tammy swears she didn’t know Mom made these final changes until this morning, but that’s not what matters. What matters is that mom fucked me over in life and you would think that would be enough for her, but no, now she has to go and fuck me over from the grave, too. Apparently, I’m worth 40% to the bitch. Just 40%. Tammy says she gave up her share, while Walter, the family attorney, says mom removed both her and Larry out and said that I was to get 40% of the cash that’s left over when everything sells while each of her 4 granddaughters was to get 15%. Now I’m shitty with numbers so my first thought was that 40 was greater than 15 even if I still didn’t like it, particularly when it came to Jennifer. But after I had time to digest this info, I looked at the big picture as a whole. You mean her grandkids are 60% while her own daughter is just 40%?! The daughter she abused?! Fucking Jennifer hardly even knows she exists and Becky and Sarah can’t even stand her. Nothing against the kids, I told Tammy, who was very empathetic and understanding. She was just as pissed and she knew I would be pissed, too. It’d be nice if Jennifer could do the right thing and not accept what isn’t rightfully hers, but I know she won’t. So I would only get 4K out of 10K while these estranged grandkids she never abused get to pocket 6K. Now THAT really pisses the shit out of me, and I don’t care who doesn’t “get” it or who may call me “selfish.” If you didn’t know Dureen O, then you can’t possibly know how I feel.

As Walter said, he’d only heard what I had to say through Tammy so far and actually wanted to hear it from me directly, which is understandable, like when I said I didn’t give a shit about the furniture and jewelry. Our lovely mom said Larry, Tammy and I could split the furniture while Tammy and I split the jewelry. I wouldn’t be interested in these things even if I lived next door to the bitch, so I told Walter what I told Tammy – keep it. I guess the cradle robber made off with a valuable antique marble table, though, that he claims he wants to keep in the family (he and his child-woman moved back to MA cuz she missed her mommy), but Tammy doesn’t know what it’s worth. At least the unborn bastard won’t get anything. Therefore Miss Daddy Issues can have all the kids she wants with “Gramps.”

Tammy received her own slap in the face too, so she learned from Norma over the last few days. Apparently, when she was down there helping Mom when she broke her ankle, Norma called and asked where she was. “I don’t know,” was mom’s answer. That was really low of her.

I thought the store had sold, but I guess the buyer backed out of the deal saying it wasn’t worth it, so the store, store merchandise, condo and vehicles are all for sale. However, the bitch owes 97K between the condo and the loan she took out. She also had major credit card debt from when Dad’s medical bills started piling up, and then there’s store debt, too. There’s about 20K in-store merch. One of the vehicles, a 2006 Hyundai is worth something, but Dad’s 2000 van isn’t worth much. The condo is worth about 105K - 110K, Walter also said. So basically I could end up with anywhere from nothing to 5K - 10K. A part of me hopes I don’t get shit so that no one else gets shit, but I don’t want to lose out for anyone either. What I’m going to get for sure is unknown at this time. Walter has to go through everything, and until things are sold, his hands are tied. The only other thing I remember him mentioning is something about the condo being part of the trust or something like that.

Tammy’s at the condo gathering up what she thinks I would like. I offered to have Walter hang onto any shipping costs from my share, but she insisted on paying for it herself. She’s going to take it all up to CT and ship it from there. If there’s any good to not having moved yet it’s that I can just leave what she may send that I don’t want, and even she said not to worry if there’s anything I don’t want. I suggested she take pics of the stuff when she does get back, so she doesn’t waste time sending too much unwanted stuff.

While we were talking I mentioned the flowers.com GC I had won and the beautiful vase I had a flower or plant of some kind shipped to the bitch in. I described it to her and said it was a really pretty vase and I almost wished I sent it to myself (I should have!) and asked if she could get that for me. At first she didn’t know what I was talking about, but when I described the purple mirrored squares on it she said it sounded familiar and like something she’d seen around the place. So she dug through some shelves and found it.

She also asked if I wanted figurines she had of children by an artist named Jessie Wilcox Smith. I’d never heard of her since it’s been so long since I collected anything, so I looked her up online. Her stuff is ok, so sure, she can send them. As I told Tammy, I like realistic-looking sculptures and nothing too cartoonish. She said something about large, colorful portraits too since she knows I like bright colors and modern things. She’s just the opposite. She loves antiques and that rustic look, too.

She’ll also be sending photos. Most of Dad, of course.

I was pissed, but not surprised to learn she was comatose and went rather peacefully and painlessly, though I guess they pumped her full of morphine in the very end. Now her ass is freezing in the morgue till Tammy can arrange to turn the bitch to ashes and dust. I feel bad for Tammy haven’t so much to do on account of the bitch between packing up the condo and then getting the bitch fried.

Maybe if I’d abused children I’d have had a better life overall, since it seems it’s usually the assholes that live quite well while the good people suffer. She brainwashed an awful lot of people about an awful lot of things. She brainwashed people into thinking she was rich. Judy thought she was rich. Andy thought she was rich. Hell, I thought she was rich! Compared to the starving and struggling I did, though, she was until the very end. In reality, she was just comfortable as hell. She was never literally rich.

She also brainwashed an untold amount of people into thinking I was crazy and that that was why she sent me away when the truth was that she couldn’t deal with the problems I had which SHE created.

Sooner or later God’s gonna send someone to fuck me over so that I WILL be able to make deal with whatever problems they cause me. I WILL get justice for myself and punishment for them. Damn, do I hate that bastard for what He’s allowed to happen! And her, too! Oh yes, sooner or later He’s going to send someone my way with trouble in mind and not even He will be able to protect them!

All I had was ADHD and PTS brought on by the grief she caused me. That’s all I had. Yet she managed to convince tons of people that I was truly crazy. Now I don’t give a shit who thinks what, but when you’re just a kid it hurts like hell. The question is why she did it. Did she think it would bring her sympathy and attention since she couldn’t just tell people I was sick or had a broken leg or something like that? There was an even worse stigma back in the 70s and 80s toward “crazy” people, so I would think that crying “Crazy daughter!” would have lost her friends rather than gained her any sympathy or attention.

Another thing that used to piss me off about her was how seldom she would praise or compliment my accomplishments in life. Especially if it dealt with things she couldn’t relate to. When I published my first book – not a word. When I’d win writing contests – not a word. When I’d discuss my language learning abilities – not a word. Was she jealous or did she just not give a shit? Maybe a little of both. I may not be able to drive or keep a schedule and I may be shitty at a lot of things, but I’m anything but the stupid, crazy person she loved to brag I was.

I hope she’s rotting in Hell even if it means Dad has to do without her. Tom thinks they’re together, though, cuz he doesn’t believe in Hell. Maybe it’d be a good thing if Tom was right. Then maybe I wouldn’t have to worry about not only dying a slow, painful, and totally miserable death all alone, but I wouldn’t have to worry about being thrown into Hell because I wasn’t “bad enough.” Hey, stealing candy as a kid, telling a few tall tales, and making pranks simply wouldn’t be enough to earn me a ticket to Heaven if there was such a thing. No, you need to abuse children and treat your daughter like she’s only 40% of your life and like that’s all she’s worth in order to get to Heaven.

Well, Miss 40% still wishes the very, very worst upon her! Miss 40% still has people who love her and who recognize her strengths and not just her weaknesses, just like Tammy pointed out. Miss 40% will rise above these assholes and have a decent home someday, even though, as Tammy also said, home is where Tom is and our hearts are. Miss 40% will never forgive her mother, and God forever has Miss 40%’s undying and totally devoted hatred!

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 23, 2012 Getting more views from Florida and wondering if it’s anyone I know. Mary? A friend or family member? And who asked “Are you jealous of Tammy because she’s doing better than you?” on Ask? Molly? Kim? Someone else? My guess is Molly, so I deleted that question and “apologized” from her to me for stalking me out of jealousy. I suppose I really should just delete and ignore shit like this, though.

People have said that I should forgive my mother because if I do, then she’ll no longer have control over me. First of all, forgiveness is not a matter of choice any more than what foods, colors or music we like and dislike. Secondly, she doesn’t have control over me or my life and she hasn’t since the day I moved out on my own right before I turned 19. Sometimes I wonder if most people really encourage forgiveness in hopes that people will be quicker to forgive them when people get mad at them for whatever. Not saying this is the case. I’m just saying it’s not something I can consciously pick and choose to do at will. If you can, then wow. Just wow. You’re amazing.

When I was around 7 or 8 my mom was playing music in our living room one day. It was a song called Mama by Connie Francis. In a very melancholy voice, she sang of missing her dead mother and it made me very sad. The thought of losing my own mother, despite how abusive she could be, brought me to tears. I couldn’t imagine life without mom for all mothers abused their kids, right? That was perfectly normal, right?

Well, I haven’t heard back from my sister yet and I don’t know if my mom’s gone yet or not, but the me of today who knows what’s “normal” and what’s not, is not in tears at all.

Anyway, I’ll just be glad when all is said and done, but not as much as Tammy no doubt will be. She’s not doing well at all. She’s in poor health and the trips to and from Florida have been costing her a fortune.

Still no moving dreams and still not sure what I want. It’s easy for me to say I want a 1990 or newer place that’s 1000-1500 square feet cuz that’s sufficient space for two people and then there’d be less renovating to do. But if we go with an older place, we could make it exactly what we want it to be and save money on the monthly lot rent.

Pam, his coworker who lives there, told us something good and bad. The bad is that it may take a few weeks for the park to process our application. The good is that she says she thinks we’ll get in. She says she’s known of people who have gotten in with horrible credit and our credit isn’t “horrible.” It’s just not that good.

Tom’s gonna replace the brakes on the car soon cuz that’s another good and bad thing right there. Whatever park we get into won’t let you work on cars there. This is good since that is totally, totally annoying to have to listen to. The Jes pest is already running, gunning, beating and bashing that old truck of his and it’s so annoying to have to listen to at this distance. So to have people do this shit just a few feet away would drive me crazy. As it is I still think I’m going to hear enough barking dogs being walked around the park, people hanging out chatting, vehicles coming and going, landscaping projects, etc. Hopefully, none of it will be overly loud, though, and I’m sure that at night as well as when it’s raining or really hot, it should be pretty peaceful.

I was listening to electromagnetic vibrations converted into sound waves of the Earth and other planets. It’s awesome! Weird but awesome. I’ve always been fascinated by outer space and the endless possibilities of the various forms of intelligent life that could exist in other solar systems.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 22, 2012 Our connection is getting worse and worse. I worry about the day there’s no service at all and we call them just to be told the same old usual bullshit response of “everything’s ok,” after being on hold for 3 hours.

Tom’s gone to work and Tammy’s getting ready to head down to Florida. At first I didn’t understand why she wanted me to call her or why she left a message yesterday (I was asleep) now that she’s able to get online, but then she messaged me on Facebook.

She gave me the attorney’s number to call on Monday. I don’t know what much he can tell me, though, that I don’t already know.

Back when I lived in Phoenix, Tammy, Larry and I each pitched in to get Mom a ring containing our birthstones. She offered that to me but I’m not interested. Besides, it’d be too big on me and I don’t think I could sell it for much, especially in this economy. She also offered a small urn with mom’s ashes like what dad’s in, but I said what she said the rest of the family was saying – fuck no. I just burst out laughing to myself wondering what the fuck will become of her ashes that no one wants. Again, the fish in the ocean would certainly want her. Why can’t she just go there and put the $500 we’d save in cremation expenses in my pocket?

As I’ve said before, it isn’t about us needing money now; it’s about milking what I can from this abusive bitch who never did a day’s time for every kick, punch and slap she administered to me, let alone the depression and anger she also caused me.

If you could speed up this last year into just a few seconds, it’s like something pushed Tom and I out of the way of a flying bullet, and let my parents take the bullet instead for this year it’s my mother’s turn to be on death row. Only difference is that where our situation seemed 100% hopeless for a couple of weeks, hers is 1000% hopeless.

I was discussing with Tom how frustrating it is that we’re still here and might not be moving anytime soon, and I still wonder why. Is it really because something up there is trying to stop us cuz it wants us to stay in someone else’s tiny dump? Or is something having Tom get hit with all this OT cuz something really good is on the horizon? Or maybe even something really bad? I can’t imagine what bad could cost us the money we’ve got saved and are continuing to save, and I sure as hell hope nothing bad arises. That’s because if it did and it sucked up most of our money, that would mean it would be something really, REALLY bad. If this OT keeps up for the rest of the year we’ll easily have 11K in savings, and if it did it for an entire year (though we know it wouldn’t), he’d make 53K in that year. He may get paid biweekly, but this next check alone will pay two months of rent ($825)!

Other than the money, it just sucks that he can’t have a life. He’s literally going to have to take time off to move cuz they’re not going to give him enough time to do it otherwise. He said he could straighten the department out he’s in in a week and then they could not only afford to stop paying so much OT, but they could also afford to lay half the department off. But in case he was one of them, he’s in no hurry for them to catch on to their own stupidity. It’s kind of funny in a way. For years we wished someone would let him work somewhere in the first place, even if it was just part-time. Now his whole life is nothing but work, work, work. Sometimes one really does get what they wish for even if it may take a couple of years and be a bit overkill. Now can we please have a decent house that’s not as old as I am and that isn’t so damn small?!

The cock up the hill has been gunning his fucking truck on and off since 7am. Cock, you better hope the next people in here are a lot more tolerant than we’ve been or are stuck here like we have been for so damn long!

The Internet was out for a few hours, and then I got a call from Tammy. Mom may not even survive until she gets down there, but I’ll explain more about our talk in my next entry. It may be a while, though.

Later…

For one solid day, I bawled my eyes out when my dad died last February 24th. I still miss him at times. But I have yet to shed a tear for my mother, who has just hours left to live, and I doubt I ever will. The situation as a whole is what’s sad. So any sadness I do feel is mostly for Dad and the fact that two people’s entire existence can cease to exist just months apart. It was almost exactly 7 months ago that my dad died, and now my mom may not make it until Tammy arrives in Florida tonight. Her flight doesn’t leave until 3pm her time.

I often said I wished I were an only child since it would probably make my life easier, yet despite my past problems with my sister and my hatred for my brother, I appreciate them taking care of things, so to speak. Tammy’s taking care of the store and personal items. Larry’s hauling out furniture in a truck. Neither of us wants it anyway. If it weren’t for them, it’d just be one more thing for Tom and I to have to deal with.

I also appreciate (and Tom agrees) Tammy keeping me up to date on what’s been going on. I don’t think she did, but it’s still possible she screwed me over. We’ll find out eventually if anyone did. I doubt it, though. I am pissed off to know that Jennifer’s getting money for reasons I already mentioned before. The money is to be split between my 4 nieces and I, though Tammy’s given up her share. She said if Larry wants his share, that’s ok. Not by me it isn’t, though there’s nothing I can do about it if he does. Even the attorney said he didn’t know what the fuck dad was thinking when he wrote out the will, according to Tammy.

She also tells me Larry’s broke. Well, he should’ve thought about that before he went up and knocked up his child-woman and been smart enough to realize she’s too young and he’s too old to be parents. Maybe the little bastard (God would be kind enough to give him the son he no doubt wanted) will choke on something or the doctor will drop it when it pops out and break its neck. Whorebag or not, at least its father won’t beat it up or put it down so bad that it ends up feeling like the biggest, hopeless, ugliest, totally abnormal piece of shit on earth. Don’t know about her, though.

We’re actually surprised the bitch didn’t leave all the money to her mutt, though Tammy and Mark have come to really love the thing, LOL. Seriously, though, her dogs were always #1 and were always treated like gold. We envied them. If they peed where they weren’t supposed to, they at least didn’t get their asses beat.

Mom’s got the death rattle, Tammy said, and can barely swallow. How she doesn’t drown on her own spit is beyond me. I guess she’s either drying up or they’re doing something to keep her from drowning on it, though I don’t see why they would want to prolong the inevitable. Drown the bitch, nursing home people, will ya?

I wonder if she’s even got any awareness or if she’s suffering, and of course a part of me – a big part of me – hopes she is. I guess she opens her eyes at times and she kind of did this to herself cuz she didn’t want to live. Tammy said she didn’t take her medication cuz she was so depressed. She may’ve bossed the guy around to death, but she really did love my dad. No doubt about that. That’s the one and only thing I can understand is her depression. If I would kill myself – and I would – if I lost Tom after 19 years, I can just imagine how she would feel after losing someone she was with for 63 years. No amount of crushes, lust and attraction can sever us from our true soul mates. I wonder, though, is it just her consciously or subconsciously wanting to be with Dad, or is Dad also out there somewhere pulling her toward him as well? My guess is that if he could he would seeing how miserable she is. Fine, he can have her!

Anyway, it’s not an infection that’s going to kill her. I guess her organs are just shutting down. When Tammy and I spoke when the Internet came back on, she said there were so many emotions running through her. She said if it’s any consolation to herself, she can know she kept her promise to Dad. On his deathbed, she promised to look out for Mom. Dad may’ve put up with too much shit and looked the other way too often, but everybody loved him. Everybody. But ma – even Becky and Sarah hate her. Lisa doesn’t, though, cuz mom favored her and she knew it.

Tammy said that may be part of why it’s been so hard on her was because she saw the decline. She’s been there so much since Dad died that it’s different when you’re there watching it as opposed to hearing about it from afar. I can understand this much, and I told her that. I don’t know if I could or would pity Mom if I were by her side watching her die, but I’m glad I won’t ever find out. Soon it will be all over and Tammy can go back home and never again have to deal with Larry.

