#that GOT in the 2010s managed to do WORSE somehow

[melrosing]

When JKR wrote Harry Potter it was illegal to have a gay character in children book in the UK. How the hell do you blame her for that?

The last couple books (prominently detailing Dumbledore and his backstory) were written after Section 28 was repealed, and yet despite claiming he was gay in 2007, and despite many plays and films featuring Dumbledore in the years since, his sexuality was never cited within the story itself until /checks notesss… a couple lines in the 2022 Fantastic Beasts movie that international markets could easily edit out. Nice one

[gxlds-doodles]

was thinking abt how much i miss the 2014-2015 era fnaf fandom and it's interpretations of the characters (oh vincent purple guy how i miss you.) so new au alert!! lil chibis of my vincent n phone guy <3 designs are very much inspired by the popular designs for them around that time (originally popularized/created by rebornica i believe - though these are completely separate from their au i am not associated with them in any way shape or form) 🎉✧ SUPER COOL EPIC LORE INFO UNDER THE CUT!!!!!!! ✧🎉

general lore ☆ basically a whole rewrite - not because i have issues with the story (i stopped paying full attention after sister location tbh) just for fun!! again very much based on me missing 2010s fnaf fandom that was PEAK to me ☆ i still tie in some pieces of the lore but for the most part. forget what u know abt fnaf this is a whole rewrite (ex. animatronics are sentient but not possessed by children - not possessed at all in fact!! except for perhaps a few exceptions but i'm working on it) ☆ these two have quite a lot of canon lore tie-ins but beyond these two it's different LOL ☆ set in or around 2014, timeline is a wip vincent dorian (formerly afton) ☆ italian on his dad's side, armenian on his mom's side ☆ william afton's only child, born while freddy's was open but doesn't remember it rlly - his father and henry emily were co-owners/business partners but split ways (aka william got fired bc henry found out what he did. why he didn't bring this to the cops i'm still working out) soon after he was born ☆ raised by william as a single father ☆ was forced to help his father kill since he was like 12 this guy's got TRAUMA. ☆ still deciding on why he's purple (boy why you ourple.) but ik that it's william's fault. idk if i wanna go the walking corpse route like with michael in canon yet ☆ cuts off his dad when he's 18 - moves out on his own, etc. ☆ still kills for reasons i am currently working on however he does NOTTTT kill children ☆ starts working at freddy's at 27 as a way to 'rebel' against his dad, even if he hasn't seen him in yeeears by this point ☆ night guard at first, eventual day shift guard and sometimes a technician when needed ☆ his hair is naturally still black - he dyes it purple bc he thinks it looks cool ☆ his red scrunchie matches the red of phone guy's head <3 scott emily ☆ THE DRAWING IS OF A VERY SPECIFIC POINT IN THE AU I HAVE YET TO FLESH OUT it's not the most reflective of his character overall ☆ puerto rican ☆ henry emily's only child - remembers a tiny bit about william, remembers being scared shitless of him ☆ gets caught in a fire set by william when he's 16. he barely makes it out alive ☆ henry makes him the phone head mask thing. it can *technically* be removed but it never is bc it keeps the scars that never quite fully healed from getting worse ☆ head somehow works like a real phone... don't ask i just thought the idea of him ringing when he feels strong emotions is rlly funny (henry makes sentient animatronics in this au he can do anything. everyone say ty plot device dad!!) ☆ has some sort of contacts made by his dad that allow him to see through the phone ☆ grew up with the restaurant, his dad managed the location he's currently at until passing the business and the manager position onto him when he was 25 and henry was ready to retire ☆ henry told scott the full truth about william shortly before retiring - including that he set the fire that he got caught in. it's made him pretty paranoid that he's coming for him or something's gonna happen to him, even if neither of them have heard from william since then and he's essentially off the grid ☆ always at the restaurant during opening hours but rarely ever seen bc he doesn't want to scare any of the kids with his phone head vincent & scott ☆ yes they're dating. everyone cheer!! early fandom purplephone was my SHITTTT i love them so much ugh they r everything 2 me ☆ ngl they remind me of poolverine (deadpool x wolverine). vincent is deadpool (VERY accurate.) and scott is wolverine (less accurate but their dynamic stands) ☆ scott finds vincent annoying at first but eventually warms up to him and now he loooooves him. he's still annoying but he loooooooooves him ☆ scott doesn't know vince is william's son at first since he changed his surname and looks completely different ☆ they're just rlly cute and deeply in love and got some angsty shit going on later but that'll be a surprise oooo

[thinking-outside-the-giftbox18]

please tell me more about your au with benrey x gordon x barney

like I want to know how benrey and barney are specifically, i'm very curious

I am SO SO GLAD that you're asking about my lore/ship because I want to share more about my goobers and their universe!

Note: I do NOT know the entirety of Half-Life. I was making lore for my TSP (The Stanley Parable) universe which is a part of a multiverse. I watched HLVRAI by mistake when I mistook Benry for Barney and I just love HLVRAI and Benry that it’s hard not to put it in the lore.

About the Ship - GeeBees:

A proper love triangle where all three love, respect, and care for each other.

Gordon (he/him; FTM) is curious and everything about Benry fascinates him. Barney and Gordon are childhood friends and had become lovers after HL2 with Barney helping Gordon recover. Gordon would much prefer both his lovers safe and unhurt but understood that that'll happen once the Resistance finds a bigger base for shelter. Now, he stays at home taking care of himself and helping when needed, otherwise, he'd cuddle Benry and Barney when one or both are back home. He enjoys giving and receiving physical affection to his lovers and despises silence, so it's a blessing to have two lovers who make all the sounds they want around him. He was the reason why Benry sleeps between him and Barney after Benry warded off G-Man one night.

Benry is healing with Gordon and Barney for the better, he helps around with them and the Resistance base, and his affection is reciprocated and returned tenfold, it’s worse in a good way when Gordon and Barney proudly one-up Benry’s weirdness. He adores Gordon and is happy that he doesn't find him weird in a bad way and it does surprise him at first back at the simulation, but he grew to love his curious yet freaky nature of Gordon as he'd too learn new things about himself (like his true form(s), shapeshifting and purring). Barney and Benry just GET each other as they've experienced being left in the background and Barney could easily pick up Benry who is fine with being carried by hot people.

Barney had always been taking care of the two and making sure to not lose Gordon again, because of Benrey, Barney feels validated on his feelings and anxieties while also letting Benry help him around, though he does like to lightheartedly tease Benry. Barney and Gordon being childhood friends helped a lot on their relationship and meeting Benry somehow strengthened their bond as the duo became a trio. Benry and Gordon would pay Barney back for taking care of them by taking care of him too. Benry even helps by shapeshifting into Barney to take his place at Combine when Barney's unable to work. And when Barney's anxieties get to him, Benry can purr and sing some blue balls into his mouth to calm him.

More on the Giftverse AU and how GeeBees got along under "Keep Reading" cuz' this is too long ^^;

If you or anyone reading this has questions, reblog, comment/reply, DM, and even ASK me because I'd love to tell more! ^^

I have AUs for this ship, just to let you know ^^

What happened in this AU?

The interesting things that happened BEFORE that: 

Benrey and the Science Team (Tommy, Bubby, Dr. Coomer, Darnold, and Forzen) were put into a simulation that would later be HLVRAI.

Gordon and Barney are childhood friends who managed to stay in contact and meet again in Black Mesa.

After Black Mesa put Benrey and his Science Team in the simulation, they all were put into this sort of hibernation until a player arrived and dons the in-game HEV suit as “Gordon Freeman”. This happened 3 times, according to Benry, and the gameplay is different each time. Before being put in the simulation though, Benrey took and hid a master code of the simulation which lets him do whatever he wants with the map and story of the game. The first “player” (2010) was a guide who helped take the Science Team around the Black Mesa map, and Benry named them “Puter”. Sadly, Puter’s data and memory were erased to make way for the second player (2020) “Feetman” and started what we all know as “HLVRAI” and Benry changed the story and gameplay of the simulation because he thought it was boring.

The third player (2030), after the simulation erased the data and memory of the game model, is both Gordon and Barney who exchange because Gordon takes mandatory naps to recover from his PTSD and morphine rehab, and Benrey feels hope on leaving the simulation just to see them face-to-face.

After the events of ResCas and Gordon waking up from Stasis to Half-Life 2, Gordon gets together with Barney and maintains a platonic/sibling bond with Alyx, who then gets taken to Stasis by G-Man. Gordon HAS witnessed Eli dying, only to see him fine yet grieving Alyx’s disappearance (2020). That made Gordon DESPISE G-Man.

How GeeBees met?

Gordon and Barney reside together in the White Forest Resistance base. The apocalypse is nearing its end (2030), but Gordon and Barney are more happy about being a couple after so long. One day though, Gordon opened the door to G-Man who gave him an errand of the day: Play a game and retrieve something important, and as he appeared, he left suddenly. He also left a Playstation 2 console in a box by Gordon’s doorstep, and Barney helped Gordon set it up while unsure of what G-Man was planning. Along with the console was a VR set and a game CD with a blank cover and “Half-Life VR” written on the disc with black marker.

Gordon put on the game and the headset, he expected anything but a shitty yet semi-accurate environment that was the entrance of Black Mesa. Barney, who was behind Gordon and watching the TV screen, couldn’t believe it either. Gordon was starting to panic as he remembered all that happened during the day ResCas happened and Barney and Gordon were trying to figure out who was sick enough to make a game on the thing that started the apocalypse and what would they say to Eli and Issac. All their worries were halted after they heard a deadpan voice “hey. can i see your passport?”. And that’s when their lives changed for the better.

Long story short: Gordon and Barney take turns playing the game with Benry and the Science Team guiding them, Gordon’s worries about the game lessened when important events that had happened were changed into something more lighthearted. After playing the game (which Gordon and Barney didn’t want to do), Benrey managed to get him and the Science Team into Gordon and Barney’s shared phone before Gordon and Barney could figure out how to get them out of the digital space. 

After that, Benrey stays with Gordon and Barney while everyone else wants to live elsewhere around the base. It was tough for the Science Team to come to terms with the fact that they were no longer in a simulation and that the ResCas was an actual event (and also the fact that Benrey is meeting the ACTUAL infamous Gordon Freeman who he first heard from the researchers before he was put into the simulation) but in the end, they want to help the Resistance.

More does happen after, Issac adopts Bubby as his brother (Bubby being cloned from Issac), Tommy helps with retrieving Alyx and another OC of mine out of G-Man’s Stasis, and Benrey helps Barney by shapeshifting as him at Combine as well as getting to sleep between Gordon and Barney to keep G-Man away.

And this is practically fanon in my lore, but Giftverse! Gordon, Barney, and Benry get to meet their alternate AU versions of themselves.

Sorry this is too long, so here's Benry's "Gordon Freakman"

[qqueenofhades]

i know you've talked about this before but i just saw someone say obama had 59 senate seats and a 78 house seat majority and he "could've done anything" and i can't. when did peoples' collective memory get so shit? i was in middle school for most of his presidency and even i knew back then how hostile the republicans were to him. what is this revisionist history people are insistent on engaging in like i just don't get it. it's so easy to look back from where we are now and act like people back then didn't try hard enough and it's infuriating

"Obama could have done anything." Sure, when he came into office in the middle of a global economic meltdown and somewhat understandably, put that first, even when the Republicans had already declared their firm intention, in the middle of said financial emergency, not to work with him ever on anything and to make him a one-term president. And yet, still got the $787 billion stimulus through (which at the time was just an Absurd level of Government Spending Oh Noes!!!) and in fact managed to stop things from getting even worse.

"Obama could have done anything." Sure, for the first half of his first term where he had full control of Congress (4 months with 60 seats) and aside from said minor economic problem, was also trying to get the Affordable Care Act done. After 2010 he lost the House; after 2014 he lost the Senate. There are plenty of critiques to be made with the benefit of hindsight about how the Democrats did or did not push to change the procedural rules (something they still can't do now with a much smaller majority and Joe Fucking Manchin reliably on hand to torpedo it), or how they did or did not campaign on the ACA, or how they got punished for it, or how Obama's political inexperience and knowledge that the Republicans were going to crucify him but he still tried to work with them did or did not play into it. The point is, to act like he had those whopping majorities for his entire two terms (and that they automatically just did whatever he said, thanks to his magic mind-control powers) is nonsense.

"Obama could have done anything." As the first African-American president who faced ungodly levels of hate, racism, paranoia, personal attacks, personal attacks on his family, attempts to prove he "wasn't American," Tea Party conspiracies, and Christ knows what else, all while he had to not put a single foot wrong in any scandal, no matter how minor, for eight years. (Which he did!) If only Obama had KNOWN that he could have just done anything and this would totally happen and be fine and never be subject to legal challenges or anything! The Republicans haven't spent a decade since trying to destroy the ACA or anything like that, not ever. Why didn't he use his psychic powers to peer into the future and realize that Roe, universally regarded as settled law, was going to be overturned thanks to an orange maniac and a dark-money federalist judiciary effort! Why didn't he predict that American white fragility was going to backlash in the form of Trump and just never run for president at all? HIS FAULT! THANKS, OBAMA!

"Obama could have done anything." Because he was a wizard, because the Democratic Party and the country was exactly the same 15 years ago, because 2008 was completely identical to 2023 in its social priorities, political issues, cultural beliefs, and other material, and because we can happily act as if Trump never existed, his effect on the American social, political, and racial zeitgeist never existed, because everything is Obama/the Democrats' fault somehow for Not Doing Enough, and nothing to do with anything else, ever. Clearly nothing to do with these fuckwits and their chucklefuck revisionist purity ideology and deliberate refusal to learn or accept anything that contradicts that, i.e. basic reality and history. Nosirreebob.

[goddamnwebcomics]

Hoo boy, lots to unpack here.

Let’s start with the designs, because that’s the easiest one. As a furry myself, I can confirm that yes, they are in fact ugly. It’s something about the eyes and the MASSIVE teeth that turns me off, but I honestly wonder at points if they are meant to be ugly. Duran is depicted as overweight with a small penis, how is that meant to be appealing? Or hell, just look at Django, who can find a character like that attractive? The characters from Roommates had more sex appeal than this!

Now, the whole situation with Misty. It’s frustrating. I love the topic of escapism, “character revels in their new transformation” is one of my favorite tropes in fiction for that reason. I can even tolerate this page fine, the feeling of wanting to get lost in the fantasy without assessing the consequences first, regardless of how cringe the actual execution may be. I can even forgive this being out-of-character for them, the comic does give a sufficiently good explanation for it.

But no, it sucks. This is not a character arc, it’s just another excuse to shit on capitalism. It’s “housing market” again with a fresh coat of paint. Or is this meant to be an allegory for suicide? Throwing everything you care about away just to escape the pain? That’d make it really uncomfortable if Misty actually does end up turning into a werewolf.

But this takes me to the last thing I wanted to mention: you mentioned that this comic can’t juggle genres, but I’d take it further: this comic can’t tell a story. Now that we’re on the last chapter, what even is the general plot to this comic? Is it about a man learning to deal with being a werewolf? Is it about surviving in a cyberpunk dystopia? Is it about fighting Django? The comic just seems to drop all semblance of conflict just to introduce new ones, and it feels like it’s constantly moving the goalposts ahead. It gets tiring fast.

Hell, I’d argue if this was a full-on porn comic, it’d be better. It wouldn’t make me dislike B.B. for turning Duran into a werewolf because I wouldn’t be supposed to empathize with her. I wouldn’t mind Misty wanting to be a werewolf, since they wouldn’t get as much character development. It’d even excuse the lack of plot.

As-is, do I hate this more than Carry On? No, I think I’ll stand by what I said a week or so ago. The things this comic depicts may be worse (thank you for the censor bars), but at least this comic is fairly brief. At least this comic isn’t trying to make me laugh every single page with its shitty boomer-tier comedy. At least this comic has a plot, bad as it may be, instead of endless meandering (check back with me on this when we finally get to the Rackenroon arc).

Oh also, as a BlueSky user myself, I’m happy that the site got enough attention that even you are making jokes about it.

Yeah you hit the nail on the head with a lot of points buddy. Misty’s arc really isn’t as much of an arc as it is a vent.

As for your claims this comic can’t tell a story? I used to think the opposite but now I agree with that, yet while this comic doesn’t really have a general plot, I also don’t think it’s incompetent. It actually might be the opposite case from a lot of other comics I have riffed. Like Gene Catlow and Dominic Deegan both have a plot but they take agonizing amount of detours. Ask the Werewolves never takes detours but I didn’t really notice it because there is no general plot. It isn’t as bad as Console Girl though, not only it doesn’t have a general plot, it somehow STILL manages to take detours!

If this were a porn comic, yeah I can see why it could be better. I am kind of glad the porn comic aspect got dropped early on though, because last thing we need are Warmage-style “put the plot on hold to have a sex scene” moments.

Also, I didn’t even notice the problem of teeth before, even if they are extremely noticeable. Maybe it’s because it seems to be a post-2010′s thing to give some furry sonas massive teeth. I genuinely think the teeth might be the worst part about the design,

[bluemoonperegrine]

Those Who Wander

Rated T | Chapter 1/? | 1865 words | ao3 link

Authors: @bluemoonperegrine and @vicarious-rebel

Fandoms: Moon Knight, Werewolf By Night

Tags: Marc Spector/Jack Russell, Marc Spector & Steven Grant & Jake Lockley, mentions of Khonshu, mentions of Layla El-Faouly, San Diego/Tijuana area, alternate universe, fluff, romance, silliness

Summary: The Moon Knight system, now living in San Diego, decides to get back to nature after a mission investigating a human trafficking ring. Hiking in a national park in the mountains east of San Diego doesn't go as planned.

Notes: This is such an alternate universe. Seriously. It doesn't get much AU-ier than this! It's somewhere around 2010, the system and Jack are in their late 20s, and we've done a number on their backstories. Fun! We'll update tags as the story progresses.

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

Chapter 1: Well-Met

Out of all of the criminals Marc Spector had hunted down in his twenty-six years, he despised human traffickers the most. Although they weren’t the most depraved of those who’d received Khonshu’s justice by his or Jake’s hand, their calculating opportunism made his blood boil. These lowlifes were modern-day slavers. Following Khonshu’s orders regarding them wasn’t a problem.

One such lowlife by the name of La Araña was the reason why Marc had moved from London to San Diego last month. One of the reasons, really. Somehow Khonshu had learned about an explosion in human trafficking in the San Diego/Tijuana area and ordered him and Jake to cease Araña’s operations by any means necessary. The bird had ordered Steven as well, but the Brit has managed to talk his way out of it for the most part. Steven was smarter than the skeletal blowhard, much to his annoyance and Marc’s, Jake’s, and Steven’s amusement.

Rather than embark on a long-term mission, the system had decided to move back to the States. Although a few months had passed after their mother’s death and the Harrow/Ammit mess, they still felt off-kilter. Moreso than usual, anyway. A change of scenery would do them good, Steven and Jake thought. 

Marc didn’t care either way. Life was pretty lousy no matter where you lived, so whatever. Their best friend Layla traveled constantly for archaeological or Taweret-related reasons, so they’d see her often. She and Frenchie were their—particularly Marc’s—rock. Thank god for cell phones.

Despite being at the top of a rocky ridge, Marc’s flip phone had no signal. He withheld a sigh as he swept his gaze around the arid, rugged landscape. He needed to get moving before the morning sun climbed higher in the sky. Somehow he’d forgotten to pack a hat in the small rucksack that Khonshu’s suit could absorb. Steven had wanted to experiment more to see exactly how much mass the moon god’s magic could manage. It sounded like a long and tedious process, so Marc vetoed it entirely. If it could fit in his Army rucksack, it would work. Simple.

After taking a long swig of water from his half-empty canteen, Marc stowed it, shouldered his pack, and started down the narrow animal trail that led down the steep, east-facing hillside and into the canyon below. They’d need water from the stream that had carved the deep, narrow valley by the time they got there. Water purification tablets would make it safe to drink.

A pulse of anxiety washed over him. This time Marc sighed. “What, Steven?”

Kinda steep, innit?

“Kinda. Jake and I hiked worse in the Army.”

Sure did, jefe.

Marc grinned; he hadn’t realized that Jake was awake. “You keeping an eye on things, Jake?”

He felt his headmate’s mental nod. Yup.

We’re not lost, Steven said as if reassuring himself. Marc said he knows where we are. I don’t see how, flying at night after our mission when there’s no moon and there’s hardly anything out here! How do pilots—

“Steven,” Jake and Marc said simultaneously. Marc continued, “Even if we were lost, which we’re not, it’s fine. We’re trained for this. Packed accordingly, and—”

You forgot a hat.

Jake chuckled as Marc grumbled under his breath. “I wanted a relaxing hike, Steven. This right now is the opposite of relaxing.”

Está bien, hermanito. We’ve got the suit, remember?

Steven chuckled. Right. One of you nudge me when we’re not on a cliff or if something interesting happens.

Marc grinned. “You got it, buddy.” He felt Steven retreat just in time for the first switchback. The footing was a bit dicey unless you were a mule deer. He’d manage, and if he didn’t the suit would save their ass again. The suit didn’t dull pain, so Marc focused on the rocky trail and enjoyed the wilderness stretching out in all directions.

Three hours later the sun was directly overhead and felt searing due to the thinner atmosphere at this elevation. Marc was halfway through his canteen of safe but gross-tasting purified stream water. He’d stripped off his T-shirt an hour earlier to act as an improvised headwrap/scarf to protect his scalp and the back of his neck. It was working, but allowing his rucksack straps to chafe on his shoulders. Most worryingly, the canyon floor was now sloping uphill. He’d been walking southwest as planned. Barrett Junction should be a half mile ahead and downhill.

Steven did the mental equivalent of a stretch and a yawn. We there yet, bruv?

“Getting close,” Marc hedged.

Jake chuckled softly.

Wot? Steven asked.

We’re—

“Do not, Jake.”

We’re what?

Marc sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Taking the scenic route.”

Jake laughed and soon was joined by Steven. It’s all scenic, mate!

Hold up, Jake said, and Marc halted. Despite sharing the same body, somehow Jake picked up on things before he and Steven did. 

Marc looked and listened intently. Nothing was moving other than a few birds high overhead, but he heard something, just barely.

Jake stated, Vehicle. East.

Brilliant! Steven enthused as Marc darted behind a stand of pine-tree-like shrubs. What’re you doing? We can get a ride to civilization!

Gotta make sure he’s not a hostile.

Marc felt Steven virtually roll his eyes. You lot are paranoid. ‘E’s—or she, could be a woman, you know—prob’ly just out enjoying nature, but not lost like—

“WE’RE NOT LOST!”

The sound of the approaching engine quieted. “Hey!” a male voice called from the southeast. Maybe the canyon branched that way. “You need a hand? ¿Necesitas ayuda?” 

Yes! Steven replied as if the guy could hear him. 

Marc shushed his headmate so he could continue observing. Footsteps crunched on sand and gravel. Soon a slender man in a park ranger’s uniform stepped through an opening in the canyon wall and into view. His wide-brimmed hat shaded his face.

Feeling foolish, Marc shifted his weight to his other foot and debated waiting the ranger out. Maybe he should just summon the suit and fly off after all. He’d be a lot less sunburned that way.

The park ranger seemed to look right at Marc despite the evergreen shrubs hiding him. He started jogging toward him, calling “¿Estás herido? Are you hurt? I have a first aid kit in the jeep.” His English had a light Mexican accent.

Busted, Jake chortled as Steven snickered.

Wishing he’d never attempted a relaxing post-mission hike, Marc strode around the edge of the shrubby trees. “I’m okay, just…”

The ranger had halted about ten feet from him, close enough to make out his features despite the shade from his hat. He was drop-dead handsome, clean-shaven with tan skin and short dark hair. Seemed to be about Marc’s age and height.

Blimey, Steven murmured. Those eyes!

I thought you liked Layla, Jake said.

I do, Steven returned, but she doesn’t like any of us like that—

¡Gracias a Dios!

—and that’s fine, and I dunno, I’m still figuring things out so—

Shut. Up. Marc managed to say silently, if through gritted teeth. Mercifully, they listened.

The ranger—Russell per his name tag—tilted his head and frowned. “You’re sweating. That’s good.” He resumed walking toward him.

“Good?” Marc echoed, acutely aware that he was shirtless. Why did he care? He’d been in the army for crying out loud!

Russell smiled broadly. “You don’t have heat stroke. Do you have water?” Marc nodded. “Good.” He stretched one arm in the direction he’d come from and reached the other toward Marc’s shoulder but didn’t touch him. “Let me give you a ride back to wherever you’d parked. Was it the main lot, or one of the others?”

Marc found himself walking with the young man. “I, uh, was dropped off.”

Jake snorted.

Russell looked at him askance, then shrugged. “We’ll go to the station. It’s air-conditioned. You can rest, then go from there.” Marc nodded agreement.

They walked uphill along a short, narrow gap in the canyon wall heading east. Marc spotted the ranger’s dusty jeep parked near its mouth.

“Got a name?” Russell asked.

“Marc,” he replied.

Russell grinned. “Nice to meet you, Marc.” He put one hand on his stomach. “Jack.”

Steven chuckled, which made Marc frown. What? he asked.

“Yes, like the dog,” Jack said with a brilliant smile. “It wasn’t intentional.” He stopped walking, so Marc followed suit, abruptly realizing they’d reached the jeep. His situational awareness had gone to shit for some reason. 

Jack’s brow furrowed again. He motioned at the passenger side of the jeep. “Go ahead, get in. It’s a half hour drive on rough roads to the station, so be sure to drink some water. I’ve got jerky and trail mix if you need something to eat.”

Marc nodded again and did so, putting on his shirt after setting his rucksack in the back seat. Jack steered the jeep further east, then turned north on a rutted jeep trail. They were headed in the opposite direction he’d intended to go, not that it mattered. He caught Jack’s eye and waved southwest. “How much further was Barrett Junction?”

Jack’s eyebrows shot up as smile crept across his face. “That’s where you were headed?”

“Yeah.” Marc felt his headmates’ amusement loud and clear.

“I’m glad I found you,” Jack said, now serious. “Eight miles as the crow flies, but with this terrain? No offense, but I don’t think you’re prepared for it. And there’s no backcountry permits issued for this area right now. You shouldn’t be here.”

“Oh.” Marc faced forward, stared out the windshield, and tried to ignore Steven’s and Jake’s laughter. “I’ll be sure to get a permit in the future.”

Jack nodded, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. “They’re for safety more than anything. It’s not good to do this stuff alone. I love it out here, but have to admit it can be dangerous. There are predators.”

“Yeah,” Marc agreed, his thoughts returning to La Araña. With the border only a few miles to the south, the trafficker may have routes nearby. For a moment Marc considered asking Jack if he’d heard of Araña, but decided otherwise. If anything he might seem suspicious, being in a remote area of the park near the border without a permit. So he drank more of the bitter-tasting water from his canteen, and waited to return to civilization.

Look at ‘im, bruv.

Marc didn’t on general principle and to not be weird; Jack was navigating a tooth-rattlingly rough section of road. Why?

‘Cos I want to see him. He’s cute!

Dios, Jake moaned. It’s Layla all over again.

Would that be so bad? Steven countered. She’s brilliant! A good mate.

Marc sighed. Enough. It’s not like we’ll be out this way again. 

Unless we want to go on another relaxing hike, Steven said. I’d say this is the perfect place to go!

Jake drawled, Try not to get lost, jefe.

Marc tried to lean the back of his head against the headrest, but the lurching jeep made that impossible. I hate you guys.

You don’t, Steven returned, affection clear in his words.

Marc returned it, smiling. I don’t.

[jodilin65]

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 30, 2010 I have now reached the beginning of the end with Digital Confessions! Now I’m basically at the climax of the plot, then ready to tie up the loose ends that will hopefully finish off a decent enough story.

Meanwhile, it seems like we’re back to square one; waiting for nothing. There was not one single call today, but we’re still working on our online experiment. Still don’t know if it can save us in the end, though, if worse comes to worst. I really wish we could stop struggling and start living! But this has been going on pretty steadily since 2007, so why would it stop now?

Late last night my stomach really started flipping out on me. I realized at that point it had been too long to blame it on the Chinese food I had. I prayed for it to stop. Amazingly, it did. Ah, but I had popped a couple of Tums a little earlier, so given the fact that all my other prayers have gone unanswered, I’d say it was either the Tums or a coincidence. If whatever’s up there didn’t care about those who died in the earthquake in Haiti, or the victims of Hurricane Katrina, or the tsunami of 2005, why would it care about my husband and I? Aren’t we just two people out of billions? Well, right or wrong, I can’t help but see it that way. As much as I love summer, I wish I could snap my fingers and jump to the end of the year. Why? Because by then we’ll either be laughing at these days or we’ll be dead. Why must almost all our problems be so long-term? If we manage to solve this one, I know we’ll just go right into a whole new problem that’ll go on and on for months or even years.

Unfortunately, I’m starting to question Andy’s intentions. He had been being a good friend, sending words of encouragement and not judging or condemning my own words, some of which I figured he might not agree with. I appreciated his letting me have my own way of thinking and believing. But then he started defending the old neighbors in regards to the time I hurled a glass bottle over the wall and into their driveway after getting so fed up and frustrated with their shit, and yes, I was truly guilty of that one. But not the part where he says I said I was going to send them a picture of a burning cross. If I said that – and I don’t recall doing so – it was a bad joke. This simply isn’t the kind of thing I’d get off on doing. For me, the problem was their behavior, NOT their color. Only THEY had a problem with color/religion.

Sometimes I wonder what people expect from me. I mean, what do they want me to do? Take the blame for every single thing that’s ever happened to me whether I deserved it or not? For a while, I was that way. I got it in mind somehow that if I took the blame not only for my own mistakes but for others as well, I would somehow be a better person for it and would win more approval from others. And so that’s how I was for the longest time. If you fucked up or fucked me over, you didn’t have to worry! Jodi would be quick to rescue you from having to take responsibility for your own actions. But not anymore. Not after realizing what a liar this made me look like and how untrue I was being to myself. I can’t make people believe me when I say I didn’t do a particular thing, and I can’t stop others from defending those who have victimized me and gone a hell of a lot further than I have, but that’s ok. I know what happened. I know what I’m guilty of, and I know what I’m innocent of. And I know that if some guy, for example, steals my handbag when I’m out and about, I’m not going to say it was my fault. And if someone rips off your own handbag or wallet, that’s not my fault either! I’d rather the whole world look down on me for not taking blame that isn’t mine, than for everyone to just adore me for accepting blame that isn’t mine.

What’s he gonna do next? Accuse me of some stranger’s murder in Ohio? Tell me I deserved every slap I got from my mother as a tiny baby?

As I told him, if he’s so bothered by what bothered me a decade ago, maybe we need to take another break. And maybe he doesn’t want to resume any friendship, but just “punish” me instead by defending my past tormentors. Like I really need this shit right now in life when I’m struggling just to survive, never knowing if we’re going to make it or even be alive a month from now?! Really, why the hell is it so important to him to defend the old neighbors? And after all this time. I was the one who lived with them yet he’s so sure their noise was within normal everyday limits and that it was only during the daytime. If what happened with our old neighbors a decade ago bothers him so much then he can just fuck off, and I told him this, too. If not, then I guess I’ll just have to put him on ignore. I just don’t understand why he’d be so upset at what I thought, felt, believed, said or did to my own damn neighbors from way back when. I can see him harboring a grudge over something I said or did to him, but my neighbors?! My NEIGHBORS?!?! Maybe that’s the whole point in this; to get back at me, then get off on reading about it in my journal. He’s the one who said my entries were longer and more interesting since he started harassing me, so maybe that’s what this is all about, IDK. And maybe he’s full of shit when he says he’s been as successful as he has been. I hope not, though. I’d really love for him to be as happy and as well off financially as he said he is.

I live in the woods because I just want to live in peace and not fight with people. So if you feel you have to judge me and try to change me into what you think I should be, you’re wasting your time. I’m just going to ignore anyone who tries and send you straight to my spam box. Anyone who knows me knows I’m hard to gain as a friend but easy to lose. And I’m sick of being told how we should do things and that Tom’s wrong for not applying for jobs in person. Why should he waste time and gas just to be told to apply online?

He admitted that the prank calls were from him, but they weren’t meant to be pranks to harass me as Tom must’ve thought was the case. I guess he was playing parts of the tape I sent him where I’m pretending to be all furious with him and Tom took it as pranks. But Tom said we got “slammed” with calls and it cost him a lot of minutes to delete all the messages. Just how many times did he call and play this tape?

He pointed out that someone threatened me with coming over with a knife on Formspring, saying he never said that, and I believe him on that one. As I told him, he’s weird, mean and funny at times, but I’ve never known him to make threats. The knife could’ve been tied in with Maliheh or someone else entirely, but no one’s come to knife me, so I’m not worried about it.

Speaking of Formspring, I might shut it down since Andy and I are now keeping in touch by email, and no one seems to have anything to say or ask me lately.