An odd sense of freedom is coming over me now, though I’m kind of emotional at the same time. Not emotional in the way I was when Dad died, but to lose both parents in less than a year is still a big deal no matter what kind of people they were. I feel “free” knowing that from now on if I get into a fight with any family members, I don’t have to worry about my parents being dragged into it and then taking it out on me. No more can people go running to mommy and daddy, and believe me, I intend to let a few people have it when this is all over. Jennifer, Polly and maybe even a message to Larry’s child-woman just because I know it’ll piss Larry off that I got through to his mistress through her friend. That’s the only way I can get through to her since she doesn’t allow messages from non-friends. Tammy will hear about it as will the rest of the family right down to the most extended of extended family members, but guess who doesn’t give a shit? It will be legal, non-threatening, and even swear-free, but I have something to say to these people and I’m going to say it and get things off my chest. I don’t intend to have any more problems with family ever again, though, cuz Tammy and I are either always going to get along or we’re not, and if there’s any trouble, I’m gone. Gone for good. No need to stick around and fight or argue when I can just not bother with her. She’d probably harass me every now and then, but one has to do what they gotta do.

Anyway, while most people mourn the deaths of their mothers by basically staying in bed and crying all day, I’ll be celebrating at Kmart tomorrow morning. Well, Tom and I actually decided on this before I learned the poodle may go bye-bye tonight. We deserve some fun for once. He’s been working his ass off, and I’ve been waiting around month after month for nothing (at least we got richer doing it), so Sally Hansen, here I come!

Tammy told me more about her house. It’s on 3 acres and she hardly hears her neighbors. No barking, dirt bikes and motorcycles. Why is it always me that has to listen to other people’s shit??? Mark grew up there and his family has land all over that area. The place isn’t all paid for but it’s close. There are 2600 square feet on the main floor (way too big) and that’s not counting the full-fledged apartment they’ve got downstairs that Becky once lived in. It’s got a full kitchen and shower and Tom and I would’ve been welcomed there when we were in the jam we were in last year, and always will be, she says. This is very sweet of her, and to say that Tom could work with Mark, but I’d hate that climate and don’t want to be that close to Tammy. We may not be the family underdogs anymore (OMG!) but we’re not the overdogs either. Mark makes damn good money and stays pretty busy with his construction business. Hey, I always said God blesses my perps, didn’t I? And I still think she was in on the let’s-get-Jodi times of the year 2000. She didn’t just have low self-esteem motivating her. She had the anger of being dumped motivating her as well.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 21, 2012 Tom was able to get ahold of the park people today and they said they were busy and got backed up in things and are going to process our application today. I still think they’re going to reject us. Meaning that I don’t think they’ll never let us buy a place in their park, but I think they’ll tell us we either have to clean up or establish credit first or both. This can take months.

We’re so frustratingly close yet so far from getting what we want, assuming we really can get any of the nicer parks to accept us. There was a 90s model for just 8K. It was in great condition, had the appliances we want, and was twice as big as this place. We get the impression the owner died and the kids are selling the place cuz the ad said they were even leaving their tools in their shed. We don’t quite have enough saved for this one yet. In a couple of months, we will. Now that Tom’s up I’ll see if he thinks it’s worth calling them and seeing if a deal could be worked out, assuming the park would accept us. Again, it’s not getting a place that could be a real bitch, it’s getting in the damn parks that they’re in! Unless we want to settle for the “sardine” park, and we don’t.

Later…

Nane got to take half the day off cuz they had a rough day at work yesterday. I guess their system was down and all they could do was hang around bored cuz the IT guy was on another job outside of Munich. Wow, if Tom got to take time off every time something went wrong at work, he’d never work! He’s tired as hell cuz of all the OT, but what a check we’re in for!

She asked about the park and how the credit thing works here.

Well, I guess Christiane is ignoring me (typical of the sane and pretty), cuz Tammy did reply. She’s leaving for Florida tomorrow to throw the poodle in the hospice. She’ll be meeting with the attorney to go through the store’s stock, and the pervert will be emptying the condo out and into a truck. Wonder how she feels about that. If it’s shit neither of us wants or could sell for much money, then it doesn’t matter.

While I still have no empathy for Mom, the situation is sad as a whole to think that two people and their lives can dissolve into nothing but a memory in less than a year.

As for the child-woman and old pervie, they both look like shit. And as I told Tammy, I say that because it’s true and not cuz I don’t like them. I would never say someone was dumb or ugly just because I was pissed at them because one doesn’t have anything to do with the other. Smart people and good-looking people piss me off just as much as ugly idiots. Nonetheless, she looks fat and plain and he looks like a criminal. Very scruffy, scraggly, unkempt and sloppy as hell. He wasn’t bad in his younger days, but I can’t believe any woman of any age would find the Larry of today attractive.

The itch to learn another language came over me and I started to study something radically different. Or so I thought. Even though I swore I’d never learn the Arabic language, I decided that since Urdu isn’t nearly as ugly as Arabic, I’d try that. But sure enough, it’s another fucking gender language! Is English the only non-gender bender in the world??? Screw it then.

I asked Tom if he would learn as much of as many languages as he could or if he’d try to perfect just one or two languages, and he said he’d go for the quantity. I can understand some French due to its similarities to other RL languages I’m quite familiar with, so maybe I’ll run through those courses on LM once we move.

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 20, 2012 So my newest admirer is Kay, who I just added on FB (Kaylyn G). As long as she isn’t batshit crazy (too soon to say for sure yet), she’s not bad at all but there’s no “spark.” You know how you can look at a person and think wow, they’re really beautiful, but that doesn’t mean you’d want to jump in bed with them? Well, she’s just pretty like a flower or a butterfly. You like looking at it but don’t want to do it. She seems to have a nice body and you usually need to be tall to have a nice shape like that, so I’m guessing she’s tall. Hair color’s a bit light, but I like its straightness. Can’t tell eye color, but I doubt it’s brown. Nane’s new competitor that isn’t! LOL

Ok, so she’s not male, not Lori-ugly, and not quite blond. But she is a little contradictory. On FB she says her mother “is her world.” On MO she described her as a physically and emotionally abusive bitch. She told me she prefers women, but “hates girls” on her wall. Maybe she means people her age. She said one of my recent pics with my classic “sunburned” face was beautiful. rolls eyes Okay, this should be flattering coming from an attractive 22-year-old, but I still prefer the older foreign chick. I realize the foreign thing is part of the turn-on. Nothing foreign about PA, though.

I never would’ve believed it if someone told me my online trolls would be crazy chicks instead of perverted guys. Guess it’s the benefit of being over 40. :))) Not saying she’s crazy, though…yet.

Can’t deny that the people you can meet online sure can be interesting. And the best part is that you don’t have to work with or live with any of them you decide you don’t like.

I don’t understand, though. You mean lesbians and bisexuals don’t want a damn thing to do with me when I’m young, skinny and pretty while the older and fatter I get I become “beautiful?” WTF??? I could kinda see Perez and TB cuz they were butches, but there isn’t a damn thing butchy about Nane and Miss Tats and Piercings. Tats are so-so, but I hate piercings that aren’t on the ears.

My message to Tammy is appearing as read on FB, but I don’t know if I trust FB and its little indicators. My last two to Christiane never appeared as read. Even if she didn’t reply, would Christiane ignore my messages? And why would Tammy? Unless something came up, I would think Tammy would’ve replied.

So does this mean she was just late getting back online and isn’t in Florida after all? She said she wasn’t taking her computer down with her, so I guess she’s not with the poodle after all. The poodle is Andy and my new nickname for her.

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 19, 2012 Getting really sick of these random weeknight outings of Jesse’s. As I know good and well, the barking won’t stop, since it’s dark out, until he returns. Well, that could be anywhere from a few minutes to a few hours to the wee hours of the morning. Man, I’m sick of this shit! Getting hit with it on weekend nights is bad enough. So now I can’t even have peace at night during the week some nights?! I don’t understand why no one shoots the fuckers even though they’d only be replaced within days. The people up the hill on the other side of him have to be just as annoyed, right? Or are they doing the same thing and leaving dogs out to bark at any given time? Well, we’re not going anywhere anytime soon, so someone needs to do something. I just don’t want to be the one to have to take responsibility for someone else’s dogs.

Anyway, I feel so bad for Tom yet we’re loving the speed our savings is growing at. They are working the holy shit out of him with killer 12-hour shifts. Again, I don’t know what the hell they bothered adding a second shift for if they’re not going to let them take care of things once 1st shift ends, but not even Mr. Optimistic himself thought we’d ever have money like this. He gets paid biweekly and we can practically pay all our monthly expenses including food and gas with one paycheck and still have money left over! While we seem to be stuck in a serious rut, it’s great not having to plan or budget and things like that.

But this doesn’t change the fact that I have a bad feeling we’re going to be here for a long time to come. He realized before he called the park that they couldn’t send us anything by mail because they don’t have our mailing address. So he called there today, but still couldn’t talk to anyone cuz the phones were down. The person told him that if he had an emergency they’d get ahold of someone, but since it wasn’t, all he can do is call back tomorrow. I find it awfully hard to believe the phones have been out for a whole week, so why can’t they just give us the bad news and let us get on with our lives? It’s kind of rude to keep people hanging like that and if they’re going to be either incompetent or make ridiculous demands of us, I don’t know that I’d want to do business anyway.

Tom says now that we’ve got enough money to make them a real offer, he just has no time to do so cuz he’s always working so damn much. The guy’s barely got time to eat, piss and sleep. I don’t think it matters, though, how much we can offer. The lot the place is on still has to be rented every month. So if they have a problem with those with less than perfect credit as well as no credit, then why would it matter whether we got a place for a grand or a place for 7 grand? Yet he says it does.

We still can’t get that nice of a place, though, no matter how much we can put down or even if we can buy it outright, cuz then we lose our security. If our expenses are more than they are here, then we can’t save as fast. The last thing I want to do is go back to living paycheck-to-paycheck or only be able to save $20 bucks a month. Being able to save $500 - $1000 a month has a way of spoiling you, and I don’t want to give that up by having a nicer place that ties up most of our money. Yeah, I’m tired of old, ugly places. Yeah, I’m tired of being cramped in like a little sardine. But we can’t have our cake and eat it, too. I’d still rather pretty up an older, cheaper place that we know would be at least somewhat bigger than this.

But that’s only if anyone out there will let us. If all the parks keep rejecting us, what do we do then? Stay here or get a place in the mainstream where the barking will not only be worse but we’ll be back having to deal with screaming kids and blasting car stereos as well?

It’s hard to believe the sardine park we liked the least wouldn’t be willing to work with us if we were willing to take a place nearly as small and as dumpy as this one, but that’s just the thing – I’m tired of settling! Whatever’s up there may not like me nearly as much as it liked my parents and I don’t expect to ever live nearly as well as they did, but I think my husband and I deserve a little better for once. No matter how much money we have, we don’t need to keep living like bums.

The cock up the hill left at 8pm. It’s almost 10pm. If the barking is still going on at midnight, then I’ll know it’s not coming back tonight. Damn God above for siccing this shit on me in every single fucking place I’ve lived in since I left the East!

Nane wasn’t ignoring me, just busy. She messaged me yesterday. She’s filling in for a vacationing colleague, then said something about expecting a lot of trades that day.

With all the sexism that still goes on toward women, I’m really surprised most men aren’t gay.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 18, 2012 It’s the 18th yet Tammy doesn’t appear to have been online at all today. Could she be in Florida already?

I was mistaken the other day in a previous entry when I said that Ronnie was favored because he was firstborn and male. Male yes, but firstborn, no. The cock’s actually several years younger than his abusive sister who I hope is suffering her ass off now.

I would have to be kidding myself or in serious denial to think that any God up there could possibly care about me in any way. But I’m not about to tell myself what I want to hear or what may sound good. I’m not only not an easy one to brainwash, lie to or bullshit, but I’d rather face the cold hard truth, even if it sucks.

So why is Nane ignoring my messages? I know she was on FB because she “liked” some photos and commented on them, but she doesn’t appear to have picked up my messages. Maybe the “message read” indicator is glitchy or maybe she’s just busy, but I doubt it.

Facebook may actually have a game I just might like for the first time ever. It’s a Bingo game that pays real cash and prizes if you win. What’s cool is that I can set it on auto-play instead of manual-play and let it play for me while I’m writing or whatever. Usually, I avoid their games because there’s nothing to profit from them and I just don’t get them. The games are laid out in a busy, complex sort of way that’s hard to figure out. I’m not even sure I understand how this Bingo game works. There are a lot of extras involved that are confusing. It’s not a simple, straightforward game.

One of their applications has caused me such headaches. They’re not only spamming the hell out of me, but it’s not the companies themselves that are spamming me, so I’ve learned. It’s someone advertising the companies that are making money by paid clicks. I stupidly clicked on the emails to unsubscribe. Then I contacted one of them today and asked why they were still spamming me. According to them, though, my email wasn’t even in their system. That’s when I knew something was up that had nothing to do with the actual companies themselves, and then Tom explained it to me when he came home from another looong 12-hour shift.

Ok, I figured there was a catch to this game. You can only play for money if you have a certain number of Bingo Bucks.

The weather’s slowly cooling down and we’re starting to have chilly nights and warm days.

Tomorrow we’re expecting bad news from the park. When he still hadn’t heard from them he realized they probably sent a letter of rejection and it was waiting for us in the mail. It hit him that they’d be required to tell us to fuck off in writing. Tom will be picking it up tomorrow.

It’s ridiculous to be rejected for a place that would cost less than what we pay here for money we don’t owe. Tom said he’s going to try disputing these scammers that have ruined our credit or maybe even freeze the credit, but the bottom line is the bottom line. You can’t make be what isn’t meant to be. The bastard above certainly can’t agree with what we’re doing or want us to own again. Why would we have lost two places in a row and then spent the last 8 years renting if that wasn’t what was meant to be?

There’s still an option to try to rent this place that’s kind of nice, but the place is even further from work and more than what we pay here. Besides, I still think we’d get rejected for that, too.

Tom assures me that the more our savings builds (and it’s building fast with all the OT) the less our credit will matter. Maybe so, but I still think we’ve got many more months to go here which totally sucks. I really wanted to get out before the daytime temps dipped under the 80s and Jesse came out to beat, bang, bash and rev whatever new motors and other toys he’s probably been itching to get out and build, and before I have to hear every goddamn chainsaw in the area and much, much more barking.

We don’t pay our perps. Period. We were legally forced to do so once, and I vowed never to do it again once I was able to take back my life from the sickos that seized control of it for years. I won’t do it. I won’t pay any scammers just to get ahead. Not by choice and not by any twisted law. I’m not going to be “punished” for trying to get something I want and I’m not going to be told what to do. No one can tell me I have to pay something I don’t agree with, want to pay or owe. Not any cop, not any court, not any civilian, not any scammers!

There’s an even worse possibility and that’s the black bitch in Arizona. The bullshit was supposedly pled down to a misdemeanor but if there’s any way they can find out that the case pertained to a neighbor, then this sick bitch may still be controlling my life even after all these years. We don’t think this is the most likely case, but I swear I’ll go down and kill this brazen, hateful little fuck if it is! I’m sure I wouldn’t have to look hard to find wherever the hell she is. She would gladly die for me if it meant I may go down for life.

Ended up twisting what Alison and I think are probably Molly’s words, and it seems to have scared them off if only for a while. She confirms, once again, that Molly can get online. She may not be able to do it as much and maybe only at set times, but she’s reactivating and deactivating (probably so she can’t be blocked) her FB accounts and has been harassing her, Dustin and Regina. She’s “lonely” and “homesick” and so she wants Aly’s attention.

The group home, which I’m sure is unaware of Molly’s behavior, should never allow their crazies online access. Did they forget what kinds of people they house there when they added the Internet? If she gets to be more of a problem I wonder if they would help me if I contacted them. I highly doubt they’re aware of her online behavior. I doubt they’d help me, though. What could they do? Take her laptop away? Block my sites for her? Then again, if she’s in their custody, then she’s their responsibility, right?

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 17, 2012 Today’s “question” was: no i meant what i said you deserve all the bad things you get but i do feel sorry for you dear.

But that still makes no sense. If you hate someone enough to feel they deserve bad things, then why would you feel sorry for them? My first thought is that Kim or Molly is behind it or even Molly’s mother. Mrs. M wouldn’t write that poorly, though, with no caps or punctuation. I also realize it could be from some random joker or someone I haven’t considered. Maybe it’s Lisa. Or maybe it’s Alison. Maybe Alison is just as crazy as Kim, though she certainly doesn’t seem to be. Just her job alone says she can’t be that unbalanced or off in any way. The military simply doesn’t deal with the likes of Kim. It’s had some angry, trigger-happy folks at times, but not usually people with MPD.

I deleted the question, but am sorry I did. I thought of a brilliant idea: to twist their words. I’d have to copy it first, then delete it and re-ask the question, but why not add: I hope someone kills you? Maybe that’ll drive them away since they obviously don’t have the guts to say who they are and why they feel so hateful.

My allergies are better today, but they sure drove me crazy yesterday. My nose didn’t run much, but I had random sneezing fits till I finally took a Benadryl.

We were surprised not to hear from the park today. Could this be a good thing? Tom thinks it might be and that they’re waiting for an ok from the individual sellers. If he hasn’t heard from them by Wednesday, he’ll call them. I’m gonna be pissed if they say they misplaced our application or something like that, though it’s better than a rejection. They obviously haven’t called Andy or Jesse cuz they’d have said so if they did. We asked them not to call Jesse till we’ve officially gotten a place because we don’t want him to know we’re moving till we go to give our 30-day notice. Tom still thinks we’re moving this year. I don’t know what to think anymore.

They’ve been running him ragged at work again. What’s the point of implementing a 2nd shift if they’re still going to OT 1st shift so much? He said they’re just stupid. I then suggested he think of transferring to the second shift since I know he prefers it to first. He said he wants to move while on 1st shift because coming in so late may reflect horribly on us with our new neighbors.

But he’s not the only one there who will work and it’s not like he’s going to come in blasting music and honking horns, so I don’t get what he’s worried about. He said most of the people there aren’t going to be working, but so what? His neighbor worshiping really annoys me. We haven’t even gotten and met the new neighbors yet and already he’s putting them before us and worrying too much about what they’ll think or how things will reflect on us. I reminded him that he can’t control people’s minds, thoughts and actions and so he shouldn’t worry about it. Maybe he’ll “reflect” horribly in their eyes cuz he has a shirt the color of dried shit. Anything we say and do could offend someone, somewhere at any time. That’s why I exercise good judgment within reason in my blog, but I’m not going to not write just because someone may take offense to my saying pink is a lovely color. Really, it just seems so stupid and pointless to worry about others so much. We don’t owe them anymore or less than the basic niceties in life we’d give anyone anywhere.

Also, when have we ever had working neighbors? He worries about coming in too late cuz most of them will be retired, yet none of our neighbors worked for the most part. They didn’t work in Phoenix. The renters in back of our Maricopa house and the Mexicans to the side of it were always home. The duplex people were always home in Oregon. The only one that occasionally worked was Kim, the chick next to us in the dumpy house we rented, also in Oregon, and she worked nights. Jesse’s been out of work for the most part, so I find it hard to believe that he’ll suddenly start looking bad in people’s eyes if he worked 2nd or 3rd shift.

I wish he would think of his own health and happiness first. Why use days off to move that could go towards vacations or just vegging out??? To please a neighbor that wouldn’t even hear him anyway as quiet as he is makes no sense at all. I don’t go out of my way to go above and beyond what’s expected of me or to give any extra privileges to anyone I don’t love or care about or that isn’t as good-looking as Nane. Well, no one there is going to look like Nane! If they asked us not to tend to yard work at certain times like Kim did because she slept during the daytime, fine. I can work with someone who politely makes a reasonable request like that. But why assume things and put others first???

It still pisses me off that my parents couldn’t even leave us a few grand, but hey, they just weren’t rich. I don’t doubt, however, that they spent most of their lives very comfortably until the economy went to hell and the medical bills started piling up. I still don’t feel the least bit guilty over resenting them for living high while I went hungry when I first got to Arizona. I really thought I was going to starve to death for a while there!

But we’re far from poor. Tom was looking at RVs and other vehicles just for the hell of it and found many 30’ RVs and cars from the 2000s up that we can easily afford yet still have a savings.

I forgot to say that Andy reminded me that the Middle East includes Israel, so I should be more specific about who I’m talking about. You know, when I say I’m sick of the shit they pull in the Middle East? Well, I ain’t talking about Israel!

I also realize I should be careful not to give people the wrong idea where my friends are concerned when posting old journals no matter how far back in the past it may be. When I first started journaling I wrote for me and me only and in a way that only I understood because I never expected to share them with anyone. I personally don’t give a shit how people perceive me and what conclusions they may come to, real or imaginary, but I realize I should watch what I post about others or at least how it’s worded.

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 16, 2012 I developed a new system for posting old journal entries. I proofread an entire month at a time and then I can just throw the whole thing online. I’m going through December of 1993 now and in one of the entries for that month, I mention my mother getting a job in an office and her saying she’d prefer not to have to work, and then I remember Tom saying just the other day that no one goes back to work after retirement because they want to. She wasn’t quite 65 yet, but still. The more I think about things and the more I learn, the more I realize that yes, they were upper class for the most part, and yes, they were comfortable as hell most of their lives, but clearly they were never “rich.” I don’t know why some people ever thought they were. Maybe they misunderstood, were falsely informed, or just “felt” they were rich in comparison to themselves.

A year ago today – yeah, it was exactly one year ago today that disaster struck – I’d have looked at the me of today and thought they were rich as hell, too.

Speaking of one year ago today, it’s a rather emotional anniversary of sorts filled with mixed emotions – anger, sadness, thankfulness… I couldn’t stand to read back on much of my journal entries from that time, but oh how I remember those feelings! The anger, the fear, the sadness…

Why us? I kept asking myself this. I’m grateful to have survived, but I still wonder how many more times we’ll be teased about our survival like that. I still believe something up there wanted to kill us while something else saved us in the end. But who/what, and why?

Again, I’m thankful to have not only survived but to have gotten so far ahead so fast despite the horrible memories I’ll have to live with of the stress and the intense emotions that I felt during that time on “death row” as we were for those 10 days or so. Never before had any situation looked so utterly hopeless. I know we can’t live forever, but it seems that no matter what’s going on and no matter what age we are, we always try to fight death whenever it comes too close to us. Instinct simply kicks in and takes over whether we like it or not.

Later…

1993 is all posted now, so here goes 1994. I’ll try to get January on tonight so long as the net doesn’t go out for 5 hours like it did last night.

Someone (Molly? Kim?) said on Ask: you deserve all the bad things you get.i feel really sorry for you.

I told them: You contradicted yourself. You obviously meant to insert the word “don’t” either after the word “you” in the first sentence or after the “i” in the second. Which was it?

I also received quite a compliment from a 22-year-old with a broken heart in Pennsylvania who spent an hour on my blog. She said she found it intriguing, asked how I got started, and said she was going to read it all.

Had a chilling thought earlier. I’m sure I’m just being paranoid, and I still don’t even know that was a real pig that contacted me last January, though I don’t doubt it was connected to the black bitch. But what if they’re waiting for us to get settled in our own place where the Internet is in our own name? That’s what they did last time. Just one week after we finally left the hotels and got settled in Maricopa they were on me. What if the idea is to wait till we get moved, spend most of our savings getting into the new place, and then legally kidnap me when they think I’ll be left with no money for a defense?

I know it sounds paranoid as hell. As soon as they could’ve picked me up, they would have. But I’m not only out of their jurisdiction, I haven’t done anything illegal. At least not illegal enough. The anti-spam policy clearly states one must send thousands of emails to be punishable, not a few dozen.

I still think they altered something I sent either on their own or with the black pig’s help. Probably with his help. Still, I’m up here and they’re down there. And that’s the way it stays!

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 15, 2012 I’ve decided it’s about time I stop being so damn nice and worry about what others may think of what I say in my blog. After all, I don’t care what they think of me, so why should I worry about what they think of my blog? I have suppressed some of my views on some things, like the human killing machines in the Middle East despite the fact that millions of others have freely expressed theirs, simply because I didn’t want to offend this one or upset that one or whatever. Well, no more! It’s about time I stop being responsible for other people’s feelings because A, they’re not my responsibility. B, no one’s being forced to read this at gunpoint. C, I’m not threatening or harming anyone by expressing myself, nor am I breaking any laws. So, while I may come off as defiant and defensive if anyone so much as dares to think of violating my right to say what I’m going to say, I will sue you senseless. Really, I will be the first thing that comes to mind whenever you’re asked what you regret most in life. Forget about buying a trailer in a park. I’ll be able to buy the whole damn park when I get done with anyone that might try to make trouble for me simply because they can’t handle it or don’t want to hear it or they might feel they’re entitled to seek vengeance because I wasn’t afraid to “accurately rate” them on a particular site once upon a time. What can work in the past doesn’t always work in the future. Especially when that once naïve-to-the-law person ain’t so naïve anymore. Oh no, this one fights back and doesn’t succumb to any stupid traps or bluffs, nor to any lies, false promises or threats cuz she knows they’re all bullshit anyway.

Sometimes it’s best to just cut your losses, admit you can’t always get the last word, and let dead dogs lay. Besides, if you didn’t have a guilty conscience and weren’t guilty of anything you wouldn’t care what I said about you, right? Right? Yeah, you don’t think I knew about you lurking in the shadows as you have been, but I’ve seen your every move within my account. Again I ask the same question I asked years ago, who’s the real stalker? Well, mark my words – you do not scare or intimidate me, and trying to scam and or scare me on behalf of your buddies won’t do you any good either but get you in trouble if it happens again. You really need to grow up, get a life, and get over the past. You were fired with just cause and now it’s time to move on. If sales are where you’re really meant to be in life, why not go with it, make the best of it and stop trying to “resurrect” what can never be again? You had your chance once. You blew it. Now move on. You won for a while there and then you lost. You used and abused your position without a care as to how it may affect others. You took your anger over the past out on others, including me. You made mountains out of molehills. You read things in that weren’t even there. You jumped to false conclusions. You treated little, harmless offenses like it was murder. You helped make a lot of people miserable. The end result: No one feels sorry for you so get over it.

Just wanted to give any potential troublemakers fair warning, though I am probably being unnecessarily defensive in a way that only one who has walked in my shoes could understand. I don’t go out of my way to offend people, but I’m also not so willing to aim to please either. Not in my own blog anyway, that people choose to read on their own. You don’t have to like it. You don’t have to agree with it. All you have to do is respect my beliefs, feelings and opinions, as you would want others to do with you. If you don’t want any trouble, don’t make it for others.

I’m not playing to an audience here. I’m not out to “entertain” anyone. I’m only out to share my experiences in life and the feelings and thoughts that go with them. If anyone happens to find any of it enlightening or funny along the way as a “side effect” to me sharing what I share, fine. It is also fine if someone doesn’t like my saying I’m sick of the shit these crazy, extremists in the middle east have pulled year after year, decade after decade. They really have a way of making other groups that can get rather feisty seem like pussycats. Their latest outburst over a stupid film after we have given and given to them while forfeiting our own has me enraged, ashamed and embarrassed as hell for them. They disgust and sicken me, and no, I don’t feel sorry for the kids there either. Those “innocent” kids are going to grow up to be the same monsters the adults are at the rate they’re going. They are like two-year-olds throwing violent temper tantrums. Why is it that some groups think the way to solve their anger issues or other problems is to riot and take it out on innocent people??? How can they possibly think that’s going to fix things or gain their acceptance? I’ve seen films and other things that have offended me plenty yet I don’t go around destroying property, setting fires and killing people. Oh, and one more thing – if they hate us Americans so damn much then why don’t they get the fuck out of this country?

Slept great on the new mattress. No backaches or anything like that. Just the usual slew of negative/weird dreams. As comfy as the mattress is, it doesn’t have much bounce for a coil spring mattress. It’s a very firm, rock-solid mattress. I’m sure I’d have complained it was too firm back in my skinny days. They’re amazingly quiet, too. Usually, when someone’s moving next to you, you can hear the coils creaking, but not with this thing.

Got a great idea for a night light in one of my dreams. In the dream, I was showing someone a huge screen saver I had that was the size of an average mural. Well, we certainly wouldn’t need one that big since it doesn’t take that much light to see your way around, but I think I may get one of those digital photo frames after the move and keep it in the kitchen or living room. Then instead of leaving the stove light on, we could use that.

I had dreams of Cousin Philip and his phony mother because they were on my mind after talking about them with Tammy.

Then I was in this strange room that was quite cramped. It had a lot of stuff in it. I guess it may’ve been a bedroom of sorts. I was supposed to sleep in the bedroom next to it but wanted to sleep in that one for some reason. I was about to block the light in the window since it was daytime, but as I approached it I saw a few people that seemed to be looking for me. I didn’t want them to see me so I tried to hide under the blanket.

Had a few quick dreams of Nane, but all we did was scream at each other. In one dream she asked to check out my pink iPod and accidentally erased what was on it, so I screamed at her for that. Then she got pissed at me because I forgot to bring over some donuts or cakes I had promised to bring over. I laughed and said I’d remember to poison them first next time and she glared at me for that one. Then she accidentally dropped my iPod and I let her have it for that, too. A split second later I was relaxing in her bed with a rat curled up by my side and she ran into the room screaming for me to “get that fucking thing off her bed!” LOL

I am so pissed off right now. The net’s been out cold for about 5 hours. I just might be ready to settle for a carbon copy of this dump in that cramped park just so I can have decent Internet service!

Maliheh finally picked up my email. But it says she made only 1 view, so does this mean she only opened one of them? Either way, she really hasn’t turned out to be a very good friend. It’s like she’s only a partial friend and a part-time one as well. It’s like she was willing to finally be my friend, but only if she could keep me at a distance by not talking on the phone or adding me on Facebook. Then there are the long silent spells too, though I’d still rather that than be smothered like Marie used to love to do.

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 14, 2012 I forgot to mention that Tom was telling this new lady at work that we’re looking for a place in a 55+ park. The woman said she couldn’t wait till she was old enough to do that too, which is something she’s wanted to do. The lady asks Tom where we’ve been looking, he tells her, then her eyes light up at the mention of the “cramped” park. Turns out the manager that we talked to there is her brother. She said we should go there and that we’d get a “really good deal” there.

Yes, we would. But that’s because it’s kind of a dumpy park. I mean, it’s well-manicured enough, but the trailers are practically touching each other and many of them are old, rundown dumps much like this. That park would only be for if we couldn’t get anything better but still wanted to own and save money. Those lots are only about $400 a month.

I still worry the nicer park is going to reject our application and that we’ll end up there, but no park is as nice as the Diamond K Estates with all the newer double-wides and garages. None of their places are under 40K, though, and if they are it isn’t very often. We’d have to stay here till he was 60 to save to get in there, thanks to Mommy and Daddy who aren’t going to look out for me in death any more than they usually did in life. We could actually save faster for one of those places in a park that was moderately expensive as opposed to this place. IDK, maybe when he retires, though I won’t count on it.

I spent several hours posting from late October 1993 to early December 1993 since I hadn’t posted old stuff in a few days. I’ve often wondered certain things about the future and people would often respond by suggesting I just let the future take care of itself. I had to laugh at that one when I wondered 20 years ago what would become of my journals. Well, little did I know they’d one day be available for the whole world to see. Not every single word of them, but most of them.

Later…

Tammy called back, although she didn’t leave a message. Deciding it must be important, I returned the call shortly after I got up. She starts off about Mom’s condition and the doctors hopelessly trying to fight it with antibiotics through an IV. I ask her why they’re bothering to fight it if they know it’s hopeless, but it’s supposedly to keep her more comfortable. I guess they also called her asking permission to give her something to help ease her pain and she okayed it. Another classic example of how God goes out of His way to protect His perps and to bless the evil with all kinds of comfort. Had it been me I’d have told the nurse to let the bitch suffer. Besides, aren’t they getting tired of being asked for beer and dates with the hairstylist?

The sooner the bitch is cremated, the sooner we can seek closure of sorts and get on with our lives. She says there’ll be a small memorial and that she’ll give a eulogy like she did with Dad. Even though they won’t be buried, both will have gravestones side by side. Poor Tammy still has to deal with what goes in the newspaper and clearing out the rest of the condo and shit like that.

I’d tell the paper she was a child abuser, throw her body in the ocean, and then pocket the money the cremation would’ve cost.

Anyway, she goes on about her health and I eventually stopped her and said, “With all due respect, sis, I just don’t give a damn. I really don’t.” At the same time, I do appreciate her keeping me up to date with things in general.

Andy said Judy said they had a prized art collection worth a lot of money, but it was news to Tammy when I asked her about it. She agreed it would be wonderful if they did, though. If they ever had such a thing it’s long gone. I never saw anything like it the two times I visited them in Florida in 1988 and 1990.

I told her the rumor was that she inherited a fortune from Nana and Pa and she said that’s not true and that it was Ronnie that actually got most of it. Ronnie was the favorite, and I know for a fact he inherited their exterminating business. I don’t doubt for a minute that Nana and Pa favored Ronnie. The firstborn tends to be favored anyway, especially if they’re males. She got enough money to get down to Florida, plus there was money from the house in MA that sold for something like 180K, but that was pretty much it.

Also, I was always under the impression that Medicare paid most of their medical bills, but apparently, that’s not so. She’s seen the many medical bills Dad left behind.

I didn’t know what to think at first, but everything she’s said so far has checked out so I don’t think she’s being dishonest in any way because we’re able to verify most of it online.

Tom said he doesn’t think my folks meant to lie or lead me on about an inheritance and that more than likely they were just naïve. Meaning, they couldn’t have had any way of knowing that the economy would devalue so many things like it has and that they’d have so many medical bills. I will be the first to admit my folk’s abuse didn’t usually involve lies, but it’s still a huge letdown. I’m sick of being teased with money! But I knew deep down since 2007 when other things fell through that God would see to it that we never received much more than 10K at once. If we’re still meant to be poor most of our lives, even though that’s looking less likely by the minute, He’s not going to let us have big bucks. Anything “big” is going to be what we work for and save, if we don’t win it or end up suing someone for some reason.

As we both agreed, we never liked our uncles. Both of them were just aggressive bastards who didn’t give a shit about anyone but themselves (one is dead). Except for cousin Philip back when I lived in Springfield, our aunts, uncles and cousins have never given a shit about us. Speaking of Philip, he’s living with Ruth in Florida. I was surprised to hear this. Isn’t he around 50 these days? I am a bit disappointed, though, that he never tried to look me up, but oh well. I’m used to the “family” not caring for the most part. I’ve only seen my mother twice since 1990. Once was in South Deerfield in 1991, and the last time when she and Dad drove to Phoenix in 1997 since mom has a fear of flying.