What I don’t believe is the 6-page letter he wrote screaming at me that he said he sent right after we moved to a PO Box we once had in Tempe, AZ. Oh, I believe he sent the letter. But I don’t believe Tom would read it, decide it’s too nasty for me to know about, then ditch it. Tom wouldn’t have even opened it. He always brings me anything addressed to me unopened. Andy must have addressed the envelope wrong or it got misdelivered.

Since we’re on a mission to rehash the past, I had a dream last night that reminded me of something he did when we were in our 20s and living back east. Today I wouldn’t give a shit, but back then at that age, I was kind of hurt by something he said, but first, maybe I won’t shut down Formspring just yet after all. I just got a question alert and found someone warning me to stay away from Andy, saying he just wants to “get me,” etc. It’s not showing up yet, though. Formspring is always slow. Hmm… someone he knows? Well, they can’t know me very well. They spelled my name wrong.

I don’t know what to think at this point. sighs I don’t want to dump the guy again, but who the hell is he to judge me? Guess what I end up doing depends on him. I’ve already told him how I feel, so if he really wants me as a friend, he’ll just worry about his own self and quit telling me how I should’ve lived my life in 1999 and how Tom should live his now. Or maybe I’ll just never hear from him again.

About the dream. It was of Sharon W of all people, Norma’s daughter. In the dream, we were supposed to meet somewhere for some reason, but I don’t know where or why. I was on the phone with my mother before going to meet Sharon. She told me to respect her fame, and I was like what fame? She was a small-time singer, but she never got famous for anything.

I suspected that Sharon would be rather cold towards me because she believed I made prank calls to her mother many years ago, and because of all the years of being labeled as crazy, and she was. Had I still been young it would’ve bothered me, but being in my 40s, I found it rather amusing. “You think I’m just the craziest bitch you ever did meet, don’t you?” I taunted her with a grin. She just gave me a dirty look and ignored the question.

In real life when I was in my early to mid-20s, Andy told me that Norma told his mother she had received prank phone calls. I don’t know when she was supposed to have gotten them, but I guess Norma said that Sharon automatically suggested that I had made the calls. Today I would just laugh something like this off, but I was young back then and I took a lot of things personally. Today I care only about the feelings of those I care about. But if I don’t know you very well, I’m not going to sweat the fact that you may think I made calls I didn’t really make. Yet I called to defend myself back then. She apologized and all that, saying she should’ve gone to me first. I told her not to worry about it and that it was done and over with as far as I was concerned. But then Andy went and insisted to her that I really had made the calls. This really pissed me off too, that my supposed best friend wouldn’t take my word for it when I said that of all the people I had pranked in my life, Norma was not one of them. I never had a problem with Norma and so I never saw any reason to bother her. But the fact that Andy wouldn’t believe me and couldn’t see that I had absolutely nothing to gain by lying to him, a person who did the same thing back then, really upset me. He did later admit that he should take me for face value and quit being so quick to call me a liar, but it was too late by then when Norma was concerned. Norma will go to her grave fully believing that I pranked her and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Now onto more important things than someone who feels they have nothing better to do than stick up for my old Jew-hating neighbors who lived for tormenting me to no end. Marie texted me from the hospital last night. Her chest cold got really bad and caused her to get an ear infection and she felt really out of balance. Hopefully, she’ll rest up and let herself get better before she goes back to playing Wonder Woman. Really, that girl does too much, LOL!

Later…

pulls hair I’m losing a ton of work and story-writing time today with all the darn emails and phone calls I’ve been getting, LOL! The call turned out to be quite a pleasant surprise, though.

I started to get in some writing when the phone rang and I saw it was my parents calling. My first thought was that they’d heard all the shit that was going on in the news and were worried about us.

They were calling from the cell to use up minutes, so we talked one at a time. First mom talked with us and asked us about what stores and restaurants are in our area. I’m guessing they may want to send gift cards, but anyway, we told them we’ve got most of the major chains around us as well as what stores aren’t in her area and all that. Then she said she’d put Dad on to ask us other questions.

So Dad gets on and says, “You’ve sold things on eBay, right?”

Oh, yeah. We’re the eBay experts. :)

Haven’t sold anything recently, but I got rid of a good chunk of my doll collection that way and a bunch of other shit we didn’t want or need. And of course we once had an eBay store in Arizona.

My parents have a small store at a flea market that keeps them active and generates extra money for them. They haven’t been online for years because they didn’t use it enough and just couldn’t get used to the idea of virtual stores. They have a storage locker they’ve been cleaning out containing all kinds of stuff they didn’t get around to selling or that they just have no use for. Tom said it’s kind of sad that they’re doing this. In other words, preparing for the end, knowing they don’t have much time left. Yeah, it is sad. Some people have said that I shouldn’t pity them after past problems we’ve had, but it’s not that easy. I just hope we too, aren’t looking at a limited amount of time left, but if we are, we are.

For now, though, they’re sending 198 pre-2000 Beanie Babies to sell on eBay. At first I thought he was asking if we’d sell them for them and send them the profits, but he wants us to keep whatever we can get for them. This was really nice of them! So we’re researching things now and once we get them and see the items we’ll decide where and how to go about selling them. Opening a temporary eBay store might be our best bet right now, but eBay isn’t the only place to sell things. There’s also Amazon. We’ll just have to compare fees and things like that. We’re thinking we can maybe get $300 - $400 for them, but it won’t happen overnight. Meaning, it’s not going to be something we can sell off in a day. We’ll probably sell them in small lots too, as opposed to one at a time. We’ll also probably list back to back instead of simultaneously so people won’t ask for combined shipping.

Other than that, they’re doing well and have been in the 90s for over two months. They had the coldest winter they ever experienced, and now they’re having a super hot summer.

I was shocked to hear their electric bill was just $99 after having to run their AC all the time, plus they’ve got a hot tub outside. I’ve never been big on hot tubs. I could take them or leave them, but the heat we’ve been having sure makes me wish we had a pool! We could get a fairly good-sized inflatable for a couple hundred, but it’s not something we want to spend money on right now. Especially since we couldn’t use it year-round.

Andy got upset with me for telling him to fuck off if he has a problem with me and for not letting him get things off his chest. But that’s not what I have a problem with. What I have a problem with is when he gets on me for shit that doesn’t even pertain to him and he judges the way I’ve handled things. I don’t understand why the way I interacted with people years ago has anything to do with us and the present day and age. He says he’s on my side, but I don’t always feel that way. I feel like he’s judging me and trying to get me to shoulder the blame for things I’m simply not responsible for. I don’t think he gets that sometimes people really are victimized that didn’t ask for it or provoke anyone in any way into giving them the shit they give them.

He seems to think I’m all about revenge and not accepting blame where I should accept it, but that’s simply not true. When I was younger, like most younger people, I did tend to be more vindictive and selfish and less willing to own up to my mistakes. No one can “ground” or “punish” me for admitting to a mistake, so what have I got to fear in coming clean? I swear I don’t want to get even with every single person who wrongs me, and I don’t have a problem with admitting when I’ve made mistakes. If anything I’ve deserved just about everything I’ve ever gotten in life, and I’ve said this before. I don’t know what else he wants from me.

If someone went to attack me I’m going to try to fight back, but again, I don’t feel the need to get even with everyone that irritates me because I understand we’re all only human. I’d rather just not have anything to do with someone I may not like. Twenty years ago I had plenty of time to get even with someone that fucked with me. Today I’m just too busy and it’s just a whole lot easier to avoid people I don’t like.

It just really bothers me to be criticized and judged for the way I have lived or live my life today. Had he offered his opinion or a suggestion once, that’d be one thing. But it’s another to come off like you’re trying to get a person to be a certain way over and over again. What’s wrong for him may be right for someone else. That’d be like me condemning him for the way he went about quitting smoking or condemning the way he handled a fight with a coworker, for example. That’s between him and the coworker. Not me. Even if I don’t think he handled the person well, who the hell am I to judge him and tell him how to live his own life? It’s none of my business.

What I meant by the fuck off part was that he’s not obligated to stay in my life if he’s that unhappy with me. If he thinks I’m this cold-hearted, vengeful bitch that refuses to take the blame for anything, he shouldn’t bother with me. I won’t hold it against him if he wants to walk away. We can’t pick our family but we can pick our friends and he has a right to choose whoever he wants for friends same as he has a right to choose what clothes he buys.

I don’t want to dump him again, but I also don’t want him playing mommy to me either, scolding and judging my every move, be it something that pertains to him or not, or that happened in the past or right now. Maybe we should find a gray area between the black and white. Meaning, back off on the emails. I hate getting multiple emails every day from the same people anyway. Maybe it would be more special and we’d get along better if we backed off to once or twice a month. Of course, I also don’t have to read/respond to emails if I’m busy with other things at the time or just not in the mood.

Like I said, I just wish he’d be mad at the shit that involves us. He has every right to be upset with me for dumping him. That was wrong and it was 100% my fault. All of it. Totally, absolutely, completely my fault. I know some people would say I too, should have the right to pick and choose my friends, but he didn’t do anything wrong. Just get annoying at times. But so did I. And so that’s why it was wrong of me to dump him like I did.

Someone who’s apparently following my journal has been leaving messages on Formspring. I thought it was Andy playing around again at first, but I doubt he’d spell so poorly, misspell my name, and basically bash himself. Another mystery to ponder. Can’t tell if it’s someone who knows either of us or what their game is just yet. Maybe it’s a stranger simply stating their opinion, or maybe it’s someone one of us knows with a purpose in mind and woweeeeee!!! Andy just sent me some pictures of himself! Even with the extra weight that most mammals put on with age, he looks fanfuckingtastic!!! And still younger than his age too, and less gay looking, for whatever that may be worth to the guy, LOL. It’s so nice to have these. I have no other pictures of him cuz we had to leave so much stuff behind in Arizona.

So I guess that other than economic stress and Andy getting under my skin at least a little bit at times, the day wasn’t all bad. I just lost some work and story-writing time is all, and did I run my 1-3 miles today? No, of course not!

No NC hit today on Opera. Hmm… maybe it wasn’t Maliheh, after all. Or maybe she was just too busy to check my latest entry.

TUESDAY, JUNE 29, 2010 Tom was right. The temp agency did call. I’m just trying really hard not to get my hopes up. The woman told him they’d reactivate his file since he hasn’t worked for them for so long, and that if someone named Stacey doesn’t hire him for the Q & A job he applied for, he should keep calling every week to see if they’ve got anything else for him. Although I’m trying not to think too positively so I don’t end up all the more disappointed if things don’t work out, he’s totally qualified for one of the jobs he put in for. All the other jobs he’s put in for so far he was either somewhat qualified for or not at all qualified for. But this type of Q&A job is exactly what he was doing in Oregon minus the management part of it. I used to tease him by calling him a queer-ass manager till I knew that stood for quality assurance. Hey, my sister’s convinced my husband’s queer, so let’s hope he gets this queer-ass job!

Meanwhile, Operation Strike Out On Our Own has been a success so far. We’re trying to make $45 a day online. If we can, then it won’t matter if there’s no other source of income because $45 a day is all we need to survive. Technically we could probably make it with a little less. We would still prefer for him to get a regular job, but we wouldn’t have to kill ourselves to avoid starving in the streets if this works, and I wouldn’t worry nearly as much as I have been. Can’t say what it is we’re doing, though, cuz if it works many others would want to quit their jobs and do this too, unless they were either making good money or were one of the few lucky ones with health coverage they didn’t want to give up. The more people that do this, the fewer jobs for us, so I’m very selective as to who I discuss it with.

Think positive and you’ll be all the more disappointed if things don’t work out. Think negative and you’ll be all the more delighted if things do work out. I really believe this. So this is why I’m trying not to get overly optimistic. It’s hard, for obvious reasons, not to hope he gets something – anything – even if it were just a part-time minimum-wage job. With our online job, that’s all we need, and at this point in life, sure, having a lot of extra money would be nice, but it’s not crucial to me anymore. Just knowing we can pay the rent and buy groceries is enough for me. Anything after that is just a bonus. The only bad thing about this working out is that we wouldn’t have much of a life. We would literally have to work just about every waking moment, but just to know we could pull it off if we wanted to would be wonderful. Especially since I don’t expect any more money from the government.

Got another Hope Mills, NC hit on my Opera blog. If it’s Maliheh, why has she returned? Just out of curiosity? To see if I’d mention it? Although I’m not sure she knows I can see who visits me there. Some other reason? IDK, maybe it’s not even her, though it seems unlikely that it isn’t. What are the odds of her “reacting” on Facebook to certain things I’ve said in my journal, then getting an NC hit after providing a link in which I claim to have a picture of her? I did, however, “decide” later on that the picture wasn’t of her. Either way, I’d guess it’s safe to say she’s following me out of sheer curiosity, LOL, cuz she certainly doesn’t want to be friends. She never accepted my friend invite.

Fell asleep last night shortly before midnight and woke up at 4:30 thinking I was going to puke for the first time since 1997, but fortunately, I didn’t. We’re thinking something must’ve been bad in the Chinese food I got yesterday at the grocery store.

I woke up nauseous as hell and my mouth was watery as hell, too. Knowing that cold air helps, I stuck my face in an open window. Only problem is that while it’s almost always cold at 4:30 in the morning here, it’s been warm all around for the last 4 days or so. But luckily it subsided almost as fast as it came on and I was able to get back to sleep without incident. Today my tummy still feels a little shaky, but it’s the least of my concerns. Puking may be the worst feeling in the world, but I’d gladly up and puke right now if it could mean a job for Tom.

I’ve got to get back to running today. I took the last two days off and my hip has been noticeably worse ever since. Lately, I’ve had this pain in my right hip that shoots down to my knee. Hope it’s not the beginning of arthritis!

Marie returned from her trip to New Hampshire after having a stomach virus turn into a nasty chest cold, the poor thing. I’ll be looking forward to hearing about the trip once she’s better.

Andy gave me an email address to contact him at. I did and he replied by saying that he hopes I have a better day today. Well, I’m better than I have been, though nothing’s actually changed yet and we still could be doomed in the end.

He said he started reading a book I wrote for him in 2007, which I can’t quite remember. As I told him, my memory ain’t what it used to be. I remember writing something rather extensive, but I’ve been writing extensive things most of my life. I’m a writer. It’s what I do. I’m surprised he hasn’t thrown everything I ever gave him away for not giving him our number and address when we moved.

I will start chapter 20 today of Digital Confessions, then maybe – just maybe – I will live long enough to get to Evil Amongst the Evergreens.

Dorian seems to prefer being referred to as Blue, as Paul seems to prefer Mitch, so they will be Blue and Mitch from now on. Blue read my entry yesterday where I said that no one cared to wish my husband a happy birthday and how much that upset me, then he replied by wishing him a happy birthday. That was so sweet of him!

MONDAY, JUNE 28, 2010 Today’s Tom’s 53rd birthday and what I’m fearing more and more is going to be his last. He keeps telling me everything will be alright, but will it? How can he possibly know that? The government stopped sending our checks and he has no job, so how is everything to be alright?

I know this is the beginning of the end, and like I said, I’m ok with it because I know life never could have been what we wanted it to be anyway. Had I thought we had a real shot at a modest home that was at least mostly peaceful, then I’d be pissed. Don’t get me wrong. I’m still pissed. I’m plenty pissed at God, society and life in general for giving so much to some people simply for breathing while we’ve worked our asses off for nothing.

But once we’re gone God can never hurt us again, or allow anything else to do so either. There are no guarantees that the afterlife if there is one, won’t be a lot worse, but there will be no more pain and suffering for us here. Right now we’re healthy. We have a roof over our heads and food in our stomachs. We aren’t the homeless guy pushing a shopping cart down the street, but if we don’t off ourselves when the money runs out, that’s exactly what we will be, and that’s not something I’m tough enough to handle. Not for even a few days, let alone 730 days which is when the pension would have kicked in.

All I can do for now is just enjoy what time is left. It’s not easy, though. I’m having a hell of a time motivating myself. All I want to do is just lie around or listen to music.

I did, however, make a lot of progress on my book yesterday. That much I’m determined to finish before I go, though I don’t see the point in continuing with my language studies. It kind of sucks that I won’t live long enough to learn more and lose more weight, so I’m just focusing on what I’m not going to miss at all. I’ll never again shiver through another winter or have to listen to 10 hours of barking each day as the weather cools down. I don’t know why, but like I’ve said before, the colder the weather, the more the dogs go crazy when Jesse’s not home. Soon there’ll be no more stress and constant worries about how we’re going to make ends meet. I’m tired of being beaten over the head with money! I never wanted to get old and to have to deal with arthritis, cancer and other nightmares that come with old age, knowing we’d have absolutely no one to help take care of us once we got too old to do so ourselves. So there’s just as much to not miss as there is to miss, and unless a miracle breaks between now and about a month from now, there’s not much anyone can really do to save us. Well, there is. It’s just that those who could do something don’t give a damn. It’s more important for the church to raise millions of dollars to control who marries who than it is to help people like my husband and I. And it’s more important for the government to send our money to other countries than to help those in need right here. You know that.

Anyway, to try to take my mind off what seems to be an impending death by carbon monoxide poisoning, I’m trying to distract myself from reality through music, writing and sleeping as much as I can. Been taking Benadryl every day. It knocks me out a little earlier and makes me sleep longer. Man, I WISH I could sleep till the end! I can totally see why so many people killed themselves during the Great Depression. People are quick to call them cop-outs, but they obviously just didn’t understand the hell they were going through. No, things don’t always work out, and yeah, sometimes we really are dealt more than we can handle.

IDK, maybe this is a good thing. Maybe fate’s leading us to the end because there’s going to be either nothing at all or a fanfuckingtastic afterlife waiting for us. Just don’t feel sad, mad or sorry for us. Every curse has its blessing. Every blessing has its curse.

My story is about 52K long now, but I don’t think I’m going to be able to stretch it to full length. Why is it that I can ramble on and on in journal entries, but never think of enough things to keep a story going for long? I could throw in trivial things to keep it going, but that’d be boring. It seems I just don’t need 100K - 200K words to tell whatever story I’m telling. I guess I was just meant to be a short story writer.

Later…

Just finished chapter 19 as Tom’s birthday slowly winds down to an end. He doesn’t appear bothered, but it’s sad to see no one give a damn about him. Not his mother, not his sister, not anyone. I’m glad he at least has me, but still, not one person cared to send a card, an email, or give him a call. Not one. One of the finest human beings I ever met and no one cares.

The weather’s been hot and dry and just over 100º.

Emotionally, I’m still a bit of a rollercoaster. One minute I’m pissed, the next sad, then nervous, then I go numb. Sometimes I just want to die, but sometimes I want to live and beat life at its own fucked up game. It’s easy for me to scream, “Damn God to hell for doing this to us or at least letting it happen!” but I know things could be worse. If we were still living paycheck to paycheck like we were for a while, we’d already be screwed big time. Maybe even dead. But I’m tired of money being an issue and the stress and hardships that go with it every single fucking day of my life!!! After all these years, why should I think things will ever change? Every time we start to get ahead, we get kicked back down. If this happened occasionally I’d call it life. But because it happens all the time I’d call it an obvious and scary pattern that says it’s just the way it’s meant to be. Something up there wants to torment us to no end, especially me since I stress a lot easier than Tom does.

Tom explained to me why he thinks things will work out, when we’ll get our money, etc, and in the midst of it, he told me about yet another person we never met who died who is only adding to our stress. It’s one of the politicians that’s fucking with people’s lives. Why is it that some stranger’s death has to put us out while our deaths wouldn’t put a single person out whatsoever? My parents would be sad for a while and Jesse would have to have our bodies hauled away and our shit packed up and dumped, but that’s the extent of it. If anything our deaths would be a bit profitable. We may not be rich in cash but we are rich in collectibles, gadgets and electronics. Remember, my job was once to win sweeps and contests before the economy went to hell and never came back.

All I know is I’m just sick of our lives coming down to one big vote. Everything is all about voting; things that shouldn’t even be a matter of voting. I’m tired as hell of politicians, society and whoever else being in the driver’s seat of our lives! All we do is get stuck in one endless rut after another! We want so badly to move on, but life just won’t let us.

And of course the fucking politicians are going on vacation like they do every other week and that could mean additional stress time for me while they’re out having fun and living it up at our expense. Meanwhile, nothing that I myself have ever done – not that I’d want it to – could ever have any kind of serious effect, control or power over anyone else. Why is that? Why am I one of society’s designated little slaves? Well, I don’t want to control other people’s lives or anything like that or put them out in any way. I only wish to hell they’d let my husband and I decide how to live our own lives! Starting with a job – just a lousy fucking job – would be really nice. But no, that’s too much to ask for. It’s always too much if it’s us asking for it. Again, why is that??? Why are we any less deserving than the next guy?

I’m not going to get into it now because I’m too frustrated, but tomorrow we’re going to try something in an attempt to break free of these chains God/society/politicians/life/whatever has put on us. I meant it when I said I doubted life could ever be what we want it to be, but still, if it works, then California can take their fucking jobs and shove them way, way up their asses. :) And the government can go fuck themselves right along with them. :)

SUNDAY, JUNE 27, 2010 Another day of hating to wake up and face our incredibly bleak-looking future. I almost didn’t write today because I have been too depressed. Yesterday, though, I was oddly calm. I wasn’t depressed, pissed or scared. I even laughed a few times.

But our fate is still etched in stone. The stage has been set and things are going to be set into motion soon, and there won’t be a damn thing we can do about it. Not unless something miraculous happens real soon after hopelessly trying to return to the land of the living for the last 20 months. Oh, didn’t I tell you? Miracles don’t happen to Tom and Jodi. They really don’t. And as sad as it may sound, a part of me is hoping they don’t. I don’t want to spend another 30-40 years working hard just to be rewarded with all kinds of struggles and hardships, never to achieve any of our dreams while we’re at it. We’d only be miserable most of the time and forced to live a life of settling. So I’m ok with the end if the end is as near as it appears to be. We’re estimating we can make it for about another month.

They say God has a hand in guiding us down the paths we travel in life. If that’s true, then He really could’ve done a better job in preventing a lot of the bullshit we went through from happening. Had the house Tom been in when we met been a little bigger, a little newer, a little nicer, and definitely a hell of a lot quieter, we’d probably still be there today and the house would have been paid off years ago.

Or He could’ve helped make sure we never lost the Maricopa house. There are a number of things He could have done to help us. But He didn’t. He just didn’t care to help us help ourselves choose a better path in life. Instead, He pretty much took our hands and led us in all the wrong directions.

All I know is that if nothing gives between now and a month from now, we’re positively screwed. Either the government has to make good on their promise to pay us the money they owe us, or someone has to give my husband a job. These are the only ways to survive other than winning tons of money and that’s certainly not going to happen. Meanwhile, we’ll see if he’s right about the temp agency he used to work for calling him in for an interview tomorrow, even though I’ve learned that interviews don’t mean shit if no one hires you. The work world belongs to the young and the not-so-white, and so what if my husband has tons of experience and qualifications? Dark skin and youth are still preferred over anything else these days in this country. Still think the good old U. S. of A. is the best country?

So smile, God, we just may be in your little kingdom soon. :) You gonna beat us over the head with money there, too?

I realize my saying these things about God may piss some people off, but I don’t want to hear it, ok? Just move on to someone else’s journal if it bothers you that much. We all have a right to our own beliefs and it’s ok to disagree. So let’s just accept the fact that we can’t always agree on things and leave it at that. I don’t try to cram my beliefs down other people’s throats and I expect the same respect in return.

Even if we got the money owed to us in time, as Tom totally believes we will, we still have to go back to worrying about whether or not we can beat the clock. Tom can fill out every single job application in the world, but we can’t make anyone give him a job.

Meanwhile, I guess I should live as if the end isn’t near and keep plugging away at my online job even though it doesn’t make much. But something is better than nothing, isn’t it?

In other news, the water pressure was sluggish yesterday, and I thought great, just great. We’re going to be spending what may be our last month on earth dealing with this shit. So Jesse came down and checked things out, but once he saw we had no leaks or anything, he went and checked out the well. Everything at least appeared to be ok, but he switched us over to the ditch to allow the main tank time to recover.

The good thing is that he doesn’t think he got that job down in L.A. This way I won’t have to worry about him being 400 miles away in case of an emergency. He’s never home as it is, but is usually just a phone call away.

Another good thing is the weather. It’s hot and dry like I like it and we’ve finally been able to leave windows open all the time. It’s to hit 100º today which is fine with me! I’m sure I’ll be the only one in Auburn, California to squeal with delight once the thermometer does hit 100º, and it’s close. Just 5 more degrees to go.

SATURDAY, JUNE 26, 2010 I don’t want to get into much detail right now, so don’t ask, but it looks like the end may be closer than I thought and we very well might be on our last 4 or 5 hundred dollars, then it’s bye-bye for good. The government claims they’re going to send us the 5 grand they still owe us, but I know our lovely government can’t always be trusted.

It’s ok, though, if our time really is up soon. Amidst some disasters, I got to do a lot of fun and interesting things in my life, and it really doesn’t matter much if I die at 44, 64, or 84 when you really think about it because there’s always going to be things we’ll miss and things we won’t miss no matter when we die. I’ll miss some people and some things I like to do, but I won’t miss an awful lot of shit as well.

I’m not saying our number’s up for sure. I’m just saying it looks that way right now. Enough that I’ll probably quit my online job soon and even quit dieting and exercising. I don’t even know if I’ll continue my language studies. If I’m going to go soon I want to spend my last days doing things I enjoy. On the other hand, I enjoy languages and running, so maybe I’ll keep at it.

I will focus mostly on music and writing, but if we can’t make it past the next few weeks, then I probably won’t finish Digital Confessions and I definitely won’t get to Maliheh’s story.

Maliheh called again and tried to cheer me up. As I told her, I really appreciate her efforts, but nothing she can say will change whatever’s meant to happen. I said and did some mean things 19 years ago and just recently online until I realized it wasn’t her playing with me on Formspring and I’m sorry. But I’m glad that in the end we finally got to work things out and move on.

“If the end has truly come for you, what are you going to do?” she asked me.

I said, “I’m going to pick my last meal just like death row inmates do. Mine’s going to be lobster. Then we’ll probably gamble our last $100 or so in a casino and leave it to fate to save us if it wants to.”

Tom, on the other hand, thinks he’s going on an interview on Monday. The temp company he used to work for had a few jobs he’s qualified for that he applied for, and so he thinks that as soon as their computer flags him as having worked for them before, they’ll at least want to see him even if they don’t hire him.

Yeah, whatever.

Paula’s sending $10 for me to make her up some CDs. No problem. I just hope she sends it before we go if we truly do end up going. Like I said, though, I don’t know for sure that this is it for us. It just looks that way right now and I don’t want to discuss it anymore. I just want to kick back, relax and live it up till it’s over. If it’s not over, then fine, life will proceed as planned.

Later…

El Cocko’s back on his summer watering sprees, not realizing – or giving a damn – that it cuts our water pressure down. He roared out on the motorcycle at 8:30 and I doubt he’ll be back till after dark. I just hope he doesn’t do this shit while he’s at work.

FRIDAY, JUNE 25, 2010 I just heard from Marie. She made it safe and sound to New Hampshire and says I didn’t have to delete her email from the blog (she was complaining about all the repetitious Maliheh entries). She just wishes she could be here to comfort me. And I appreciate that, as I told her, but I not only planned to take a break from writing elsewhere but there’s only so much her comfort can do. Not that it wouldn’t be nice, but as I reminded her, what’s going to happen is going to happen whether she comforts me or not. Tom and I can only do what’s within our power and control to try to make things better. The rest is up to fate, like it or not. Fate. That’s always what it comes down to no matter how hard we may try to achieve or change things on our part. Fate. It’s such an evil word in some ways.

And so are scorpions. You know, the ones I thought I left behind in the desert along with the fucking tarantulas. Guess it goes to prove that we can run, but we can’t always hide. The past will be back to haunt us anyway. It was in the kitchen. At first I thought it was a weird-shaped spider, but as I got a little closer to it, I could see it was a small scorpion – yuck!

We both got up as the sun was coming up. At one point I was in the bathroom when I heard water dripping. I checked the faucets, but they weren’t dripping any more than usual. Then I looked at the window which was partially open and saw water running down the screen. My first thought was that the cooler sprung a leak and Tom went out to check it out. He came back a second later and said it was raining. If we were allowed to live in a peaceful place where we didn’t have to have sound machines going all the time just to be able to concentrate on whatever, I’d have heard the rain falling. It was just a quick light rain, but once again, the weather’s been so damn freaky here! It rarely rains here between now and September or October.

Tom read that in a few years, they’re going to have an evaporative cooler that can be used even in humid climates. I told my folks it’s too bad they couldn’t have one. They’re so much cheaper than ACs and I love how they pump in fresh air instead of circulating the same air.

Haven’t heard much from Eileen. I know she’s a busy person, but a part of me wonders if my stories may’ve scared her off. Then again, if mine could scare anyone, then Stephen King wouldn’t have any friends at all.

Later…

Here’s an entry I can’t post online as I’m writing it right now on 6/25/10, but I will post it right before we die, as it looks like the end could be a hell of a lot closer than even I realized. Before I get on with it, these final words of mine – if that’s what they truly end up being - are NOT to piss anyone off or to make them feel guilty or upset in any way! That is NOT my intention.

The fucking state had to get federal funding and so they only sent us one week’s worth of unemployment instead of the usual two week’s worth they’d send us every other week. I thought Tom was saying they were going to send the week they owed us, plus the next regular check within a few days to a couple of weeks, but apparently, they’re not sending us anything else till they send us our next round of forms whenever they happen to feel like sending them, plus that week owed to us. And of course they neglected to let people know about it until the day they were supposed to send the last round of checks. And of course my ever-so-trusting and optimistic husband believes we will get the money soon enough. But I’m not so sure, and I’m also not so sure I even want to. I just don’t know that I want to bother living anymore and this is why I’m writing this now; in case we don’t make it.

I guess I’d prefer to live, but do I? Do I really? Do I really want to live when I know life could never be what we wanted it to be anyway? Do I really want to live just to struggle another 30-40 years in someone else’s tiny old rental, never to get our dream home or have any kind of financial security? I don’t think so. If we could get a decent house without having to listen to hours and hours of barking and struggle to make ends meet, then sure. But this is obviously just a dream.

Tom said we could declare a hardship if the checks stop before the jobs return and cash out on at least some of our pension, but I’m not interested. That would not only sink any hope of buying a place right there, but we couldn’t make it between the time the checks stopped and the pension money came. These things usually take months.

I’m still sad, scared and mad – definitely mad – but the thought of ending it all appeals to me like never before. It no longer seems the terrifying, devastating thing it was in 2007 when it looked like we weren’t going to make it and would be forced to choose between death or starving on the streets till my parents helped us. Does it really matter whether I die at 44, 64 or 84 when there are always going to be things I’ll miss about life as much as there’ll be things I won’t miss at all?

No one we know could possibly help bail us out this time around if we really are on the last 4 or 5 hundred dollars of our lives, which is all we currently have right now. I don’t trust the government one minute when they say they’re going to pay us the 5K that’s owed to us and carry on from there on out, and you know what? I hope I’m right. If we don’t go now, we’ll only have to go in a few months, so why delay the inevitable?

I’m no longer dieting or working the Turk and I may even quit exercising. I don’t want to spend my final weeks or months (whichever it is) doing things I don’t enjoy. I don’t even know that I’ll bother to finish my story or continue with my language studies. All I want to do is sleep, eat and listen to music till the end comes. But I can’t put this online right now because I’m not going to be dumb enough to risk intervention. If we’re going to go we’re GOING. Period. We’re not going to risk surviving so we can go on to have worse lives than we already have. I’ve been there before (after I jumped and broke my arm) and I’m not going to be there again. We’re not going to do anything for the sake of attention, though I’m sure there’ll be those who will insist we killed ourselves merely for attention. There’ll also no doubt be those who will be quick to call us cop-outs, saying that if we just hung on a little longer – just a little longer – things would’ve gotten better. But we DID hang on! For over 20 fucking months!

All I want to do at this point is just get it the fuck over with and get out of here. I’m ready to take the chance that there could be an afterlife awaiting me that might be much worse than being on the streets in this life. I hope my death isn’t slow and painful and that I don’t go on to a place worse than this, but I’m going to die someday anyway, and I’d rather it be together in the comfort of our own bed than on the streets in some cold, dark alley with our stomachs growling with hunger.

We will die from carbon monoxide poisoning. We don’t have a garage, so we’ll light some charcoal in the bedroom after sealing ourselves up in it. We’ll leave a note in the kitchen for Jesse. He might want to smash the bedroom windows from the outside to let the fumes out, though maybe they’ll dissipate by then. I don’t know how these things work. I only know that if all goes well it will shut our brains down right away and be a faster and less painful way to go.

I’m sorry Jesse will have to deal with this and I appreciate his letting us split the rent payments, but I did NOT appreciate all the barking and his lame excuse of “When I’m not home there’s nothing I can do about it.” Sorry, but there WERE a few things he could have done, and like it or not, dog owners ARE just as responsible for their dogs when they’re not home as when they are home.