I was wrong in saying she saw Norma. She actually called her. I guess she and Mom were close for a while. She didn’t hate my mother but she hated what she’d done. She even tried talking to her. rolls eyes Look what good it did. But as most of us know, you can’t “talk” someone into being a better mother. Just like you can’t tell yourselves or others what to think, feel and believe, you can’t make a better mom with words. People can be influenced by others, but only they can change themselves. I don’t hate God because someone told me to. It was my experiences and seeing things like tsunamis instantly wipe out thousands of lives that influenced and honed my hate, along with events such as a 13-year-old rape victim in the middle east that ends up stoned to death while her rapist goes free.

She asked if I wanted anything from the condo, but again, her clothes and shoes are too big for me, we’re set on kitchen stuff, and so there’s not really anything we could use. She did say she’d send some knickknacks. I said that was fine, but not to worry about it. She knows I like bright colors, particularly pink and purple and modern things instead of antiques and earth tones. Sheets and towels are always nice too, but only if they’re in mint condition.

I didn’t think to ask what would become of her wedding ring or what became of Dad’s, but if she kept them, fine. Unlike most women, I was never big on things like jewels, furs and trips to the salon. My hair probably won’t see a pair of scissors till I’m 50 anyway.

Later…

Tom stopped at the mail place and Burger King after getting off work after 10 hours instead of 12. The fries were ok, but the chicken strips were a bit peppery. I couldn’t eat it all anyway since I’d had some clam chowder before he arrived, not knowing he was stopping for fast food on the way home.

No calls from the park and no letter from the attorney, but the new mattress is here. After I did some things I needed to do, it was so nice to relax on it after sitting at the computer for hours. It’s amazing that they can roll a 13” thick mattress into such a small duffle bag. It was a bit of a struggle getting it out of the bag, but once we did and cut the plastic seal, it started hissing as it began sucking in air. It was neat seeing it expand in just seconds, though it says it can take up to 48 hours to fully expand. It’s the perfect height for the headboard shelves because there isn’t enough of a gap for pillows to slip under it. I may still live in a trashy trailer but I sure as hell don’t have a trashy bed anymore! The mattress is firm enough to give me the support I need but doesn’t leave me feeling like I might as well be sleeping on the floor. The surface of the mattress isn’t too slippery so sheets should hold in place well and not slip and bunch beneath me.

Tammy’s youngest daughter turned 22 today. She asked about my doll collection and what I got for the ones I sold. I guess Becky’s really into the Twilight series (I’ve never seen or read any of it) and she and Sarah have gotten a lot of stuff on eBay. I told her to tell them to be careful of eBay and all the scams they’ve got going on and that they’re better off with Amazon.

Someone (Adonis?) said they didn’t get how I wouldn’t miss my mom. Yeah, I suppose if I had a loving mother I too, wouldn’t get how anyone could say they wouldn’t miss their mom. A part of me wishes I could be all emotional and balling my eyes out with tears of sadness over her impending doom and that I had this loving mother I would miss like crazy, but just like I’m determined not to let people’s precious little eggshell-like feelings stop me from expressing myself over things like the muzzies in the middle east, I’m not going to lie, play down or sugar coat my mom either. The woman was just plain mean, period. She was evil, negative, selfish, domineering, controlling and even scary till I was around 12. No doubt about it! So even if I wanted to shed a tear when she goes belly-up and even if I wanted to miss her, I couldn’t if I tried.

My one and only funny memory of the bitch was when I was quite young, like somewhere in grade school. One day we were getting ready to go somewhere. She put on her bra, she put on her underwear, and then she put on her shirt. Next she goes and does her makeup. Then she slips her shoes on, picks up her purse and declares herself ready. That’s when I burst out laughing. Yeah, the dipshit forgot to put her damn pants on!

I finally started having mobile home dreams which I’m hoping means we’re getting closer as the lack of dreams has pretty much been a sign that we weren’t close enough. I always “see” things in dreams right before we find a new place. In one dream I was admiring one with shutters outside the 4 or 5 windows that ran along one side and how they alternated in colors of pink and red. Only problem was that the place wasn’t in a park. It was in the woods.

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 13, 2012 Forgiveness may take away an abuser’s power over us, as many believe, but forgiveness is also not a conscious choice. I couldn’t forgive my mom if I wanted to. Our emotions and beliefs aren’t something we can simply pick and choose at will. Wouldn’t life be grand if they were?!

Meanwhile, I didn’t disclose in public much detail on abuse suffered by siblings or other people because I figured it wasn’t my place to do so.

Woke up to two things that put a smile on my face. A message from Nane and a voice message from Tammy basically letting me know that Mom now has a foot in the grave. She didn’t use those exact words but is going to be making arrangements to fly back down to Florida. I didn’t call her back only because I didn’t think it was necessary, though I appreciate her keeping me up to date.

The woman who ate lobster and other gourmet foods on a regular basis while her daughter struggled to make her food stamps last so she could eat cheap, fattening crap is on her way out of this world. Coincidently it’s right after the “influencer” went on an emotional rampage and mentally beat the crap out of her.

I am both thrilled and worried about her upcoming date with death. I’m thrilled for obvious reasons and I hope to hell she suffers miserably in the end as well as in the afterlife if there is one. But I also wonder – could she and would she make my life hell from the afterlife? Well, I don’t know if she could, but I suppose that if she had no problem shitting on me in this life, why not the afterlife? And if God thought it was quite ok here, why not there?

I don’t know what I feel more for my sister, sorry for her or grateful to her. I’m so sorry she has to disrupt her life yet again on top of her health problems and go down and deal with more of this evil bitch’s shit, but I’m grateful as hell to her that she is because I could never do it myself if I lived down the street.

As I told her, to each their own, but I’m not a do-right-by-God kind of person. I do right by my husband and cleaning up after my abuser just wouldn’t sit right with me.

For as long as I remember BOTH mom and dad have assured me I’d get a sizeable inheritance. It’s the least they could’ve done for their abuse. But mom just had to overspend while dad just had to give in to her every whim, and now, even though we’re doing very well indeed, we don’t get shit. But whether or not we’re poor as can be or just ok or rich as hell isn’t the point. It’s being lied to and not getting any form of “compensation” from those that have burned me that really pisses the shit out of me.

There’s also no saying what I’d do to Larry if I were there and he stepped out of line. As it is I suggested Tammy not go to the bitch’s place to clear it out (I thought it was already empty but apparently not) without the attorney present in case he tries to attack her. She has medical problems that don’t exactly leave her in very good shape, and since the police care more about what people say than what they actually do, they probably wouldn’t arrest his ass if it did go a little whacko on her, and would “justify” it by excusing his behavior on account of his state of mind over losing his mother.

Enough family drama. Although Tom’s doing OT like crazy and making us richer by the minute even though we may not feel it living in a trashy old trailer, I’m worried that we’re going to be stuck here for many more months to come while our lovely God throws even more curveballs at us to keep us from owning again. When he was dropping off our park application he overheard Sandy, the woman, he spoke to, tell someone on the phone that they couldn’t be flexible with those with no credit. We chose not to bother with credit years ago. We could establish credit if we had to, but that would take months.

The barking that’s usually reserved for weekends was an issue last night, but the Jes pest didn’t stay out overnight. Still, I wish he would just stay the fuck home so I don’t have to throw on sound machines to deal with it! All my other neighbors I wished to hell would go out more often. This one needs to stick around more often.

Later…

Accidentally “ran into” Donna’s equally evil sister Margaret. Facebook always shows people it thinks you may know, and since she was affiliated with VH, up her profile popped. I sent her a message letting her know I was glad to see she wasn’t working with kids these days and took her on a little trip down Memory Lane with the way her dear sister ostracized me and made me feel ashamed for jumping and almost sorry I didn’t do more than just bust an arm.

She reacted by blocking me. I noticed this when her profile pic was no longer visible within the list of those I’d messaged. No reply, not even any visit to my blog that I know of, she just put me out of sight and out of mind, LOL.

I also noticed that Maliheh’s profile pic changed yesterday so she’s definitely alive. I just don’t get her at times. Again, I don’t want to chat with her or anyone else every single day, but why the long absences?

Is she disabling cookies when picking up my email, or has she just not checked them in that long? It does seem kind of odd to think she’d go this long without reading my messages. I thought she once said that she reads them every few days.

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 12, 2012 What’s up with Nane? She hasn’t picked up my FB messages, but she was on my blog. I know she was on FB, though, since she “liked” some pictures someone posted. It could be a glitch in the notification system, but why do I get the feeling that she didn’t want to pick up my messages because she knew I would know it if she did? Yet she doesn’t know I know if she goes to my blog. This suggests she may have a problem with my rage toward my mother, but doesn’t want me to know it, and may figure that the best way to try to hide it is to not pick up my messages. Yet she’s still curious, so she goes to my blog?

Well, I hope she’s just busy and that my not hearing from her has nothing to do with the torrent of emotions that have been going through me on account of my mother. I know she can’t possibly relate to or understand since she seems to come from a very close, loving family, but still.

Sometimes, however, people are quick to shower you with all kinds of comments and messages when you’ve got good news to share. Get sad, mad or emotional about something that’s not good and ironically people seem to disappear. Some of them anyway, and then I’m left to wonder why. Are they really just busy or is it a coincidence? Are they just too weak to handle someone else’s emotions or tough times? Are they simply at a loss for words and just don’t know what to do or say? I wonder about these things at times. And it’s always, always those who are considered less attractive that seem to be around the most. Again I have to wonder, is this odd coincidence NOT a coincidence? Or am I just imagining it?

Nane once told me that she works hard for her money and that she doesn’t feel the least bit guilty or ashamed for it. She shouldn’t! She should be proud of herself. Well, just like she’s not the least bit ashamed or guilty for doing well in life, I’m not the least bit ashamed or guilty for how I feel about my mother (and some other family members) and I’m not about to let anyone tell me I’m wrong for it or sit in judgment of me, not that they have. I have a right to my emotions and I accept them as they are. If there are others, however, who can’t accept them as they are, that’s their problem. I don’t need, want or expect anyone’s approval about anything I think, do, feel or say.

Yes, it’s ironic that some people “happen” to not be around when we’re feeling down and could use more support from friends even if it’s just to say, “Hi, how are you? I hope you’re feeling better.” But until and if I hear otherwise, I know I shouldn’t jump the gun and assume the worst. Some people are just plain busy and we can’t expect to hear from them every day no matter what’s going on in our lives.

Now, onto more important things than why some people seem to disappear at certain times. The realtor blew us off completely. So I’m guessing that cheap doublewide either sold, something’s trying to stop us from getting a place, or we’re just meant to be in that other park. The one we completed and submitted our eligibility application to.

My allergies have been going crazy ever since I took back the old mattress and threw the plain foam topper on. Am I allergic to foam or something?

Despite the anger I’ve been experiencing over Mom’s shit, I kind of had to laugh when Tammy said she wasn’t sure which were journals as opposed to stories. I told her, though, that it would be pretty obvious. I don’t usually mix stories with reality, but if I do it would say Chapter Whatever and contain a lot of quotes, which represent dialogue.

She took the evil witch’s dog up to CT. Poor mutt. I may not be a dog fan but I know they have feelings, too. It must be quite a change for it to live half its life in a warm climate with an older couple in a condo, then to end up in a cold climate with a younger couple that has another dog and lives on 3 acres of land.

Anyway, it’s Aly I’m more worried about. I may be pissed as hell after learning some things I learned, but I’m still doing ok. She isn’t.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 11, 2012 Ok, continuing on with the family drama…by the time I was born, I already had enough reason to hate God. I was born without an ear, hard of hearing, with asthma and allergies, and to the wrong mother. I know there are worse mothers, but mine was bad enough. Then I grew up to have one dream after another denied to me. Those dreams faded with time and were no longer dreams in the end, but the point is still the same, I was denied the right to make this decision myself before they lost their appeal. Then I get shit on by life and the people in it while they basically get rewarded for it. What do I have to do to get some respect, kindness and rewards of my own from God? Go out and get a gun and pop some poor, innocent unsuspecting fucker in the face?

Tammy said that the lawyer, a guy named Walter, said he didn’t think there would be any money and would be sending me a letter stating what Tammy already told me, though Tammy said she thought I’d get her share. I already know I’m not getting shit. Meanwhile, I hope Jennifer enjoys what isn’t rightfully hers, and all the shit mom gave Larry and his child-woman which I have a feeling was much, much more than they’ve given me in the last 20 years. Tammy admits she has no idea what she gave them, but does know she gave them some dishes and silverware since they didn’t even have that much when they moved to Florida.

A few grand. Just a few lousy fucking grand! That’s all I wanted. How can any “good” God deny me even just that much on top of everything else? He has denied me so, so much in life. Why was that too much to ask for, and why does karma forget so many people? Nursing homes tend to be abusive. I’d like to think the bastard would at least see to it that her life is hell there as well as in the afterlife, but I’m sure He’s got her demented enough to think she’s in heaven. Tammy says she’s out of it a good 80% of the time. I told her to tell Mom to go fuck herself, but with my shit luck “go fuck yourself” would probably mean “you look lovely today” in the bitch’s twisted mind. All she obsesses about is beer and getting her hair done. Demented or not, that’s all she cares about. I have no desire to ever speak to her again and I hope her final moments are hell on earth and that she burns in hell!

Tammy sees things differently. She said she’ll never forgive Mom, but feels she did right by God by helping her out. Again, how can she feel she’s doing right by a being that let it all happen??? Shouldn’t she do right by herself and forget about God?

Anyway, I tried to calm Tammy, who’s sick of Larry’s shit, and remind her that once the bitch is dead, she won’t have any reason to have to associate with the pervert. I guess the pervie called her up and cussed her out for not letting him know Mom was in the hospital right away. When he was done she told him she hadn’t called yet cuz she didn’t know what the hell was going on. It was just some minor thing she was soon released for. I guess it was pain due to the stroke, but I really don’t give a damn what it was. That woman could never be in enough pain for me. Nonetheless, even the staff told him not to call the nursing home since all he does is cuss them out.

When Tammy was down in Florida she had some talks with Norma. Norma was always a good person even though I seldom saw her except for one time she upset me by telling others I was pranking her. Apparently, someone was pranking her and it was automatically assumed that it was me because of my reputation for doing that sort of thing. Then Andy had upset me further at the time when he wouldn’t believe that it wasn’t me, despite the fact that I had no problem admitting to every other call I’d ever made. He had some serious trust issues, but I know he has worked on that quite a bit. Everybody has their faults. Life isn’t about being perfect. It’s about doing something about those faults and trying not to make the same mistakes.

I still feel bad for dumping him for a decade. Oh, I still respect myself enough to rid myself of those who are rude, mean, or abusive to me, but Andy definitely didn’t deserve what he got. As long as I’m not fighting every week with someone and as long as no one’s trying to judge or control me, there’s no reason not to be friends with them as long as they don’t get pushy or obsessive.

I always liked Norma. My calling list usually consisted of those I disliked or strangers, so I had no reason to pick on Norma. That’s beside the point, though. The point is that she and Tammy had some talks and even Norma agreed mom was anything but a loving mother. She was into playing favorites, too. Where she favored Lisa when it came to her grandkids, she favored Larry when it came to her kids. I always used to say I got it the worst because I was the one who ended up a ward of the state and sent away, but I don’t know about that. I think Tammy and I both had it the worst but in different ways. She told me some things about Mom that I didn’t even know, and I don’t see why she’d lie about this. Seems mom got a little more physical than I realized she was capable of being. She not only loved to tell her she never wanted kids (I’ve heard this before too, and don’t understand why the hell she had 3 if she knew she didn’t even want 1), but she pushed her down the stairs one time and broke her leg. Nana had to bring her to the hospital the next day. She also backhanded her one day and her ring cut into the area above Tammy’s eyebrow and she needed stitches.

I got slapped around too, but maybe I didn’t get it as bad as she did because mom felt bad for my medical conditions and because I was so small. At 4 I looked like a 2-year-old. At 14 people thought I was 9. This stopped, though, once I was able to fight back. She was definitely much more abusive towards me in my preteens.

Tammy also said she told the school guidance counselor what was going on in hopes that they would keep what she told them confidential and help her somehow. Instead, she was called back to the office a while later, and guess who was sitting there?

I totally believe this because I had a similar experience. For some reason, I was afraid to go home one day (probably because I had to wake Mom up to find the outfit she wanted me to wear that day that she forgot to lay out for me the night before). The teacher asked why I was afraid to go home. I told her because I was afraid mom would hit me. Her brilliant solution to that was to have a little boy walk me home who lived nearby. Did she really think this 7 or 8-year-old boy could protect me against the wrath of a full-grown woman?

So he walks me home and we get to our street. I then tell him it’d be best to take off, but he refuses. My mother opens the door, eyeing him suspiciously. Why is her no-good daughter being escorted home by a boy? OMG, a boy! The fucking kid then goes, “The teacher asked me to walk Jodi home because Jodi said she was afraid you would hit her.” All I remember after that was cowering in the corner of the kitchen as my mother went to hit me.

The next day the boy laughed at me in school and gloated, “I saw your mother hit you.”

God protected that boy that day by not having me be willing or able to react as I am perfectly willing and able to react today.