I just want to take the last couple hundred dollars, get a lobster at Red Lobster, gamble off the rest at one of the casinos, then end it all in what I totally believe would be a quicker, less painful way than the streets would have been.

Tom filled out all the applications he could. But we couldn’t make anyone give him a job in the end.

I figured all the bad dreams I’ve been having had to have meant something. I don’t always dream good dreams before something good happens, but I always have nightmares before bad things happen.

I’m tired of feeling like a child whose life belongs to society, fate, God…whatever. We’re suffering because of these fucking greedy bankers in which enough was never enough. How many fucking fancy cars and houses would have ever been enough for them? How many?!?! Do they even care about the millions of lives they’ve destroyed? Does God? No, I’m sure He doesn’t. I’m sure He’s blessed them with lifelong good fortune. Geez, maybe I should’ve been a bad person. I mean a REALLY bad person. After all, they seem to be the ones to get it all. Maybe if I’d had a kid to abuse I’d have all the money in the world, or at least enough to keep me from worrying so damn much of the time. Maybe if I’d killed someone I’d win a nice new house.

I may’ve made some accomplishments in life and had my fun moments, but most of my life has been nothing but a tale of woe and rejection. And in the end, it consisted of a government that cared more about “bailing out” other countries rather than taking care of its own. And now thanks to the Republicans, greedy bankers, God, and whoever/whatever else may’ve had a hand in this, my husband will never have the home we wanted. Just a lousy fucking home was all we wanted. Nothing fancy, nothing special, just an ordinary home with an ordinary life where we didn’t have to struggle and where I didn’t have to run sound machines to drown out my neighbor’s fucking dogs that are left to bark for hours each day. But all this was too much to ask for. If it was ME asking for it, it was too much. Getting a job and eventually a modest home in a peaceful place was just a dream. We might as well have been asking for a million bucks. My sister was right in saying this dingy trailer was all we had in life. We had each other’s love too, but without money, that love couldn’t possibly matter because the cold hard fact is that without money, one can’t live. Period. Money really does make the world go around, like it or not. I wish the evil thing had never been invented. Money kills. And it killed us.

I don’t know why God cared to bless the rest of my family and Tom’s family with homes and money. They may not be rich, but they never had to struggle a fraction of the degree that we did. Not even close. We were just as capable and deserving as them and the next guy, but God obviously didn’t think so.

But it’s ok. Don’t feel sad. I really did prefer death over the streets, or else I’d be out there right now, hungrily trudging through some alley waiting till I collapsed with hunger. But my husband and I both agreed we deserved better than that, and that was death, and we both wanted to go together and not leave the other behind. I never would’ve been tough enough to handle the streets. I’m just not as tough as people thought I was.

I’m sorry I couldn’t find it in my heart to forgive my brother, sister and the people in Arizona that screwed us so bad. I couldn’t even forgive Tom’s mother for abandoning us in a previous time of need and deciding she no longer wanted to be a mother to my husband and a mother-in-law to me.

While I can’t make my nieces acknowledge the fact that they said some pretty mean things to me and harassed me for months online, I hold no ill feelings toward them.

My brother told me up front he wasn’t going to get involved in any family disputes when he decided to waltz back into our lives in the mid-90s. Then his son died. And while that was a horrible thing, he used that as an excuse to shit on the family every chance he got, pitting various family members against others, etc. I dumped him as soon as he started sticking his nose where it didn’t belong. I was so pissed! Just furious! And ever so glad I did not live near him for I would have ripped him to shreds. Not even his generous height and weight could’ve saved him from my wrath! But I will try to remember the good times in the end, and there were some good times. My brother had a great sense of humor.

As for my sister – I’m sorry, I just don’t believe her. I tried and tried to look for all kinds of other possibilities, but regardless of which one called the cops on me, she STILL had a hand in leading the Jew-hating freeloaders to our door who were hell-bent on legally screwing me in a day, time, age and state that they knew they could do so and get away with it. She STILL sent the letter she sent to my husband in defense of her abusive ex. She STILL called him and defended him by phone, too. I don’t know, maybe she didn’t call the cops. Maybe she meant it when she said she didn’t know where we lived at the time, but one of them, be it her or Bill, had to know where to send the damn pigs in the first place, didn’t they?

But at the time I didn’t understand what I do now about women who love and are attracted to abusive men and how they subconsciously seek them out and all that, etc. The point is the same, right or wrong, I stuck up for her and I ended up in jail. Not for sticking up for her, but for the freeloaders. Had she not turned on those trying to help her, we never would’ve known there was a warrant for my arrest at the time (we had no mail service where we lived) in the first place. And eventually, the statute of limitations would have expired. It’s a shame our relationship as sisters had to end the way it did. We were actually kinda close in the end, despite how different we were. But some things just aren’t forgivable. And I don’t think forgiveness is something we can choose. I think it’s like with our orientations and what flavors and colors we like. Which basically means it’s not something we can consciously choose. We can hope, but I don’t think we can choose. At least I know I never could. I have forgiven almost everyone who’s ever wronged me. It’s just my siblings, uncles, Tom’s mom and our old neighbors I can’t forgive. That alone may seem like a lot, but again, it’s not something I have much control over. I would never accept Jenny C back as a friend. She was just too selfish and bossy for me. But I forgave her years ago. Why, I do not know. Why did I forgive Maliheh B for breaking my heart in such a rude, mean and totally uncalled-for manner, and for making the same prank calls that only I was dragged into court for? Would an apology from those I couldn’t forgive have made a difference? I don’t know. But I do know that it’s kind of hard to forgive someone who doesn’t believe they did wrong in the first place.

I’m sorry to put our deaths on my folks and those friends – cyber and not – that cared about me/us, but I know they’ll get over it. Just please try to look on the bright side of our deaths, and believe it or not, every dark thing in life really does have its shiny spot. We would have only gone on to struggle, we’d have continued to worry, and like I said, the idea of spending the rest of my life in someone else’s noisy rental didn’t sit well with me. We probably wouldn’t have been insured till we were 65, and well, I never did want to grow old. No one would’ve been there to take care of us once we got to the point where we couldn’t take care of ourselves.

Maybe when we’re dead God will explain why He’s had it in for us for so long and why He favors some people over others and blesses some with better lives than others. Why do celebrities make millions of dollars just to act in a movie? I can act just as well. In fact, it’s the one and only thing I’m just about perfect at. I’m a good dancer, a good singer, a good writer, and good with languages, but I’m an excellent actress. I don’t know why. It’s just the way it is. But how come? Why are they lavished with millions simply for acting in a movie? Acting is easy. We’re not all good at it, but it’s easy. Try writing books such as I have. That’s way more work than acting in a movie. So where were MY millions? My husband had all kinds of sophisticated computer and electronic knowledge. Where were HIS millions? Seriously, I hope I get to turn the tables and beat HIM over the head with the fucking stuff for once, and shove money bills down His throat and ask, “Why?!?! Why, you mother-fucker?! Why did you leave us no choice but to kill ourselves, knowing full well I could never have made it on the streets?! Here, choke on the shit, you fucking bastard! Much in the way you made my husband and I choke on the fucking shit!”

As I said, every dark side has its bright side. I’ll no longer have to worry about poverty or any illnesses or injuries I might have gotten. I’ll no longer have to live in a sick, twisted world that legally discriminates against people who are every bit as good – if not better – as everyone else. I’ll no longer have to sit and watch Tom’s hard-earned tax dollars from his working days go to lazy welfare bums and terrorists in other countries. I’ll no longer have to watch blacks get away with hate crimes simply for what “might” have happened a century ago. I’ll no longer have to hear in the news about some kid who was beaten by his mother over and over again only to be returned to her one last time before she kills him. Really, I’m tired of life’s unfairness. I’m tired of seeing good things happen to bad people, and bad things happen to good people. It’s like God WANTS life to be unfair, wrong, twisted, backward, and just plain sick. And so unless some miracle happens that I can’t see (but you can believe me when I say that miracles don’t happen to Tom and Jodi S), we will be dead soon enough.

Never once has God made anyone who’s ever wronged me – in a big way or a small way – pay for it. Never once. That leaves only me to have to deal with them. It’s up to me to take care of them because no one else is going to. God isn’t, the law isn’t, no one is. No, I’m not going to go after anyone before I die. Too risky. No one’s worth going to prison for and death is better than prison as it is the streets. But if there’s even the slightest chance I can haunt them from the other side – those that have REALLY burned me bad – you can bet I won’t hesitate! So just because I may be gone, don’t assume we’re done for I just may be back. :)

Joely N and Michael M were the black freeloaders who lived next to us in Phoenix and vandalized our property, along with blasting music constantly. We could not eat, sleep, think or even piss in peace. In exchange for complaining to the city, the Jew-hating, vindictive assholes had their cop friend, Jerry O, also black, type a threatening letter (if it wasn’t one they received from someone else they pissed off) in which he got my fingerprints on during our little interrogation by thrusting it into my hands. He knew I’d made pranks and threats before, so I was the perfect one to set up, and then my being so naïve to the law was further taken advantage of and I was railroaded like crazy. I was tricked and manipulated into pleading guilty for something I wasn’t even charged with. They never told us about most of their “evidence,” all falsified, until right before sentencing. I truly believed at the time I was being sentenced for writing about them in my journal, in which they pulled copies from out of our recycle bin and altered and added in all kinds of threats and racial slurs, determined to play the race card and turn it into a racial issue. And so I was made to look like the bad one and I lost half a year of my life and thousands of dollars. Forget about all the stress, rage and frustration I went through on account of these people’s hatred. So God help these people if my spirit is free to “visit” whomever I want to in the afterlife. God help them! And Paul, my wonderful lawyer who put on the most pitiful performance in court, and Judge H, who went along with the DA and her INSANE sentence. Wife-beaters don’t even usually get 6 months!!!

Tom was my compensation for those who were abusive to me, be it verbally, emotionally, physically or legally. But never was I compensated in other areas I was lacking in life. Never.

So many people were always quick to point out my weaknesses, but rarely my strengths. The newspapers back east were quick to write all about the prank calls I made. But whoever wrote about when I quit smoking other than myself?

I could never have proven, though I wish to hell I could have, that I was wrongly jailed in 2000, then slandered by the media. But what if I could have? Do you think the Arizona Republic would’ve been quick to shout THAT from the rooftop?

Tom begged me not to go alone, insisting he would be sent to prison no matter how obvious it looked like suicide and not murder, and I laughed. I fucking threw myself out a window when I was 17 and no one cared. I was punished for it instead and treated as if I’d just tried to kill a dozen people. Believe me, they made me wish to hell I had succeeded! No one who had a hand in influencing me to jump was ever made to pay for it, so why would my husband, who would have absolutely nothing to do with it, be made to pay? He’s just as much of a victim as I am. Then again, I just got through saying how unfair life is, didn’t I? So yeah, we will go together. He wouldn’t want to live without me anyway, any more than I would want to live without him.

Should we smash our stuff before we die so no one can get what was ours? Nah, I don’t care about our stuff or what happens to our bodies and neither does Tom. We won’t be needing them anymore, so it really doesn’t matter. I just wanted to have my final say is all. People are going to choose to believe or not believe what they want, and they’re going to make all kinds of assumptions, and that’s ok. I expect and accept that. People will say we didn’t try hard enough to find work, we didn’t fight hard enough to live, and that’s ok. Say what you want, think what you want. We know the truth.

Some are probably asking themselves, “Couldn’t they have borrowed money from someone?” But no, we couldn’t have. Tom’s family wouldn’t have given a shit about us if they could’ve afforded to help us, and I think they could have, and my folks have had major expenses with having to pay for medical costs and needs that aren’t provided by Medicare. Besides, they don’t have much longer to go themselves and we couldn’t have gone running to them every time the shit hit the fan.

I hate to bring up any horrible memories, but it’s kind of like with the 911 attacks. Those that jumped knew they’d be burned to death if they didn’t. And most of us would no doubt rather jump than burn. While Tom may make it for a while, I’d certainly burn on the streets in no time. And so I have chosen to jump rather than burn because that is our only two choices. If I didn’t have a sleeping disorder and could at least get a bed every night in a shelter, I might’ve been able to make it a while, but getting beds in shelters is very hard to do what with how few beds there are compared to homeless people.

“You’re so smart.” “You’re so talented.” These are things I’ve heard many times throughout my life. And while it was true that I didn’t know it all, I’d say that yeah, I knew more than your average Joe Shmoe and Jane Doe. I played instruments, I could draw, I could dance, and I got to be a pretty damn good singer after quitting smoking, believe it or not, after being the worst singer in the world as a kid. Really, I got to be about an 8. Not bad. Not bad at all. I did some skating, I could act, and I was familiar with a dozen languages. But you know what? In the end, none of it mattered. Not one single bit of it meant shit. I may as well have been dumber than a newborn.

When they first took me to Florence jail in 2000 and I spent those 12 hours there, I couldn’t help but feel like something was preparing me for something. And it was. It was preparing me for the half a year I would spend in the Phoenix jail. Something up there was showing me – See? It’s not like on TV. People aren’t going to be raping and beating the shit out of you, so don’t worry. It’ll be hard, but you’ll survive.

Same with what happened at the motel in 2007. It was preparation. It wasn’t just to reconnect my parents and I, and it wasn’t a reprieve. It was just an extension. One to help get me “used” to the idea, if you will, of staring death in the face.

I’m sorry, Marie. I know you loved me and I appreciate you caring for me the way you did, but I assure you it would have been much, much easier to say you’d help us than to actually do it. Maybe if we weren’t so far away, but we were. I know you meant well, though. I hope you find that special someone someday.

To Andy: I’m sorry I wasn’t a better friend to you. I hope you continue to have the success you’ve been having.

Will I go to heaven or hell? Will I be reincarnated? Something else? Nothing at all? I don’t know the answer, but I guess that if God had planned all along to send me to hell because I had a few girlfriends before meeting Tom, wouldn’t He do that no matter when and how I died? Well, either way, I’m going to find out what happens when we die soon enough and I guess they’ll add my name on legacy.com. I was born in 1965, btw.

I’m still scared of the actual dying process. I’m scared of what may lay beyond. I’m a little sad and a lot mad. But I have to die someday anyway, and I’d rather go on my terms than on the terms of a bunch of sick greedy bankers and a bunch of fucking twisted politicians who put themselves first, other countries second, and their own people last! They’re the ones to blame along with the God above who sat back and let it all happen. Yeah, congratulations, assholes, for right along with the bastard in the sky, you have managed to help kill my husband and I. I hope you’re happy.

THURSDAY, JUNE 24, 2010 The guy here got the picture situation squared away, and we’re now friends on Facebook too, LOL.

Poor Shanara. After a 4-day tease, she finally got her period. “Oh, haven’t you heard?” I almost told her. “God gives to those who don’t want and who don’t deserve in the first place.”

Despite how young she is I sense she’d make a great mom. Just the fact that she wants a kid is enough to disqualify herself in that department, but I still think she’ll be pregnant within a year. God may prefer to bless people with other people’s dreams, but I don’t think Shanara’s as unlucky as I am. Even she herself said she hasn’t been through nearly as much hell.

Later…

Yesterday I was so depressed. I had several crying spells and would try to stay in the other room so as not to share my misery with Tom. I just didn’t want to get him all down as well. I tried to keep as busy as I could to distract my mind from the things that are depressing me. As soon as I would relax and do things like listen to music, my mind would go off on a tangent and pretty much take me places I didn’t want to go.

My days are numbered and there’s no playing it down or sugar-coating things unless a miracle happens soon. Meanwhile, I feel like I’m just sitting here in one big old waiting room, just waiting, waiting, waiting… watching the time tick by and knowing I am completely powerless to change fate. Knowing that sometimes some things really don’t work out and get better and that all one can do is try their best to change things. Like those trapped in a collapsed mine. Those who aren’t killed instantaneously will fight to survive and get out alive. Some will succeed, but some won’t. Well, without getting into detail just yet, that’s pretty much the situation my husband and I are in right now. Our world has collapsed and we’re still alive and struggling to survive. But after doing all we can possibly do on our part, the rest is up to fate. We’ll either make it or we won’t.

I would prefer to live and go on to buy that dream home we’ve been wanting and to be able to fill my journal with many happy things. But some of us just aren’t in the habit of getting what we want, and I’m one of them.

There is much sadness, anger and fear, but at the same time, if our time really is meant to be up soon, I kind of wish we could just get it over with and be gone from this world right now. Why wait around for the inevitable? It only drags out and prolongs the stress. Might as well get it over with. If we live we would never have gotten what we wanted, I’m tired of living in other people’s little old dumps, I’m tired of listening to their fucking dogs, I’m tired of financial worries, and I never wanted to grow old anyway. And who would have taken care of us once we got too old to care for ourselves?

Normally we keep the back bedroom, the bathroom, and the front kitchen windows cracked during the summer, but the barking has gotten so bad I had to shut the front window and open the side one instead.

Later…

I knew those bad money dreams had to mean something. Sure enough, we’re only getting a week’s worth of money, and they say they’re going to send the rest within a few days to a few weeks, but I’ll believe it when I see it. I started praying to God for me to not only be right in believing the money will run out before the jobs return but to see to it that we don’t get the money owed to us so we can get out of this sorry world sooner.

Tom’s still so sure he’s going to get a job before the money runs out but says that worst-case scenario, what he’d like to do is apply for all kinds of assistance, not because he hopes to get anything, but to make the government work for screwing us. Then he’d like to declare hardship and cash out his pension and live it up till that runs out, saying he doesn’t want to just die and not be able to enjoy some of what he worked so hard for first.

Me, I still just want to go when the time comes. I’m ok with gambling off what’s left and living it up that final day, but as soon as we’re out of money and there’s no stalling Jesse on the rent anymore, I just want to go. Period. Why delay the inevitable? It’s like being on death row. Why prolong what’s only destined to happen anyway? Besides, I wouldn’t be in the mood to live up anything. As it is I’m fast losing motivation to live. My will to survive is totally becoming drained the more we struggle on and on and wait for nothing. I’m tired of stressing over money while God, the government, the state, etc., do absolutely nothing to help us!

I simply don’t have the will to live anymore. Nothing interests or excites me anymore. I haven’t wanted to have sex, I haven’t wanted to go anywhere, I haven’t wanted hardly anything at all. I have to push myself to work, I have to push myself to exercise, I have to push myself to diet. All I want to do is write and listen to music when I’m not eating or sleeping. Oh, and study languages. I wish I were one of those who could tell myself, “Cheer up, things will get better. Smile, be happy!”

But I don’t know that. After 20 months, how could I really believe that?

Applying for assistance would be more work for us than it ever could be for the state and government, as I told Tom, and why spend hours waiting and filling out forms for nothing?

Knowing full well how much time it takes to cut a check and that they simply wouldn’t write it out, put it in the mail and send it to us, we’d have no money for 4 months or so between the time the unemployment checks stopped and we got the pension money.

My life may never have been perfect, but it once held the promise of all kinds of surprises and possibilities. Now my life is so damn boring and predictable. I have hobbies that I enjoy, but I wonder if it’s only a matter of time before I lose interest in those things as well.

How did my life get to be so full of stress and hardships? Once upon a time I never worried about how we would pay the rent or if we could eat. My worst money worry was simply whether or not there’d be anything extra leftover for fun stuff.

A part of me misses my old problems. They were frustrating, but they were safer.

Sometimes I wonder, what would it have taken for God to give us a break had we lived into next year and beyond? Would we have to be attacked by someone first? Have this place burn down? Become paralyzed in an accident? What would make us just as deserving of a decent life as the next guy?

Once again, there’s no doubt at all that Maliheh’s checking me out.

I looked up Hope Mills on city-data.com after we talked. The winters don’t have the kick that MA winters have, but she still gets some snow. I’m surprised. I thought almost all of NC was nice year-round. It’s humid as hell from what I can see – yuck! I’ll stay in Auburn even though its winters are as cold and wet as the summers are hot and dry. Our average highs are in the 30s and 40s in the winter with the average lows being in the 20s and 30s.

Finished chapter 18 about 5 days ahead of schedule. Didn’t accomplish much yesterday, though. I was too depressed.

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 23, 2010 I’m not sure which is worse – scary dreams or sad dreams. I dreamt that Tom died. I don’t know what I was doing alive. I meant it when I said I’d kill myself if anything happened to him. The only thing was that I only knew him for a decade in the dream. I was sitting at my computer trying to block him out of my mind when the reality of the fact that I’d never see him again hit me and how short those 10 years together seemed in comparison to a lifetime. In my mind, I screamed for him to come back and give me another decade together.

I actually woke up crying and I told myself, if you two don’t ever kill yourselves together out of desperateness for some reason, and if you don’t end up being the one to die first, he’s almost certainly going to go first being that he’s almost 9 years older, and one day that realization that you’ll never see him again will be for real. So maybe you oughta quit bitching that he’s home so much of the time and always there.

My husband and I may be more like damn good friends than anything else, but he’s my one and only true soul mate. The only one I could ever really be myself around that fully understood me, and that I could tell anything to. It isn’t that I couldn’t be myself around people like Andy and Marie, for example, and tell them anything. It’s just different with Tom, and well, he and Andy and Marie are totally different people. It’s something I don’t think anyone could possibly understand without experiencing the same feelings. I would literally break all my bones right now to save his life if I had to. There’s never been and never will be anyone else I’d go to such extremes for.

TUESDAY, JUNE 22, 2010 I got a score of 100% on my first 3 Catalan lessons! Still plugging away with the German too, and reviewing my other languages – Spanish, Italian, Portuguese, etc.

Marie is going to see Tammy this weekend, a former girlfriend from Valleyhead who’s now married with kids. I know she’s really excited about it, so I hope she has fun and enjoys the visit!

Some people have asked what happened with Maliheh and me in court. Well, we never got that far. I had other legal issues going on in a nearby town at the time. Maliheh’s case was in another town which was dismissed on January 15, 1992. Part of the deal was that her case would be dropped if I agreed to plead guilty for the pranks I committed on a company that was taking me to court in the other town, and I did. As my lawyer told me at the time, the DA would rather try to nail my ass for calling a big company as opposed to calling one person.

Maliheh’s upset with me because her friends are dumping her on Facebook.

And that’s supposed to be my fault?

I see she picked up the messages I sent her on MySpace back before I knew what was going on.

Andy and I swap a few messages here and there on Formspring and it’s great. I love laughing over old times and catching up on the present. It’s just enough contact to keep in touch, but not so much that it keeps me from my work and the other things I do.

I told Tom I gave Andy my own phone number and he said that wasn’t a good idea. He said that since he obviously must not trust me since he hasn’t given me his number or email address, now he has a weapon to use against me if he gets mad at me again whether I deserve it or not. I asked how he could use it as a weapon, and he said he got slammed with prank calls on his cell about a year ago.

“And you’re just now telling me this?” I asked him, and he said he didn’t want to worry or upset me, but why would it? Besides, I don’t have to answer if I see a number I don’t recognize.

It is kind of interesting that he hasn’t given me any contact info. He doesn’t seem to have anything vengeful planned, but I’m not worried either way. I don’t want him to tell me anything he doesn’t want to tell me, and these days a phone is hardly a “weapon” to use against anyone. I’m just surprised anyone would have the guts to make prank calls these days. It’s too damn easy to get caught, even if you block your number. The cell and landline numbers have been previously issued to other people, so whoever the caller was might have also been dialing randomly or thinking they were calling someone else.

Tom just came in cuz he just wanted to make sure I didn’t want to yell at him some more before he gets to doing what he’s doing, and I said no, I’ll yell at him later, LOL.

MONDAY, JUNE 21, 2010 OMG, this is so fucking funny! Maliheh’s definitely reading my journal! OMG, I’m laughing so hard now I can barely type. OMG, it’s sooooo hilarious. I swear she had 2 photo albums on Facebook, 1 with 2 cat pics, the other with 2 of her, 1 of her house, and the same 2 cat pics. A couple of days ago I commented on how I didn’t like the face shot of her in my online entry titled Anonymously Maliheh. Well, that disappeared after I mentioned it.

After the Looking for Maliheh entry where I tell people to search for her name on Blogger if they want to know more about what happened with us in my 1991 entries, she hides her friends.

After today’s Maliheh Turns into a Cat entry where I claim that she contacted me on Blogger saying to check out her profile, etc., she almost disappears entirely, LOL! I can’t poke her, I can’t friend her, I can’t see her friends, I can’t see any pics but that damn cat profile pic, nothing. OMG, it is just so fucking funny the way I’ve been fucking with her. For so many years I blasted God for protecting my perps (even if what she did is nothing compared to some others), but maybe I’m their Karma, LOL. My playing with her may be harmless and she knows this, but just the thought of writing the story and her going to read it, no doubt wondering what I make us “do” in the story, totally amuses the holy hell outa me. :)

It gets even funnier. You can share people’s profile links on your page, and I made sure to share hers! Under links you can usually leave a comment. I said, “Aw, such a cute little kitty!” I asked Marie to say how much she was looking forward to the story, LOL! Well, I did this after I asked one of her friends why so many of her friends were friending me, asking me to friend them, then both disappearing and reappearing.

Wish to hell I could see the messages she’s exchanged with friends! And her profile as well.

SUNDAY, JUNE 20, 2010 Marie called yesterday just to hear my voice and to cheer me up. I love her for caring, accepting me as I am, and trying to assure me that things will work out. But how come everyone else is so sure of that and I’m not? What do they know that I don’t? Or is it me who knows something they don’t?

Andy left some messages for me. I always felt he’d one day meet Stevie Nicks since he had become friends with her mother, and he has! He said they’ve met 4 times and he has pictures of them together. I’d love to see them!

He says Marla doesn’t read my journal because she’s busy, my writing has improved immensely although he doesn’t read my stories, and he can read Spanish but not fully understand it though he’d love to learn. I directed him to the language learning site I use.

Still can’t learn Esperanto at the language site because they’re still messed up. Yeah, them and their fucking problems. I warned Andy about that, too. But I was able to enroll in the Catalan course, so now I’m learning that. Again, it’s just another variation of romance languages, so it should be fast and easy. I got 100% on my first lesson. Still need to get on with my German, and of course there’s always room for improvement in my other languages. I may know a shitload of Spanish and sign language, but even I still find myself totally lost at times if the person speaks/signs too fast.

People have asked if I have any learning tips. Just keep at it regularly and try to make yourself think in your new language. When listening to music, translate what you can when you listen to the words and do things like that.

What shocked the shit out of me was that Andy said he wasn’t aware of all the legal shit that went down with me in 2000. He only learned of it through my journal. I was surprised because of all the publicity the case got. It got the same kind of attention murderers or celebrities get! The media circus was so insanely asinine that I still can’t believe it ever happened and I doubt I ever will. I remember thinking, “What’s next, a call from Oprah?”

Tom wonders if Andy may be exaggerating how well he’s doing. Yeah, I wondered that, too. According to him, his life became great as soon as I left it. Hmm… interesting. I doubt he’s exaggerating, though, and if he is I doubt it’s by much.

Yesterday I was out hanging sheets when all of a sudden I was face to face with this cute little mommy bird sitting on her eggs in this nest that’s been in the corner of the porch roof for a while now. I took some pictures.

It was 50 fucking degrees when I went out running yesterday morning. 50 fucking degrees in June! I miss living in a warm climate! By mid-June last year and the year before we could keep the windows open till mid to late August, but not this year! We still have to close them at night. :( That’s ok. A few more months and I’ll never have to worry about being cold ever again if things don’t turn around.

SATURDAY, JUNE 19, 2010 The IHOP turned out to be great. It was funny, though, cuz on the way there I commented to Tom that the bill would come close to the amount of the GC which was $25. He said, nah, it wouldn’t, there are a lot of places having specials these days, etc. But sure enough, it was $4 just for his soda and my coffee which was excellent since they’d just opened and brewed their first pot. It all came to $23.88. He got chocolate chip pancakes, and I got sirloin bits mixed with sautéed mushrooms and onions which included two eggs, hash browns and a couple of buttermilk pancakes which I soaked in butter pecan syrup. Man, was it good! I even ate most of the nearly 1200-calorie meal, too. Since Tom’s been dieting and isn’t used to eating so much at once, he couldn’t finish his. Not even I’m used to eating so much at once! I was full for hours.

I was told by Shanara that my journal was inspiring to her because I don’t try to sugarcoat my life. I had to laugh at this one because usually it’s the other way around and I tend to drive people away when I’m having my down times. Not intentionally, of course, but I do tell it like it is, and many people are simply put off by us when we’re in a foul mood of some kind. As I told her, though, I WISH I COULD sugarcoat my life. Believe me, I WANT to be able to fill this journal with all kinds of happy things. Yet I continue to sit here and watch people just go up and get what they want in life with little to no effort at all while I pray to God for just the damn basics just to be ignored. What’s the trick? Really, what am I doing wrong? Why is it that so many people can just up and take what they want from life as easily as one gets up in a restaurant, walks over to a buffet table, selects what they want and walks away with it?

So many people say they believe God loves everybody equally. Yet look at all the diversity in life. Does He really, really love us all equally? Or could it be that people choose to tell themselves this because it’s just too damn scary to think otherwise and to accept the possibility that He/It may actually have it in for some of us?

In other news, I began learning Esperanto which should be simple enough and take no time at all being yet another romance language. It’s one of those cases where I could understand the gist of what was being discussed if I looked at a webpage in Esperanto, but couldn’t pull whatever I wanted to say out of thin air on my own until I study it. I can’t decide if it’s more similar to Spanish or Italian. Some of the words are close to German, and of course I would not know that had I not started learning German. So it’s true that the more languages you learn, the more they help with others. So far I have begun learning just a few rules and basic words, but just as soon as the language learning site I normally use gets its act together I can begin learning it right. Those jerks always have tech issues, always.

Later…

LOL, no more friending Maliheh’s friends. She’s now not only got her friends invisible (except for the 3 that have accepted my friend requests), but now she’s hiding her likes/interests and she removed that face shot I mentioned in my last entry, too. I’m surprised she didn’t block me altogether, but like I said, she could be hoping I’ll harass her so she can then have grounds to get me. That’s ok. I’m smarter now than I was 19 years ago. I know how not to get carried away. She’ll never fuck with me again. She just doesn’t want me getting at her friends, obviously, and that’s ok, too.

Well, now there’s no doubt as to whether or not she knows what’s going on, LOL! I’ll back off now. Wouldn’t want to burn any of the few bridges that are left when it comes time to let her know her story is done – hahaha!!!! I mean, I still have her email addy, but she might’ve blocked me or marked me as spam. Maybe she’ll be curious enough to keep checking my journal every so often to see if it’s there, but I will email her and let the friends of hers I can get a hold of know about it when it’s done.

I forgot to mention that I asked one of her friends who went to initiate a live chat with me after “wowing” a couple of my photos how Maliheh’s doing these days and how they knew each other. He played drums for her for a few months, he said. What, was she a singer or something? I don’t remember her mentioning being into singing in the very brief time we knew each other, but she did mention playing the guitar. Anyway, this one unfriended me, obviously not wanting to get involved or go against Maliheh, but I still have the other two friends.

Jesse’s gunning engines now. I’m not surprised. He does love the cold and it seems the only time he can sit still is at night or when it’s hot. Well, when he’s even around in the first place. Like I said, as annoying as they both are, I’d rather the barking than the engine gunning because that’s easier to drown out. I wouldn’t mind if he’d finish the weeding down here, especially so I can have a clearer running track, but I also want to go to sleep soon, too.

FRIDAY, JUNE 18, 2010 To the one in Texas: Yeah, you’re right. As I just told someone else, it’s hard to give a shit about life when life doesn’t seem to give a shit about you. There’s only so much effort one can put forth on their own to better their life. Our lives have been awful since coming here and in many ways, I’m sorry we did. It’s quieter here, but we have absolutely no life at all and we obviously never will either. I used to look forward to waking up, but now I just seem to function like a robot for the most part just waiting till the end comes.

To the “feathery” one: I hear you! I wish we were black sometimes, too. Then my husband would get first dibs on jobs, we could play the race card anytime someone pissed us off and count on people siding with us, and even be exempt from being charged with a hate crime should we decide to take our frustrations out on someone that’s different than us. I doubt we would ever be that vindictive and cold-hearted, though, so I’d settle for just the special treatment in the job world.

In a few hours, we’ll be at the IHOP. Hopefully, that will pull me out of this dismal mood.

As I told Marie, I’m sorry I can’t be a better friend to her. One that’s more fun, closer in distance, and able to devote more time to her.

Later…

Hey, everybody! I got 6 months for a threatening letter I did not write, but what’s this teenage-punching pig get? More training!

Still think there’s a good God up there?

Why do they bother to film their violent acts and corruption they lavish upon us citizens if they’re just going to be allowed to get away with it???

I’m kind of surprised, even bummed, that the people in the area didn’t jump and beat the pig down. Since they’re obviously immune to any form of real disciplinary action, maybe if society starts fighting back and kicking the crap out of these pigs, they’ll think twice before they fuck with us. Talk about it being no way to treat a lady! No one this angry and macho should be allowed to serve on the police force. No one. Someone could be chasing me with a gun and the pigs are the last ones I’d count on for help.

Geez, I shouldn’t have watched this. It not only made my foul mood even worse, but it’s only going to deepen my hatred for whatever’s up there.

Well, this is just going to be one of many things to remind me that while there will be some good things in life I’ll miss after I’m gone, there’s still an awful lot of shit I ain’t gonna miss as well! I will miss my family, friends and hobbies, but I won’t miss living in such a cruel and unfair world one bit!

It’s 5am, so the dogs will be going off anytime now. Gotta put the sound machines on. I can’t believe how much more realistic the sounds have gotten. It really, really sounds like it’s raining in here. The old ones just sound like static. Anyway, they don’t go off as much at this time of year, and when they do it’s not usually for long, but I like to have them on anyway so I’m not distracted from whatever I’m doing. The only time I can count on them not distracting me is when it’s really hot or Jesse’s home.

Tom believes that most people wouldn’t be bothered by the dogs at this distance, but I’m not so sure I agree. Yeah, they’re about 150-200 feet away, but these are fairly good-sized dogs with loud barks, and we do live in a trailer, not a normal house. The walls and ceilings are only a couple of inches thick. That’s why it gets so hot and so cold in here as easily as it does. Maybe someday whatever’s up there will feel we deserve a real home. I doubt it, though. I doubt it. So should I tell myself it’s better than being on the streets? I suppose I should, but it doesn’t necessarily make me feel any better depending on what mood I’m in. If something’s bad enough, does it matter if there’s anything worse?

Anyway, I had to work in 4 different languages yesterday. If there is one thing I can thank God for it’s the ability to pick up languages as well as I do, even though I’m sure I’ll never be native-like in any of them since I don’t plan to ever live where any of these languages are the official language.

THURSDAY, JUNE 17, 2010 Now that’s something different. Maliheh now has her photo album viewable that contains two pictures of her two cats. Shall I use “Booty” and “Kiwi” in her story? LOL Anyway, one of the 3 people I friended accepted, and the one I sent the note to hasn’t replied. I’m kind of not surprised, but maybe I should send it to the one who accepted my friend request. I’ll think about it. I just went and friended about 10 more of her 50 friends. It’s interesting to see what she’s written on her friends’ walls. On the wall of the girl who accepted my friend request was a happy birthday wish.

She writes as spastically as I remember her to speak, drawing out words with extra letters.

Oh, wait! Now I can view 5 profile pics when I click on her ‘photos’ tab. I swear I couldn’t view anything before. Wonder if she’s feeding me info or something. Anyway, there were the two cats, one house and two of herself. One is the picture I’ve been seeing all along where a part of her face is blocked. The other is a good face shot. She’s still thin and still looks a decade younger. Probably weighs less than I do just like before. In 1991 I was around 100 pounds and she was probably around 90. But she does look older and kind of plain for that matter, and her hair is boring. I liked it long and straight, but now she’s wearing it shoulder-length and wavy. I would never recognize her, though, if we passed each other on the street, and I wouldn’t be the least bit attracted to her these days either.

Set most of my blogs private. At least for now.

Got a lot to do today, but what else is new? It’s cool, though. I like keeping busy. Never was one to just sit around and stare at walls.

Swapped messages with an old lady in Ohio and a black guy in Louisiana. Both had interesting things to say.

I forgot to say that there’s one other thing Andy and I talked about the other night, but it’s a hushable that can’t go online. What was funny was that I knew damn good and well it wouldn’t be anything we’d disagree on. He feels the exact same way I do yet it’s something most people would criticize us for even thinking about, LOL. I wish I could take his advice too, but it would only be a temporary fix.

I think he missed the questions I asked him yesterday. He left me a message yesterday but doesn’t seem to have noticed mine unless they’re questions he doesn’t want to answer, LOL. I forgot to ask how he can afford insurance with his own business. That shit’s expensive! Even if I had all the money in the world, I would never pay for insurance unless I had an existing condition where I knew I would use it regularly.

No matter what his faults are and my faults are, I still love the hell outa the guy. Always have, always will. We could scream at each other one minute, then in the next, I could say, “Give me a hug, you asshole,” and I know he’d smile and be quick to give me that hug. If he were suddenly at our door in need of a place we would take him, even if we had absolutely no room for him. And we don’t. He’d have to live on the floor.

His mom’s alive and well, he told me. I don’t know why, but for some reason, I thought they were both gone.

And Marie’s always gonna be a special one, too. Yeah, she’s still a part of my life even though I haven’t written much about her in the last few days. I just gotta keep a whip handy in case she’s a bad dog. :) I let her know I was alive so she wouldn’t worry. She said she woke up scared, but can’t remember the dream that woke her. I’ve been sleeping shittily too, and have had unpleasant dreams.

Oh, someone asked me what have I learned most by spending so much time broke. That’s easy. That it’s not always our fault. We don’t always have to be lazy, stupid alkies or druggies to end up this way. Those homeless people on the street – they didn’t all “ask” to end up that way. Some of them did, but some just fell prey to the wrong circumstances. It can happen to anyone. Anyone.

Couldn’t my parents at least pay to store our stuff and give us food and gas money so we could at least live in our car if we were faced with homelessness? someone else asked. I don’t know the answer to that with the way their medical expenses that aren’t covered by Medicare may be adding up, but I wouldn’t ask them to in the first place. My parents aren’t going to be around forever to run to, and I swore in 2007 that I would never again ask for money. Death would be better than the streets anyway. Either way, I have a few rules I like to stick by. I do not take sides or defend anyone in a fight. I do not ask you for money. You do not ask me for money.

I was also asked if I pray. Not too often. Most of the things I ask for don’t happen, and when they do, they seem to take forever, so I figured I’d be better off just trying to rely on myself and just do whatever I can possibly do on my own to get something I may want. I hate to say it, but it’s kind of hard not to give up on a being that seems to have given up on us. Guess some things just work better for others.

I can relate to a lot of the feedback I’ve gotten and have felt similar emotions as some folks have described. I have felt sorry for myself. I have felt angry. I have felt punished. I have felt like a failure. I have felt like a victim. Now I’m just trying to feel acceptance as to the fact that whatever will be will be, and not be so hard on myself. I have many skills and talents and I know that and it’s not like we have nothing. We have each other’s love and a lot of nice collectibles, clothes and electronics. If we didn’t have so much shit in here, this place wouldn’t seem so small.

Gosh, I sound so depressing, don’t I? I assure you, though, I sound more down than I actually am. It’s like me saying my grandfather died in 1985. Well, it’s sad that he died, but I’m not depressed.

To answer other questions, Andy is a family friend, not an old neighbor. I’ve known him all my life. He’s 4 years older. Sometimes we do Formspring live, other times we pick up messages when we can. Sometimes our schedules will clash and sometimes we’ll be busy, so we can’t always chat live. I should always be able to get in to answer questions at least once a day. We didn’t chat today, but that’s ok. It would keep it more special not to chat every day. I’m ok with once a week, even once a month. By then I just might have something new to say anyway, LOL.

Lastly, I probably won’t work much on my new story till I’m done with my current one, and yes, writing is loads of fun and one of my top hobbies. You won’t usually make much money in it what with all the writers out there unless your books are turned into movies, but it is fun.

Speaking of books, my friend/teacher/editor in the UK will be releasing his latest book soon after about 6 weeks of editing. Maybe someday I’ll set up a site and have my own books available for download for a small fee.

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 16, 2010 Formspring keeps crashing, so I will answer a question Andy asked me right here. Not surprisingly, he’s siding with my MIL and judging a situation he only knows some of. sighs I hope I’m not going to regret us being back in touch with each other. I’ll always be sorry for things I said and did to him that was wrong (and I appreciate his apologies for his own part in it), but man do I hate being pushed and judged! There’s nothing I hate more than being told what I should do, what I need to do, and what would be “right.” What’s right for some isn’t necessarily right for others. Then after this, I would appreciate it if no matter how much he still didn’t get it or agree with us he would not bring it up again. It wasn’t his problem, it never affected him, and he shouldn’t be bothered by stuff that doesn’t pertain to him in the first place.

We don’t bother with those that don’t want to bother with us. Period. And while we would probably accept her apology if she apologized for abandoning us in our time of need, I would still prefer not to associate with those who could do that to us in the first place. Would he want me to insist it’d only be “right” for him to get back with Michelle?

Anyway, Tom’s mom is a very wealthy woman. Not millionaire rich, but wealthy enough. Probably even wealthier than my folks. When I first became a part of the family people secretly warned me of her tendency to use and take advantage of people, and I found it so hard to believe. She seemed like such a nice lady and I was proud to have her as my MIL. It was when his dad died in 1995 that things changed. She began asking for a million favors – mostly car rides and home repairs. I had the same attitude about it at first and as most people would I’d tell myself, “But she’s his MOTHER.”

We learned that before Dad died, his parents agreed to take half of whatever money they had whenever the first one died and split it amongst their 5 kids. But none of us ever got a dime. No one said anything, though, because hey, it was still her money. So those of us struggling to make ends meet continued to struggle while her savings climbed well over the quarter-mil marker (Tom’s the one that used to do her taxes. Of course).

Tom’s a softie at heart and easy to take advantage of. It wasn’t long before I could see that she was using him, but I just put up with it figuring it would stop when her house was sold and she moved in with Tom’s sister like she eventually did. But it didn’t stop. She would always promise to “catch us later” when we’d have to shell out money we barely had for parts we’d have to run out and get in order to repair this or repair that, but we were never paid back. When the money came into the thousands I finally put my foot down and pointed out to Tom that hey, we didn’t have all this extra money to spend. But she did. Then there was the fact that I hardly ever saw my husband when I didn’t go over to her place with him. After work and on weekends he was with her. She became more like a daughter to us. My husband was becoming a stranger and it seemed we mostly kept in touch by phone. I’d call over there but he’d be too busy being run ragged at our expense to talk for long.

Finally, I said, “Ok, so she’s your mom. But that doesn’t make her God or give her the right to treat you the way she has. We’re losing so much money and time. Isn’t that enough for you?”

He agreed. But we didn’t want to “dump” her just because she was selfish. We didn’t hate her and we still don’t. We just simply told her the truth – that we were running out of money and needed to start spending more time with each other. Sure she did little things along the way like buy him lunch from a fast food place while he was there working, but all the burgers and fries in the world couldn’t have possibly made up for the thousands of dollars we were out, and all the time we lost.

But we kept in touch as always.

Then we moved to Oregon. They told us to ask if we needed any help. When all the disasters up there struck, she sent 5K. We greatly appreciated the help and offered to pay her back, but she said not to. I was ok with that, though, as I kind of saw it as getting part of the money we were supposed to have gotten when Dad died, and well, she was rich and we were poor. Just don’t ever ask for money again, we were told. Hearing this really hurt, too. I’m sorry, but a parent’s job of helping their kids when they need it should never end just because their kid may be in his 40s and has needed help before. I found that to be really cold after all we’d done for her. Then all contact from her stopped. Our cards and letters went unanswered as did emails to Mary and Dave. We’d been abandoned and left to fend for ourselves in our next time of need. She was never “dumped” and she was never “cut off.” SHE chose to abandon us and abandon us she did. There was nothing we could do but accept this. We’re not in the habit of trying to make people associate with us who don’t want to, and like I said, I know most people think that if it’s family they should automatically be forgiven and allowed to treat us however they want to treat us. But Tom and I just aren’t that way. If we don’t like you for whatever reason, we aren’t going to bother with you whether you’re family or not. And if we’re wrong for it, so be it. And no amount of pushiness can change the way we feel. We have a right to do what we feel is best for us and we will. Ask anyone who knows me, the more I’m pushed to be someone I’m not or to do something I feel isn’t good for me or that isn’t right, the more I tend to swing the other way.

So if my presence really matters to those who know me personally, then I suggest you not push me away and that you just let me live my life as I see fit. Just worry about yourself, Ok? Don’t tell me what’s right or wrong or try to change me and I won’t do it to you. :) If you really read my journal you’ll see I’m very big on the idea of acceptance and people being allowed to be who they are. I’m not about to go to church if I don’t want to – for example – just because the lady down the road may think I should and that I’d be wrong for not going. Lastly, this is the last time I’m going to defend myself on this subject. I’m an adult and I don’t owe anyone any explanations for the things I do. Neither does my husband. I’m tired of people judging me. Just tired of it! I don’t want to hear about my in-laws, I don’t want to hear about my nieces! Blood relation is NO excuse for abuse!

Oh, I should add that this was in 2004. We last talked to Mary (the one I call Miss Perfect) in 2007 when even worse disaster struck when we moved down here. She put a call through to my folks who at the time had long-distance blocks on their phone. I really appreciated her doing this, but once again, they knew how to contact us, but never once did they call back the next day to ask how we were. They just didn’t care. In fact, I can’t believe she even put the call through and accepted my collect call in the first place. I really can’t. Maybe she was just curious to see if I was going to tell her Tom was dead or something when it was my voice she heard requesting her to accept charges, IDK. All I know is you can’t pay people back who don’t want to be paid back, you can’t make people return to your life that has abandoned it, and frankly, I don’t want to either. Not even my own folks would turn their backs on us like that, and believe me when I say they have their faults, too.

I’m just under 5’ 4” in height. Well, on these 5-inch heels, I’m wearing I am, LOL. Each time I wear them they get easier to walk on and the balls of my feet and ankles don’t hurt as much. But I wish they made the sole out of suede or something because my heel tends to slip off. I need one more hole in the ankle strap to hold it snugger around my ankle. Tom said he’ll punch one in with a nail for me. He’s a sweetie, but I can do it myself.

I got up earlier than I wanted to and found I was up a pound as well. So I said, “fuck it,” and didn’t go out running today. Instead, I stuffed myself with Jelly Belly jelly beans. The ice cream parlor mix is yummy.

I was watching a video a friend on Facebook made about how she was being stalked by some woman. Does anyone online NOT have a stalker?

I’m still not sure whether or not to set my blogs to private or not. No, I don’t want to write anything that might offend people, but it’s still also my journal. I will think about it some more.

Later…

Andy and I were laughing over old times and catching up on each other, though he’d certainly know more about me through reading my journal than I would know about him. Some things are obvious, but other things I’m not sure if he’d want online or not, so I will use my best judgment. He can tell me to delete anything he doesn’t like.

He said he was sorry if he upset me with all the MIL talk. That’s ok. No harm done. He knows that when it rains in my journal, it really pours! In other words, I’m just a bitch who really lets it all out.

He has done so well for himself over the years. I ain’t gonna lie; I really thought his life wouldn’t change much. It seemed to be the same for so long, but then again, so was mine. Seriously, though, I really did see nothing but poverty for him all his life. Instead, it was really my own future I was seeing.

He said he wasn’t trying to brag or rub it in, but he owns his own condo, his own business, has a 5-year-old car that looks new, health insurance and money saved up. He’s had many boyfriends but still prefers going solo. I was so happy to hear this, but once again I started to wonder what went wrong with us. What did we do to deserve to be broke and renting someone else’s trailer at ages 44 and almost 53? Come on, it’s gotta be our fault, right? Right?

Wrong. It was just part of our chosen destiny. I mean, if this is our fault, then it’s also the little kid’s fault who got murdered by his insane mother, right? Right?

Wrong. Some things are just meant to be, plain and simple. I can wear all the high heels I want, but I was still meant to be short and nothing can change that. I don’t know why we were meant to be poor, but we are. I have asked God to give me the strength to accept this fate that we cannot change (even though my husband thinks we can), but He has refused my request. Perhaps that’s because it was meant to be a punishment of sorts. IDK, maybe we ripped people off in a previous life. It seems He really wants me to feel the stress and frustration that comes with never knowing for sure if we’re going to be able to keep the roof over our heads and food in our tummies. Two days in a row I had bad money dreams. Were they warnings? Or just because it’s what I’m preoccupied with?

Either way, I am bound and determined to accept the poverty that’s in my destiny. I don’t know how or when, but I’m going to someday, somehow, accept what I cannot change. It’s not like we haven’t tried. We’re still trying, but no one will cut us a break. We only have so much power. Not everything is within our control, though I sure wish it was.

But as I told Andy, living poorly isn’t the end of the world and we don’t need insurance either because we are healthy. If this is what’s meant to be and what’s right for us for whatever reason and who we were meant to be, then so be it. It at least makes the easier times more special and keeps us from taking things for granted. I know it sounds funny saying that I hope to “do better” at being poor, but I really think life would be easier if I just learned to accept it.

I know we’ll never own a house again. Tom doesn’t know it, but I know it. If we were meant to have a house, we wouldn’t have lost one house and two pieces of land. And I’m still convinced that I was given this sleep disorder to help hold us back. The only way I can work is at home and without a schedule and there’s only so much money I can make that way. And please don’t even ask me to explain it or try to tell me that all I have to do is set an alarm. If it were that simple, folks, I’d be doing it.

To sum it all up; the point is the same. I know we’ll always be renting dumpy little trailers if we make it through the economic crisis, and that’s still an if. If there’s any good in knowing we’ll never own a place again, it’s that I won’t have to worry about losing it. I know money will be an issue for us no matter how long we do live. But we’ll never again ask for money and I will one day learn to accept that no matter how smart, ready, willing and able we may be, it ain’t gonna change the basic plan for us. We’re poor, we always will be, and that’s just life for some of us. If we can just keep a roof over our heads and food in our stomachs, I can then consider anything extra as a bonus.

Anyway, I’m super happy for him but wouldn’t want the condo. I WOULD rather rent. You know anyone within 0-3 feet of us can’t shut up. We all have our areas in life where we’re cursed. For us, it’s money, toilets and neighbors if we have them too close to us. Barking, car stereos, house stereos, car doors slamming, inside doors slamming, people stomping or running, screaming kids, cabinets slamming, TVs blaring – you name it, we’d get it. Some of this is to be expected when you live so close to others and even reasonable, but it was always overkill for us. Always. We always just “happened” to get those extremes.

Andy also had a dog next to him that drove him crazy. He called the pigs on the owner all the time, but the owner himself was a pig. He’s VERY lucky he never went to jail! VERY lucky! See what I mean when I say that I’m made to pay for what others can get away with? Pig ended up moving because there were so many complaints about it. This kind of surprised me being a pig and all, and because so many people let their dogs bark so much.

He urged me to get rid of Jesse’s dogs by dumping them somewhere or killing them. I would if I knew he wouldn’t replace them, but he would replace them. This is the West, you throw your dogs outside and you forget about them.

Oh, and I asked if it was him who asked me those questions that didn’t seem like questions he’d ask. He said it was and he was just trying to throw me off his scent. He really threw me off, alright! I really thought Tammy, and then Maliheh, was behind it.

Tom was emailed a qualification test today. Let’s hope it’s for a reason and not just to waste his time!

Andy hasn’t been friends with Michelle since 2000. She started tweaking and still is, though he talks to her mother at times.

I’m fucking with Maliheh again, even though I know I shouldn’t and that it’s got to stop. But I just had to send her a message yesterday telling her that if it’s not really her sending me the anonymous messages on Blogger, and if she didn’t really “ask” me to write a story with us as lead characters, please let me know because I’d like to know if someone’s impersonating her. But if I don’t hear from you, I told her, I’ll assume it’s you and send you a copy when it’s done.

I figured she’d either continue to be determined to ignore me, assuming she’s gotten all the messages, or would be so freaked out at the thought of someone impersonating her that she would want to deny contacting me. I figured her most likely choice would be to ignore me, and that’s the case so far. But could she possibly be ignoring me because she’s curious about the book? And why hasn’t she blocked me on MySpace and Facebook?

Anyway, today’s joke was to friend a few of her friends on Facebook, and to send a note to another saying:

Is Maliheh B still around? The last thing I want to do is bother any of her friends, but she sent me a message on Blogger asking me to friend her here. I did, but am not sure I did it right and that it went through.

You can tell her I’m working on the book she asked me to write with us as lead characters. I was really freaked out at first for about a week there, thinking that someone was impersonating her, but when I sent her a message asking her to let me know if it wasn’t indeed her that I’ve been swapping messages with, however anonymous they may be, she didn’t reply, so I assumed that yes, it really was her. I meant it when I said I had no hard feelings about the past. We all make dumb mistakes! Anyway, it will take several months, but I am mapping out the plot and doing all that fun stuff we authors have to do. I will email it to her when it’s done. I might mention it there from time to time as I work on it. Don’t know if I’ll post it there, though, once it’s done. The title is either going to be Evil Amongst the Evergreens or Strangers in the Woods. She’s welcome to send any input she wants. It’s her story in a sense. She should hear from me again at the end of the year unless other projects I have going delays it and it will eventually go to my publisher/editor in the UK. I altered her last name, as she asked me to, and am sorry this is so long. :)

TUESDAY, JUNE 15, 2010 NOTE: This entry was written before I got Andy’s 3 messages (yeah, he said I could say his name). The next entry will be my comments on the messages he left me. I will also reactivate Formspring but not until I know he’s had a chance to read this. I’ll reactivate it tomorrow night, probably between 6pm - 9pm.

Got a nice anniversary card from my parents with $40 enclosed and an IHOP GC for $25. That was way nice of them! Think I’ll work on a letter to them tonight. Just as soon as Miss Can’t Keep a Schedule for Shit pushes her schedule up a few hours, we’ll go IHOPing at 6am.

It just hit me that anyone reading this journal who knows the person I was referring to in my last few entries, would know who I’m talking about. but that’s ok because I’m not saying anything bad about them (at least I don’t think so) and it is still my journal, in which case sensitive viewers are invited to leave. :)

They’re still welcome to leave the messages, but I’m not sure I understand the point of rehashing things all these years later. What would be the point of it? Really, what in the world is the point??? What happened happened a decade ago and it’s not like I beat the shit out of anyone. So why is it still so important to them all these years later? Again, I’m sorry for being such an ass and not giving them our number and address when we moved, but nothing’s going to change what happened. Guess sometimes we still gotta get things out.

And how many times can I swear I didn’t erase part of the tape? Huh? How many? If I wanted to spite them that bad, wouldn’t it have made more sense to simply not send the tape at all? But I did send it because even though I knew I was moving on and planning my little disappearing act, that was no reason to keep what was theirs.

It also hit me what they meant by my voice being so slurred. I made the tape deliberately do that for funny effects. See, the tape recorder I used to use to tape their messages was an old ancient piece of shit that when you held the ‘play’ and ‘record’ buttons down just partway, the tape would slip and slide, making whatever you were recording slur up and down and sound funny as hell. I remember recording some of the edits that way. The “edits” were bits and pieces of conversations and prank calls.

I have had many hours to sit on it and while I’m still going to take a wait-and-see attitude, I still don’t know if we should rekindle the friendship. For one, they basically just did the same thing I was guilty of – being an ass. I’m supposed to be sorry for all the mean, hurtful things I said and did (and I am), but why should they be able to make cracks about my husband’s weight and say mean things themselves? Since when do two wrongs make a right? And why would they pick on someone’s weight when they themselves admit they’re heavy, too? That makes no sense at all. I understand their anger, but do they really want to be friends, or do they just want to get me back?

There are basically 3 issues I have with this person. The two I just went through which is the fact that we’re rehashing old shit and doing the same thing I did that I shouldn’t have done. I’m still very glad they contacted me and got things off their chest, though, even if I don’t get half the things they’re talking about. The third thing is that I would worry about them pressuring me to do things I didn’t want to do if we were friends again. I don’t need them judging me for the way I handle situations and people like my nieces. It’s ok to disagree on how I handle them, but who the hell are they (or anyone else) to tell me I was wrong for it? If I beat the snot out of some spoiled brat of a kid in public that just can’t shut up, then people would have a right to judge and pressure me. But when someone bombards me with harassing and threatening messages, family or not, I’ll handle them my way, thank you, and if you don’t like it – then oh well.

No, I’m not mad at them – fucking mosquitoes get off my fucking monitor! – and I’m sorry if I’m coming off as a bitch, but I’d rather be honest and lay all my cards on the table. Isn’t that what they accused me of not doing in the past?

Like I said, I’m not trying to excuse what I did or play it down. And I know they can’t help what they feel. What may bother one person a lot might only bother another a little. All I’m saying is that the things they’re so angry about seem rather petty compared to other things. Try being framed by your neighbors and their corrupt pig pal and losing thousands of dollars and half a year of your life. And that was just some of what we lost. But yeah, for the zillionth time, I did wrong. I fucked up. I really did. And it was wrong of me to write in the journals I sent them that I was going to share it with their family. I wasn’t going to really, I was just fucking with them. It was mean and I’m sorry. I also remember writing that I’d be back in their life someday, though, at the time I wrote it, I honestly didn’t think I would be.

Never thought they’d clean up their act either and quit the cigs and pot. I’m way proud of them! I really am. They said they quit smoking in 2002 and that I was part of what helped influence them to quit the weed. They said it pissed them off so much that I could tell they were high when they last called that that’s part of what gave them the incentive to quit 17 months ago. I’m also surprised they have a computer. They just never seemed the type to get anything that technical. Guess I just don’t always know it all!

Was it really as long as they said it was since I last heard from them? Damn, it was! Goes to show once again that my memory just ain’t what it used to be. I thought it was only last fall that they called. Aging is as frustrating as it is fascinating.

I thought about admitting to everything they accused me of. Everything. Even if I didn’t do it or don’t remember it. But then I WOULD be a liar, wouldn’t I? I also thought of forgiving and getting in touch with everyone that’s burned me just to make people happy, but if I did that I wouldn’t be being true to myself. I don’t want to have anything to do with those who have hurt me – and I mean REALLY hurt me – related to me or not. As someone else said, blood may be thicker than water, but blood has a way of thinning out really fast when people become ass-wipes. I’d only worry they’d burn me again, all the while I secretly wanted to just strangle them. It wouldn’t be fair to me, it wouldn’t be fair to them. Who wants to associate with those they don’t like if they can help it? Who wants to have to smile at them and put on a false face and be who they’re not when they can simply ignore them? That’s what I mean when I say I would be worried they’d pressure me too much. They once knew someone who died. I won’t say how they died. All I’ll say is that they loved this person even though they were abusive at times. I almost breathed a sigh of relief when I learned they were gone because I was always fearing for my friend’s safety. Always. Then I realized I had no right to judge and pressure them, worried or not. Well, the point is, I would want the same respect in return and I don’t know that they could give it to me. Could they not pressure me to “make up” with those I don’t want to associate with? Could they not shove God in my face all the time and tell me I’m wrong for my beliefs and opinions? They don’t have to agree with me and I would never try to make them agree with me or change them in any way. That’s why I can’t stand these Mormons so much. It’s ok to dislike gays and to think it’s wrong for same-sex people to marry. But it’s NOT ok to try to force people into being who YOU are. If there’s one trait I hate most it’s those who try to get others to be who they themselves think they should be. But I’m ME. And I need to be myself. And sometimes the only way to do that is to disengage myself from controlling people. I’m not saying they’re some kind of a control freak or anything. They’re nothing of the kind. I’m just saying they’ve pressured me before in some ways and I don’t want to go through that all over again. So what if we agree or disagree about God and His intentions? Does it matter? Does it really matter?

Oh, I forgot to tell them that yes, Tom knows the weight would come back if he stopped dieting. That’s why he’s determined to diet for life. He realizes that you have to literally make lifelong changes in order to lose weight and keep it off what with how much slower our metabolism gets with age. We both used to be able to eat all we wanted and not gain weight. Now we just look at food and on it comes. So a change of lifestyle is a must as opposed to just dieting.

Anyway, I hope the person knows they will always live in my heart no matter what happens and I wish them the very best. And their family, too. I know they lost their parents. My belated condolences to you, buddy. I hope they’re still good friends with Michelle. She seemed like such a nice person. If I remember correctly, and that’s a big if, their friendship with Laura ended years ago.

I may never know the answer to this, but I still wonder if I had more than one person playing with me on Formspring. Yes, there were many different people asking the questions, some I knew and some I didn’t, but some of the questions just don’t seem like it was from the person I’m referring to. Yet they obviously knew me. Why would the person I’m referring to of all people ask me how I know I’m gay and why I married a man? They should know how I know, and as I said, if you want to get really technical, I guess I’d be considered bi, not gay. Yes, I have been attracted to many more women than men, but the person I loved the most that I had an attraction for happened to be a man. He’s no settlement if that’s what they’re thinking. No one settles for 16 years. At least not me. Gay, straight, or bi, after we marry, we’re still always going to find various people attractive throughout our lives because we’re still only human. My parents have been married for nearly 60 years. Do you really think they haven’t had a wandering eye here and there during those years?

I personally have not slept with another woman (or man) since meeting Tom, but I do flirt every now and then. Will I ever sleep with one again? Probably not, but I’m also not about to make any promises I may not be able to keep because I just don’t always know what the future holds. I just know we’ll be together as long as we live no matter what happens along the way. We’re soul mates. The lust part may’ve fizzled out over the years as with most long-term relationships, but we get along so well. We haven’t fought in years. The other day he was going through the shed, determined to keep one of the extra rat cages while I went on and on about not keeping too much extra crap around. Well, that is considered a “fight” for us.

Why was the person I’ve been talking to my only male friend? That was another question they asked that doesn’t seem like something they’d ask. They should know I had other male friends, though Fran and “Nervous” were certainly poor choices for friends no matter what body parts they were sporting. Currently, two of my top 3 favorite cyberbuds are males.

I wonder how long they’ve been reading my journal. It was a while ago that I tipped them off about it, so have they just spent all this time quietly reading in the background, or did they just recently get a computer of their own? I guess it could be a new roommate’s computer or something like that.

My new shoes came and OMG! My first thought was: these are so uncomfortable, I can barely walk in them, and I’m sending them back! But as Tom pointed out, they didn’t cost much, I’ll get used to them, and they’ll just give my legs a good workout by working muscles I don’t normally use, and it’s true. Running doesn’t work some of the muscles these things do. It’s just really rough on the balls of my feet and ankles and they pitch me forward as well. Still can’t reach the ceiling, even though it’s gotta be just 7’. I may be taller, but my arms aren’t any longer!

My weight was still at 127 when I got up even though I couldn’t have had over 1000 calories yesterday. Someone kept me so busy I didn’t have much time to eat, LOL. But today I’m definitely going to catch up on the things they distracted me from. Still kinda sorry the game’s over. While it’s true that I don’t need any unnecessary drama in my life, the little devil in me still likes to come out and play at times!

Oh, another question they asked that doesn’t seem like something they’d ask was if I thought I deserved to be jailed for the calls I made. But they used to do the same thing. So if they thought I deserved it, wouldn’t they deserve it, too? Of course there’s always the possibility they asked this to try to throw me off, IDK. I should’ve realized when they asked me if I ever knew anyone who ever had sex with a dog and what type of sex they had, that it was Andy. But I kept my word and didn’t say who it was. It was when he came out with the “rooms being on fire,” lyrics from an old Stevie song, that I knew who he was for sure.

When I still thought it was Maliheh, the only two things I could think of that I wrote about that she might consider lies, was my saying she was drunk the night we met. She wasn’t exactly falling down and her words weren’t exactly slurred either. I also know that while it’s highly unlikely, those calls I got after I got caught calling her, might not have been connected to her.

The revenge thing threw me off, too. The “revenge” was when he first contacted me on Formspring and said the things he said. Well, I guess the next day people gave him some shit about whatever, pointing out the Karma thing. I totally believe in Karma, but I still feel like something’s protected my perps. If they were ever made to suffer in any way, it’s news to me.

Gotta pay for our mailbox at the UPS store too, after a year of getting away with free service. Not sure how many months we’re going to get. We thought of getting mail at our physical address since Jesse doesn’t seem the type to fuck with it, but we like the idea of people being around to sign for things when we’re not home. It may also cause confusion when we move to have one person’s mail forwarded but not the other. If I go back to regular sweeping where it’s once again a part-time job to supplement our income like the other site I work at is, this place would be better.

Later…

Decided what the hell, I’ll reactivate Formspring right now. So go ask me any intelligent or ridiculous question you want, and Maliheh, if you’re reading this by some chance, you have my permission to fuck with me. :) But Andy, make sure you’re always at least somewhat serious so I know it’s you. I agree it would be a good way to keep in touch without really keeping in touch. After all, this is supposed to be a place to discuss what’s going on in my life and my head. Not a means of keeping in touch. And I promise to watch what I say and use my best judgment.

For now - you said you owe me an apology for being annoying. No, I owe YOU one. I really, truly did sound scary as hell on that tape! OMG, I can totally see how anyone would freak out over that one. Didn’t sound like no wind-up toy that time (and BTW, that one had me cracking up). I’m not sure if I was holding the buttons down on the tape recorder or not, but you know my superb acting ability can fool anybody. Even you, apparently, and for that I am so, so sorry!!! I really thought you knew good and well I was just fucking with you.