Anyway, thank you, Mom, for the years of wonderful memories. You screwed me in life and soon you’ll screw me in death, too. Oh, and thank you too, God, for sitting back and watching it all happen. Yeah, you little bastard, you could knock an ear off me, you could deny me this, deny me that and let all kinds of assholes shit on me, but you can’t keep Tom from loving me or us from going home. And you know what else? You are NOT going to take this home away from us too, once we get there!

So like I said, I appreciate Tammy listening to me and letting me pour it all out without judging me. She never tried to say I was wrong for feeling how I feel and she never tried to change me. She also said that she hopes that next time we’re ever in need I’ll pick up the phone and call her for help. That’s sweet of her too, though no one I knew could’ve helped us if they’d wanted to had Tom not gotten a job in the nick of time. A few hundred dollars wouldn’t have saved us. The best she could’ve done was fly us to her and hold us up till we got on our feet. Just knowing she would do that for us if need be, though, is really nice. They say you learn who your true friends and family are if you ever do need food and shelter and things like that till you can make it on your own, and you know what? Tom and I intend to never have to find out if our guesses as to who’s true and who’s not are correct! That’s why we’re doing the opposite of what my parents did and are being smarter with money while we’re still young enough. I used to be bad with money too, though I wouldn’t have put our kids secondary to my spending habits if we’d had any. But still, I was a big spender for a while and that’s part of why we spend so much time broke. We weren’t “poor” until we came here. We actually did quite well through most of our marriage; it’s just that we were dumb enough to get an expensive house that sucked every last dime out of us so we couldn’t save, and what we did save I spent on needless shit like dolls. I’m not saying I’ll never buy anything for fun again, but still, I was a Dureen, if not nearly to the degree, and he was a softie like Dad who gave in to what I wanted.

If there was any good to come of the economic disaster we went through, it was that we learned to save while we can. Never again will we live paycheck to paycheck. We’re not only saving for a rainy day but saving for a thunderously stormy day as well. By buying a place outright, old dump or not, and by lowering our monthly expenses, we could save on unemployment if he were laid off again. Then after we get the renovations done all on our own like we’re going to have to, we’ll start plowing money into the 401K big time.

Do I think God will screw us some other way if He can’t get us financially? Yeah, He might. He’ll probably go after our health, but we’ll see. Maybe if we rise up enough to beat Him at His own game and show Him we refuse to lay down and be His underdogs and His little whipping boys, He’ll respect us enough to at least back off and leave us alone. Except for this shit with the will, He’s been pretty good to us this last year.

Andy’s been kind enough to be a reference for us. The park wanted two references, so we’re using him and his coworker Pam who lives there. I’m sure Tammy wouldn’t mind if we needed another one, but I doubt they’d want someone in Germany where Nane is, LOL.

Speaking of Germany, I’m not sure I like how a certain person there has basically ignored me since I told her what’s going on. I hope she’s just busy cuz I feel like I’m getting the same silent treatment I got when I shared our crisis with her a year ago. It makes me wonder if she’s one of those who can’t handle someone’s troubles or maybe doesn’t even want to. Same with Christiane. Oh, but I was quick to hear from Irene. Again, it’s always, always the ugly ones that care the most.

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 10, 2012 I type faster than a bullet yet I don’t know if my fingers can keep up with my brain as there are so many thoughts and emotions running through me right now. I will try to put to print all the details I can, but will only share this entry with the few people I’m closest to, though I may publish some of it. There’s a lot of sadness and anger in this entry and it’s anything but positive, so I’ll understand if anyone doesn’t want to read it or may just want to skim it. It could be a long one either way. It’s been a frustrating day turned emotional.

I can tell you right now, though, that I’m a firm believer in what an old therapist once told me and that’s that there is no right or wrong emotion. So I’m not about to feel guilty or ashamed for the ill feelings I have towards my mother and some others. I have always believed that if one can respect oneself enough to walk away from abusive people who aren’t related to them, one can and should do the same with abusive people who are related to them. Just because she gave birth to me doesn’t make her abuse ok. It is no ticket to tolerance as far as I’m concerned. I am not obligated to stick around and pretend I care or that I have any respect or love for the woman because I don’t. Sometimes I wish bad things upon her, but I am mostly numb with indifference. I sure wasn’t today, though. Despite all the shit my mother has put me through I’ve never wanted to harm her in any way. I mean physically. Today, however, after I got off the phone with Tammy I knew that if I suddenly appeared before her in the nursing home she’s in I’d have throttled the bitch from 80% demented to a perfect 100%.

My rage isn’t just about what she and others have done to me, it’s about them getting away with it time and time again.

“She’ll never do a day in jail for what she did to us!” I raged at Tom. “She’ll never know a day of poverty. I was vindicated in the end, but still, the black welfare bums and their pig pal will never pay for setting me up.”

“The welfare bums are still welfare bums,” Tom tried to assure me.

“But she works for the city! You know she started doing that right before she moved. City workers make big bucks.”

“Not anymore. If you still have your job with the city it’s because you accepted huge pay cuts.”

Maybe so, but none of this is good enough. God has always ALWAYS protected my perps. I don’t think, but I KNOW that if I were murdered He would not only protect my killer from the law, but He would probably also go so far as to make sure they had a pretty decent life, too. Knowing this is pretty damn scary because that’s something that takes a lot of hate. A LOT of hate. On the other hand, Tom would take care of them if he knew where they were. Still, people get compensated in court all the time for the dumbest of things, but it looks like I’m not going to get shit in the way of compensation from my abusers, thanks to their stupidity. Many think that seeking compensation be it legal or not is wrong. They also think that revenge is revenge even if it’s done through the courts by having a perp charged, convicted and sentenced.

But if people aren’t made to pay for their actions, isn’t that like saying it’s ok? The bitch is never going to pay in jail time or any other way for abusing us. Therefore, a little money would’ve helped. It wouldn’t have changed or undone the past, but it would’ve helped. I don’t expect those who haven’t been abused to get this, but regardless, it’s how I feel. Something up there felt I didn’t deserve to be born to a loving mother, so the least it could’ve done was let us have a few grand to help jump-start renovations on our new home which isn’t going to be very “new.” People say she’ll pay in the afterlife, but we can’t know that. That could be pure wishful thinking for all we know.

I’ve learned that the bad guys aren’t always the bad guys and the smart guys aren’t always the smart guys. I’ve been old enough long enough to know my parents weren’t these strong, perfect people we often see them to be as kids. I know they have their weaknesses. I know they’ve made mistakes. But it seems I didn’t quite realize the extent of it till now. Or maybe I had some idea but I just didn’t get it. I’m not good with numbers. I have always been as bad with numbers as I am good with writing and learning languages.

One day I realized I had achieved fluency, though not perfect fluency, in Spanish. I now knew three languages. But that wasn’t enough. Three languages just weren’t enough. So I kept studying languages and writing stories but I never bothered with going beyond basic math abilities and even my “basics” are shaky. Nane explained her job to me and I didn’t get it. I just didn’t get it. I told Tom what she said and he explained it to me. I still didn’t get it. For all I know a presentation is me presenting what’s left of my doll collection for one to see. A performance is something I see on YouTube. Funds are something my twisted country gives too much of to other countries because it refuses to take care of its own. That’s all I know.

Tom always said not to defend, excuse or play down the situation, but my parents’ money is theirs to do as they please with, and that we should appreciate the help they gave us when we needed it in 2007 and see consider anything else as just an appreciated bonus.

If they hadn’t been such shitty parents, then maybe I could see it that way, but it’s not that easy.

So many people believe there’s a good God out there, but I have believed – no, I’ve known – that there is something up there that has hated me for the most part. It hasn’t shortchanged me when it came to true love and good friends, but it’s had it in for me in almost every other way imaginable.

Before we left Oregon we had two huge letdowns from two different potential moneymaking sources. I won’t get into what they were, but that’s when reality hit me. It was winter of 2007 and that’s when I realized that “God” or whatever’s up there would see to it that we never had much money and may even fight to keep us struggling most of our lives.

Then his pitiful excuse of a mother disowned us for daring to ask for help after we helped her and lost thousands of dollars to her that she promised to repay but never did. When I thought of those two lost opportunities and then realized that we wouldn’t get an inheritance from either of our parents (although at the time I thought we wouldn’t get anything from my folks because we weren’t talking), this was when I lost any last doubts that something was out to curse us financially just as much as it had with neighbors and other things.

Sure enough, half a year later we moved down to Cali to better our lives in a place we thought had more opportunity. Then the economy collapsed. I don’t have to be a financial genius to know it will never get better. It’s too far gone to ever make much of a comeback. It must be torn down and rebuilt from scratch to be “repaired,” but this is never going to happen because people are just too stupid to know any better. Or to at least do what needs to be done instead of just talking about it.

I’ve been back in touch with my parents since 2007 after a 10-year quiet spell brought on by shit they pulled that I won’t bother to get into. Andy is the only one I regret dumping, but I’m getting off-topic. Well, I never would’ve been back in touch with them if it weren’t for our moment of desperation back when we were in motels. We’d spent 36 hours on the streets and then pawned and sold some stuff to get a room for the night. Tom was in a real Catch-22. He couldn’t go to work because he had to spend time selling things. So we were losing money while trying to make it. We lived like real bums as if we were lazy, drug-dependent people who didn’t give a shit. I hated God above with a passion and I still do. We were genuine bums while some others lived high off the hog simply for breathing. It isn’t those who work hard and gets what they deserve I have a problem with, as I said in a previous entry, it’s those who work hard that DON’T get what they deserve that really pisses the shit out of me. But the point is that that’s the only reason I reached out to them at the time. Hell, I’d have reached out to Jeffrey Dahmer had he been our only option! At the time I thought they were still doing ok since they overnighted $450 to us, plus paid for a couple of nights at the hotel. Even so, a sudden thought hit me later on down the road – that God would make sure to screw me out of my inheritance some other way.

Through online research and other things, we’ve come to suspect that their money dwindled the older they got. For one, mom was always a high spender. It was always more important to her that her fucking mutts had bows in their ears as opposed to her kids having enough to eat. Between the constant spending, the economy collapsing, and their acquiring more medical problems with age, I suspected they were going broke.

“I tried to tell you this, sweetie,” Tom said to me. “No one their age works just to keep active. They work because they need the money, only they would have hidden the fact that they were going broke.”

That’s true, too. That’s definitely something they would’ve tried to hide from people. It’s not like they’d be quick to brag and say, “Hey, we once inherited a ton of money, but we weren’t the least bit smart about our money and so we blew it all and left nothing for our kids. At least not the ones that deserve it most.” Dad did, however, say the economy got them down so bad they couldn’t even save, and what they did save had to go to medical expenses. Still, when I learned that Jennifer (Larry’s 30-year-old daughter) is to be getting money as well as a valuable chest mom’s parents had while I may not get shit, that made me want to strangle the bitch like never before! This estranged granddaughter of hers who doesn’t even know she exists, much less give a damn about her, is going to get what should be mine. Tammy said she doesn’t want her fucking money, but I’m just the opposite. I want to milk the bitch for every cent I can. Why not, people do this to people in court for a helluva lot less than what my mother’s done to us over the years. Jennifer, on the other hand, appears to have a full-fledged nursing career. Well, guess what folks? I don’t have any career. Our lovely God has seen to it that I not only can’t work but also can’t collect disability either. So once again Jodi gets the short end of the stick. She doesn’t get what she deserves while someone else gets what they don’t deserve. Thank you, God. Thank you so much for caring about me.

Tammy initially asked me what I wanted from the house, but as I told her, Mom and Dad’s material things don’t interest me. All I wanted was money to help with the upcoming move and I thought we’d get at least a few grand. Had I known exactly what Jennifer was going to take and that we’d be fucked out of money, I’d have asked Tammy to try to get it to me before she could get it and then I’d have sold it. Tammy said she went through the place looking for things of value but there wasn’t much of anything. The only other thing of value is their vehicle but that has to go to pay off their fucking debts which I’ll get to soon enough.

This is why I was furious to learn Larry had knocked his child-woman up. Tom had asked what I could possibly have against this unborn child and that it doesn’t matter how many grandkids one has since it’s just the kids that inherit, but not in my family. When I remembered how my mom’s parents gave each of their 5 grandkids 2K, I figured she would give to her grandkids as well. Well, even if the bastard’s born to a 21-year-old welfare bum with daddy issues, it still counts as a grandkid. If the fucking pervert had just waited till the bitch was dead, then he could knock up the whole damn world for all I care. So not only has God helped ensure me no compensation, He “replaced” the son the pervert killed in 1995 with his carelessness. As I always said, God killed the wrong Larry that night.

I didn’t realize just how careless and downright dumb both my parents were either, her with her overspending and warped priorities, him with his being too soft and not having a backbone of his own. It’s very common with Jewish couples for the woman to wear the pants. He did whatever she wanted. He stood by her no matter what. That’s my only complaint about my otherwise cool, easygoing dad. He just wouldn’t put his foot down. When she got abusive he looked the other way, not that he was totally exempt from the abuse himself. Oh, he could say some nasty things at times, and he had a way with his belt when he got pissed enough. But still, there was no comparison between him and her. I don’t think, but I know that had she killed one of us he would have stayed with her just the same AND the bastard above would have protected her and made sure she never did 5 minutes in jail.

Things were the same with her own parents. Jack wore the leash and Shirley controlled that leash. When Shirley told Jack to jump, Jack jumped.

“Jack, don’t breathe!”

Jack didn’t breathe.

The plan was to dump Tammy as soon as they both died and we got whatever may be coming to us, but now I’m not so sure that’s necessary. There is a connection between two sisters who were abused and I’m not so sure the enemy really is the enemy anymore. She still swears it was Bill and Bill only who called the pigs when I threatened him for his treatment of her and Lisa, but she did admit to and apologize for other things. I had feared she would try to burn me again because she can be more spiteful and vengeful than I used to be once upon a time. I know she’s just itching to report Larry’s child-woman to the Massachusetts Welfare office for living with the baby’s working father in Florida. But I think she has gotten above and beyond some of the things she used to do, and I wouldn’t be dumb enough to give her ammunition to use against me by doing the kinds of things I used to do, like threaten cocks like Bill. I’m either going to just do it or keep such threats to myself.

I just didn’t get her for a while there. I’d slap the shit out of any man that was as rude and disrespectful to me as Bill and others were to her. But as she said, that was all she knew for so long. Tammy’s 8 years older than me and Larry’s just 3 years older than her. When she was alone with him, he’d be like mom and kick her around. I know it’s common for a lot of women who were abused as kids to seek out abusive men or to become abusive themselves by beating their husbands, boyfriends and kids. That’s how Paula is. If she has a hard day, she takes it out on whatever guy she’s with whether she’s PMSing or not. Some of it is still the guy’s fault, too. They provoke women either thinking they can’t or won’t fight back, though we rarely hear about abused men because they are often ashamed and embarrassed to admit they took one from a woman. It is still believed that bigger is always stronger, regardless of physical fitness and state of mind.

Anyway, she admitted that sending Tom that letter in defense of her abuser was wrong and that it was on account of her low self-esteem. She swears she knew I was still in Arizona when we left Phoenix, but didn’t know where we’d moved to or Tom’s family’s name in order to call and trace us through them as they would’ve been dumb enough to disclose that info. If this is really true, then I’m suspecting the outstanding warrant that was out on me at the time pushed the pigs to hunt me down. I don’t blame her for the warrant on account of the white/Jew-hating welfare bums that set me up with the help of their pig pal (I won’t get into how he did it) for the city complaint we lodged. If we didn’t know it was out on me, then she certainly couldn’t know about it. If the pigs make a case against you, they put out court subpoenas and then warrants when you don’t show up, even if they don’t know where you are and can’t serve you. Well, we had no mail service at our Maricopa house, so they couldn’t have served me their little court call. It was when the pig came to the house on account of Bill that they routinely ran a check and discovered the warrant.

So as Tammy and I both agree, we’re thrilled to know Bill’s cancer has returned and I hope to hell he suffers miserably for having a hand in costing me half a year of my life and thousands of dollars, not to mention emotional distress like crazy. You know what else? I don’t care who may think I’m wrong for saying so! I would still beat that cock’s ass if it materialized before me, only now it would be for different reasons than I had when I sent the letter I sent him.

I’ve chosen not to actively seek revenge on anyone be it legally or not because I always get punished for doing so. God screws me by letting others screw me, and He screws me if I try to fight back.

There’s a difference between those I don’t want anything to do with and those I hate so damn much I could not only never forgive them, but know I would mutilate if they magically materialized before me. Kim and Molly are people I want nothing to do with. I don’t like them one bit. But I don’t hate them either. I can forgive people for the kind of shit they pulled on me even if that might still mean I don’t want to associate with them.

But every single person that had a hand, both directly and indirectly, in getting me thrown in jail, is a whole different story. Even if I’d been 100% guilty of writing such a mean, threatening letter to our less-than-kind welfare bums who drove us crazy at our own expense since it was our tax dollars that allowed them to sit on their asses and raise hell, who the hell deserves to go to jail for half a year and then lose thousands of dollars for a fictitious letter?!?! For a fucking letter that, had it been real, was mere words on paper that no one was forced to read, mean or not. That was sent to an adult and not a child.

But everything was all about how black they were, and poor poor blackie this and poor poor blackie that. And of course they had kids and we didn’t. Well, the two measly little pranks I pulled on them – totally provoked by them in the first place – doesn’t mean I deserved what I got! Right or wrong, you can’t pick on someone for 3 years and not expect a reaction. So yes, I pulled a couple of pranks but it was nothing compared to what was pulled on us as neighbors and then through the law when we moved and tried to escape their shit. Never once was their credibility and integrity ever questioned. They casually and freely lied in court and to the media, no questions asked. All the blame was 100% thrown on me. Never once were they asked if they instigated anything. No one knows about the endless hours of noise, trash and vandalism we went through on account of these assholes. I was so, so hurt and definitely offended when no one (except for the few who were powerless to help me) would listen to or believe a word I would say in my own defense. Well, then why did they fucking ask?! Words can’t describe how pissed I’d be when people would ask why they did certain things, I would answer, and then they’d say, “Nah, that wasn’t why,” even though they never lived there or met the assholes.

I know what happened and I know why it happened. So does my husband. If you don’t have a hold on me of any kind, then I have no reason to bullshit you. If I were a drinker and on probation and asked by my PO if I drank and the answer was really yes, you bet I’d lie in that case. But if one doesn’t have a hold on me, don’t expect any tall tales from me because you can’t use the truth against me in any way. You can not like it, but you can’t beat me over the head or control me with it in any way or spank me and send me to bed without any dinner.

The fucking judge made up his mind about me before he even heard me speak in court. This perfect stranger donned a black robe and sat in judgment of me and a situation he knew virtually nothing about other than a pack of lies from one side and one side only. He wasn’t there. My husband and I were. No matter how many false assumptions were made, no one gave a shit and no one would listen to me.

Although my family has nothing at all against gays, it hates blacks and Muslims. While I may hate people as a whole I have always tried to judge people based on their individual behavior and not their color. But like it or not the vast majority of blacks, at least in America, have been determined to “avenge” the past and make the whites of today, who have absolutely nothing to do with the slavery of the past, pay in some way. They’re using their race against us like crazy and it’s automatically our word against theirs. This pisses me off same as people blaming today’s Germans for Shitler’s shit. But I not only can’t have a White History Month or a white whatever without being called racist, but I also can’t have a black person charged with a hate crime should one attack me for being white. How is that any more correct than it is to deny gays equal rights?

Although I was vindicated in the end, there is no record whatsoever to show this that I know of. That’s another wonderful thing about this country which even my sister is coming to hate (I told her I’ve been thinking of trading it in someday for Spain), we air people’s dirty laundry out, but we seldom air their victories out. So I have nothing to show for the vindication that came 2 ½ years too late other than the memory of a phone call early one morning in the late spring of 2003. Scared the living shit out of me, too. It was just after 6am and when I saw it was my PO I thought, “Oh no! They’ve set me up again! They’ve accused me of some shit I have no way to prove I’m innocent of and now I’m gonna get another 3 years or worse.” But it was my PO giving me the good news. I’ll never forget that day. I ran around the house grinning like a mad idiot. Then I was overcome with this strange, sickening urge to hurt myself. Why? Because I was so used to some form of abuse, for once I wanted the abuser to be me so I had no one to blame but myself. I never did hurt myself, though. Just vowed to never ever forgive God.

Getting off-topic again. Sorry! I admit that for a while I was so disgusted with my sister that I couldn’t stand to even look at her picture. Then I just didn’t know what to believe. The family is filled with a web of deceit and illusions that’d make anyone’s head spin. As flaky, weird, and childish as I can sometimes come across with my playful nature, I like to think I’m both sharp-minded and with a good sense of character, but sometimes even I don’t always know what to think.

Tammy has expressed a desire to move on, chat with Tom sometime, and have me get to know Mark who I will admit does sound very kind and loving. They’ve been together for over 10 years now. The only two people he hates are Bill and Larry, LOL. I asked Tom how he felt about my keeping in touch and he saw no harm in it and agrees the past is the past, and regardless of who did what, it can’t be changed anyway. Well, I don’t want to make any decisions right now one way or the other, but I did make it clear to her that we’ll never return to New England. Oh yes, she and I are true opposites. We don’t look alike, we don’t share any of the same interests, and where she likes a seasonal climate, I like a warm one. They didn’t like Florida at all and are thinking of swapping Connecticut in for either Maine or New Hampshire. Ugh! Even so, some people just think the world is all wrong if the leaves don’t turn colors and fall off. It’s still wrong if it doesn’t snow and then the leaves don’t sprout themselves in the spring. And it’s totally wrong to step outside on Christmas to find it 80°. The only time I like it cool is when I’m sleeping and working out, but that means 70°, not 7° with snow and ice. So she can keep her hot chocolate to cuddle up with by the fire while I run around in shorts and sports bras.

I will admit I was a bit of an absentee aunt there for a while even after we slowly started communicating again, for two reasons. One was because Lisa and Sarah were very rude to me in 2010, especially Lisa, Two, I saw it as friend mixing which can be a bad concoction at times that has a way of backfiring on you. Well, I didn’t want to get caught up in the “he said, she said” game. I’m still keeping my distance, though I have no hard feelings at all and wish them the best. Maybe we’ll talk in the future or maybe we won’t.

She got a new laptop, but won’t be back online till the 18th. Poor girl’s got over 100 pounds on me, too. I guess she’s on some medication that’s got steroids in it and it makes a person anything but slim. Everyone’s so tall in the family except for me, though that fucking bitch of a mother of mine wasn’t that big. About 5’ 3”, 160 pounds.

Back on topic yet again. I was under the impression all 3 of Tammy’s girls were anti-Larry, but apparently, Lisa’s been in touch with him. I guess the pervert called her to ask what Tammy took from the condo or something like that. Anyway, Tammy went off on a tangent about Lisa. I guess that Lisa’s caused all kinds of problems for the family, and Bill and her sisters don’t want anything to do with her or at least not much. I won’t get into what it was Lisa said to me a couple of years ago but right away I could see that something was off. She’s obviously not right in the head, but I doubt it’s in the way Molly’s fucked in the head, and I think a lot of her problems were Tammy and Bill induced. I don’t know her well enough to judge, and I don’t want to get involved with any family problems that don’t pertain to me. Nonetheless, Tammy went on and on about Lisa raising hell and “trying” to hang onto the relationship but getting fed up.

First I really poured out our past struggles to Tammy and she really listened and never judged me for my feelings and beliefs (she used to hate God like I do but now thinks He’s just great) and for that, I really appreciate her.

I try never to condemn anyone for their beliefs but I don’t get how she can be such a fan of God. He let the abuse happen. So that’s another one I don’t get. Wouldn’t my buddying up to God be like a woman buddying up to her rapist? But I can see where if one has a relatively good childhood and doesn’t struggle much as an adult and usually gets what they want, they would be quicker to say God was good. If I suddenly won a million dollars, I wouldn’t say God was good since the damage has already been done, but it would help. I still think, for reasons we’ll probably never know, God sees people as we do. Some He hates, some He likes, some He loves. If being a 1 out of 10 means being the most hated, then I’d say I’m probably a 3 or 4 overall, but if you take just this last year of my life, I’d say I’ve moved up to an 8 or 9. Regardless, He let so many people use, abuse and walk all over me, and then He gave them 100% guaranteed protection. How do I “buddy up” to that?

“We lived like bums while mom and dad lived high off the hog!” I shouted to Tammy. “Never consider yourselves bums,” she said.

Oh, I don’t. It’s her lovely God that apparently does. It’s her lovely God who felt my husband deserved 28 months of employment while his wife deserved a sleep disorder. Nonetheless, we struggled our asses off in a tiny trashy trailer for years. I tried to tell myself it was better than some slum in a third-world country, but this isn’t no third-world country! This is the US of fucking A!

I have tried praying for things I’ve needed and wanted, but the results were inconclusive. If I got some of the things in the end it was probably a coincidence that would’ve happened anyway. I have, however, noticed that if I cuss God out and really let Him know what I think, I get punished for it. Things just get worse. They break or other minor inconveniences start escalating. So I am forced to keep in most of my emotions since He obviously can’t handle them and doesn’t want to hear them. So I won’t belittle myself by crawling to this entity that so obviously hates me so, but I try to keep the cussing spells to a minimum.

She was happy for us and how we’re house hunting now, and said she just got a bedroom set she loves. Well, I’m happy for her in return, and although we could do it all ourselves if we had to (it would just take a year or two), I really hoped the least my mother could do after the years of hell she put me through was contribute enough to at least jump-start the renovations and new furniture and all that stuff. That was the least the bastard above could’ve helped see that we got if He gave a damn about me at all, but no, of course not. At least it doesn’t look that way.

Ok, here’s what happened that really got me furious as hell. Tammy said that when Dad was dying he muttered, “It’s not enough. I’m sorry. It’s not enough. I’m sorry.” But she didn’t get it till she learned some things right before mom had a stroke. Well, the store just sold for 50K, but they owed that much on the condo. Then not too long ago, Mom took out a 50K loan which Tom later confirmed he saw online. So now they’re up to owing a little over 100K. Tammy wanted to list the condo for 120K. Not in this economy, the realtor told her.

Why oh why do I feel like God “guided” them and set things up to end up this way just so I wouldn’t get shit? If I’m psychic enough to know other things, mostly through dream premonitions, why would I be wrong about Him or something else up there hating us?

I’ve pounded out half a dozen pages of raw emotion and I’m getting kind of tired. I’ll continue on with the saga later.

Later…

My day started off frustrating and full of tech issues, but then it turned downright sad and infuriating. I am currently composing an entry about it that will only be shared with my closest friends. It’s long, sad and very graphic, so those I share it with may not want to read it. That’s ok. It’s their choice. But if I email it to them they’ll at least have the choice to make. It will probably be done sometime tomorrow. Right now I’m too tired to finish that or write much else.

I woke up with a backache and hip pain and was reminded of why I hate this overly firm mattress so much. I look very forward to the new one coming soon.

Then it was off to fight with phones, keyboards and fans that didn’t want to work right, along with the usual Internet issues. Right now it’s out cold so who knows if I can post this when I’m done.

We’ve been looking at places in the park that his coworker lives in as I’ve mentioned before. But then last night Tom found a good deal on a doublewide. It’s being sold through a realtor, but we’re definitely interested in checking it out. It’s old and ugly but we can make it pretty. It’s 1200 square feet which is better than 720 or 2000, and it’s a corner lot. Satellite images show the roof looks horrible, but it is in otherwise good condition for a 1977 model. Ugly colors, but they can be changed.

So we’ve got a slight change in plan. Because it’s a lot of house for so little money, we’re going to check into that first. We’ll probably still be out of here sometime next month, no matter what we move into. We now have adequate savings to get something decent enough. It’s just a matter of finding the right place and going through the paperwork.

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 9, 2012 Got my first view from the troll yesterday evening. Just a quick visit to my MO blog, but hopefully she’ll be kept too busy to make more than just an occasional quick glance.

“What if you’re really dead, Jodi? What if you really did die the night of October 1st of last year, and what if the wonderful year you’ve had is nothing more than an illusion or wishful thinking from the afterlife?” some anonymous being in my dreams asked me last night.

I answered the same way I would for real; that I’d rather “think” I was living the good life before I knew for sure I was suffering in any way.

Regardless, I slept horribly last night. Another inner wall of the airbed let go, making its shape rather unsleepable. So I deflated the piece of shit and tossed it out on the porch. Then I folded the 4” memory foam topper in half along with the 1” plain foam topper, never more glad for my child-size body, fat or not, and slept on that while he slept on the original foam mattress.

So I settled in for the night and was not only immediately reminded of why I hate memory foam with the way it causes you to sag and overheat, but the whole ensemble was tilted for some reason. I guess that would be due to some parts of the foam being worn out. It’s a miracle I didn’t wake up with a backache, but the makeshift mattress wasn’t thick enough to cause my body to sag to the degree that it did when the memory foam was atop the original mattress.

Then it hit me that I had been stupid. I could’ve just blown up the airbed we got before the last two, and assuming no inner walls let go, that could be used until the new deluxe mattress gets here in about a week even though it does have a tiny leak in it. Yeah, we finally decided to do what we should’ve done all along and got a real quality mattress from Amazon. Shipping was free, but with taxes, it cost about $270. It should be well worth it. It’s a 13” independently cased coil pillow-top mattress. Even if it’s not quite as comfortable as an airbed, I shouldn’t be waking up with backaches like I used to, and it should definitely last a long time.

As Tom said, though, we were more stupid than I thought since we could’ve just thrown the futon’s mattress in there for now, LOL. Once the platform was bare I went and pulled up all the duct tape that we placed over the screw heads to protect the airbeds, then we threw the original mattress on and topped it off with the plain foam topper. Lastly, we threw the memory foam topper on the futon’s barely plush mattress. So I’ll at least not be sagging too much or feeling like I’m having hot flashes until the new mattress arrives.

We’re doing the paperwork required for the park and I tweaked some online settings too, assuming they’ll look us up online. You won’t find anything on Tom, but I did have the links to my blogs on Facebook set to public. Well, you never know what things people may judge you by, so I set those to friends only for now. Once we get in, assuming we really do, I can open that back up later.

He’s going to type up a letter about our ownership and rental history for the last 10 years. I told him to make sure he lets me read it before he prints it out, knowing what spelling and grammar errors he may make and that if he thinks it’ll take him 5 hours and 45 minutes to do it, have me do it instead. We also shot pictures of our IDs and other things.

His total earnings for the first year at this job are definitely going to be above average. It’s about fucking time, too! It was never those who got what they deserved I had a problem with. It’s those NOT getting what they deserve I have a problem with. I will never forgive God above, if there is one, for reducing us to such bummery and making such bums out of us cramped into this trashy old trailer for so long. I didn’t ask for my sleep disorder and my husband never asked to spend 28 months on unemployment. I’ll NEVER be His bum again and neither will my husband!

Speaking of work, I’m going back to my job as an artificial intelligence worker as soon as we’re moved and with a better connection, not because we’ll need the extra money but so I can feel like I’m working too, in ways that go beyond just keeping up the place. I’m also going back to sweeping, but don’t know if I can win the hundreds to thousands of dollars a month in cash and prizes that I used to be able to win. Psychic or not, there’s just too much competition these days.

I started to get pissed off when I saw I gained back the two pounds I half-starved off last week with just one day of pigging out. But not only did I realize it wasn’t all for nothing after all since I wasn’t two pounds above what I put back on, but it’s already backed off. I decided not to pig out again, though, until I’ve lost 4 pounds.

Really hope these views from Arizona are just random coincidences. First Surprise, then Maricopa, now Mesa.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 8, 2012 Can’t decide what I want to do today and when. I guess his jeans would be dry in time if I waited till I got up tomorrow to finish the laundry.

So that leaves my workout time to be decided. Should I take another day off or should I work out today? I think I’ll take today off. I’ll shower, cook us a big pot of spaghetti which I know Tom would love to dive into after having to work today, and then I can just relax the rest of the day away unless I decide to do laundry this evening.

We definitely have to order a new bed. Another section of the airbed’s inner wall let go. We’ll order a coil mattress. It may not be as comfortable, but at least it can’t leak or fall apart.

I was thinking of Mom and wondering why Tammy never called with an update last week. I’m guessing it’s because there’s been no change, but I’ll call Tammy next week anyway. I still have such mixed emotions where my mother is concerned and I know I always will. It’s a sad situation in itself to lose your husband of 62 years and then be on death row in a nursing home. But try as I will, I cannot forget the years of misery she inflicted upon me both directly and not. Besides, I’m sure the nursing home she’s in is like a luxury country club compared to the places I ended up in on account of her not being able to cope with motherhood, right God?

I get pissed at those who blame today’s Germans for the shit Shitler and his bunch of whackos pulled for same the reason I get pissed when some of the black folks think whites owe them because of the past. Well, no one in Germany these days has anything to do with Shitler, and no one in America today has anything to do with slavery. Should I blame my ingrown toenail on George Washington?

Wish my nails were big enough to do certain designs, but they’re so tiny no matter how long they are. I won’t be able to get more than one letter from the newspaper on my pinkies. I got fed up and cut them off. I cut them outside. Will the next tenant find them and use them as fake nails? LOL, it’s nice to be able to type easily again and I can even make a tight fist again.

Guess who’s zooming out right now not knowing we’ll be U-hauling our asses outa here soon enough? Still wish we could know when he’d be out long enough to sneak out in the U-Haul instead of giving him notice. Then if he calls about it we can say, “What are you talking about? We’re still here.” LOL

I was flattered to receive a good night “kiss” from Christiane yesterday, LOL. I usually let my “pokes” build up and return them in groups. Well, she poked back as soon as I poked her and I said, “Wow, you’re up early.” It was only 4:30 in the morning in Germany, but she said she was just going to bed late instead and signed off with a cute little kiss icon. Ooh!

FRIDAY, SEPTEMBER 7, 2012 Got some exciting news which I really REALLY hope I can post before 9am my time when the hottest woman in Europe takes off for the weekend cuz I can’t get online now. I was on long enough to pick up messages after I awoke, but now it’s out again. But since I usually do my entries in Word, I’ll just get on with it and hope I can post this once it’s done.

Tom asked the lady at work who lives at the park we’re looking into about barking. She says it’s not a problem at all. She said that when someone passes by people who are out walking dogs they sometimes yip at them, but otherwise it’s not like the mainstream. Yeah, well let’s hope Fido doesn’t go off on anyone passing by when he’s let out to take a dump just a few feet from our windows. In other good dog news, they must be kept indoors – yay! So they can’t just tie them up outside before they go to work or when they go out to run errands. I was so glad to hear this! I hope this will deter people from wanting dogs because, for reasons I don’t get, most Westerners don’t believe dogs belong indoors.