I can’t explain the Michelle/Laura or other thing other than to assume I was “line mixing.” I’m pretty sure I was reading bits and pieces of a letter we were going to send to Fran or someone like that, along with other shit. Remember how we used to do that when we’d prank people and I’d grab a random journal of mine when I’d write them by hand, then read a line from one page, then another, then another, to really confuse and fuck with people’s heads? Well, that’s what I was doing. I’m sure of it. Hun, I was never mad at you or wanted you to pay for anything or suffer in any way. Had I known how overboard I was going I’d never have done what I did. Never.

And yes, just like I could be annoying for a million reasons, I’ll admit I got tired of the 5-hour phone chats, mostly about God or shit I had no idea about or interest in while you’d chew in my ear, and while I may’ve needed the break from you, it was still wrong not to be more accepting and tolerant. As I just got through saying in my last entry, we’re not all the same. We gotta just let each other be who we are. So it will always be one of those things I’ll forever regret that I also don’t. I both do and don’t regret the break from my folks as well.

And I believe you when you say you’ve changed so much. Most of us do over time. It’s those that don’t change at all (I won’t bother naming names) that I worry about. I’m still into some of the same things, but I’m also into some different things as well.

Oh, and I tried to find what it was you said you wish I didn’t write about so I could delete it, but couldn’t find it. On Formspring, you’ll have to be more specific and tell me the name of the entry. I should be up till 8am, but just remember I may not reply the instant you send messages. Formspring often has issues where it can take hours for questions to go through. Or I could be off doing other things at the time.

Don’t worry about the “fat” comment. I don’t mind if someone thinks I’m fat. It’s kind of true anyway, but that’s not what bothered me. It was your comments about Tom, though as he said, he doesn’t care and it doesn’t bother him. You know how it is – we don’t care so much when people pick on us, but when they do it to those we love we tend to get a little touchy. Most importantly, I personally think I look a little heavy. Not obese, but I could stand to lose a few pounds. Probably won’t, though, as I do love to eat. I just want a piece of my steak! Remember, how I screamed that once when we were working at Denny’s and I was trying to go on break when it was really busy? Man, I was such a lousy waitress with all the mean shit I’d say! I remember some guy saying, “Hey, lady, I asked for more sugar a while ago,” and I hit back with, “Yeah, so? I asked for a million bucks, but I didn’t get it, did I?”

No wonder I was fired.

Yeah, you WOULD, get a kick out of seeing me think it was Maliheh, LOL, and the timing was perfect, too. I really did contact her recently. Then when you said the Dodos were your favorite band that threw me off even more. I thought Fleetwood Mac would always be your favorite.

I wish to hell I could hug the hell outa you, but I can tell you right now there’s no fucking way Tom and I will ever step foot in Arizona again. Part of the reason I can’t write about. Yeah, not even I bare my own soul online 100%. Either way, Tom and I believe in “not going back.” I haven’t been to New England since I left there, I haven’t been to Arizona since I left there, I haven’t been to Oregon since I left there, and if I ever leave California, I won’t be back here either.

Hey, wait till I tell my folks in my next letter to them – all is going slow but well. We thank you for the anniversary present, the weather’s nice, and been in touch with Andy – hahahahah!!! I’m sure they’ll be pleasantly surprised, though.

Thank you for wishing Tom and me our dream house. Don’t know if we’ll ever get it, but I’m hoping we do! But you know I was always better at achieving goals than dreams. If you’re dreaming of anything these days, I hope you get it, too!

MONDAY, JUNE 14, 2010 Had a scary dream about there being no money on our card.

So Maliheh inspired me to jump back on the diet wagon (thanks, girl!) and I’m dropping back down again. I can fall from 129 pounds to 125 pounds in just a couple of days. The hard part is getting under 125. I would look ok at 120, better at 110 and best at 100, but will settle for 115.

Should I “pop” my belly? You know, as in puke up what I eat after I’ve had a few minutes to enjoy the sensation of having something in my stomach? Been thinking about it lately, though it’s something I’ve never done before. I just don’t think I could bring myself to do it. Puking is gross. But the ole “stuff and pop” method does seem to work for some people. I know I could lose weight the healthy, old-fashioned way if I really wanted to, but I hate being hungry all the time. Whichever way I go about it, I suppose I should try to lose at least a little weight before it gets out of hand. I talked about puking with Tom and right away he urged me not to do it, saying the esophagus isn’t meant to handle all that stomach acid, it gets addicting, is a waste of food and money, etc. sighs I’m not sure what to do. I think I could control myself and not get so carried away with it. But if only I could bring myself to actually do it to speed things up! I’ll still work out and stay in shape. I may not work out as often as I should, but I’m still strong, fit and fast and I have been for most of my life. I try to run a mile most days and do a couple of hundred ab crunches. Now I just need to figure out how to bring myself to puke up at least one meal a day.

Jesse was down on some other dirt bike Tom’s never seen before while he was cleaning out the shed. Fortunately, it didn’t wake me up. I got up at 11am with a stuffy nose, then went back to sleep till around 3pm. He said something about possibly having to go down to L.A. on a job. I hope not! Not just in case of an emergency, but because I’ll be the one to have to deal with the barking all night long if he does. They may not like to go off during the hot days, but at night it just might sound almost as bad as a winter day with those things left alone up there. Again, why have dogs if you’re never home? He’s been in and out on the motorcycle and in the truck. He’s rarely home longer than to shit, shower and sleep. In fact, now that the sun is setting and the temperature is dropping, the dogs are going crazy right now.

My new shoes are up in West Sac from Anaheim, so I’ll get them on Monday or Tuesday.

Ok, on with the latest “questions,” that were waiting for me when I got up. They only answered half of mine and the ones they did answer I have no way of knowing if they’re even true or not. I do know I’m losing interest in this game and getting bored fast. Nothing’s changed. It’s just the same old, same old. They continue to cower in the dark while they swear they’re not the least bit afraid of me. Then why all the anonymity? I won’t block them out, but I may put them on ignore unless they’re willing to really start leveling with me and play this game fairly. What I mean by playing it fairly is by telling the truth and keeping their word. Do they really expect me to believe they eat pussy for a living like they said? Why don’t they just not answer what they don’t want to answer? They didn’t want to tell me their eye color or orientation. Ah, but they do know foreign languages, so they say, and they liked my sense of humor best about me. Yeah, that’s what most people say they like best about me besides being for real and not being afraid to tell it like it is. If you asked me for my opinion, I’d tell you your new outfit’s ugly if that’s what I truly thought and risk offending you before I told you what you wanted to hear.

The sense of humor thing doesn’t make sense for Maliheh, though. She didn’t give herself a chance to get to know me long enough to see if I had a sense of humor. Then again, it doesn’t take much to get a person laughing and joking. I probably cut some joke or gave some sarcastic answer/comment about something at the bar.

If it’s true that they really know another language and aren’t just lying to throw me off (unless they consider swears, gibberish or slang to be their foreign language) then it’s definitely not Andy, Tammy or Jenny, and almost certainly not Joely, either. Although I don’t know which language it could be, Maliheh seems like the foreign language type. She was at least interested in sign language.

Sometimes I wonder if I should stop writing about them as they obviously love it when I do. Would they get sick of me if I stopped answering their questions and writing about them? Ah, but right or wrong, I do gotta admit this is kinda fun. I just might miss them if they disappeared, but like I also said before, they’re really starting to bore me and get old.

Later…

It’s Andy. Yeah, he’s the one who’s been giving me a run for my money on Formspring, and no there is no doubt it’s him. He said too many things that my other “suspects” couldn’t possibly know.

Am I disappointed the game’s over and that it’s not Maliheh? Yeah, kind of. Am I surprised it’s Andy? No, though some of the things he said still make no sense. Maybe I had more than one person harassing me, or maybe he threw in some weird ones to try to throw me off, but I’ll never know for sure.

Well, the convo I posted that was fake and staged totally by yours truly as a means of trying to flush them out worked! Guess I’m just too damn good, except that they said I fucked up and wrote “her” where it should’ve been “me.” Oops!

He doesn’t believe it, but I am going to keep my word about not revealing his identity in my online journal. There’s no reason I can’t give him that much and respect his wishes. I deactivated my Formspring account because I knew that if I left it open, people would know who he was. Besides, it’s no longer fun for me now that I know who it is, and I’m sick of Molly, even though she’ll probably bug me elsewhere to try to get at Alison. Andy knows there are other means of contacting me if he would like to continue to talk, and it’s only deactivated, not deleted.

he told me everything that he was upset about, and I must admit I was shocked. Not just by how hurt and angry he’s been, but because I honestly don’t remember doing half the things he accused me of. I’m not shitting either. I tried to remind him that our memories do decline with age. In fact, Tom and I were talking about that just the other day. For the longest time I was notorious for having a great memory, but over the last couple of years or so I can see a difference in both my short and long-term memory. When I do my proofreading of old journals, I’m stunned to find all the things I’d forgotten about. And sometimes reading about them doesn’t always trigger the memory, and I try and I try but I still can’t recall it. I’m not saying I didn’t do some of the things he accused me of. If it’s true I really did some of the things I don’t remember, I think he’s mistaking my intentions. Growing up as kids we pulled so many pranks on so many people. And into our adulthood, too. And as he himself always said, I was always the perfect actress. So I think I might’ve been a little too convincing in some ways and that he thought I was dead serious when I was really just fucking with him. He said he thought I had totally gone over the edge. He said he’s going to call from a blocked number tomorrow night and play a tape of me threatening him. It will be interesting to see if I remember that, too.

But I swear I don’t remember writing in the journals I sent him before moving that he was raped and had to go to the hospital. Or that he had Laura and Michelle watch me in parked cars outside our house.

I said it was up to him whether or not we keep in touch, but I’m not sure if that’s really such a good idea for either of us, especially him. After all we’ve been through he’s never going to take me for face value and believe a thing I say. He’s always going to believe I’m lying and out to burn and then dump him. He doesn’t seem to understand that not everything I tell him is a lie. In fact, very rarely have I lied to him. But yes, I did say and do some mean things. Things that were unnecessary and that he didn’t deserve.

He also seemed defensive of Tammy and her kids and that really bothered me. Like how dare I write about the hell they put me through, right? That’s like me being raped and beaten, writing about it in my journal, then being chided for having the nerve to “treat” them that way! But yet he asked why I would want contact with someone else that caused me a lot less grief than Tammy and her kids ever did.

I’ve done a lot of things wrong in my life and I have hurt some people along the way. But some people really HAVE hurt ME for no reason whatsoever. Why would I want to say or write that someone fucked me over that didn’t? And why should I be ashamed of writing about those who did? That’s what journals are for – to write about the good people/times and the bad ones as well. And while he’s certainly entitled to their opinion, I don’t know if I can be friends with someone who could side with those who have abused or hurt me in any way. Tammy calling the cops on me for trying to stick up for her (even if I didn’t do it in the greatest way) after Bill abused her and Lisa, surprise warrant out for me at the time or not, was WRONG. Even if Tammy apologized right now, how do I know she wouldn’t make trouble for me in the future the next time she got pissed at me?

He probably thinks what happened with the old neighbors and their corrupt pig pal was bullshit as well, but like I said, he’s entitled to his opinion. I just don’t know if I can be friends with someone who’s determined to call me a liar on everything I say as much as I care about him and want nothing but the best for him. Still, I understand why he finds it hard to trust me, and like I said, we don’t have to agree on everything. Like with carrots. He loves carrots – ewwwww!!!! I hate ‘em! Is he the one who loves anchovies, too? As I said, I can’t remember everything I ever saw, heard, said, and did.

I’m not trying to shift blame or deny the mistakes that I’ve made. I have no problem with accepting blame that’s rightfully mine. What do I have to lose by doing so? Some things really are my fault, and no, I’m not perfect, and yes, I sometimes fuck up. So if I’ve owned up to some of the mistakes I’ve made with him, then why does he think I’d refuse to own up to all of them? Yet I honestly don’t recall some of the things he accused me of. Well, I’m saying it right here in print. Yes, I have made mistakes. Some of them I don’t remember. Some may be misconstrued. And some I do remember. But I really do make mistakes and I’m sure I always will.

I contemplated stopping public journaling because I don’t want to hurt people’s feelings or make them angry simply because I write something that I perceive to be true. But then said, nah. Why give up something I love to do? It’s a big hobby for me and I shouldn’t have to stop just because some people are bound to get offended. We all say shit some people aren’t going to like and I’m certainly no exception. Whether you know me personally or not, you’re gonna get pissed at times or at least disagree with some of the things I say. Period. And that’s ok. I accept that much. But should we really be friends again with so much distrust between us? It was wrong of me to do what I did to him. I mean the big, main picture where I simply moved without giving him our new address and number. I may not remember most of what he accused me of, but that still doesn’t mean I didn’t fuck him over. But what he doesn’t get is that I didn’t do it to hurt him or piss him off or because he did anything wrong to me other than get on my nerves at times. My reasons were part of a huge and complex thing that goes far beyond just him. But I DID hurt him, intentionally or not. I did. So he has no reason to trust me. He may not wish me dead, but he should hate me and not want a damn thing to do with me if I put them through as much emotional bullshit as he said I did.

I have no reason or excuse for what I did. None. I guess I just felt compelled to “wipe” the slate clean when we left Phoenix. New house, new town, new people. And not that this is any excuse either, but I didn’t want him pressuring me to remain in contact with my folks. I needed that 10-year break. I really did.

Shit, I drank nearly a gallon of water. No wonder I’m such a little pissaholic.

So anyway, he was also “appalled” at how I treated my nieces. So I should have been kind enough to stay in their lives and let them continue to send me all kinds of nasty and threatening messages simply because we’re related? Just sit back, smile sweetly and take their craziness and their abuse? I don’t get that. I really don’t.

I know that the vast majority of people think one should take and accept abuse from those who are “family” just because they are family, but I just can’t do that. I did it for 30 or so years, but I just can’t do that anymore. I guess I have too much self-respect for myself. You abuse me, and you’re outa my life. Period. And it doesn’t matter how long I’ve known you or if we share any blood. And no one’s obligated to keep in touch with me either.

But in the end, no matter what happens from here on out and no matter how much “Yes, you did, bitch!” “No, I didn’t, asshole!” he and I may go through, he will always have a special place in my heart. How could he not? We shared so many good times. A lot of bad times, but good times, too. I mean it when I say his worst fault was being annoying, just like we all can be.

I won’t give up writing about present times, but maybe I should at least back out of publishing the Arizona journals or keep them in a place where he won't see them. We’ll see. Even if we never talk again, I don’t want to piss him off anymore or hurt him. dabs eyes I’m sending him a hug in my mind and I hope he can sense it. I think he deserves a friend better than me.

Speaking of being related, he was once more like family to me than anyone else, and I think in a way he always has been and always will be, as strange as it may sound. Damn! Fuck! Damn! Shit! Why’d I have to go and do all the things I did??? Here’s where some people would tell me there was no point in beating myself up over past mistakes I can never undo, but I can’t help it. Damn! Fuck! Shit! Mierda! Cazzo (meirda is Spanish for shit and cazzo is Italian for fuck)! Shit, I forgot my German lesson (I don’t know how to swear in German yet).

I wonder if he really has learned other languages or if that was just a throw-off.

And what’s this about me being pissed for our house selling for 2K less. He said this has nothing to do with me, but Jodi, realtors do that all the time. They want to sell the house. Yeah, I know they do. But why would I say or write that when in fact we got way more than we expected for the Phoenix house (85K) and 5K for the Maricopa house? Ok, is HE playing with MY head or is somebody mixed up here? We didn’t know what we were going to get for Maricopa and I don’t remember us having any expectations either way. We’d only owned it for 4½ years and fell way behind on the payments before we lost it when Tom was fired for not being a religious freak at work and wanting to mix business with pleasure. And yes, I kid you not, they really fucked my husband over good.

He said he doesn’t know why, but it bothers him when I blame God for my problems. Yeah, that’s another thing we’re never going to agree on. If someone murders an innocent child, it may be entirely the murderer’s fault, but why did God allow it to happen? Why??? I’m totally convinced there’s always been and always will be some outer force against me. But maybe it’s not God. Maybe I just call it God because I don’t know what else to call it.

But this doesn’t mean I don’t think I’ve been blessed at the same time I’ve been cursed. I have. I really have.

I don’t know what’s going to happen from here on out. I guess I’ll just have a wait-and-see attitude. I just feel he deserves a better friend and that I should stick to those who trust me. I don’t think he really wants to be friends, though, because he won’t give me his number or email, but that’s ok. It’s his right. :)

I know he loves these loooooong, interesting posts, but I’m getting kind of beat. Yeah, he’s been running me ragged, LOL. And I’ve been neglecting my work, stories and language lessons. He doesn’t believe I work and that I have a medical condition, though somewhat rare, that prevents me from keeping a schedule, but I really do gotta at least make some money.

I’m not really going to puke my food up. It’s a nice thought, but definitely something easier said than done. Puking is disgusting. I’d rather just stay fat.

SUNDAY, JUNE 13, 2010 First, here are the questions my “questioner” has asked me so far. Love how they sometimes cap the first letters of nouns like the Germans do. Also, I apologize to my regular subscribers for this entry being so long, LOL! You can just skip it if you want!

Have you ever tried eating Matzoh?

What did you and Andy fight about? Did you fist fight? Did he ever give you a bloody lip?

What do you think Jessie, Andy and Jenny are doing in their lives right now? Do you think they are still alive?

Is Jessie female? If so why was Andy your only male friend?

Jessie, Jenny, Andy & Paula. Name 3 great memories you share with these people?

I fear no legal trouble from you-M

I only read my-diary so ask your questions there or here

what past friend do you have the best memories of?

how many computers have you owned in your life?

you wrote: But where and how can I ask you questions? I’d like to ask you some too, you know. Isn’t it only fair? Ask me in your journal. I’ll read it there and post the answers here.

What was the largest tip you got as a dancer?

Of all the friends you’ve ever had which one were you friends with the longest?

My favorite Band wrote a song about you.

Next time I have a bad day do ya mind if I take it out on you? It seems to inspire you to write better.

I don’t think you’ll get this many questions from all of us if we have to register. Trust me, I’ll NEVER register.

Also, if I harass you more are you gonna get scared like the last time and make it private?

Thanks to me your journal entries are longer and more interesting. Don’t you think I should harass you more?

It seems you’ve only had sex with women a handful of times in your life and almost the same with a man. Why? And how do you know you’re Gay?

From reading your journals I gathered that you haven’t slept with a woman since 1991. You claim to be Gay. Why did you marry a man?

Would you accept money from a man to eat you out? A woman?

I liked you once but I pity you now. Would you still want to be my bud?

Does Tom fart a lot more since he’s gained weight?

After I got my revenge on you, I suffered the next day from someone else’s abuse. Does that make you feel better?

Is it smart to eat a man’s jizz?

Do you ever feel like a misfit?

Do you prefer friends who are easy to get along with or who call you on your bullshit?

I bet you simulate sex with your mannequins cause you’re not getting any in real life, huh?

Yes it matters. What type of sex did your girlfriend have with the dog?

What type of sex did your friend have with the dog?

Has anyone you know ever had sex with a dog?

Being that you have an interest in Space, what planet most intrigues you and why?

Do you watch/enjoy porn?

What foreign Country frightens you the most?

Do you think it’s ok to date a Satan worshipper?

Don’t you think you deserved to go to jail to pay for all the people you harassed on the telephone throughout your teens, twenties and thirties? Karma is a bitch just like you buddy.

You love to blame other people for your troubles but did you ever stop to consider what part you played in the consequences?

It’s hard for Everyone to keep a schedule. Why do you use that as an excuse not to work in the real world? BTW all of us hate people.

Why did you avoid answering my two questions? Isn’t the theme of this thread “ask me ANYTHING?”

In your Journals, why are you not completely honest? Why do you spread false truths?

When you lived in Az. did you ever go to a concert at The Celebrity Theatre?

Why is your husband such a lazy bum who can’t get a job? I bet he doesn’t go out every day IN PERSON filling out applications.

Okay, those are the “questions.” I accidentally deleted a few other questions where they made cracks about Tom’s weight and work history as well as me looking fat in my photos.

I’ve narrowed it down to 5 possible “suspects” and have put names next to each question (not included here) as to who I think might ask each one. Some of these questions might be from a split chick named Molly. She started harassing a good cyber friend of mine (Alison) before we met, then she started trying to buddy up with Alison’s friends, including me. She did a Google search on Maliheh, so I warned her (and I still think it’s her) that she might hear from Molly. How do I know she did a Google search on her? That’s for me to know and you to wonder. :) The problem is I can’t block the bitch on Formspring without blocking out Maliheh or Andy or Jenny or whoever the fuck it is for sure.

Now, back down to business. I promised that once I go from fairly certain to definitely certain of the person’s identity I would not reveal their name unless they tell me it’s ok to. And they might. They seem to love being discussed in my journal. But for some reason, they’re obviously very much afraid of me. Like terrified. Why else would they be hiding like they have been so far? I’ve assured them no legal action will be taken against them and that I am harmless, but I guess they don’t believe that, LOL.

I will admit that while I love a good mystery to ponder, I am curious to verify their identity and I hope they’ll be brave enough to one day come out from behind the scenes.

When my friendship with Jenny C ended – yeah, you guessed it - I prank-called her and she pranked me back. But who should get caught? Well, me of course! But when I received the subpoena to appear in court I crumbled it up and tossed it in the trash. Then I came home one night and the guy who lived below me said that the cops had been there looking for me because someone called them saying I supposedly beat up an old lady named Mrs. Baker. Right away I knew it was her trying to flush me out for the default warrant out on me. We didn’t get our day in court, however, till I left Springfield and moved to Deerfield. In fact, it was my getting in trouble with Maliheh and this other company that ultimately forced me to have to go to court for her. The arresting officer was kind enough to ROR me instead of keeping me in jail all weekend, and I didn’t want to let him down by not showing up in court even though I knew they wouldn’t do anything, and they didn’t. So I guess Jenny might see that as “revenge,” but I doubt it. All I can say is this: if you are Jenny, remember how you asked if I still wanted to be your bud? Well, NO, I don’t! I don’t hate you or anything, but as you once said of me, you just weren’t a true friend. We never had much in common and I found you to be very selfish, insensitive and bossy. I wish you luck, but if by some chance “all of us” includes Jenny, we will NEVER be friends.

Of course, Andy’s refusing to forgive me for a tape I never had could also be considered revenge in his mind, but I’m still going with Maliheh.

But all this hate and anger the person harbors doesn’t seem to fit the crime. If it’s prank calls that have them so upset, why so much anger? And why all these years later? Had I kicked the crap out of them or ripped them off, then I could see all the hate and anger, but for phone calls? Maybe there’s more going on in their minds than I know.

I remembered a couple of other things about Maliheh. She kept screaming that I wouldn’t listen to her, but as far as I recall, she wouldn’t let me get a word in edgewise because she wouldn’t stop screaming at me. She was making a turkey one night too, and said she quit smoking. It was serious enough to be called at work by her doctor, she told me.

They did say I could ask questions here that they would answer on Formspring. So here goes my 20 questions! Well, it may not be quite that many.

If you won’t tell me your name, would you at least tell me your eye color?

What is your orientation?

What do you do for a living?

You said you liked me once. What did you like about me?

Do you want me to continue with the story you asked me to write?

Do you know any foreign languages?

Ok, so only 6 questions. Sorry I couldn’t come up with more to ask!

Anyway, this has been fun and all that, but it’s keeping me from my chapter deadline on my other story. My boss/teacher on the other side of the world wouldn’t appreciate that, LOL. So I’m off to finish chapter 16.

SATURDAY, JUNE 12, 2010 No Formspring abuse. IDK, maybe Maliheh’s been laid up in a hospital somewhere and hasn’t even been online for the last year. I doubt it, though. Whether or not it’s her who asked the “questions,” I’d say she at least got the email and Facebook messages that she knew I wouldn’t know that she got. With MySpace, though, I would know if she got the message. Yet it’s still marked as “unread.”

And today she’ll get one more email and a friend request on FB, LOL. Yeah, I know, I’m bad. I just had to send her a message claiming to have gotten an anonymous message on blogger from her apologizing for the past and the Formspring “questions,” and asking me to write a story with us as main characters, LOL. I “accept” her apology and apologized for calling her 19 years ago, even though it’s hard to be sorry for calling someone that went from sweet and sincere and kissy-kissy and talking about getting together the following Monday, to this mean, cold, rude bitch in less than a day. Still… there was just something about that girl.

I actually started a story too, LOL. Shall I send it to her if I finish it? LOL, I guess I’ll just have to wait and decide that if I do finish it!

Do I still think the questioner was Maliheh? Yeah, I do. I think she stopped once I started accusing her but hasn’t blocked me on Facebook because she wants to hopefully “get” me, just like a certain black bitch down in Arizona would probably love to. Ah, but I’m smart enough not to get carried away so I’m “getable.”

I must admit that a part of me is sorry they didn’t come back, whoever it truly was. Like I said, I love a good mystery and I wanted to hopefully learn for sure who they were at some point. But some of what they said was a little scary. Especially when they spoke of running out of money. Talk money and I get really nervous! I just worry about the checks. Then again, if they’re going to do anything serious, I doubt they’d warn me about it in print. It was stupid of me to delete some of those wonderful questions too, but some of them are still there.

Later…

“After I got my revenge on you, I suffered the next day from someone else’s abuse. Does that make you feel better?”

That was the last question on Formspring I received from who I still think is Maliheh. I mean, this pretty much stamps out Andy, Donna and Tom’s family because they never got “revenge” on us in any way. It pretty much rules out anyone associated with Valleyhead as well.

And it makes me wonder if perhaps I was wrong all these years in assuming God doesn’t take care of my perps.

They also said they once liked me, but now they pitied me. That would rule out Joely. Oh, believe me, she NEVER liked me. I was too Jewish to stand a chance on her “like” list.

But I didn’t think Maliheh ever liked me either simply because we never got a chance to know each other. All I know about her is that she was good-looking, she played the guitar, and she attended a sign language class with Kim.

If it’s Maliheh, I hope she’s reading this because if she is, I would like to say that oddly enough, no, it doesn’t make me feel better to know she suffered any kind of abuse. If her worst fault was being a rude mean bitch, then she certainly didn’t deserve whatever abuse befell her. Hell, I can be a rude mean bitch myself. Should I be abused for being a bit of a snot at times?

If God forbid the person is not Maliheh and is actually connected to those responsible for jailing me because of the city complaint, most people would probably say they wished you all the abuse and suffering in the world and that they could never forgive you. Well, I’m not going to say anything either way as to what I may wish for you. But I am sure that I could never forgive you. Or my sister. I know a lot of people are big on forgiveness (though I don’t know why since it seems that no one can forgive anyone for even sneezing on them), and that I’m wrong for it, but I can’t help how I feel and I don’t want to lie about it either.

There is fucking people over and then there is fucking people over. And some things are obviously easier to forgive, forget and move on from than others. What happened between Maliheh and me is nothing compared to the people in Arizona as well as my sister. So we made prank phone calls and said mean things to each other. It was wrong, it was stupid, it was immature, we both fucked up, we shouldn’t have done what we did, and while we may never fully agree as to what happened nearly two decades ago, I totally forgive you, Maliheh, and it would be nice if you did the same for me. You don’t have to, though. You’re not in any way obligated to forgive or like me, but for whatever it’s worth, I would invite you over for coffee or whatever right now. I mean it when I say I no longer have any hard feelings towards you and that I know what I did on my part was wrong. I still hope that you will contact me (other than on Formspring) and we can at least say hello every now and then, but if you would still prefer to remain behind the scenes that’s ok, too. You can even continue to hate my guts, but maybe we could compromise. Maybe you could accept the friend request but still remain in the shadows. That way I can know that yes, it was you sending the messages, but that we’re moving on. I don’t know what else I can offer you. If you want me to exclude you from now on from my online journal, I could do that for you, but you’d need to let me know.

Speaking of journals, I was reading back on the parts with Maliheh. Other than being a shitty writer back then, I was surprised I mentioned her being my height. Really? I remember her to be small, yes, but my height? She must’ve really been a hell of a hottie because I prefer tall women. Her image is fuzzy in my mind after all these years. I don’t even remember if she had bangs or not, though I think she did. I do remember enough to know she was hot as hell.

I’d forgotten that she first thought something was wrong with the phone lines too, when I first crossed her with others, but I’ll take my word for it, LOL.

Well, I don’t know how many times I can apologize for pranking her or for whatever else I may’ve done to piss her off, but I really am sorry and I don’t want her to suffer in any way.

Sometimes I wonder if I’ve got more than one person playing with me. Sorry, but not even a sarcastic, smart-ass bitch like myself could have that many enemies, though I suppose anything’s possible.

Anyway, if one of you is Maliheh, I forgive you for your part, will be your friend if you ever want me to and make the past up to you as best as I possibly can, and would probably STILL be drooling all over you if I saw you right now, and you and I both would probably still be hard-headed bitches at times, too. But just please – send me an email, accept my friend request or both, will you?

Last night I swear I heard a car door at 1am. At night sounds carry better, and the sound of a car door could easily come down the mountain from up at Jesse’s place, though I doubt they could be heard from other properties. Wow, is he really staying out that late?

I forgot to say that while we were out yesterday we stopped at a nearby Petco that recently opened up. Do they have any brown rats in California??? All I ever see here are whites and markings.

We saw these really cool lizards, and also these ball pythons and corn snakes. The python looked way cool, but I couldn’t see myself spending $80 on an animal that doesn’t do anything but look cool and that needs to live in a temperature-controlled climate.

Still don’t know what, if anything, we’re going to get when this rat dies. Another rat? A dog? Nothing?

Other than having 3 bouts of the runs and an ex-friend of Alison’s trying to buddy up to me on Formspring, all is fine. The weather’s gorgeous!

FRIDAY, JUNE 11, 2010 Here’s a good one for you. On Tom’s way home yesterday he returned with a box of Double Stuff Oreo cookies after picking up the mail. I asked where they came from and he said a letter had come in the mail saying that I had complained about not getting a coupon for these cookies in some kind of sign-up club online, and even though I didn’t qualify for the cookies for signing up for that particular club, there was a coupon anyway.

But I didn’t complain. I swear. Double Stuff Oreos aren’t worth complaining about. The original, maybe. Brownies, more likely. Lobster, you bet. But Double Stuff Oreos?

So let me get this straight – if I complain about whatever, I get nothing. If people imagine that I’ve complained, I get cookies? Not bad. Not bad at all.

I got a few amazingly intelligent questions on Formspring after resetting it to allow anonymous questions. One asked what country scared me the most and another asked what planet interested me most since I have an interest in space. Then someone else asked me if I was into porn. What was interesting about the country and space questions was the writing style. It was similar to the ones harassing me. They were well-written and well-spelled, and some nouns were capped as they are in the German language. Also, they couldn’t know I’m into space stuff without reading one of my journals/blogs. I don’t recall ever tweeting about space, and Formspring is a Twitter application. I doubt there’s a connection, though. Would the same person really go from asking if I realize I look fat in my photos to what planet interests me most?

Now that I’ve written in my journal that people can once again question me anonymously, it will be interesting to see if those unreasonable and stupid questions return and what new material they would like to supply me with. Of course that could be the whole idea; to get a place in my journal.

Anyway, we went out to Payless today in the dry and gorgeous nearly 90-degree heat, but it was a wasted trip. The selection was limited and they didn’t have what I wanted.

But then when we came home and I jumped online to look for a pair there, I found the perfect pair of 5” wedge sandals for $27 + free shipping right off the bat! Got them on eBay.

Woke up to questions from Marie which she’s asked a million times before, LOL. But I guess Marie just wouldn’t be being Marie if she wasn’t constantly saying and asking the same things.

Met an amazingly level-headed woman on one of the journal sites for being just 26 – well, for any age, but especially 26 – named Shanara. Her name is very unique and pretty. I might steal it for a future story but don’t worry, I won’t have her killed off (we were talking about how some things we’ve written about “coincidentally” happened afterward)!

Later…

I’m on “detective duty” now. I’m continuing to get a surprising amount of questions, mostly reasonable. But this one person first asked if I knew anyone that ever had sex with a dog. I said yes, but that I promised never to say who it was (it was Andy). Then they asked what type of sex my friend had with the dog. Well, how do they know it was a friend? And could this be Andy?

Anyway, whoever my stalker is is a night person, so it will be interesting to see if they read my journal and ask me some more intelligent questions as the night wears on. If I never hear from them again I’m going to be more convinced it was Maliheh harassing me. My MyOpera journal never got a hit from Tammy’s location, so I’d say she hasn’t been reading my journal lately and that she and her brood aren’t behind it. It could still be his family, Donna, Andy, or a Valleyhead staffer, but I’ll probably never know for sure.

THURSDAY, JUNE 10, 2010 I did some research and dug into Maliheh’s background a bit and found she’s lived in a number of states, including California. She appears to be an only child and lost her father back in 1994. She’s now 53.