Tom said the people managing the place are super nice, and the more he talked to them, the more he doesn’t think there’ll be much trouble getting a place, and that if anything our credit will be just a minor hiccup. We both agree, however, that we don’t want to go from one single-wide dump to another just because it can be ours and much cheaper to rent the lot it’s on than to rent this one from pesky Jesse. We would rather wait for what we want which is a doublewide. It may not be very new and it may need some serious cosmetic surgery, but at least we wouldn’t have settled. As Nane said, if it doesn’t “feel” right, we’re not going to go with it. As annoying as Jesse and his mutts can be we’re not in a desperate situation here like we were in Phoenix, so there’s no need to act in haste. Besides, we have to do the paperwork and let them do the credit check.

He asked about closing costs and all that stuff and I guess there wouldn’t be any of that if we bought a place that was owned by the park as opposed to one a realtor’s selling. It’s a big park with hundreds of homes. He only saw 3, none of which we would want since they were 1-bed, 1-bath, but they said they have about 16 either up for sale or almost up for sale. They’re remodeling and fixing some of them now. They fix anything crucial that needs to be fixed before they sell them.

The average lot these homes are on rent from $400 - $850. Ours will probably be in the $500 - $650 range. This includes trash and sewer, but I’m not sure about gas and water. Probably not those two, and definitely not electric.

Another thing that appealed to us about this particular park is that it’s only 6 miles from where he works instead of 18.

Some of these parks don’t border on mainstream residential areas, but part of this one does. Therefore, we have to make sure we don’t take a place in that section or else we’ll get slammed with tons of barking. Tom was hit with it when they showed him one of the expandos which they call single-wides that have been expanded with add-ons.

The park has more amenities than I thought it did which is super cool. Here, if I want to go outdoors there’s not only any place to go, but I have to hope I don’t get sprayed by skunks or that a bear doesn’t jump out at me. I still love the country way better than the mainstream city, but still, there’s not much I can do out here in the mountains. At the park, though, there’ll be plenty of level streets for bike riding. They also have a pool, a spa, a library, a sauna, a game room, and a laundry room we could use until we got our own washer/dryer.

That’s another thing, the manager said they usually gut the homes before selling them when someone either moves out or dies, so it’s unlikely that we’re going to have a dishwasher, washer or dryer when we move in. On the bright side, we get to pick out the exact ones we want. We really like the idea of getting one of those two-in-ones that both wash and dry clothes. They’re only a couple hundred dollars more than a washer/dryer set. I’m not very hopeful for a dishwasher because there may not be room for one, but that’s not something I have to have. I’m just tired of having to hook up a little puny washer and then hang clothes in here! I want to walk up to a normal, full-size washer and dryer that’s always hooked up and ready to go. Oh, those little luxuries I’ve missed so much that so many people take for granted.

They have potluck dinners too, which brought back a funny memory of when Andy and I lived at the same apartment complex in Arizona in the early 90s that was ruled by a bitch named Stacey which I sort of developed a crush on. Yeah, I’ve got a thing for those tall bitches, LOL. It said to bring a dish. Well, we thought “bring a dish” meant to bring a dish to pile food on. Instead, it really meant, “Bring a dish of free food since you’ll be eating for free, too.” But they let us load up our “dishes” anyway, hahaha.

If we go with a more expensive place where the monthly expenses are comparable to this place, fine. Not only is that ok since we’d be getting so, so much more for the money, but we’ve shown we can save at least $500 a month here. So after we got what we wanted for the place, why couldn’t we save there, too? The most important thing is making sure there’s at least enough to go out and grab and old junker with should this car completely crap out in a way that’s not worth fixing. That would be mostly in the way of engine failure. All other maintenance and repairs Tom can do on his own. He’s always maintained his own vehicles.

So, two more steps – hoping the credit check goes through ok, and then waiting till what we want becomes available.

The excitement and shock of it all hit me again last night and I cried tears of happiness. For years I told myself we would never own again because I didn’t believe it was even remotely possible. It may be a manufactured home as opposed to an on-siter, but it’s still a home, and we can have it paid off in 3 years or less. I don’t like how we’d always have to pay rent for the lot it’s on, but it’s worth it with all the park has to offer. I’d rather that than pay nothing in the mainstream where people refuse to control their dogs and kids, and are always driving by blasting music, though this state isn’t nearly as bad for car stereos as Oregon and Arizona.

I can’t wait to go swimming – woo-hoo! It just may be too cold a part of the year.

It still blows my mind to think that on September 16th, not quite a year ago, we were trying to figure out the best way to die so we wouldn’t have to slowly starve off on the streets when the money ran out. Now we’re figuring out the best home to buy, OMG! My eyes are stinging with tears right now. We had a helluva lot more than just a foot in the grave. I will never forget October 3rd either. After that miracle call came through and saved us, I was sitting here writing when it hit me that by now the landlord would probably be discovering our bodies. shudders at the thought Now here I sit not even a year later, tears streaming down my face to know we survived such an ordeal and are on the road home and that day is coming soon just like Tom and Nane said. That is going to be one seriously emotional day for me.

Other things hit me too, and I ran to Tom and said, “Our baby’s been born! If it’s that close, she (but probably he) has been born by now. He’s only a few inches long and hasn’t got any fur yet, but he’s out there. He EXISTS! And he’s waiting to be taken home by his future mom and hugged and squeezed. Yeah, being the rodent junkie that I am, I doubt we’ll get a dog of our own. I’d only want to take my straightening iron to its tongue every time it barked and woke me up.

Later…

Thank you, Hanna, for letting me know you passed the message I sent you to your mother Stacey since I was unable to message Stacey directly, by disallowing messages. Stacey had that disabled on her own account, so instead, I picked her oldest daughter to share some old memories with. As in some of my 1993 journal entries. I almost wish I saved them just so I could laugh at them, but I know what’s in them. Stacey also let me know she heard about it by way of not only not accepting my friend invite but by blocking me. But did Hanna pass it on and did Stacey read it if she did? I would think she would be curious to see what her own kid was sent, but those who are that unforgiving and unable to move on as Stacey is usually don’t care what anyone has to say about them. They just want to spite them or avoid them. Or both.

Bitch looks smoking hot, though. That much is for sure. Her husband’s profile pic is a shot of them next to a Christmas tree and the bitch is almost movie-star gorgeous with her tall, slim body, perfect teeth and face free of sags and wrinkles. How do some people get so lucky? This woman’s not only younger than fat, sagging little me, if only by a year, but she’s had 3 kids. I’m sure that quite unlike me, God has blessed her with everything she could ever want and that what she can’t get is probably no big deal to her anyway. She’s got a beautiful home unlike anything we’ll ever have, she and her husband no doubt have great jobs, and of course they can both drive and keep schedules just fine. They probably still have a rocking sex life, too.

Her kid was listed on another site as being of mixed ethnicity, but what could that be? If she had all her kids with the same guy, and I assume she did, he looks exactly like what I picture Stacey to go for – someone much like herself. He’s damn near bald and his hair may be a touch darker than Stacey’s, but he’s just another blue-eyed whitey, though I’d say Stacey’s eyes are bordering on hazel and her hair bordering on light brown.

THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 6, 2012 Bad news from Aly. First, though, she thought I was done with her as a friend because she said she sent a couple of messages I never returned. I must not have gotten them, as I told her, and I thought she was done with me too, LOL.

Anyway, the poor girl cut up her hands really bad washing a vase that broke, and she and Dustin are so poor right now they’re struggling to sell and pawn things. We know what that’s like! :(

Molly went into the group home on Monday so it was probably her that looked in on me until Saturday. I figured she must’ve taken Sunday to pack, then was gone come Monday. What sucks is that she reactivated an old account to send numerous messages to Regina asking Aly to keep in touch, as she’ll have her laptop with her. That totally sucks to know she can get online from the group home. Totally. But hopefully they’ll keep her busy enough that it can’t be often. As of yet, though, no Austin, TX visitors have appeared on my list.

Finally had a dream we were actually packing up and getting ready to move. Only problem is I never saw where we were going. I “saw” bits and pieces of this place and the last one before we found it. In Oregon, I saw the chain link fence, the picket fence and the side the driveway and bedrooms were on. Here I saw the forest and me looking out windows through binoculars. Seeing us pack in my dreams is a start but it doesn’t tell me much. Especially when weird things happened along with it. We were in a hurry for some reason. You usually have about a month, but for some reason, we had to pack overnight so we could get out the next day. I even asked Tom when the hell we were going to sleep, LOL.

Here’s where it gets even more interesting. An old lady at work asked Tom if we found a place yet. He said no, but he had an appointment to speak to someone in one of the parks we looked at in Citrus Heights. The lady asked him what park and he told her the Stonegate. Well, it turns out she lives there! She just rents, though, and doesn’t own. I told him to ask about the barking there. He said he’s pretty sure she doesn’t have a dog so she’d be a good one to ask. Most people with dogs are always going to say there’s not much barking. When you have your own dog barking it’s hard to notice others as much. The lady did say that the management people there are fairly new and seem nice enough. They’re good at fixing anything that needs fixing right away, too. That’s good to know cuz I’d hate to end up with another Stacey managing things.

Tom will be meeting with them at 5pm. I hope to hell they’ll accept us, but as Tom said, first we have to see if they’ve got what we want. If they don’t have what we want, it doesn’t matter what they say.

While the idea of owning again still excites me, I also like the idea of renting to see what it’s like first. Who knows what we’ll end up doing? I also like the idea of a real house that wasn’t built before the 90s, but that’s just a dream.

I’ve been half-starving myself lately with about 800 calories a day, plus my half-hour workout. Except for the first day, it’s been easier than I expected. Your stomach shrinks and you do get used to it somewhat, though those last few hours of my day are always the hardest. Just don’t know how long I can keep it up, used to it or not. I’ve got an awful lot of weight to lose but I am slowly pulling away from that dreaded 150-marker I was getting a little too close to.

I’ll have something like a 100-calorie snack bar 2-3 hours after getting up. Once I’ve been up for 6 hours, I’ll have a protein bar and work out. Then 4 hours later I’ll have a 400-calorie or so meal. The last thing I’ll eat will be something like yogurt a couple of hours before bed. This is the only way I’m going to know if something’s really wrong with me or not. If I stop losing weight doing this and it continues to hover where it’s at, then up goes a red flag cuz not even older women shouldn’t be able to lose weight on 1000 calories or less a day even without exercise.

I’m only checking my email once or twice a day now. I’m sick of checking it just to have to muddle through spam that keeps returning no matter how many times I mark it as spam and unsubscribe from the sites that took the liberty of signing me up for the shit in the first place.

As soon as I get ahold of some newspaper and try that nail design I want to try, it’s bye-bye long nails. They’re driving me crazy!

Later…

I was so pissed off earlier. How the hell can a 500-calorie meal put 2 pounds on me??? I even stopped the raspberry ketones cuz they weren’t doing much for me at all. I guess my body must be fighting to hang onto the weight for a reason and I’m just meant to be a big girl. I waited till I went back down 2 pounds and then had 300 calories in snacks. The hunger’s worse today. After the 500 calories, I felt as if I’d burst, but now I feel like I could eat 1000 calories and still be hungry!

Had a little bit of a scare earlier when I saw I had a blog visitor from where the sick black bitch lives. But they landed on an entry about shopping at Target which pretty much tells me they Googled something that landed them there. There’s really no other way into a single post unless they linked into it. But they couldn’t have linked into that entry because the link to it isn’t public anywhere. If it were connected to the sickos, I would think they’d land on the main blog and fly under radar.

Do they still watch me? That’s both a sad and scary thought. Even though I know I didn’t do a damn thing wrong, a part of me is surprised I haven’t been harassed online or heard anything else since that supposed pig emailed me. Once again, why would they just give up on me if it were a real pig? Jurisdiction issues? Because it wasn’t a real cop? Because the DA stopped them after insisting I did nothing wrong and what I did do wasn’t worth it? I still worry they’re gonna jump out at me somehow, real pig or not, but Tom doesn’t think there’ll be any trouble so long as I keep a low profile.

If that was a real cop, again, it’s both sad and scary that they’d put the time and effort into making their little “case” when there are so, so many more people out there that truly need to be thrown in jail. Like violent criminals for instance. But violence is taken so lightly in this country. I would be surprised if Paula ended up in jail, but not at all surprised if she only got 30 days if she did. The laws are so backward, but that’s why I’m not afraid to defend myself if I were ever attacked. Oh, the pigs would turn it around, alright, and charge me with assault. But unless my perp was black or Mexican, I’d get little more than slapped on the wrist for protecting myself.

Got a view from Mystic, CT. They landed on an entry Tammy “liked.” Sure hope it wasn’t any of her kids. I would guess not, though. Wouldn’t they be a little more curious to check out more than just that entry? Wouldn’t they want to know what I might be saying about them and other family members?

WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 5, 2012 No views from Molly’s place since Saturday, but still no messages from Aly either.

When I got up to find a voice message waiting for me I automatically assumed it was from Tammy. Instead, it was from Paula. If her new number is in service for more than 5 minutes then maybe I’ll catch her later on. It’s still only 7am in the east. She’s probably up, but I’ll still wait.

I’m excited about Thursday because Tom has an appointment to meet with someone in park #3. Still don’t know if we’re going to rent to own or just buy something, but hopefully we’ll find out soon enough.

Most of my dreams still continue to be weird or negative, but the overall theme has changed. I’ve gone from poverty to chase dreams. If intruders aren’t after me, it’s me trying to kill strange creatures. Last night it was a frog that grew in size, grew fur and fangs, and took forever to kill even though I’d hit it in the head with a hammer a million times.

I asked Nane if she thought I was joking about the dream premonitions I’ve had and she said no because so many times I have told her about dreams I’ve had involving her and a lot of it actually happened.

Later…

Chatted with my #1 online hottie. Well, she’s my only online hottie, actually. I still, to this day, find myself grinning ear to ear when she “likes” something of mine, leaves comments or sends messages. We talked about talking on the phone after the move (the internet phone cuts out cuz of our shitty connection here and the cells don’t always work well in the mountains). She says she doesn’t call overseas but doesn’t think it’s that expensive. Even if it was a buck an hour I’m sure I could afford a 10-minute chat, LOL. It’d be fun and it’d be nice to hear her speak in English and German. I’ve only heard her speak Turkish so far.

On what’s the cloudiest day in months, I haven’t heard from Tammy yet, but I did call Paula. Turns out I had this other number of hers all along. It was great catching up as hyper as she is. Yeah, she was her usual self, talking a mile a minute, rapidly changing subjects, and hard to get a word in edgewise, LOL.

Turns out she’d heard about all the wildfires in the area and was worried about me. When she didn’t receive a birthday card in May (I thought she might be in jail) and couldn’t get a hold of me she started to wonder if the fires got a little too close.

She’s otherwise not doing too well. She’s on probation and I guess she’s still going to trial for assault and battery with a dangerous weapon, which she might do 30 days for. She’s lucky she’s not in Arizona or Texas, though no state seems to take actions as seriously as words. I just don’t get it. They’ll put you away for a long time if you threaten someone, but if you actually harm them they won’t do much if anything at all, WTF??? Either way, she must have more than one case going since she’s already on probation. The trial is on October 2nd and she pled guilty (stupid thing to do). You would think she’d have learned by now not to succumb to the bullshit threats that come with pleading not guilty. She was probably given false promises for pleading guilty and she fell for it. Now the state gets to make more money off her and feel high on power play.

I don’t know why but she insisted on giving me her SS# and some kind of password in case she goes to jail. I guess so I can look it up online? I know she’s known me forever and all that but I urged her not to give it to anyone else. She can be too trusting and naïve. Nevertheless, as airheaded as my flaky friend of nearly 25 years can be, it was great chatting and laughing over the silliest of silly things.

Another bad thing is that she got a bad infection in her foot and I guess she filed suit against some doctor for malpractice. She was so sick for so long that she dropped from 205 pounds to 148 pounds, which isn’t bad for 5’ 5”.

TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 4, 2012 As I said on Facebook yesterday, if I can piss people off without even trying, I’d hate to think of what I could do if I actually did try. I was joking with Nane about something and it sort of backfired. She took it all wrong when I was only teasing her yet I still felt bad about it. Finally, I decided that if all I could do was piss people off I better get the hell offline altogether. I was beat by the time we returned yesterday anyway.

Where I dreamt about Molly’s mother like crazy the night before last, last night all I had were nightmares. In two of the dreams, someone broke into the house I was living in which looked nothing like any place I’ve ever really lived in before. I woke up running from one intruder and attacking the other.

We went to 4 different parks yesterday, 2 in the state capital and 2 in nearby towns. Saw some totally gorgeous houses we’ll never have along the way, too. Yeah, it kinda sucks to know we’ll probably never live in a real house again and that we’ll be spending the rest of our lives in trailers, but if they’re not as old, small and dumpy as this place, it won’t matter what it is so long as it’s livable.

I liked each park that I saw better than the last with one HUGE disappointment in the last park. The reason I liked the last two better than the first two was that they weren’t as cramped. The first one was super cramped and even Tom agrees I may not be able to sleep well there. Those trailers are literally packed in like sardines! Furthermore, the two that were for sale were in the worst locations within the park. One was right on the pool and clubhouse, another was backed up right against someone’s parking space. The truck there would literally park right against the bedroom wall. Usually, you at least get a few feet, but not with that place. That truck was just inches away.

The manager greeted us along the way and seemed very nice, and while the park itself was cute and the pool looked so inviting, this one would be our last choice. Even if I could be up during the daytime every day, I think it would get annoying as hell in those particular locations.