I was unable to gain access to the criminal file I found on her but learned several other tidbits of information on this pathetic person I only met once – just once - who apparently still holds a grudge against me for “Dear Johning” her 19 years ago when she was 34 and I was 25. The “Dear John” letter was really an “I just want to be friends” speech I gave her. And I said it over the phone, not on paper. My intention was to let her know up front that while I was attracted to her, I wasn’t in the market for a relationship at the time with all I had going on with me, and so I just wanted to be friends. I didn’t want to lead the girl on, even though there were things I didn’t like about her and I doubted I’d want more than casual sex with her. In the end, we were never intimate in any way. She kept insisting her next partner was going to have to get tested for AIDS, but I felt that was a bit premature. The only intimacy shared between us was when she was all over me at the club we met at. Yeah, she was a bit tipsy the night we met in Northampton, MA the summer of 1991, LOL, though I admit I enjoyed her attention. She used to attend a sign language class with Kim, the girl who lived next to me at the time.

So we danced, we kissed, we talked, and then the next day she was very rude to me on the phone. I felt like I was talking to an entirely different person. We got onto the subject of guitars, something we both played at the time. I mentioned one of my strings breaking and she offered to pick me up a new string on her way over for the visit that never came to be. Then she got mad at me when I told her to hang on because I didn’t remember which string it was that broke.

Next she accused me of playing “20 Questions” and being persistent. I didn’t think I’d asked too much other than the normal getting-to-know-you kind of stuff, or that I had been persistent in any way, but she obviously thought I had been.

Her coldness and false assumptions and accusations really pissed me off. I started making prank phone calls to her. It was wrong. I don’t deny that. I got subpoenaed to appear in court and then she started pranking me in return, only she didn’t get caught. The courts didn’t do anything but slap me on the wrist, but I had to go through a whole lot of stress until they did.

Out of curiosity, I look up people I once knew that I both liked and disliked, something I’d be willing to bet the vast majority of us do from time to time. I found her first on Facebook. I was pretty sure it was her even though she was holding a cat in her picture that was partially blocking her face, coupled with the fact that she’d gained a lot of weight over the years. I said, what the hell, and so I sent a message. This was about two weeks ago. My journal link is on my profile page there. She obviously gathered information about me by reading it before she started badgering me on Formspring when I posted the link to it a few days ago in one of my entries.

I’m not going to get into how I figured out it was her. All the “ex-con in the unreal world” will say is that I hope she’s gotten me out of her system by now. We obviously don’t like each other, and although I didn’t want to, I contacted her one last time and asked that she please back off and just leave me alone. At first I would’ve been willing to hear her out if she’d quit cowering behind anonymity and being too gutless to face me directly, but now I don’t want to know she exists. Not directly, not indirectly. I only want her to just get back on with her life. She’s welcome to follow this journal, but I don’t want any more contact from her, and I won’t contact her again either. She has my word on that one.

In more important and better news, I really appreciate my loving hubby and friends for their support. As one friend said, I have the power of BLOG, and so if this fool wants to give me more info to put in it, then so be it (though I’d still prefer her to grow up and back off). Either way, I appreciate my two male cyberbuds. They are not only wonderful sounding boards, but they make me feel like they’re looking out for me, and it’s nice to know they care. I value and appreciate their feedback, opinions and suggestions.

As for Marie…she still rocks my world! And while my husband and journal may be enough of a “bitching outlet,” it’s still nice to know I can share my troubles and annoyances with her, too. She has a heart of gold, something that can’t be found in too many people.

Later…

Ended up getting up later than expected thanks to it getting so cold in here early this morning. Every time I think we’re done with cold mornings, one sneaks up on me. I woke up shivering at 7:30, just a few hours after I crashed, and saw that it was down to just 57º in the bedroom. Tom was already up. So I threw my robe on and drifted back off to sleep about an hour later and didn’t get up until 2:00. I was surprised I slept so late. Of course by then it was 79º in here. Overall it has been unusually cool, once again. We had to open windows for a while but didn’t need the cooler.

One of my buddies fondly let me know I’ve been blogging too much and should focus on my book, LOL, and I am. I am. My chapter-a-week goal has been coming along nicely so far. I’m on chapter 16 and up to 44,000 words. I don’t know how many chapters I’ll have, but I’m guessing around 30. So Digital Confessions should be “released” in September or October, cuz remember, once it’s done I still have to proofread it and try to catch any typos and discrepancies.

Nonetheless, I wasn’t kidding when I told those who are automatically emailed my posts to let me know if it gets to be too much. It wouldn’t hurt my feelings if they ask for their emails to be pulled out because I know that anytime they want to know what’s going on with me they can either email me or go directly to any of the sites I write at.

Marie and I chatted briefly. She’s kind of stressed out now with roommate troubles. So she’s looking to move out and find someone who wants a roommate. I let her know she could email me anytime she needs to vent. Hey, I do it to her! It may not do much for her to know it, but if I were single and living near her (or she near me) I’d take her in without hesitation even if she may get to be a bit much for me at times and I had to chase her around with a whip periodically to keep her in line. :)

Before learning the identity of my little interviewer, someone suggested whoever was asking me those “questions” on Formspring was perhaps a complete stranger. I always disagreed. Judging by the type of “questions” and overall tone, I doubted it was a stranger. I figured it was probably someone I hadn’t seen or spoken to in a million years. But there was a degree of emotion behind their “questions” that pretty much told me it was no stranger.

Another part that won’t go online: I went into the privacy settings on Formspring to allow anonymous questions again, only I didn’t say so in my last post. I want to see if they’re checking up on me. Not long afterward I got an anonymous question asking: What foreign Country scares you the most? I answered with: Probably one of the Middle Eastern countries.

Look at the way they capitalized the C in “country.” I noticed that with my troublemaker’s questions. They often cap the first letters in nouns like Germans do.

But is it really Maliheh? She hasn’t logged into her Twitter or MySpace account in a year, though I can’t say when she was last in her Facebook account. They don’t show the last logins. If she hasn’t been in any of these accounts and no longer uses the email address I found for her, then she wouldn’t know I sent her anything unless she really is reading my journal.

But maybe she hasn’t logged in on MySpace because she knows the messages are from me. I told her in the email I had tried to contact her on other sites.

And here’s something else that’s weird. Why hasn’t she blocked me on any of these sites, and why did the name change on the Twitter account? When I first looked her up on Twitter I found one nameless account with 1 tweet. Today the name Joni M Something was added to the s/n. So again I searched for her name. I got a different account with her name on it this time around. I swear these things weren’t there before. And she’s following the account I first tweeted to. She has no tweets in this seemingly new account, though. and I don’t know just how new it really is since she’s got 8 followers.

Whether she’s the one harassing me or not, I’d say that yeah, she probably did get at least one of my messages.

Now back to the noun capper. Could it be the same person? Hmm… if it is, why would they suddenly ask a reasonable question? If it’s her, is it her way of “defying” my commands to leave me alone? By asking a normal question she gets to defy this order, in a sense, because then I don’t supposedly know it’s her communicating with me and that she’s not complying with my telling her to leave me alone.

Well, like I said, I love a good mystery, but I sure am curious! I’ll be around to see if they strike tonight if they’re bothering to check my privacy settings regularly or if they contact me elsewhere.

In tomorrow’s entry, I’ll mention that I’m allowing anonymous comments again, and see if they ask me yet more “questions” giving me clues as to who they are. Just as long as they don’t fuck with the unemployment till it either runs out or he gets a job!

I was just going to comment on how much quieter the dogs have been, but they’re going off right now. Where would Jesse be at this time on a weeknight? I bet they’re still going off early in the mornings, but I haven’t been up then recently.

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 9, 2010 Someone asked what I do for work. Then jokingly added, “in the real world.”

Well, in the real world, I started off with housekeeping and babysitting. Then shifted to singing and dancing. Then ended up entering contests/sweepstakes, and right now I’m mostly an artificial intelligence worker. I say “mostly” because I do a few other things, but I’m not at liberty to discuss that in public.

I was also asked about my anonymous “interviewer.” I was sure it was one of my sisters-in-law in Arizona, but Tom insists I’m wrong. I’ve gotten all kinds of suggestions from Valleyhead staffers to Jenny, someone I was once friends with back east. Even Joely’s cop friend was suggested. Well, until I find out who they are, I’d really like it if they would send me a private message on any of the social sites or blog sites I use so we can discuss what’s bothering them in private. As I said on Formspring, I will keep their identity confidential if they could muster up the guts to confront me head-on and stop hiding in the shadows. They obviously feel I have betrayed them somehow. I am a very open-minded individual and very willing to hear whatever it is they may have to say if they’d simply reach out and contact me. I don’t understand what they’re afraid of. They’ve got my word in print that I won’t mention their name. If you are connected to the family in some way, I won’t even mention you to Tom, if that’s a concern of yours. Who you are doesn’t matter. What you’re feeling matters, and it seems to me you’re awfully angry. So let’s talk. :) I’m a good listener.

I will be available to pick up messages tomorrow around noon PT.

Later…

Maliheh, Andy, Marla, Donna, someone connected to Valleyhead, cousins, other family, corrupt cops, ex-perps - whoever you are - I’m not running. And that’s obviously what you’re trying to get me to do is shut down my blogs and then go run and hide.

And you’re obviously not going to have the guts to expose yourself and since you’re pathetic “questions” quickly got boring, I can no longer be asked questions anonymously on Formspring. What a bummer, huh?

But to answer your last round of dumb-ass questions, you cowardly wimp who’s obviously terrified I’ll come and kick your ass if I know who you are, yes, I realize I look fat in my photos, as you asked. I’m just your all-American fatty, and you know what? I’m gonna stay that way! Why? Because I love to eat, that’s why. So don’t expect any skinny photos from me anytime soon. I’m 128 big fat pounds. :)

“I hear you want a dog. How are u gonna feed the mutt when u run out of money and commit suicide?”

I make enough to keep things afloat with my online job. So if I keep working, why would the money “run out?” We’re not on unemployment anymore, if that’s what you mean. That ended just last week. I thought we were going to be eligible for the last tier, but nope. Didn’t quite qualify. But that’s ok. Tom got a call this afternoon and was hired at a manufacturing company, so you need not worry anymore about him being “too lazy” to look for jobs offline as opposed to online, since this was obviously a big concern of yours. That’s all I will say about his job. I will not say where it is, what shift he’s on, or even what his pay is.

To finish answering that last fucktarded question, it’d take a hell of a lot more than money to get me to off myself, pal. Don’t be fooled by all the times I say, “I’ll kill myself if this happens or if that happens.” Like some people, I could get a headache and that’d be enough to get me threatening suicide. But if I ever do it will be my choice and only if I’m ready to go and leave a world that’s so unfortunately overrun with lonely, bored sickos like yourself.

“What if I knew where you lived and I came over with a knife?”

If you knew where I lived, you’d have come for me by now. That is unless you don’t have the balls to.

Meanwhile, until you can stop hiding behind anonymity, I’m no longer going to waste my time communicating with you. I was willing to talk in private about whatever’s got you so ticked off, but you’re just too chicken shit to do that, so until you get a little more brass where it counts, I’m not going to bother with you.

Someone did a Google search for me but spelled my name wrong. Besides, I don’t know anyone in Perth, Australia which is where the search originated from.

You can rate Marie’s story. I swear I added a note that I was posting it for a friend, but they didn’t include it for some reason. Anyway, I did not write this story. I simply edited it.

Later…

Tom’s getting ready to head out and I’m stuffing my face with these totally delicious Grissini breadsticks. You should try ‘em sometime. Add a few more inches to your waistline right along with me. :)

Anyway, once all settles down in Crackpotland I will re-allow anonymous contact on Formspring. For now, I have to wonder why some people would lower themselves so much that they would allow their own selves to associate with such fat criminals like myself with fat, lazy husbands who are poor and almost certainly always will be. I know I wouldn’t want to bother associating with some fat crazy bitch who was 15 pounds overweight, worked online where there is no “real” world, and stuffed herself with Grissini breadsticks. I mean, shame on her! You’d think that at age 44 she’d get a fucking life! Maybe she just needs to commit suicide. :)

Marie, Paul and Dorian are their usual supportive and wonderful selves. Marie said, “15 pounds overweight? More of you to love, and the perve here in NY also says more ounce for the bounce.”

Yeah, she would say that too, LOL!

Paul said it was good of me to twist their intentions, pointing out that I have the power of BLOG and that they’re just giving me more material for it.

Dorian got a kick out of the breadstick-eating, ex-con in the unreal world thing.

Later…

Wow, it was 18 years ago today that I left New England.

Just thought I’d do some reflecting. The kind that won’t go online. All’s been quiet in Crackpotland. It will be interesting to see if they come at me through any of the journal sites. If they have any brains at all, they’ll figure out that there are a couple of other ways they could contact me anonymously.

I’ve narrowed my guesses down to Andy, Donna or Maliheh, my top guess being Maliheh. I can’t believe Andy would say, “Don’t you think you deserved to go to jail for those you harassed on the telephone?” when he was guilty of the same thing, and I also doubt he would say that I love to blame others for my troubles without thinking of the part I played in the consequences. The only strange thing is her picking on Tom, but I guess it’s not that strange when you really think about it. When you want to take jabs at someone, the best way is not only to swing directly but to swing at something/someone they care about as well. As Dorian said, maybe they’re bothered by Tom’s not working, but maybe not. Maybe it’s only relevant to them because it’s an issue in my life right now. And as he also pointed out, these crackpots will pick on anything, even misspellings and typos.

Andy would spell as well or even better, but like I said, it doesn’t seem like the kinds of things he’d say, and I did contact Maliheh before revamping the online journal. She’d have had two weeks to comb through it. I just didn’t think she’d be that interested.

Do I think Maliheh would do such a thing? Yeah, I do. After all, as soon as I was busted for calling her, she started calling me.

As for Donna, unless she’s brushed up on her writing, she could never write that well.

Tom adamantly insists it’s not Miss Perfect or Evie. They would probably write well, and I can see them asking some of the questions, but not the ones about the dog and suicide. Or the comment about me looking fat in my photos.

I just worry about them fucking with the unemployment, whoever they are. I can’t stop the unemployment from running out sooner than he’s hired somewhere if God thinks that’s all we deserve and are good for, but someone else sure could hassle us along the way if they got it in mind to do so.

And while it’s super-duper unlikely, like incredibly unlikely, there’s always the possibility it’s someone who does a fine job of seeming like a damn good friend.

Like Paul.

Like Dorian.

And even like Marie.

Marie would just have to deliberately go out of her way to write differently than she normally does to throw me off.

Nah, it’s Maliheh. My gut now says it’s almost certainly her. I’m getting more and more sure of it. Especially with the phone thing she mentioned. She didn’t know me when the black bitch screwed me. So wouldn’t it be more reasonable to mention the trouble the person got in when you knew them and when you had a hand in influencing it to happen? Well, I sure thought so after reflecting on it long enough. Enough to send her a quick warning on Facebook not to contact me again before I blocked her.

Could it be Ann Marie? Again, anything’s possible, but she seems unlikely. Until and if anything else happens to say otherwise, I’m going with Maliheh. The person was up late too, when they left the “questions,” and I remember her saying she wasn’t a morning person. The only thing that doesn’t make sense about the phone thing is the teens and 30s thing. How could she know I made prank calls in my teens, and why does she assume I did it in my 30s? That would be something a Valleyhead staffer might say, but nah, I don’t think it’s a VH connection.

Marla? Hmm… she might say most of what was said, and she’s pretty literate herself from what I remember, but right now it seems so much more of a Maliheh thing. Especially since I just contacted her not too long ago and was sure to leave my journal link.

Online enemies I’ve made such as at Kiwibox? I doubt it. It’s been so long, and again, why mention the calls when I went down for supposedly doing a lot more than that? And that was 10 years ago, not 20.

My sister and her mistakes could never write this well, and the “I hear you want a dog” part just isn’t them. And when they did rehash the past, it was about the neighbors, not the prank calls. It would only be natural to bring up the last thing that happened.

Hey, I just got a funny and interesting idea. Why not post that she “confessed?” That’d really kill her if I’m right, and she was such a fucking asshole anyway, so why not, right?

Maybe I’ll compromise with myself and just say that I know it’s her rather than that she confessed. Maybe this will flush her out if it is her.

Is it??? I love a good mystery to ponder, but I’d really like to know who it is! If they’re going to do anything else once they see they can’t hit me anonymously on Formspring, it should be within the next hour or two.

Later…

Well, Maliheh got my message on Facebook because she went and blocked me in return. I figured as much. Now that she can’t get at me on Formspring, she’ll have to go through other means.

Wait! No, she didn’t block me. I can still bring her page up when I search her name. Hmm… maybe she’s trying to “trap” me.

I dug a little deeper into Maliheh and found her accounts on MySpace and Twitter where I blocked her like I did on Facebook, though she hasn’t been on MySpace, and has only made one tweet on Twitter which was also a year ago. I also doubt she’d have the guts to contact me non-anonymously, but I blocked her nonetheless.

TUESDAY, JUNE 8, 2010 “Why is your husband such a lazy bum who can’t get a job? I bet he doesn’t go out every day IN PERSON filling out applications.”

This is the question I received yesterday on Formspring – completely anonymous of course - from what I’d be willing to bet not everything, but almost everything is connected to my sister or her associates. They’d be my first guess anyway. Guess number two – my ex-perps in Arizona. Guess number 3, Tom’s family, though that doesn’t seem like their style at all. To be selfish, and even a bit on the rude side, yes, but vindictive?

Hmm… wonder why they feel so sure they can “bet” he doesn’t go out daily to fill out applications in person? I mean, why do they assume he doesn’t?

It’s almost certainly someone who’s kept close tabs on my life/journal for a considerable amount of time now, and Tammy’s the only one I can think of who would do such a thing out of those who just can’t seem to get enough of me and my amazing life. If the reverse-discriminating freeloaders wanted to harass me, this doesn’t seem like the way they’d go about it. They would attack me personally, not Tom. Remember, I’m the Jew here, not him. And I still don’t know that they’re even aware of my journal.

Then again – and I fully acknowledge this possibility – it could be a total stranger I don’t even know exists. Maybe Tammy has absolutely nothing to do with it and she doesn’t even read this journal, doesn’t want a thing to do with me, doesn’t want to know I exist, and is keeping her word to my parents as far as leaving me the hell alone. Maybe she got that sick of me after cyberstalking, harassing and threatening me last summer, and she just can’t stand to even take a chance of reading what I may have to say about her hence it cracks her fragile little eggshell-like feelings and be more than she could handle.

Maybe it’s my brother. Maybe it’s his daughter. Maybe it’s his wife. Hell, maybe it’s my fucking landlord or his sister! Maybe it’s Ellen Degeneres. Maybe it’s Obama. Maybe it’s the spirit of Adolf Hitler.

I doubt it, though.

Regardless of whoever the hell it is, I did answer their “question” and let them know that I would discuss it in this entry.

So here goes. Any idiot should know that what’s in person is also online. This isn’t the 80s. Almost no one has “hiring” signs in person only these days. They do in-person and online or just online only. But rarely does anyone do it in person only in a day and age when computers are so much a part of life. So to really, really answer their “question,” why waste time and gas going to places in person when you can just apply online? Besides, if there were that many people hiring around here – enough to go to every day – wouldn’t it be safe to say he’d already have a job?

Speaking of jobs in hard-hit Cali, he did get called in for an interview at a temp agency yesterday. The temp agency was in Sacramento, a city we haven’t been in for years and do not miss, but the job is for a night administrator in Auburn who pays $10. With me working online, even minimum wage would be fine. It would be plenty enough to live on and that’s what counts. Anything else after that is just a bonus. Anyway, although they asked if he would be willing to go in at 5pm if they called him, they never did call. This is a position women typically get, so that may be an issue. Also, most of his job experience is within middle to upper management and because he has made good money most of his working years, companies may be hesitant to hire someone they feel may expect too much.

Nonetheless, I have not contacted my sister since replying to her when she first contacted me in January of 2009, nor have I contacted her kids since August of 2009 when I stupidly said hello to Sarah and replied to a couple of Lisa’s messages. I am going to continue to ignore them and hope they do the same with me. They have expressed a deep hatred for me and my husband, so why they would want to bother with someone they’re supposed to loathe in the first place is beyond me. I hope they will have enough self-respect not to bother with those who don’t want to bother with them.

This part won’t go online, but I’m setting up a little trap of sorts tomorrow. I’m going to mention in the entry that she should go see what I have “hidden” in my photos on MyOpera. There’s nothing really hidden there, but if it’s her, she’s going to be curious enough to check my journal to see if I mention her “question” and then be curious to follow the link, thus appearing on the visitor’s map.

The only thing that points away from the drama queen and the brood is the proper spelling, punctuation and use of caps. Not something they’re usually good at. But that also may’ve been done to throw me off. After all, her letter of complaint to her city councilman was fairly proper.

More than likely she was curious to see if I’d mention talking to mom on her birthday and if we discussed her, and so she read the entry for that day. Then she saw that crack I made about daring to defend her which prompted the Formspring insult which prompted me to give her a lousy review. Yeah, she was listed at a business site, LOL, that lets people review them (she sells Avon products). So I gave her a lousy rating/review and she shut down her account. Aw, too bad, huh? If I was less than 80% sure she was behind the “question” I wouldn’t have done it. It’s nothing compared to getting someone thrown in jail, indirectly or not, but it was still nice to “fight back” and do something. I just hope God will protect me for that little stunt the same as He has protected those who have burned me really badly.

Later…

Still don’t know the identity of my latest cyberbully, but now I’m guessing it could very well be my sister-in-law Evie. Yes, Evie. It may’ve been easy to say I don’t think she’d do such a thing, but how well did I really know her? The reason I’m suspecting her (if it isn’t tied in with the freeloaders or Andy) is that it not only comes after contacting her but because of the additional questions I was asked and the way they’re spelled. There were a couple of spelling errors, but otherwise the spelling, grammar and use of caps are pretty good.

My MyOpera journal also got a hit from Tempe, AZ.

“Why don’t you have the guts to identify yourself?” I asked them. Here’s what they asked me:

“Don’t you think you deserved to go to jail to pay for all the people you harassed on the telephone throughout your teens, twenties and thirties? Karma is a bitch just like you buddy.”

“You love to blame other people for your troubles but did you ever stop to consider what part you played in your consequences?”

“It’s hard for Everyone to keep a schedule. Why do you use that as an excuse not to work in the real world? BTW all of us hate people.”

“Why did you avoid answering my two questions? Isn’t the theme of this thread “ask me ANYTHING?””

“In your Journals, why are you not completly honest? Why do you spread false truths?”

“When you lived in Az. did you ever go to a concert at The Celebrity Theatre?”

What about Andy’s sister Marla? Hmm… would she ask me these things? Gosh, I just don’t know. And some of these questions don’t seem right for Evie, like the first one about Tom being a lazy bum. The concert is the most confusing one of all. It seems so out of place. What does it have to do with everything else they’ve been asking me?

Later…

Some guy on Thoughts said he didn’t see how I could call the “questions” I was getting on Formspring cyberbullying when I said, after all, that people could ask me anything, even anonymously. Well, he does have a point there, but as I told him, he doesn’t exactly see the big picture because he doesn’t know the situation.

To answer the latest round of “questions,” no I never saw a concert at The Celebrity Theater, and I don’t know why they think I went to jail for prank phone calls. That’s not even jailable, though I did go to court. This was back east. And my 30s? They got the teens and 20s right, but after racking my brains thinking about it, I’m pretty sure I never made any calls in my 30s. The last prank I remember making was with Andy shortly after moving in with Tom. I was 27 at the time.

Yes, I have considered the parts I played in various situations. I am no more perfect than anyone else who has made their share of mistakes. I have no problem admitting and accepting blame for the things I am truly guilty of, like making prank phone calls. But sometimes people really do get shit on without the slightest bit of provocation. They really do. Sadly, though, we do live in a world that thinks that everybody asks for everything they get.

Lastly, there is no “real world” that I know of, and what “false truths” am I supposedly spreading around? They’ll have to let me know.

I was chatting with one of my cyber pals and was thinking about how people have complained that he’s too anonymous and won’t say where he lives, what he does, what his name is, etc. As I told him, though, it’s your right to say or not to say what you want about yourself, and besides, I personally wouldn’t care what you did for a living. To me he’s been a damn good cyber friend, so he could pick his nose or kill people for a living for all I care, LOL.

I really admire Marie’s efforts to better herself. She’s not proud of the way she’s handled relationships and drinking in the past, but hey, we all make mistakes. It’s how well we recognize and move on from those mistakes that count.

Eileen has been busy, but let me know I’m in her thoughts.

Saveonscents, the place I get my perfume roll-ons from, tweeted that they’re going to be making a particular fragrance I’ve been wanting for a while now (Black Orchid), and they’re following me now, too. I let them know I was psyched to learn that it’s in production, and Elliot said he’d make sure I got a sample to test for accuracy. He rocks!

Anyway, other possibilities have crossed my mind as to who could be asking these lovely “questions.” There’s Donna, there’s Maliheh, and even Ellen M is a possibility. Her parents owned Valleyhead, something I didn’t have nice things to say about. It could be anyone, but right now I’m going with family or the black bitch. It’s obviously someone I’ve written extensively enough about. Like Miss Perfect. If she didn’t already know about the journal, then Evie certainly told her about it. And if she bothered to read it, the part about her selfish mother would have pissed her off.

Still no one from CT visiting me on MyOpera. Although I know I shouldn’t, I feel a tinge of guilt for leaving the drama queen the bad review if she’s not behind the “questions.” I hope she doesn’t suspect me because then she’ll make trouble for me somehow. And of course she’ll drag Mom and Dad into it.

MONDAY, JUNE 7, 2010 Forgot all about my Formspring account till a fellow tweeter reminded me of it.

So I spoke to my folks yesterday and wished Mom a happy 78th birthday. I called at around 10am their time and left a message, figuring they were at the store. Then I called later, got their machine again and hung up. I finally caught them around 4pm their time. They sounded well, and we talked about the usual things. It was a whopping 105º there and Mom was glad to hear about the extra money I’m making at the job site and how much it helps keep our heads above water.

They asked if there was an IHOP around here, and yes, there are a few in Sacramento and one in Roseville. They have a gift card they want to send. I assume it may be an anniversary present since our 16th anniversary is on the 15th.

When I asked about Charlotte, the reaction was a little weird, suggesting they may no longer be friends, but didn’t want to get into what may’ve been a painful fallout. I didn’t push it, though. I don’t like to make people talk about things they’d rather not talk about.

When I asked how she was Dad said he didn’t know and that Mom talked to her more. But wouldn’t Mom keep him updated? When I asked if she still had the cottage in Connecticut, he said he didn’t know. That pretty much told me something right there, so I dropped it. It’s too bad, too. They were such good friends for so long. But things do change. Tammy and I were kind of close despite being opposites, then look what happened. How dare I give her abusive ex a piece of my mind! Well, at least it taught me never to defend anyone.

I briefly chatted on Facebook with Jessie and am still thinking of shutting down on MySpace, but haven’t decided yet. I’m getting hit on and harassed by both men and women. Half the people that friend me want me to buy something from them.

Marie and I still swap messages, of course, and it was sweet of her to let me know I could go to her with anything. Yeah, but if I want to bitch about the economy, I remember when she snapped at me by saying I had a roof over my head and food in my stomach yet still wasn’t happy. So I don’t want to come off as ungrateful or anything like that. It’s not that I fail to keep in mind the good things in life. It’s just that sometimes I only want to bitch about the bad things. No matter how much I may complain, though, it doesn’t mean I don’t still appreciate the good things.

SUNDAY, JUNE 6, 2010 As I’ve been trying to do for over a year now, I’m trying to keep a positive, hopeful attitude about surviving this economic crisis, but as far as I can see, our fate is still basically going to come down to a toss of a coin. We’re going to either sink or swim. Tom’s oh so sure we’ll swim, but until I see any real change, I have no reason to believe we won’t be sinking in just a few months.

Maybe that’s why I haven’t been dieting or exercising too seriously and am now up to 130 pounds. I just don’t want to end up working so hard for nothing. If our days are truly numbered, why deprive myself of the good things I can still have in the meantime? And I do like to eat, LOL. I have been both stuck and retaining water, so that could be a factor in why my weight is up as well. All I know is that if we’re at the end of our rope here, my weight is the last thing I want to be worrying about.

While many wonderful things have happened to us since moving to California, it’s been such a bust at the same time. First something up there didn’t want us to have a home. Now it doesn’t want us to have money. And soon it may not want us to have either which would basically mean that it didn’t want us to have a life.

Some have said God’s testing us. Well, if that’s true then we’re obviously not doing a very good job of passing since He won’t allow us to move on. What, am I not a good enough poor-ass bum or something? Have I just not gotten “good enough” at living poorly and accepting the fact that we’ll always be poor? Is that what it’s all about? Are we not going to be allowed to get on with our lives until I stop bitching about how broke we usually are? And when I say “broke” I don’t mean that we’re starving or having any kind of a crisis at the moment. I just mean that we don’t have much extra money. We’ve only got so much we can save, though I suppose a part of that is our fault because we still tend to shop more than we should. I’m not nearly as bad as I used to be, but we just spent a couple hundred on shit we don’t absolutely have to have and next week I’ll be buying myself new shoes that I also don’t need, but would like to have since I’ve been wearing the same few pairs of shoes for years. Shoes were never a high priority for me, but now I think it would be nice to finally have a new pair unlike anything else I have which basically only consists of two pairs of sneakers, a pair of flat sandals, and a pair of flat pink canvas shoes my folks sent centuries ago. Still, if this is about me being frustrated with us being held back like this month after month, then I’m sorry I’m not a “good enough” bum. I’ll be a better bum, God, and try to accept this cruel and unfair fate in which you’re so obviously determined to sic upon us no matter how much we may not deserve it and are willing to try to get ahead in life. Really, I’ll be a good little bum and quit complaining about being forever cramped in someone else’s old trailer with no more than 500 square feet of space, and no opportunity to get ahead in life. Will you care about us then?

I rearranged the bedroom a little, but being what can’t be more than a 10x10 room, the possibilities aren’t exactly endless. I simply swapped the dresser and the mannequin. This way I can now walk right up to the dresser.

I can see where this mannequin would freak out anyone who’s spooked by realistic-looking dolls. I myself still can’t believe how realistic-looking this thing is! She looks like she’s going to start moving any second and step out of the corner she’s in. A lot of the older mannequins have dead-looking, even cartoonish eyes, but not this one. Her eyes look wet like real eyes and incredibly realistic. Same with the eyelashes and the rest of her face. When you look into her face you almost expect her eyes to shift into focus on your own and for her lips to part and for her to say something. Yet I was never one to find such realistic dolls creepy. As a kid, I’m sure I would have, but instead of being spooked when I look at her, I just see a very lovely mannequin that looks very lifelike.

I re-read Marie’s sex clip and it hit me that she never got off. Does anyone ever want to have sex with me and not just for me? Well, other than Ron, Al Casey and Brenda.

Well, it’s 4am and 80º in here. I think I’ll crack a window and go take my shower. Then when the sun comes up I’ll go out for a run if only to keep my joints from acting up. Better do my ab crunches to keep my back in shape, too.

SATURDAY, JUNE 5, 2010 Tom ran into Maryann as he was going out yesterday, saying he thought that maybe Jesse was out of town. I doubted this because then the dogs would be going off all through the night. Sure enough, just minutes later, Jesse came down in the truck to fetch a wheelbarrow from his shit pile. I thought he would be obnoxious and start with the engine gunning, but instead he took off on the motorcycle not long afterward.

I edited and submitted a short clip Marie wrote for the erotica site. She did a better job than I expected. She asked me to submit it under my pen name since I’m already known there.

Wish I had more to say, but that’s really all that’s going on other than that Tom woke up with an upset stomach for eating too many of the mashed potatoes I made yesterday. He took some Rolaids and went back to sleep.

As for me – I’m just going to enjoy the peaceful wee hours of the night, then go out running when there’s enough light out.

FRIDAY, JUNE 4, 2010 So I set up house at MyOpera, another cool blogging site, for this blogaholic to have fun at. Seriously, I’m totally addicted to blogging! I love the various features all the different sites have to offer, though I’m pretty much posting the same things at all the sites.

What’s cool about MyOpera, which is where I got yesterday’s Fast Facts from, is the stats it gives you. It has a world map on which dots are placed to represent areas that have accessed your page. I’ve gotten a surprising 369 views so far. I’m amazed no one’s contacted me, but that’s ok. I hate it when people get carried away with the email. I still have to work and do other things, and if I take too much time out to answer emails, I’ll never get anything done. Anyway, they seem to really like me in Europe and southern Asia, LOL. It tells me unique visitors from repeat visitors, along with their city, state, country, IP, and the time and date of their visit.

Toward the right of the screen, it also shuffles through photos as they view your page, and yes, those creepy dolls are in the mix, just to warn you, LOL! But there are also plenty of people and pet pics, too.

There is a work section in the About Me section that other sites don’t have which I wrote: I have done a variety of things on and off throughout my life starting with housekeeping and babysitting, then moving on to singing and dancing, then finally to writing, entering sweepstakes/contests, and artificial intelligence work.

You can set it up so that the first thing people see is either your blog, your blog archive, your About Me section, or your photo albums.

I don’t expect anyone I know to sign up and use this site unless they really want to but do feel free to check out my profile, pics and blog over there.

Why do so many bands friend me on MySpace and why has that site turned into such a pervert’s haven? I might shut down my account there. I only opened one in the first place to enter contests.

I inserted a username poll on Thoughts, but am unable to see the results. The very kind people there checked into the matter for me and were able to duplicate the error themselves to see what I was talking about since they could see the results while I couldn’t. I hope that Marie, if she gets the chance, can check the poll and tell me the results.

Speaking of Marie, she has written her own juicy story for the erotica site that she wants me to edit for her, but I was unable to open the attachment she sent me. So she’ll get it from Word when she gets home and drops it into the body of an email which is how I prefer to get documents anyway. It’s easier than having to open files.

Left another voice post on LJ yesterday after accidentally deleting one when disabling the auto-transcriber since the thing often fucks up. Besides, if I wanted it written out I would just write it and not speak it. I have 3 more posts for this month. When will I make them? You’ll just have to be surprised!

So right now I’m blogging at 5 sites: MD, LJ, Thoughts, Opera and Blogger.

Got my first wrong number on my new phone yesterday. I checked the area code. It was from North Carolina. The first time they asked for so and so, then they called back twice more and didn’t say anything.

THURSDAY, JUNE 3, 2010 Someone let me know that Tammy’s been complaining about her town officials, and as I told them, I really don’t give a damn. What’s going on in her town is her business and problem, not mine. Guess they’re setting up house for perverts that she feels is too close for comfort. She’s also in trouble again, but that’s for her to deal with. I stopped them before they could go on to explain the details to me because I simply don’t care.

My mom will be 78 on the 6th and I should be on days enough by then to call her. Only problem is the 6th is a Sunday and she may be at her store at the flea market. If so I’ll just leave a message.

Going out next week hunting for those wedge sandals I’ve been wanting. :) The higher the heel the better. I may be thinner, but I ain’t taller, LOL.

My brain says, “Work out, you lazy bitch.” My body says, “Screw you. Leave me alone. Just let me sit here in my nice comfy chair and leave me alone.”

I know I better get my brain in charge one of these days soon enough, though, if I don’t want to gain back all the weight I slaved so hard to get off.

For the last two days, I had this persistent hunger that just wouldn’t quit no matter what I ate. I was even woken up by hunger pangs. I can’t for the life of me begin to figure out what causes them, but there is a definite connection between hunger and weight loss. After days when I’m so hungry that nothing fills me up, I tend to be down a pound or two the next day.

Fast facts about me:

At the movies I like to see: Horror, suspense, thrillers Last movie seen: Coffy Music I listen to: All kinds, mostly 70s Best album right now: Not sure Favorite author: Dean Koontz Last book read: Can’t remember Best game right now: Mah Jong Favorite sports team: Don’t have one I’m passionate about: Equality and free speech I wish I could: Get rich Favorite travel destination: Anyplace warm On my vacation I: Like to shop, eat and relax If I won 1 million dollars, I would: Buy a house If I were a superhero I would: Fly Fashion I rather not see again: Bell Bottoms My worst purchase ever: Too many to list I want my coffee: With milk and sugar Food I like: Seafood and Chinese I don’t like: Reverse discrimination and gay-bashing Software I use: Whatever works best Hardware I use: Whatever I need to use

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 2, 2010 There was a pair of panties waiting for me at the mail place which is nice. Hey, I love free stuff. But where did they come from? Did I win them or did they come from the free sample site? It’s got to have been one of those since I highly doubt any aliens sent them to me. I searched “Warner’s Challenge” on the sweeps site and came up empty in both the current and expired sweeps section. No matches at the same site either, but I guess it’s a win because you don’t usually “sample” panties, LOL.

Marie left a voice post of her own. I was surprised because she had said she changed plans and no longer had free long distance. She sounded great, though, and did a fine job with the Spanish sentence she spoke. I still haven’t used any of my 5 posts for June. I will when I get in the mood to say something.

Nothing from Ann Marie, who hasn’t been on MySpace since 5/29. I went and made sure I didn’t say anything about her in any of my blogs that may offend her on the off chance she actually checks them out (like how I wouldn’t be attracted to her today, and how she seemed bothered by my lack of a car/job back when I knew her), and had to laugh to myself when I described her as oh so good in bed. Why? Because she made me cum? I’m sorry, but she was horrible in bed! Yeah, she made me cum and those 20 seconds were fun, but it was the same thing with Tom where she didn’t participate. We had sex for me and not for us. The whole idea from start to finish was for her to get me off, and that would be ok every now and then, but seeing how that’s the way it was both times we got together, I’m not sure that qualifies as “good in bed.”

Nickolena changed her profile picture to one of just herself standing outside what was probably her house. All I saw was a brick wall and a lovely bed of colorful flowers bordering it. She was dressed in all black with red heels and lipstick. She had her hands on her hips and her hair dyed brown. Not only has she turned out to be a gorgeous kid from what I can see, but another round of doubt has been cast upon me as far as that kid from her previous profile picture being hers. A, she’s skinny as a rail. B, if it was her kid, would she really want to post a picture without it? C, she stated she was bored in her last status update. Somehow I doubt there’s ever a boring moment with a kid to care for. I would think that whenever it was napping you’d scramble to do things you don’t normally get to do anymore.

She never replied to my message asking her to give my journal link to Evie, and she couldn’t have anyway, not that I’d have expected one. My profile is set up so that no one under 18 can access it.

TUESDAY, JUNE 1, 2010 I didn’t realize, until Marie told me, that you have to register for your own account on LiveJournal in order to hear my voice posts. Oh well, LOL!

I wasn’t sure if I was going to do the 5 posts a month thing because there isn’t really anything I can say that I’m not writing about, and if I won’t write it, I won’t say it. Maybe I can read some of my stories that aren’t online. Or maybe bitch about some things/people I don’t exactly care for. Or maybe I’ll have good things to say. I guess you’ll just have to wait and see! Even though I have my account set for the Pacific time zone and it’s only just after 11pm here, my two remaining voice posts for May have already expired. So it’s really on ET no matter what I tell it.

So I was thinking of creating a website and selling whatever, only A, I’m not really a retail kinda person, and B, most people prefer to buy from big-name sites like eBay, Walmart, Amazon, etc., so you don’t usually make much money this way as opposed to a brick and mortar store. Not sure what I would sell either. We had an eBay store for a while way back when, got sick of that, then moved on to other things. So I either have to think of something unique to sell that you won’t find in most other places or create a site where I don’t sell anything at all. Besides, I don’t want to buy merchandise that might not sell and end up stuck with it like I hear so many people end up doing. As I said, they want to buy from big-name stores, and I don’t blame them with all the scams that are out there these days. When I shop online I don’t buy from individuals unless they’re some kind of power seller on eBay or someone I know.

[aerospace-agenda]

So I just got served a somewhat interesting news article;

"Keir Starmer set to be 'worst Prime Minister in history' after 'disgusting' winter fuel cuts"

Now, to be clear, I'm not here to defend those cuts- I can totally see why people would feel angry, upset, and betrayed by that decision. I'm not exactly happy about it myself.

But the thing I find interesting here is "worst Prime Minister in history".

...."worst Prime Minister in history"...

Considering the past revolving door of the past decade when it comes to PMs, and the utter shitshow that most of them have been- especially Boris Johnson's neverending cavalcade of incompetence, corruption, scandal, and general illegalities- that's quite the claim!

And, by metrics at least, he's already failed to beat Truss's record- she managed to tank her approval/disapproval into 8%/75% with a resignation within 50 days, and he's currently over 70 days in at 55%/19%. Cameron and every single tory PM following him has seen worse figures than Starmer is currently at. Three of them managed to get disapproval over 70, and two of them got approval under 10.

But I'm sure the source is trustworthy. GBNews, after all, is clearly impartial in this claim, what with having presenters like Nigel Farage, Jacob Rees-Mogg, and, uh, Boris Johnson...

I'm not here to defend Starmer- frankly, I'm pretty goddamn sick of austerity shit, and I can't say I'm pleased that it's labour doing it now. But. It's pretty rich for a conservative thing to claim he's "the worst PM ever" because he decided to engage with austerity measures, after no less than 5 tory PMs, pretty much all of whom were also engaging in this exact kinda austerity shit, have resigned in under 10 years, each of whom was in various degrees of disgrace and/or hypocrisy.

Like, consider the legacy that the list of previous tory PMs have left;

David Cameron, PM from 2010 to 2016, not only oversaw consistent austerity measures resulting in cuts to public services (strategically targeted to minimise impact on groups more likely to vote conservative, no less), but also put forward the brexit referendum. It's worth noting that referendum was almost entirely motivated by an attempt to satisfy euroskeptic tory MPs and allow him to stay party leader. After promising to remain PM and see the outcome of the referendum delivered regardless of which way it goes, he resigns almost immediately when the result is delivered.

Theresa May, PM from 2016 through 2019, followed him up. A... relatively strong start is followed up by a playlist of failure. An attempt to solidify her position through a snap election resulting in the tories losing the slim majority they had, coupled with bungles like the fox hunting debacle see her net favourability go from around +10 to more like -30. This never really recovers. She attempts to negotiate a deal to leave the EU, but it's unpopular enough that a significant portion of her own party's MPs vote against it, and it ultimately goes nowhere. Eventually, she resigns.

And that leads us into the modern era of the tories- Boris Johnson's legacy is a long shadow, amidst not only his personal issues of scandal and misconduct, but also stuff like his unlawful prorogation of parliament, the corruption shitshow that was his governments handling of covid, the "specific and limited" breach of international law, the bullying allegations, domonic cumming breaking lockdown, the lobbying violations, partygate and its followups, the ethics adviser resigning, and the straw that broke the camels back- his response to the sexual assault allegations regarding Chris Pincher. And that's just listing some of the major scandals, without getting into shit like deciding to implement the "Rwanda scheme", which is its own political nightmare. A while after he stepped down as PM, he resigned as an MP entirely after an investigation found he had lied to and misled parliament.

Liz "didn't outlast a lettuce" Truss somehow managed to become even less popular than Boris within two months, becoming one of the least popular and the shortest lasting PMs in british history, pushing support for the tories so low that an "if there was an election tomorrow"-simulation poll predicted that the SNP would become the opposition party.

And, of course, we finally are left with Rishi Sunak. Whose political situation was more or less one of desperately trying to find some image for the tories that would get people behind it, and failing. Things like the continued support for the Rwanda scheme and all the nonsense around small boats really didn't help. An abysmally handled early election resulted in the tories having one of their worst ever defeats, not because of support for other parties, but because of a lack of support for them- they went from almost 14m votes in 2019 to less than 7m. Labour lost over 500 thousand votes, and gained over 200 MPs.

For reference as to how unpopular Starmer is on approval/disapproval, compared to these individuals? He's currently performing at where Theresa May spent most of her time.

Or, in other words, he's doing better than Rishi Sunak or Liz Truss ever managed, and what David Cameron fell to post-brexit. Boris Johnson probably more or less averages out to slightly higher than his current rankings.

And frankly, if we're going to consider arguments for "worst PM ever", I honestly think that there are much stronger candidates in the last decade alone. Cameron's selfish brexit disaster setting the stage for years of chaos and political controversy. Boris Johnson's multi-year nuking of the tory party's credibility, and Liz Truss salting that earth as efficiently as possible. The fact, that despite being awful in his own right, Rishi Sunak manages to be a footnote in comparison? That really says it all.

[iplaywithstring]

So, I might be "in remission" with my ME/CFS.

it's in quotes because I don't actually know the criteria and I haven't talked to my doctor about it.

I had remission before - right after I was diagnosed in 2010, I started feeling better. Better as in I had been sleeping/resting/not active for about 18 hrs a day and then over the period of about two weeks I felt better and told my doctor my symptoms were gone. I was warned it could come back at any time, but I didn't listen. I did more and more and within a year I had taken up power lifting (2011). Shortly after that (fall 2012) I got a part time job. Within a few months (summer 2013) symptoms came back, I had to quit my job, and things got progressively worse.

There have been times since 2013 that I have been housebound. There have been times when I had about 4-6 "active" hours a day (where "active" meant anything from being on my feet to just being upright). After starting treatment for endometriosis I went through the diagnostic process a second time with the same results in 2017. I was prescribed stimulants to take as-needed on days when I needed to function in 2018.

Since 2019, I have been getting better at pacing - understanding my limits, not pushing myself, and actually resting. Early 2020, my husband went to Europe for 5 weeks, and I managed to take care of myself and my kids and the house without crashing (and did volunteer work!). When things shut down, I was able to sleep, rest, and be active according to how I felt instead of basing my activity on outside pressures. I really learned what pacing was and where my limits were.

in the fall of 2021 I went back to school - two days a week on site and two days a week online classes from home. Aside from a few bad days and not really leaving the house on the weekends, I managed without crashing. I started my full time on the job training three weeks ago (although full disclosure - I haven't actually worked full time - I've been sent home early at least once a week (because not all clients are comfortable having a student sit in on meetings) so it's not quite full time, but a lot more activity than I have been doing).

I'm waiting for the crash, but it hasn't happened. My husband reminds me that I'm not doing anything in the evenings - couch lump most of the time - but I am still doing a lot. Twice this week I was close to 10k steps, and I wake up the next day expecting to feel awful and I.....don't. My mind is working, my muscles and joints are....well, ok, they're sore, but OTC meds are taking care of it. My digestive system is working (this is a big deal!). I haven't had insomnia or other sleep difficulties. I haven't had random nausea or dizzyness or inability to function.

A friend of mine has reminded me that I'm likely riding on a lot of adrenaline, and she's not wrong, but I would expect the weekends to be bad if that was what was keeping me going. Instead, I'm...fine? Like today is Saturday and I woke up on my own around 8 and instead of napping in the afternoon I went for a 3k walk (slowly, on flat ground) - this is after doing some cleaning. And then I spent the rest of the day mostly sitting/reclining and feeling pretty tired. But just tired, not ill, not sensitive to sound, not having temperature regulation problems, just sitting on the couch relaxing (ok, under a blanket, but still, no chills or blue lips).

So now I'm wondering if I've actually just been faking for the past 10 years or if I was actually just lazy and wasting my life, or if I'm going to wake up one day and just be a mess. This is really happy and exciting news, but I feel really......insecure? about the whole thing. Last time I had a remission I went to therapy because it brought up a ton of things I had to work through - identity issues, who I am, what I want, etc. - and in the end it was positive but it was definitely a crisis point.

I want to believe that I am just understanding my limits and somehow not going past my ability, but it's really hard not to bounce back and forth between "oh no when am I going to crash" and "obviously I'm a fraud". It's been a trip, folks.

[give-grian-rights]

. . . .w-whats the take???

...

Scooby Doo: Mystery Incorporated did what Steven Universe couldn't-

LISTEN. i WAS a fan of Steven Universe. up until the last season. i dropped off for similar reasons to other fans. Steven Universe helped a lot to be progressive for cartoon representation and it deserves some mild respect in that area. still, in my opinion, a poorly executed show.

The entire first season, except for like twelve episodes, are filler. plotlines that could've been answered, or at least MENTIONED, were left hanging for literal irl years. i am glad i wasn't an active watcher when the series finale dropped because what the fuck. they shoe-horned in so much stuff????

now . im a fucking minecraft blog i am not the person to decide if your show is worth liking or not . i do not care . what i will say is the show could've done so much better . and there are shows, ON CARTOON NETWORK, that in my opinion accomplished their goal.. much better

Thus comes Scooby Doo Mystery Incorporated. 52 episodes, it tells a cohesive, if not a smidge confusing and bizarre, story. Characters going through stakes, losses, broken relationships and betrayals. No one might want to hear this, but Mystery Incorporated is literally the Gravity Falls of Cartoon Network . the mysteries have stakes. The resolutions, often time, directly effects the cast. All of the cast develop as people, for better and worse.

I do NOT want to spoil Mystery Inc. to anyone who hasn't watched it before, because in my unprofessional opinion, it really was one of the best series to come out in the early 2010's. But it had fairly consistent animation, with charming and artistic designs that pay homage to the previous iterations of Scooby Doo's franchise. it does NOT depend on it being part of that franchise but still is able to work it into the series and pay respect to the previous series in a way that doesn't feel forced.

somehow a scooby doo series from 2010-2012, with a little more than 50 episodes, told a story unravel from beginning to end, one that's bizarre, mysterious, goofy and also touching on the aspects of these characters being teens.

Scooby Doo Mystery Incorporated managed to tell it's story. It had a RELATIVELY more inclusive cast (for the scooby franchise) while still being one of the first western cartoons to tell a plot. It had a beginning, middle, and end. it got us attached emotionally to these characters, new and old, with what little time it had and explored the relationships with all those characters. in a scooby doo cartoon from 2010 on fucking cartoon network

anyway APPARENTLY ITS GOING OFF NETFLIX in December so please. please give this a watch. its not a perfect show but its a genuinely interesting story and worth more acknowledgement .

[snelbz]

Life As We Know It {Chapter Seven}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara’s blogs! >> @tacmc.

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Nesta was out with Elain, Mor, Emerie, Amren, and Gwen for the night.

She had no idea when she’d be home.

This meant one thing and one thing only.

It was Cassian’s first night alone with Nyx.

It was no different than being home alone with Nyx during the day, which Cassian had been a handful of times thus far. However, Nyx didn’t seem to need as much during the day.

Eat, sleep, play, repeat.

At night, he needed a dinner, a bath, his bottle, to be rocked, to be put down for the night…which was something he never liked doing. A daytime nap? He didn’t mind. Sleeping for nine hours? Apparently that thought just pissed him off.

Nesta was a pro at getting him to sleep for the night. Cassian had offered once to do it and failed miserably.

“Not tonight, little man,” Cassian said to Nyx as they sat at the dinner table together. “Tonight, you’re going to bed the first time for Uncle Cassian.”

Nyx looked at Cassian and giggled.

Cassian scoffed. “Don’t mock me.”

Dinner with Cassian meant Nyx got the good shit. No puréed green beans or mashed carrots tonight. After he’d polished off a small jar of the cinnamon apples, Nyx had eaten nearly half a tube of puréed sweet potato, and Cassian was eating his own food. He took a bite of supreme pizza and pointed at him, before holding up a single finger. “After this, we’re gonna take a bath, and you aren’t going to throw water everywhere or poop in the tub, got it?”

Nyx just banged his little hand on the tray of his high chair, causing more sweet potato to fly onto himself, grinning up at Cassian.

“Then one last bottle before bed, while I read you a story,” he said, holding up a second finger. “I’m sure there will be a diaper change in there somewhere, so please go easy on me, yeah?”

Nyx played in the mess of mixed food in front of him.

“And then you go to bed, so I can watch a movie and pass out myself, and boom. Nesta can’t say anything about my parenting anymore cause I managed to keep you alive for a whole night.”

Nyx blew a raspberry at him before he started babbling.

Cassian took that as agreement.

“Perfect,” Cassian said, ruffling Nyx’s dark hair as he shoved the rest of the pizza into his mouth with his other hand.

He got up to clear his plate, and by the time he went back to Nyx’s high chair, he had managed to make orange streaks in his black hair.

Courtesy of the sweet potatoes.

With a sigh, Cassian took the tray off the high chair and unbuckled Nyx, picking him up and carrying him toward the bath.

“You first, tray second,” Cassian said.

Nyx started patting his little potato covered hands on Cassian’s cheeks, giggling at the sound it made.

Cassian cringed at the way it felt. “Thanks for that.”

He filled the bathtub up, ensuring it wasn’t too hot, like Nesta had shown him, and got Nyx out of his messy clothes and into the tub. After he’d wiped his own face clean of sweet potato, he went to work on Nyx, who had somehow managed to get it on the back of his knees.

Twenty minutes and a full change of wet, soggy clothes later for Cassian, he was sitting in Nyx’s nursery, in the rocking chair in the corner, a book open in his lap.

“This would be a book your parents bought you,” he muttered, opening the front cover. After clearing his throat, he began, “The night sky of Velaris greeted all the townspeople, letting them know it was time to go to bed.” Nyx patted the page and babbled something incoherent. Cassian nodded. “Yeah, it’s a nice picture, isn’t it?” He went on reading the story, written by a local author, no doubt, and Cassian found himself snorting at some of the sentences, but Nyx was fully engaged.

By the time he had finished the book, Nyx was leaning back against him, fully relaxed in his pajamas.

Even Cassian let out a yawn.

“You know, the Velaris starlight was important to your parents,” Cassian said, rocking Nyx back and forth. “They fell in love on Starfall. At least, that’s what Rhys always said. He was in love with your mama long before that, but she started falling for him on Starfall.” Nyx’s dark lashes began to fall, his eyelids drooping. “That’s why they named you Nyx. In Greek, Nyx means night.”

Nyx’s hand gripped Cassian’s thumb. He looked down at the sight and chuckled, quietly.

The baby looked up at him then, with those big, blue eyes, eyes that were so blue, they looked violet in the dark. That dark hair that was starting to need a trim, falling into his eyes. Cassian blinked quickly, trying to keep the sudden tears from spilling over. “You look so much like your dad,” he whispered.

Nyx just continued to watch him, pacifier in his mouth, those eyes getting sleepier with every rock of the chair.

Swallowing harshly, Cass set the book down and resituated Nyx so he was laying against his chest. He gently rubbed his back, the way he saw Nesta do when he would get fussy.

“I miss your dad,” he said, softly. “I know you do, too, you’ve known him your whole life, but—. But so have I. And after twenty-eight years he’s just…gone.”

That dark head snuggled in closer against him, one of his little hands clutching Cassian’s t-shirt.

Cassian said nothing else. If he had, he wouldn’t have gotten them out clearly.

He rocked. He rocked and he rocked and he rocked until Nyx was snoring, softly. As carefully as he could, Cassian rose and laid Nyx down in his crib.

After waiting a moment to make sure he didn’t wake up, Cassian tiptoed out of the room and across the hall to his own bedroom.

He had just laid down and unlocked his phone when he heard crying.

Tossing his phone back on his pillow, Cassian was instantly up, hurrying back across the hall. Nyx’s feet were kicking, his arms waving wildly, perfectly unhappy.

“What’s going on?” Cassian asked, picking the baby up out of the crib and cradling him against his chest. “Huh? You were sleeping so nicely.”

He continued to cry, and no amount of bouncing or patting his back was seeming to work.

“Come on, dude,” he muttered, sitting back down in the rocker. He resumed the slow back and forth motion, praying it would soothe Nyx back into peaceful sleep. “We did the bath. We did the bottle. We did the book. This is when you go to sleep.”

He kept crying and Cassian just shushed him quietly, his hand resuming the gentle rubbing he had done before. It helped, but Nyx still sniffled. “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted. “I don’t know how to do any of this. I’m still scared I’m gonna do something to fuck up and I wouldn’t just be doing it to you, it’d be to Rhys, too.”

Nyx’s wailing returned, and Cassian tried to close his eyes and take deep breaths. It wasn’t working. With everything he tried, Nyx only cried more and more and more.

“Come on, buddy,” he begged. “It’s time for bed, alright? It’s time to calm down.” Nyx let out a cry so loud that Cassian nearly jumped, which only scared Nyx, making him cry louder.

Cassian tried changing his diaper, tried getting him to take his pacifier, but nothing helped. He continued to rock, continued to pat, continued to walk Nyx around his room, but nothing worked.

Nothing.

Defeated, Cassian laid Nyx back down in his crib. “Come on, bud. Come on.”

Nyx kept crying, and Cassian rubbed his temples, trying not to join his nephew in his agony.

“Shhhhhh,” Cassian began, leaning over the crib, patting Nyx’s stomach. “It’s time for bed, Nyx. It’s time for bed. If your parents were here right now, I’m sure you’d already be asleep. Shit, if Nesta were here, you’d already be asleep.” He shook his head. “It’s me, isn’t it?”

The baby replied by continuing to cry.

He swore quietly, and hurried across the hall grabbing his phone, dialing a number he’d unknowingly memorized. She answered on the second ring.

“Is everything okay?”

He couldn’t hear music and laughter in the background of the call, but heard how panicked her voice was. She must have stepped away from her friends. It only made him feel that much worse.

“I can’t get him to stop crying and go to sleep,” he admitted. “I don’t know what else to try.”

“You gave him his bottle?” She asked, and he nodded. Then audibly answered her. After that, she ticked off the checklist of things she usually went through. Every single one he’d already tried.

“It’s like it’s just me,” he said, trying to calm him down while he held the phone to his ear. He scooped him up into his arms and sat down in the rocking chair. “He hates me and won’t go to sleep.”

She was quiet for a minute. “You know that’s not true, Cassian. He loves you.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he said, quietly, low enough that he wasn’t sure if the receiver could pick it up over Nyx’s wailing.

But it didn’t matter, because he heard footsteps hurrying up the stairs.

When Nesta rounded the corner, she wasn’t expecting to find Cassian looking defeated in the rocking chair. She pretended not to see the tears on his handsome face as she dropped her purse by the door of the nursery and took Nyx. She began to soothe him and tried to give him back his pacifier, but he wouldn’t take it.

“He’s cutting a new tooth,” Nesta said, carefully looking into his mouth, wide open thanks to a drawn out sob. “That’s all. He’s just uncomfortable, isn’t he?”

By the end of the sentence she was looking at Nyx, an over-exaggerated frown on her face.

She handed him back to Cassian and was downstairs and back with cooling, teething toy she’d pulled out of the freezer. He began to chew and gnaw on it the moment she handed it to him.

The crying quieted.

“There,” she said, smoothing his dark hair back from his forehead. “Better, yeah?”

Taking him from Cassian who hadn’t said a word since she walked in, she put him back into his crib and gently rubbed his belly. Within minutes, he was asleep again.

He murmured, “Thanks. You…didn’t have to end your night early for me.” He gestured toward the front door. “You can head back out. I can— I can handle it now.”

She shook her head. “I was on the way home. Turns out I wasn’t really in the going out mood.”

Cassian nodded, and said no more. He simply watched Nyx, his chest rising and falling. Nesta gave him a curt nod and walked out, back into the hall.

Cassian followed, shutting the nursery door quietly behind him.

“You did that so effortlessly.”

Nesta stopped and turned to face him near her bedroom, a brow raised. “Effortlessly?”

“I’ve been struggling for hours and you came in, and less than five minutes… He was out.” Cassian shook his head. “I’ve known him since the day he was born and I had no idea what he wanted.”

“He’s a baby, Cassian. He doesn’t even know what he wanted.”

“You knew,” he said, exasperated, exhausted.

She blinked, not expecting the tone of his voice to have sounded so…empty.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Nesta said, looking at him, willing him to meet her eyes. He didn’t look up.

“It’s not okay,” he said, and suddenly his words were sharp. “Rhys trusted me to take care of him but I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.”

She shook her head. “They trusted us, but they knew it wouldn’t be easy. We knew it wouldn’t be easy. We just have to take it day by day and-.”

“It’s not okay!” His words weren’t loud but they were panicked. “I have to provide for him and I can’t fucking do it if I don’t know what he needs.”

“Cassian-.”

“Why would they choose me?” He asked, his voice quiet. Tears filled his eyes. He hated himself for it. “I never even wanted kids! I have no idea what to do with a kid, Nesta. I don’t know what parents are supposed to do, what dads are supposed to do, I didn’t even fucking have one.”

Nesta remained quiet, afraid to speak, afraid to move. She had never seen Cassian like this.

She didn’t think anyone had ever seen Cassian like this.

“I don’t know what to do, I don’t know how to do this,” he repeated. “I can’t— I can’t do this.”

She knew her words would mean nothing, reassuring him that he wasn’t alone in this, that they would figure it out together. It wouldn’t help him, wouldn’t ease his mind or his heart. That heart that was still broken from the loss of his best friend, his brother. So she did something she never thought she’d do.

She closed the space between them and wrapped her arms around him.

Cassian didn’t move for a moment, he just let her slim arms wrap around his waist, not realizing that he was on the brink of losing it. He was fairly sure that right now, she was the only thing holding him together, both mentally and physically. But after a long minute, his own arms wrapped around her shoulder and he buried his face into the top of her hair. He didn’t care that his tears were soaking her hair, didn’t care that this was the woman he’d spent the past five years hating and avoiding like she was the damn plague.

He didn’t care that he was falling to pieces.

Standing in that hallway, with Nyx sleeping behind the closed bedroom door, Cassian wept, and he didn’t care who saw it.

[hoseokslefteyebrow]

Bon 4oyage || K.SJ

Episode 1

Pairing: Kim Seokjin X Reader Summary: In which you're Jin's girlfriend of 9 years and tag along in Bon Voyage Season 4. Wordcount: 3.4k

" Y/N ah, tell me, do you have any plans for the (random date) till the (another random date)? " Your boyfriend of nine years asks you suddenly. 

The two of you are simply chilling in your shared apartment. 

" Not as far as I'm concerned, why? " You ask, sitting down beside him. 

You were cleaning up the apartment before he asked you. 

" Y'know the boys and I will be going on Bon Voyage again, right? " He asks you, lacing your fingers together. 

You hum with a pout. 

" Yeah, it's my annual miss Jin ti-"

" Not this year love. " He cuts you off, a smile on his lips. 

You raise a brow in confusion. 

" Not this year? " 

" Yeah, I've asked the company, once again. And this time, they actually agreed. " He tells you with shining eyes. 

A smile makes it's way onto your face. 

" Really?! "

It was, in a way, hard to believe. The company liked you, but never actually approved of Jin having a relationship. When you became a couple back in 2010, the two of you had to keep it a secret for 4 years for the company, and another 5 years to the public. Until now, you didn't think that they would be okay with you going public.

You couldn't believe it. Finally your waiting for each other got paid off. 

" Yes. However, there are a few downsides. " He tells you, making a bit of a turtle face. 

You subconsciously run your thumb over his hand. 

" Just so you know, I will not come if I have to wear a mask for the whole thing-"

" No, no. -" He laughs. 

" Even worse. We can't have sex. For like a little longer than a whole week. " He tells you. 

You snort at his expression. You can tell it's genuinely bothering him. 

" Is that an issue for me or you? " You ask him. 

He huffs, turning around so he can lay against you instead. You run your unoccupied hand through his hair. Sure it's basically dead, but you know he likes it. 

" Both. I know your sex drive, plus that also means like, no sleeping naked. And I have to share your attention with the other boys. " He pouts. 

You grin, bending over to kiss his head. 

" Don't worry, it'll be fine, fun even. We'll just have a pg family trip. " 

And so you find yourself seated at a restaurant between your boyfriend and Taehyung. They're about to kick off the season, and today you're just going to talk about activities and what not. 

" There's trekking and a lavender farm. " Hoseok comments as he looks at his phone. 

" That sounds fun. " You comment, as the other boys give their own opinions. 

After a bit more of catching up, the staff calls out to all of you. 

" You've all done your research, right? " The staff member asks. 

You all hum in response. 

" Worry about the activities later, pick the accommodations first. " The producer tells all of you. 

Soon enough everyone's talking again, figuring stuff out. 

" We have to sleep in a campervan for three days. " Yoongi suddenly casually pops when you're drinking your tea. 

You almost choke. 

" eight of us in a campervan? How is that going to fit? " 

" eight of us in one campervan won't be comfortable. " Taehyung agrees with you. 

" We'll probably have 2 vans. " Jin tells the two of you. 

" Y'know, there's this thing I've always wanted to try- When you wake up in a campervan and then wash up in the river. " Jungkook smiles. 

You blink at him. 

" You want to wash up in the cold? " You ask him. 

He grins. 

" If I can manage, yes. It'll be fun. " He nods. 

" We didn't do research that thoroughly. " Namjoon tells the crew honestly. 

" Forget on where to stay! We'll figure that out somehow. Let's focus on the activities first. " Jin calls out, basically canceling the producer's idea. 

Soon enough everyone starts coming with ideas. 

Jimin wants to go to Aurora¿ and on a boat. Yoongi just wants to go fishing and Namjoon wants to go on a kart trek. 

" I want to go on the swing too." Jin says. 

" The swing? " Namjoon asks surprised. 

Namjoon had this great idea to go do some kind of bungee jump activity, just with a swing, as if that would magically make it better. 

Jin hums. 

" Yeah, it'll be fun with Y/N. We can both scream our heads off. " He smiles at you. 

You laugh, swallowing your bite. 

" Okay. But that does me we really are going, okay? No backing out last minute. " You tell him, knowing he's a scaredy cat sometimes. 

He laughs. 

" Yah! It's not like you're any better. " He points out. 

You laugh. 

That's true. 

" Okay, okay, I promise. Do you? " You ask him, holding out your pink. 

He smiles, taking your hand instead and kissing the top of it, sending you a wink playfully. 

None of the boys mind either of you by now, knowing the way you two act longer than a while. 