Another thing the parks have is RV parking. I definitely wouldn’t want to be near that section of the park either.

So we went through the parks, grabbing flyers and writing down numbers on signs that were on some of the trailers and manufactured homes. I loved the way they would decorate them and all the different plants and trees around the place. I saw plenty of wind chimes too, so no worries about having to give those up. I would prefer to be on and next to lots with gravel instead of grass cuz then I wouldn’t have to worry about mowers. As it is I really think there’s going to be a lot of yard and street activity like what we saw – people trimming trees and bushes, walking their dogs, gabbing in the streets. It’s better than a bunch of screaming kids or loud car stereos tearing through the place, but in some ways, it could be noisier there than here. The only difference is that the noise would be more spread out and hopefully not as loud and concentrated, so to speak.

There are other minor nuisances that could be an issue. Nothing we couldn’t deal with, though. Well, most people smoke, and when you have your windows open that could mean having to deal with smoke wafting into the place with people that close to us.

It was in the last park that I was immensely disappointed to hear 3 dogs, yes 3 dogs, going ballistic. One jumped in an open window and went off on me when I got out to grab a flyer. I didn’t think of that but it makes sense that in a climate where windows can be left open most of the year, dogs would be on the lookout waiting to bark at whoever passed by. And if you’ve got your own window open and there are 8 trailers packed in tightly around you, front, back and on the sides, the barking might not be much better than in the all-ages areas. We only saw one cat the whole time. Pretty much anybody that could have a dog would choose that over a cat.

“We only heard barking in one park,” Tom pointed out. Yeah, but I still think it’ll be an issue on and off throughout the day in virtually any park. They may not be big dogs and they may not be left outside overnight, but there’s nothing in the rules we’ve ever seen that says you can’t leave dogs outdoors unattended or that you have to control their barking. Well, half a dozen to a dozen or so 3-minute barking sprees throughout the day can get just as old as non-stop barking. It all adds up. One place even had a little fence around part of it and there’s no reason they would have a fence like that in a place like that if it weren’t to leave dogs out. I’d hate to have my days sprinkled with barking from 7am – 10pm, but I really don’t think there’s going to be any escape from it no matter where we go. At least it won’t be an overnight thing like it sometimes is here with two big dogs going off for 8 or more hours at a time.

We never saw two of the dogs we heard so I can’t say if they too, ran up to open windows or if they were tethered outside. IDK, maybe the message all along has been trying to tell me to get my own dog. Hey, if we have to listen to barking anyway, maybe it should be our own for once and I’d really like to have a pet that lived 12-15 years instead of 2 like with rats. Beagles are kind of cute and I’ve heard good things about them, so we’ll see. First we gotta get into one of these places and I don’t know if we even can get into the nicer parks.

Tom’s gonna make some calls today from work. We’re gonna go for a newer doublewide first. I don’t expect to be able to get it, but we’ll start from our top choices and work our way down to what will probably be not much bigger and newer than this, but if it has enough space, well, we couldn’t make it newer, but we could make it nicer. That alone will make it seem newer. But you know we were meant to live in old dumps. Fortunately, the parks don’t allow old junky trailers from the 60s like this one. I think in California they can’t be older than 1970. I just wish they’d separate the smokers from the non-smokers, though I REALLY wish they’d separate the dog owners from the non-dog owners even if that meant just 5 trailers out of every 100.

Tom assured me we weren’t stuck here, though, and that even though he didn’t think we’d have to, we could take that dumpy old trailer in the sardine park for 2K. Well, it’s nice to know we could do that if this place burned down or something, but not nice to know it was our only option. I sure hope it isn’t, though it would certainly save us a helluva lot of money. Not even God could make us poor again in a place like that!

Anyway, if the monthly expenses are just 1 or 2 hundred dollars cheaper than this and it has an extra bedroom and bath and it’s OURS, that alone is a major improvement, barking or not.

I can’t wait to try this new nail design just as soon as we grab a newspaper from somewhere where you transfer newspaper print to a light-colored polish. The problem is my nails are so small, LOL. I’ll have to use fine print as I could barely get more than one letter onto my pinky.

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 3, 2012 And the family drama goes on and on and on… Argh! Tammy messaged me from Lisa’s computer saying she still can’t get online. But this is supposedly cuz her computer’s broken. But doesn’t she have the money to get it fixed or to get a new one??? Maybe there’s more to it than I know.

Anyway, all she had to say was that Larry’s causing a lot of issues, Mom was taking his advice, and once again she’s the bad one. Ah, but we have nothing to worry about, she also says, saying that the lawyer will do the right thing. Really? You mean there are cops, judges, and lawyers that “do the right thing?”

If these so-called authority figures had our best interest in mind, then how come, as Tom pointed out, the police don’t care about those who have to live with excessive barking? Really, they don’t give a shit that people like me have to listen to Jesse’s mutts every time he takes off to either get laid by some street whore or play pool all night with his drunken buddies, but they sure as hell give a shit when someone has something to say that they don’t like or agree with. You bet they care then. Words will make people care, but actions won’t matter at all – WTF???

I asked Tom why they bother to make laws (against barking) if no one’s going to enforce them and he pointed out that the people that make the laws aren’t the same ones that are supposed to enforce them. Oh, so then maybe all we need to do is stick a barking dog outside every cop’s house for a good 10 hours or so and then maybe they’ll care enough to get these dog owners to be more responsible, right? Until then I guess they’ll continue to pick and choose what laws they want to enforce based on their own personal experiences and opinions.

As far as my mother goes, I’m fast running out of sympathy. Ok, so I’m sorry she’s depressed, demented and old, but I also wish she would just move onto the Pearly Gates so I can be done with the family drama after 46 years of having to deal with it! Well, make that 36 since I took a decade off. But I took that decade off for a reason and while most may disagree with me, just because my mother gave birth to me doesn’t make her God. It doesn’t make the things she did to me ok. I lost all respect for her years ago and I’m not about to apologize for my feelings nor will I sugarcoat them in any way. Abuse me and you’ll lose me no matter who you are, period. Motherhood does not excuse one from being abusive and I don’t care who may disagree with me or say I’m wrong for my feelings. I don’t care anymore who thinks what about me or who does or doesn’t believe whatever. I feel what I feel and I’m just sick of her and the whole damn family drama as a whole. I’m not obligated to stick around just because I may be related to her, but I will tolerate her existence in my life only because the evil witch supposedly doesn’t have much longer to go. Tammy said she’ll call next week with a health update; something I kind of hope isn’t very good at all. Really, I just wish she would drop dead so I can move on with or without a single penny. That woman spent half my childhood not only making me miserable but also shipping me off to this place or to that place so she could have a quieter, easier life. Well, let’s see God ship HER off for once so I too, can get a little more peace and not have to hear about or deal with the goddamn family drama.

Only problem is most people won’t let me go. Instead, they have to resort to childish, immature stalking and harassment rather than respect my wishes and focus their energies on those who actually want them around. I used to be the same way. It would hurt and piss me off when someone would dump me and I would do everything I could to make that person miserable until it caught up to me and karma bit me in the ass. These days, however, I accept that that’s just life and I let them go and move on. The only one that was hard to let go of and that dumped me over the last several years was Nane because Nane wasn’t just a friend.

So the point is that I’m afraid I’m stuck with Tammy whether I want her in my life or not. Do I? Well, I still don’t feel comfortable with someone in my life who could burn me as bad as she has and who has continued to lie about it because I always worry it will happen again. I don’t know what to do where she’s concerned. If I remain “friends” with her she’ll eventually pressure me to come see her or to let her come see me and neither Tom nor I want that. So what would I say at that point, that we can only be cyber friends? I don’t think that’ll sit well with her. Also, when the next poor spell hits she’d probably help us out so there’s that bridge to consider burning or not burning as well. Like I said, I don’t know what to do. If I do dump her, do I do it silently? Or do I explain and then walk away? And what do I do when she becomes another Kim and Molly? Pretend I don’t know her? That one’s actually kind of funny. The thought of saying I don’t have a sister named Tammy and that she must have the wrong person, but I say otherwise all over my journal. Still, it’s a bit of an amusing thought. sighs I just don’t know what to do. Going underground under a bogus name would be too much work and make me feel dishonest. She’s not worth the effort and neither is any other troll.

Well, I don’t know what I’m going to do just yet. My mother’s not dead yet. But I do know this much and that’s that there’s no law that says I have to associate with my sister or anyone else for that matter. Nor do I need to read and respond to any nasty emails, messages, comments and whatnot they may want to throw at me. So unless they physically come to my door and force me to deal with them, I don’t have to be “stuck” with anyone or succumb to their shit online and be their cyber victim.

Meanwhile, so long as God doesn’t throw yet another curveball at us, we’ll be out scouting parks this morning. Not because we haven’t already seen enough of them, but because we need to start writing down info on for-sale signs. Tom still thinks we’re not going to find a place in an ad but from a sign we see in person.

I was under the impression that all parks are the same and very black and white as far as whose credit is acceptable and whose isn’t. However, he says it would vary from park to park and that by the end of the week, we’ll know more. Yeah, right. I’ll believe it when I see it.

Later…

The nail on my ring finger got a crack in it down by the base so I brushed on some glue to see if that’ll hold it up a while longer. If not I’ll probably cut them all off.

For some reason, I had one dream after another about Molly’s mom last night. Nothing bad, just weird, LOL. Some were long and detailed. I’ll write about them later if I remember to.

I wonder where Alison’s been lately? She peeked in on my blog yesterday but never answered my email. Have I been dumped?

Still don’t know what to make of the random bouts of water retention that hit me out of the blue at odd times of the month. I also don’t like the fact that I not only can’t lose weight on 1500 calories a day plus exercise, but I can even gain weight on that. Finally, I said to myself, if you want to know if something’s wrong with you and if you should see a doctor, starve yourself! If you don’t lose weight then, then yes, something’s wrong.

But it sure is easier said than done. I got up at midnight and had a yogurt a couple of hours later before I went to work out. I can’t work out on an empty stomach. But around 5am the hunger pangs started biting really hard, so I had a protein bar about an hour later. It took a while for my stomach to get that there was now a little food in it, so the pangs backed off somewhat. How could I stand to be anorexic in my late teens???

I miss allowing anonymous comments on my blogs, but I know that if I do I’ll just get hit with spam, scammers, trolls and other shit like that. I don’t need people telling me no one cares about what I have to say (even though they cared enough to take the time to read my blog) or to be told to contact them so they can show me their picture, or phishers telling me to contact the FBI and other law enforcement agencies or else! It’s always the same old shit, though some comments were interesting.

SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 2, 2012 I stripped the plum crackle and white and glazed my nails in Boathouse, which my mom sent me a couple of years ago or so. I used to think that particular shade of red was dazzling but now it just seems so there. It’s almost all used up anyway.

Andy asked for a close-up of my face. Of this fat, old ugly face? Not sure he’d like to see that. Really, I’m not getting any thinner, younger or prettier! On the other hand, why hide forever, right? We all get old and most of us get fat with age, too. Nothing anyone thinks is going to change things anyway, so one of these days I’ll take some face shots. Just not right now.

Now I’m just wishing to hell I knew what was going on so we could get on with our lives. All I do know is that we can’t afford first best. That means settling for second best (if the parks will let us) or giving the Jes pest’s place a serious makeover so we can live here more comfortably until he retires in a decade or so. The thought of staying here another decade both saddens and frustrates me, but as I’ve said many times before, there are worse places to be. Staying here wouldn’t be the end of the world. Someday we will get out of here, though. We really won’t be here forever. But if we weren’t meant to be here we wouldn’t have been here for so long, and I have a feeling we’re not getting out anytime soon so we might as well just make the best of it. One way to do that is to focus on what I would’ve missed had we moved. I would’ve missed people not parking alongside us. I would’ve missed not having people be able to drive by the place, even if they were all park residents. I would’ve missed being surrounded by so much nature. To open the back windows and see nothing but trees is really nice.

Our credit is so bad that I’m almost positive that all we’d be able to rent from were individuals like Jesse. Well, why move from one individually owned dump to another since anything nicer would be well over a grand a month? It also may include a much peskier landlord and a lot more barking. Almost all the rural rentals are on shared lots. If you don’t live with the landlord you live with other renters. Still, I’m willing to try for the best of what we can afford in a 55+ place even though I’m 80% - 90% sure they’ll turn us down despite the fact that we can prove we pay more right here each month.

Andy’s mom has her place up for sale. She’s going to live in a senior place herself. Two prospective buyers failed to show up, he said. I still don’t get the failing to keep appointments or dates. What do people get out of it? Is it just funny to them or something? Well, we’re not going to do business with anyone who’s unreliable, bad credit or not.

I’ve been in places I didn’t want to be in for most of my life. It’s nothing new to me and I’m plenty used to it. Those are just the places I was meant to be in, even if it doesn’t seem fair and I don’t get why. As I pointed out to Tom yesterday, we lost two places of our own yet even when the situation seemed totally hopeless as it did last fall, we sure couldn’t lose someone else’s dumpy heap of shit, could we?

Later…

When Obama was first elected I had mixed emotions about it. I was glad to see a Democrat back in power, and sure it was nice to see the first black president. But I was also bothered by it because I don’t believe we’ll ever see our first woman or gay president and because I believe he was chosen mostly for his color. Sorry, but I’m just not ok with favoring any group in particular any more than I’m okay with shitting on a particular group. But that’s just the way the world is in 2012 – gays are shit on the most, whites are sort of in the middle, and non-whites are the favorites. They rule the courts, workplaces, and residential areas in most of the country now, and that’s not going to change anytime soon whether I like it or not.

But the reason I hope Obama’s reelected has nothing to do with his color. Unlike most people, I see beyond color and into what really matters. What matters is that I not only think he turned out to be the best president ever since he got the healthcare thing to pass as well as the abolishment of Don’t Ask Don’t Tell in the military, but he’s a Democrat. I hate Republicans because they don’t believe women and gays should ever have any rights. All politicians may be high on power and greed, but I know I sure as hell don’t want a president who works for the so-called straight male only.

Again I deactivated on Twitter cuz again I just couldn’t get into that site. There’s just no point in it for me, and they won’t stop forcing promoted tweets on people’s timelines, which to me is like spam.

SATURDAY, SEPTEMBER 1, 2012 Been getting views from Molly’s residence nearly every day. But who is it and what do they want? Why are they showing up as being in Brownsville? There’s no doubt, though, that even though the map puts them in the middle of nowhere and right next to a reservoir, it’s from Molly’s place. She’s appeared as being in Brownsville before and I got a visit from this location when Aly said Mrs. M blasted Regina about me mentioning Molly going into a group home.

I was under the impression Molly was going to live at this group home which is just south of Austin. That means it’s probably the mother peeking in on me, but if she’s a high school teacher, what would she be doing looking in at me in the middle of the day on a Friday? Hasn’t school started yet? She looked in again a few hours later. Am I that interesting or is she really that curious as to what I may say about Molly, something I’ve been making a point of not doing? She strikes me as the same hateful, vindictive bitch as the black one in Arizona, so she’s probably looking for ways to file her precious little suit against me. rolls eyes

For the most part, my mother made me suppress my emotions as a child, and when I did make the mistake of going to her about something that angered or depressed me, it was usually just that – a mistake. She often made me feel worse than I did to begin with and ashamed or wrong for my feelings. As soon as I became an adult, however, I wasted no time catching up on venting. So that’s a big part of why I don’t hesitate to whine and complain about things that upset me. I’m naturally a blunt, outspoken kind of person who’s not afraid to risk offending or annoying people with my thoughts, beliefs and opinions, but part of why I’m so outspoken is because I was forced to hold back for so long. I don’t mean to offend or upset anyone, mind you, but no one can please everyone. There’s no way to know who may take offense to whatever. I could piss someone off just by saying that the taste of oranges sucks. But I also believe in freedom of speech and that anyone who doesn’t like what I may have to say can simply not tune into my blog. We all have a right to be who we are so long as we’re not threatening or harming anyone. I don’t read anybody’s stuff I don’t like, so why should you? I just wanted to make this clear. Yes, I know I’m a whiner, but no one’s obligated to put up with it either.

But for those of you who don’t mind, tonight’s complaint is the weather. It’s 54° right now at nearly 3am. I had to shut both windows and vents. They should be able to remain open round the clock again soon cuz it shouldn’t be getting under 60° for a while. It’s just tonight that’s particularly chilly.

Doing laundry, grocery lists and things like that now. Gave the bathroom a half-assed cleaning.

Ended up chatting with Nane yesterday and exchanging wall posts. The usual things we do on Facebook that’s really nice. We’re both into nature pics.

Later…

Just sitting here waiting for Tom to return with the weekend goodies – turtle cheesecake, crackers, etc. while I finish up the laundry.

It’s freezing in here now. It got down to 68°. If it weren’t for the fact that the temp is now coming up I’d kick on the portable and just heat up this room. In just a few hours, though, it’ll be toasty warm.

I’m slowing down the use of propane now that I know we’re not going anywhere anytime soon. I should’ve figured as much.

Wish I could motivate myself to work on some stories.

Although it’s not as much anymore since she got her promotion, I still hear from Christine at times. Not much from Maliheh lately, though. I guess she’s in Hawaii now visiting her mom.

Molly or Mommy Dearest just checked me out.

Later…

And again she checked me out.

Ah, that cheesecake and those chips and crackers were good. :)

Tom bought me a little present that was on close-out. Plum-colored crackle polish over a bright white base. That Facebook nail photo album sure is growing!