" I promise, m'lady. " 

" We just sealed our death. " You laughed. 

" We did. " He laughs with you. 

" Well, at least we'll die together. " You tell him. 

He smiles at you and winks again. 

" That we do. "

By the  the two of you tune back in, they're talking about trekking. 

" It only takes 2 hours to finish. " Yoongi speaks. 

Apparently they're talking about Mount Cook. 

Soon enough they're all talking, and giving their opinions on it. 

" It's really only a few hours, we should do it. " You catch Yoongi saying. 

Jin hums in agreement, slurping in his noodles. 

You raise your brow at both of them. 

" Bet, you two will regret it. " You tell Yoongi, who smiles at you and shakes his head. 

He makes an over confident face. 

" We'll be fine, we'll have fun, don't worry. " He tells you. 

" Should we stay in the campervan the whole time? " Jungkook suddenly wonders. 

You make a face but don't say anything. 

The editors do catch it, as does Taehyung. He nudges you with a smile. 

" We'll all stink by the third day. " You tell him softly. 

He laughs. 

Sleeping in a campervan with eight people doesn't sound too appealing for the whole week. 

" We can play Halli Galli. " Your boyfriend adds helpfully. 

" And BTS Uno! " Namjoon adds too. 

" Camping for sure. " Someone pops, probably Jungkook. 

" Does anyone know anything about camping? What do we need? " Namjoon asks. 

" Well, we start with a tent. " Hoseok provides helpfully. 

" I've camped a few times with my brother and his friends. Most stuff is usually inside the campervan."  You tell them. 

Jimin adds onto that, explaining most stuff to Namjoon, like a table that's built in. 

" Let me see the campervan? " Jungkook asks. 

" It's huge. " Hoseok responses. 

" If it's that big, will it be easy to drive? " Jin asks. 

" The road will probably be mostly empty. " Namjoon points out. 

" We do need shower facilities. It's not like we can shower outside. " Yoongi points out. 

" We don't need to shower. " Jin says vaguely. 

You give him a disgusted face. 

" Oh yes we do. " You tell him. 

" I want to too. " Jimin says. 

" We have to think of the rest too. " Yoongi tells Jin. 

" I normally shower though. " Jin says. 

" Yeah I know. " Yoongi grins. 

" You better. " You say with a scrunched nose. 

Jimin laughs. 

" Happy wife happy life, hyung. " Jimin tells the eldest. 

Jin turns to you and looks blankly at you for a second. You raise your brows before flipping your hair over your shoulder sassily, returning your attention to your meal. 

" No, I do take showers everyday, and my lady knows, thank you very much. " He grins playfully, one of his hands going under the table to rest on your thigh. 

After a bit more of discussing about Jin's shower habits, the producer cuts in. 

" We do need to choose an accommodation besides the campervan. " He points out. 

You breathe happily as Tae grins at you. 

For a moment it's a bit of chaos, most of the boys pointing out a 9.7 rated accommodation. 

With a bathtub.

As soon as it comes into view, Jin turns to you, and you give him a cheeky smile back, yet shake your head. 

Rules are rules. 

However, a moment later they're looking at a different accommodation, with cramped rooms. 

" it'll be fun. Like old times. " Jungkook smiles. 

A moment later they're back at discussing the campervan. 

" Jungkook and I will drive mostly though. " Hoseok calls out. 

" I don't mind driving. " Hoseok tells the others. 

" I'll get a driver's license on our days off too. " Namjoon pouts. 

" I can drive. " You tell them. 

Almost everyone turns to beam at you. 

" No, no. Not you, you drive like we're in Fast & Furious. " He points out. 

You grin. 

" Then she can be back up driver. " Yoongi gives you fake hope. 

" Back up driver? We already have enough drivers though.-"

" Yeah, we can't have you drive on national tv. " Jin says quickly. 

You laugh but don't bother with it. 

This can only mean you'll be in charge of the audio right? 

Soon after they're making a song about Bon Voyage. 

You can't really follow, but you clap along anyway. 

The scene wraps up with everyone clapping. 

-

A Few Months Later

" Yah! I went shopping with Y/N especially for this! " Jin says as his bandmates bully him. 

You don't pay a lot of attention, instead busy with helping the boys pack the last stuff and checking up on everyone. 

Soon enough a staff asked you aside. 

" Yeah? " You asked her. 

" This is for you, as you're coming with and the boys' are sponsored by Fila. The company thought it'd be nice if you'd at least have a jacket of the same brand too. " She smiles. 

" Oh, that's really nice. Thank you. "  You smile at her. 

She hands you a soft pink wintercoat. It's admittedly not your colour, nor your style, but you take the jacket gratefully, happy that they at least thought of you. 

" I look good in whatever I wear. " You hear Jin say. 

You come up to the mirror beside him, checking out the jacket on yourself. 

" Noona, your jacket looks nice on you too. " Jungkook compliments you. 

You smile at him. 

" Thank you! A staff member gave it to me, it's from the company. " You beam. 

And then they're arguing over Namjoon's accent. 

" We may be in the same group, but during our days off, I only saw Jimin hyung and Hobi hyung. And Y/N Noona. " Jungkook tells the camera, smiling cheekily at him as you give him a look. 

You too went to visit him on his birthday. 

" Yah! I called you so often! " Jin argues. 

Jungkook doesn't bother with Jin's complaint. 

From there the talk is mostly chaotic. First Jin's asking about an extra suitcase (which is really yours), Taehyung is showing of his Ramen noodles, Jimin has finally arrived and you found out that Yoongi's washing up. 

" At least someone showers. " You tease your boyfriend as you nudge him playfully, thinking of the small meeting a few months back. 

" Yah! I shower too! You of all people know that. " He shakes his head, playing along. 

You grin.

Soon enough you engage in small talk with Namjoon, and you can hear Jin somewhere in the back. 

" Compared to when you went to Malta-" The staff member begun. 

" We took a lot more this time, didn't we? " Jin says. 

" My pillow, something to hug when I have to sleep separately from Y/N, a down coat, fleece, pajamas. I also packed some slippers. And some of Y/N's clothes didn't fit it her suitcase, so it's in mine. " Jin laughs. 

" Do we need to bring shampoo and conditioner? " Jin asks a few moments later as everyone's seated together on the couch. 

"  We should bring our own, we might not be able to bring them. " Yoongi points out. 

" I'm taking mine with me, you guys can use it too if you don't mind smelling like fruit. " You shrug. 

" We can also get them at the airport. " Jungkook suggests. 

" Right, Duty-Free. "

 And then they suddenly spring to the topic of food, and before hopping over to talking about who's going to be the accountant. 

You don't bother adding in on that, you've never traveled with a group of eight before, and you aren't really willing to try when it comes down to it. After that, you're all tacking up your suitcases. 

Soon after they're suddenly grabbing some random bags, and Hoseok finds money. 

How they forget money, you don't know. 

You all sing the new Bon Voyage theme song before you finally set off towards the airport. 

" Did you search for 'huge luggage' when you bought your bag? " Yoongi teases Jungkook, though his bag is just as big. 

You're walking in front of the two, your left arm linked with Jin's right, your suitcase in your right hand and your backpack on top of it. 

You turn to give him a look. 

" I'm pretty sure we all did. " You point out. 

After a moment of rare silence (The only thing you hear is the rolling of suitcases), Jin claps again. 

" Bon Voyage! " 

" Why is no one reacting? " He asks the camera with a grin. 

" Bon Voyage! " Jungkook pitches in late. 

A moment later, the scene cuts, and you all get on the bus. 

You sit in the back with Jungkook and Hoseok. 

" How did you spend your vacations? " The producer asks them. 

They all each start talking about their vacation. 

Yoongi mentions his finished mixtape, Namjoon visited lots of museums and went to Europe, Hoseok points out about how he hasn't seen most of them in a while, Jimin basically went everywhere, from Korea to Russia, and Jungkook worked on some songs. 

" Jin what did you do in the vacation? " A staff member asks. 

You snort. 

" I spent half the time sleeping and half the time playing games. " He admits. 

" I went on dates with Y/N too. " He says quickly after. 

" It's no surprise, at least he made time for you. " Namjoon grins, looking at you. 

" I forced him. " You joke. 

" I wasn't that bad. But I mostly did play games whenever Y/N wasn't around. Or slept. " He nods along to his own words sleepily. 

" Then I realized I couldn't keep living like that, and so I met up with some friends too. " He laughed. 

" You had an important realization. " Hoseok comments. 

" I did. " Jin grins

After that came the question of Taehyung's where abouts and he mostly traveled the outskirts with friends. Most were shook when he mentioned one of his friends already being married. Jin too gave you a quick glance at the mention of marriage. Taehyung also mentioned working on a few songs too. Hoseok came soon after, and he mostly worked on his solo song 'Chicken Noodle Soup', and chilled at his apartment. 

After that they spoke about their pets. When the question came if you had any, you shook your head, though you did mention that your parents owned two cats. 

After that you all got a 'travel guide' made by crew for New Zealand. You didn't open it yet, instead opting to read through on the plane. 

Before you know it, you've all arrived at the airport.

And before you know it, you and Jin are waving the other boys off. 

" Bye guys! " 

" Bye! "

" Have a safe flight! "

" So they can't come? " Jimin asked, as Yoongi did so at the same time. 

" They can. " The staff answered shortly. 

" Huh, so you can't? " Jungkook asks you, still confused. 

" No, we can, we'll just have to take a different flight, we'll probably arrive a few hours later. " Jin tells Jungkook. 

" We have a connecting flight, we'll probably arrive around the same time. " Yoongi points out. 

" As long as you two can come it's fine. " Jungkook comments. 

[ Due to issues with Y/N and Jin's travel documents, the two are unable to board the same flight as the members. Luckily, they're able to take a different flight, and arrive an hour later. ]

Time flies, and before you know it, the two of you are walking in the airport, just having checked in. 

" Y'know, I might as well have forgotten my password. " Jin jokes. 

You shake your head. 

The humor appeared to be low budget. 

Soon after he's catching up with Army through the camera, simply babbling about his plans as you too listen, until, 

" Oh, is that RJ? " He wonders, looking at a shop. 

You sigh. 

" Oh please not again, we have so many of them-"

" Let's be cute and get matching RJ's Y/N. I'll pay. " He says, pulling you along with him as your arms are once again looped. 

Before you know it, the two of you are at the check out, with two matching RJ plushies. He's got a pretty big one, while you've got a smaller, cuter one. 

Soon enough it is time to get on your flight, and time,, flies,, by. 

" Now, we are going to find the other members. " Jin informs the camera as the two of you finally walk out of the airport. 

A crew member tells him it's all good like this, and he turns the camera off, handing it to the staff member. 

" Don't you think it's a little awkward to talk to a camera? " You ask Jin as the two of you and two other staff members get on a cab thing to go to the other members. 

He shrugs, holding out a hand for you to help you get in the car as the car has a bit of a elevation. 

" Not really, we're pretty used to having camera's on us by now. " He tells you honestly. 

You hum, and soon enough everyone's in the car, and easy conversation flows through. 

It doesn't take all too long before you're at the destination. 

Once you are spotted by the other members in the parking lot, Hoseok is the first to hop over, basically jumping on your boyfriend. 

You chuckle, being used to their way of greeting each other. 

" Y/N! " Hobi smiles, looping an arm around your shoulder casually as he leads to the rest, just as Jimin literally hops onto Jin. 

Jimin fetches your suitcases as Jin is quickly waved inside to do training. 

As Jin goes inside, you turn to help Jimin, Hoseok's arm falling off as you do so. 

" Wait, let me help with that. " You call, jogging over to help him. 

The two of you get it done quickly, and soon enough you're being informed by staff of the facility about the campervan. 

The water seems to be a bit of a problem. 

" Look,  how about we all shower together?" Jungkook suggests.

" Except for Y/N of course. " jungkook adds quickly as both you and Jin send him a look. 

" Let's coordinate time. " Hoseok suggests. 

" Yah, how do we do that? We can't control everything! " Jin complains. 

Luckily, the staff comes with a solution. 

" There's holiday parks, campervans can go there too. They have shower and toilet accommodations. " He quips helpfully. 

" That sounds much better. " You laugh. 

" Okay, let's only use the campervan's toilet for emergency. " Yoongi adds. 

" If you're about to die. " Namjoon pops. 

" Let's shower all at once too. " Jungkook keeps trying. 

" We can't shower long. "

" Only 5 minutes, after that, cut the water. " Jin says, as does Hoseok.

A ton of questions later, everyone's once again getting their suitcases, and Yoongi loads it into the campervan. Soon after all of you are clapping along again. 

" Jungkook did you bring your dumbbells again? " Jin jokes. 

" That's not my suitcase. " Jungkook informs. 

" That's mine actually, sorry. " You grin, not actually feeling sorry. 

Once that's over with, there's a small discussion about who's driving what car. It settles with Jungkook driving the campervan and Jin driving the SUV. 

" Where are we going? " You hear most around you asking. 

" The guide book mentioned (a random restaurant). " You tell them. 

" Alright, if you say so. " Jin says, already getting the navigation started without further questions. 

The other car either can't hear you or doesn't listen, as they instead listen to the producer, who agrees with you. 

[ A/N: Oh my god this is a 3.4 k chapter folks,, never done dat before. Anyway, how did you guys like it?  Also, no, there will be no smut in this story, but keep in mind that Jin & reader are both of age and in a 9 year relationship. ]

[vro0m]

vro0m’s rewatch - 57/288

2010 Spanish GP

Recap + GIFs !

Soooo... They managed to come back even with Eyjafjallajökull.

Quali report : Lotus gained a lot of pace but it still wasn't enough. Williams are very slow. They have a new front wing that seems to make their pace even worse somehow. Alonso almost crashed into Nico in the pitlane in an unsafe release. Ferrari got a 13,500£ fine for it. The new fin on the Mercedes really worked for Schumacher who finally out-qualified Nico for 6th. Alonso is 4th, Jenson is 5th, Lewis is 3rd, Seb is 2nd in a RedBull front row. Horner says that compared to the one they had in China, the current car is about 30% new, which sounds insane. The amount of updates they kept doing during the season is seriously insane.

Formation lap.

And they're racing!

Lewis is still in 3rd. 10 laps in nothing is going on. Then the pit stops begin. Schumacher. Massa. Rosberg’s pitstop is weird, he was given a green light then he stopped just before the lane and then his front right brake caught on fire. Alonso pits from 4th, Seb from 3rd (wait I thought he was 2nd) also Button... Oop, they had a problem with his right rear, he lost a bunch of time and is now behind Schumacher. Lewis comes in too, as well as Webber... Oh god... As he came out a Virgin was slowing down right at the exit of the pitlane on the track trying to get out of the way as Seb was coming right behind and Lewis and Seb almost collided avoiding the Virgin and Seb was pushed off the track a little and Lewis came out in front of him! He's second!

Lol. Lewis comes on the radio and says "Charlie!" and goes on explaining that what that Virgin car did was very dangerous. Just. Casually addressing the race director directly in the middle of a race.

40 laps in, Lewis says he's losing grip. 20 laps later he's setting fastest laps though. Seb is struggling with his brakes to the point Redbull is clearing space in the garage in case they need to retire.

NOOO I saw it coming. With just one lap left Lewis has gone off and his car is damaged, it's over. He was P2 but he pushed too far, as he does. Remember when he spun in Italy 2009? Exact same thing. I'm so frustrated. Yeah it was a sudden puncture. Oh he's so sad.

And it's the end of the race...

Webber wins, Massa 2nd, Alonso 3rd. In the end Lewis classified 14th.

Lewis says it was a good race for him, he had fun but of course he's disappointed. He says the team did a good job and it was great to come here with such a faster car. It would have been good to be P2 for the team, but these things happen. He doesn't know what it was but they'll find out. He was just cruising to the finish line, even though it was impossible to catch Webber.

[theglowstickchronicles]

New Job Adventures... Kind Of

I know I said I wanted to get this all out on "paper" last week, but I got pulled into an internet spiral like it was 2010 and I was in my college dorm. It was impressive. And then work sucked me in like the Vacuum of Hell that it is.

Anyway.

For 2 1/2 years I’ve been the educator on the unit I worked on as a staff nurse, and if you’ve been following me for any length of time you’ve known that I struggle with a lot of aspects of the job. It's a stepdown/progressive care unit but we are a community hospital so we don't get too crazy. We don't do hemodynamic monitoring, certain drips, no vents, etc. Part of my struggle has been elevating the acuity of the patients on the unit but, since we are union, it's... mostly been a waste of time.

HOWEVER.

The educator in intensive care unit (ICU) is retiring next year. Her position has been posted since before I entered education and while we've had a few applicants, we have not hired anyone. We offered to 3 people, 2 declined due to money (government hospital = shit pay, comparatively) and 1 declined due to personal reasons/ we think she got knocked up and was only coming to us for the health benefits AKA free IVF. So in 3 years, only 3 qualified candidates. Fastforward to 2021 when the current educator reminds us that "less than one year until retirement!"

Oh. Oh God. If she retires I am going to be stuck "covering" them until we hire someone which means they will have no educator, just me harassing them about audits and CPR cards. And while I know a lot of my followers reading this aren't healthcare workers, but no educator in the ICU = bad news bears. Especially our ICU, which has been on the struggle bus for the past 5 years and has only gotten worse with covid. For example tonight we had not a single nurse on who had ever taken a balloon pump so that was a fun change of shift.

Cue this girl, who is now training in the ICU to take over when their educator retires in 10 months! I am super nervous because I'm not an ICU nurse, but I am spending a lot of time training, orienting, shadowing, taking extra online courses, etc. all so that I am ready. And let me tell you...

The ICU staff has been SO supportive. Today was literally my 3rd day orienting down there (my schedule is 47 shades of fucked up for the next 6+ months while I orient down there but still cover the stepdown unit until they hire someone on that unit) and they are already telling me I am a "real ICU nurse". They are all telling me how excited they are, how appreciative they are that I wanted to get trained, how well they think I'm going to do, even reaching out to me AT HOME to congratulate me and tell me to just holler if I need anything.

YOU GUYS. Coworkers that don't hate me and see me as one more "nurse leader" who doesn't know WTF is going on. I'm so excited.

Terrified, granted. So far I've cared for cardiac, neuro, and hepatorenal patients and seen swans, pacers, milrinone, a vent, precedex, a ventric, and hemodynamic monitoring. I have a ton to learn. And we haven't even broached the subject of being the one who responds to RRTs/ codes.

But still... it is so nice to feel appreciated and wanted.

It is going to be an extremely difficult year, 2021. I am going to have to do a ton of studying and somehow manage to do all the work I've been doing in my "40 hour" (sometimes 50 hour) workweeks, all in 16 hours of paid time (lmao). My schedule is... so strange due to classes and orientation and online courses. But still.... so exciting.

[qqueenofhades]

Fake dating AU for the idiot Heartrender Husbands! I beg of you!

As ever, I am preposterously easy to enable, and since they will eventually make an appearance in A Phantom in Enchanting Light, I decided to write their backstory for that verse. Also, “fake dating but it’s only fake because they’re both idiots” is an Aesthetic. I love them.

Moscow, 2010

The guy is most definitely late. Fedyor got here early – probably too early, since they’re supposed to meet at eleven and he arrived by quarter past ten – but it’s now 11:08 and still no sign of him. Fedyor has claimed a corner table in the coffee shop just off Red Square with its splendid old tsarist-era décor, surrounded by the murmur of conversation and clicking laptop keys as his fellow Muscovites get on with their daily lives. The rule is fifteen minutes, yes? If Ivan Sakharov doesn’t show up in another seven, Fedyor is free to bail. But it’s been so long, and Nadia, the mutual friend responsible for this set-up, has begged Fedyor to give him a chance. And since it is understandably difficult to date as a gay man in Russia, Fedyor’s patience must be tested longer than usual. He sips his flat white and glances at the door again. Still no Ivan.

Fedyor opens his phone and checks the photo that Nadia sent him, trying to decide if this man is attractive enough to compensate for his tardiness. It’s hard to tell. It is 11:14, and he is absolutely about to pack up and leave by no later than 11:25, when a tall, grim-faced man in a red windbreaker strides in. He stops short, glances around, spots Fedyor, and powers over with such single-minded determination that Fedyor fears he’s about to be arrested. “Hello,” he says curtly. “I am Ivan Ivanovich Sakharov. I believe you are waiting for me?”

“Ah – ? I am Fedyor Mikhailovich Kaminsky, yes,” he manages, offering a hand, which Ivan crushes in a Terminator grip. “It’s – nice to meet you?”

Ivan snorts, pulls out the other chair, and drapes his jacket over it, then orders a small plain coffee (black like his soul, evidently). Then he returns, sits down, and claps his hands as if he is calling a misbehaving class to attention. “Where are you from?” he barks. “How long have you lived in Moscow?!”

Fedyor continues to gape. He’s genuinely not sure if this is Ivan attempting to get to know him on speed-run, or if he’s being interrogated by a FSB agent who can’t even act for two seconds like he’s not. It’s ominously possible. Dmitry Medvedev is the president and there are hopes that there might be a social liberalization, but the Orthodox patriarchs and the far right have been increasingly agitating against Russia’s embattled LGBTQ community, and things could just as easily get worse. Is this a setup or a setup? Nadia would never knowingly put him in a dangerous situation, of course, but maybe she was likewise fooled. You’d think that if this was a sting, they could have found a guy who was actually capable of pretending to be on a date, but maybe that’s the point? What the hell is going on here?

Fedyor opens his mouth, then shuts it. As a matter of fact, he is originally from Nizhny Novgorod, but moved to Moscow for university and has lived here for seven years, but if Ivan is with the FSB, he probably already knows that. Is this a trick? Is Ivan trying to match him to some police intelligence file or see if he’s a liar? Fedyor is seriously about to get up and walk out (or maybe sprint out) when Ivan, perhaps realizing that he’s blowing this to a heretofore unprecedented degree, says, “Sorry. I am from Krasnoyarsk. I enjoy rugby.”

Of course he likes rugby if he’s from Krasnoyarsk. This is a disaster. “Uh, what side?”

“Krasny Yar,” says Ivan, in the tone of a man about to stand up and belt out the fight song. “I also enjoy football. Yenisey Krasnoyarsk. Though I have begun supporting Lokomotiv since I came to Moscow. That was five years ago.”

So, he’s definitely a hooligan. Fedyor does his best to keep smiling. In the flesh, Ivan is definitely not unattractive. His hair is crisp and brown, there are glints of hazel in his eyes, and he has that hard, chiseled handsomeness that Fedyor always ends up getting suckered into. Except for the fact that he is lively, extroverted, and outgoing, likes clubbing and mingling and making friends, and this man does not appear to have ever heard of a single one of those things. What was Nadia thinking? It’s not like her to whiff this badly. Or did she have to be so circumspect in asking Ivan if he would like to meet Fedyor that, even if he’s not an undercover cop, he is in fact clueless about the true nature of this social engagement? Thinks it’s guys being pals?

“Did you have somewhere you were coming from earlier?” Fedyor asks, after another excruciating silence. “Is that why you were – ?”

“My apologies. The bus was late. I am normally very punctual.” Ivan scowls ferociously, as if the bus ever dares to do such a thing again, he will personally murder it. “What hobbies do you enjoy, Fedyor Mikhailovich?”

“I think you can call me Fedyor, yes?” They are clearly nowhere near “Fedya” and “Vanya” just yet, but “Fedyor Mikhailovich” always makes Fedyor look around warily for his grumpiest professor at MSU. He tries to think of subtle conversational gambits to find out what Ivan knows, without being obvious. Oh God, he really should just cut his losses, but something – perhaps the pathetic conviction that even a terrible date is better than no date at all – keeps him in his seat. Presuming that he does get out of here alive, he will call up Nadia straightaway and ask her many, many questions, mostly consisting of Why??! “Well,” Fedyor says at last. “I like having fun?”

“I also enjoy fun,” Ivan says, stone-faced. “I am very funny.”

Russian humor is normally extremely deadpan, to the point that Fedyor does wonder if Ivan is in fact a diabolical troll genius, but somehow he doesn’t think so. The rest of the conversation proceeds in this fashion, but by the end of an hour, Fedyor still has no idea if he has just been on a date or a trip to the gulag. Ivan gets up, administers another bone-crushing handshake, thanks him for his time, and marches out. Fedyor can practically hear the Red Army Choir thundering some patriotic anthem in his wake.

When he gets home that afternoon, Fedyor is resolved to write off the whole thing, except it was weirdly kind of not as bad as he first thought, maybe, somehow. If nothing else, he’s fascinated by this, like watching a slow-motion train crash. He takes out his phone with the intention of calling Nadia, only to see a text message from an unfamiliar number. When he opens it, it reads, Hello. Your company was agreeable today. Thank you. Perhaps we could meet again next week. Please reply yes or no. The message uses the formal styles of address, and some of the spellings are slightly old-fashioned. He has also signed it – Иван Сахаров – in case there might be some confusion with another Ivan the Terrible at Dating of Fedyor’s recent acquaintance. It is a bit like getting a text from the undertaker.

Fedyor stares at it, insanely tempted to burst out laughing, and finally, just because now he’s too curious to refuse, texts back his gracious acceptance. Still chuckling, he makes dinner, and then, as his phone pings with Ivan’s response, wonders in horror what on earth he is getting himself into.

This is how things continue for the next six weeks. Ivan and Fedyor meet up for the second time, stroll sedately around one of Moscow’s many city parks together, then part ways, and this time it’s Fedyor’s turn to ask if he would like to do it again. He isn’t sure exactly why, except that Ivan is unexpectedly easy to spend time with, and he nods in stoic approval of whatever Fedyor says. Of course, they follow the usual rules of dating which are especially important in Russia: don’t talk about politics, don’t talk about religion, don’t talk about America, don’t talk about Ukraine, don’t talk about Chechnya. From what Fedyor can glean, Ivan’s views tend to the doctrinaire, but he is surprisingly undogmatic, and willing to at least act as if he has an open mind. If he was an FSB agent, it feels like he would have busted Fedyor by now, but maybe he is waiting for him to do something unmistakably gay. That’s not it. Right?

Nadia calls, wanting to know how it’s going, and Fedyor grills her for forty minutes over whether Ivan is a law enforcement plant, a lonely guy looking for a friend, the world’s most method practical joker, or just extremely stupid. Nadia insists that he is actually very nice once you get to know him (HA, thinks Fedyor) and has no particular affection for either the ruling classes or the oligarchs. He can certainly be an acquired taste, but he is not evil.

Forced to accept it, still chickening out of asking Ivan whether he knows they’re dating, wondering if they are dating, if Ivan knows that Fedyor knows they’re dating, if Fedyor only thinks he knows that they are dating while they are not actually dating, or if Ivan thinks he knows that they’re dating while they’re… whatever the fresh-fried fuck is truly happening here, Fedyor trudges off for what has become his almost-weekly rendezvous with Ivan the-Maybe-Not-Quite-So-Terrible. They manage to have a few conversations verging on meaningful, and Fedyor has found himself telling Ivan about his family and Nizhny Novgorod and other such things. Fedyor likes to talk and Ivan likes to listen, though he breaks in now and again with a bone-dry quip. He’s still never what you would call loquacious, or easily forthcoming, but Fedyor likes that. Ivan is tough, complex, enigmatic, guarded, occasionally willing to let down his walls but only if the other person is worth it, and Fedyor finds, to his surprise, that he wants to be worth it. If this is a long-con mind game, he almost doesn’t care. (Almost.)

The problem, however, is that they’ve been seeing each other regularly for a month and a half and they haven’t gotten any closer than walking through a park, outdoors, in full view of their fellow comrades. Even the first time Fedyor takes the plunge and invites Ivan to his apartment, they sit three feet apart on the couch, watching a badly-Russian-subtitled version of Die Hard and providing critical commentary. Fedyor’s English is a lot more fluent than Ivan’s, and his middle-class family, while not exactly wealthy, is definitely better off than Ivan’s hardscrabble clan of miners and loggers in Siberia. That upbringing certainly does explain, to some degree, why Ivan is the way he is, and Fedyor wonders anxiously if Ivan views him as an insufferably posh city boy. Ivan barely finished high school and went straight to working in a Krasnoyarsk aluminum factory. He definitely did not faff around Moscow State University and attend global development seminars in Paris.

Nonetheless, despite their obvious differences, they do get along, and Fedyor is unable to deny the fact that he would, if it’s all right with everyone, like it to be more than that. Of course, finding out if Ivan knows, etc. etc., has been the paramount challenge, and there is no way to find out other than to go for it. Fedyor is 75% sure that they’ve been going steady for two months, but if it’s actually the other 25%, this is going to get awkward in a hurry. Is this essentially a fake relationship, or is it only fake because they’re both idiots?

After having duly commended his soul to God, Fedyor invites Ivan over on Saturday night. He rents a tiny flat by himself since he’s been burned on rooming with strangers, but Ivan is used to it by now, and it doesn’t feel too small with the two of them. Fedyor strains his limited culinary skills to cook supper, probably making his babushka cluck her tongue and sigh in a judgmental fashion back in Nizhny Novgorod, and they sit down and eat in silence for five minutes. Then Fedyor says, “Vanya?”

The consistent use of the diminutive has started sometime in the last few weeks, neither of them remember quite when. Ivan doesn’t correct him. “Yes?”

Fedyor clears his throat. “Do you…” He winces. “Do you… like me?”

“Yes?” Ivan says again, looking confused. “I would not have spent so much time with you if I did not, don’t you think? We are friends.”

“Yes, I know that we’re friends, but…” Fedyor looks at the ceiling. It doesn’t help, so he looks back at Ivan. “Are we… special friends?”

Ivan continues to look blank. “Are we?”

Fedyor resists the urge to tug at his collar, thinking that it’s a damn good thing that he didn’t go with his other idea of just leaning across the table and passionately kissing him. With absolutely no change of tone or expression, Ivan says, “Please explain. Special friends how?”

“Friends who want to…” Fedyor takes a deep breath. “Be… more than friends?”

“How?” Ivan orders again, ruthlessly. “Be clear, Fedya.”

“Are we maybe… boyfriends?” Fedyor’s voice squeaks on the word. “As in… we have feelings for each other that aren’t just… friendly? Like… feelings which are… romantic?”

Ivan continues to stare at him like a statue for several more seconds, and Fedyor contemplates the feasibility of tunneling directly through the floor of his apartment and running all the way to Latvia. Then at last, Ivan throws his head back and – startling Fedyor deeply – breaks into real, genuine, belly laughter, the kind that he has never heard from Ivan before. “Oh my,” he chortles, slapping the table. “Your face. You were sweating bullets.”

“WAIT, WHAT!?!” Fedyor pushes his chair back and stands up with a clatter, incandescently outraged. “Are you – were you messing with me?!!”

“Maybe a little,” Ivan says, wiping his eyes. “You know, all this time, I have not been sure if you are shy or a terrible prude. Why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

“God’s Mother in Heaven – ” Fedyor feels another prick of disloyalty to his babushka for swearing on the Bogomater, but some people deserve it. All inhibitions forgotten, he charges at Ivan like a runaway train, as Ivan springs out of his own chair in readiness, and starts pounding on his chest in transports of fury. “You are the worst! You are the worst person ever! For two months, what have we been doing?! I have been afraid this whole time that maybe you don’t know what’s really going on, and now – ?! You are the worst!”

Ivan catches Fedyor’s flailing arms, holds them away from him, and picks him up bodily, swinging him around and pushing him against the wall. “Maybe I am just a dumb country boy from Siberia,” he remarks, “but even I am not that stupid, Fedyor Mikhailovich.”

“I hate you,” Fedyor pants, their faces and their mouths an inch away from each other. “Get out of my apartment.”

“Mmm?” Ivan cocks an eyebrow. Then he plants both hands on either side of Fedyor’s head, leans in, and deeply, savagely captures Fedyor’s mouth with his own.

Every remaining vestige of barely rational thought in Fedyor’s head evaporates in screaming shock. He still wants to shove Ivan away, knee him in the balls, or break a chair over his head, but if he did that, he would have to stop kissing him, and he can’t do that either. He moans, Ivan’s tongue takes the opportunity to slip into his mouth, their hands clutch and claw and their legs melt out from under them, they turn away or break contact only to gulp a breath before diving back in again, and the next time Fedyor is aware of anything, they have collapsed on his kitchen floor in a wrung-out, entangled, gasping heap. Ivan says in his ear, “Do you still want me to leave, Fedya?”

“No,” Fedyor manages. “Because now, I am really going to make you suffer.”

Ivan’s smile is dark and full of promise. He pulls back, gets to his feet, and holds out a hand. “Then I’ll meet you in the bedroom.”

(Ivan doesn’t leave Fedyor’s apartment that night. He doesn’t leave it the next night either. At the end of the week, Fedyor calls up Nadia and informs her that he hates her so much, and when they do next see each other, he’ll shake her by both shoulders and then thank her for introducing him to the no-good, truly awful, very bad love of his life.)

[ggukkiedae]

notes: this is like a small look into hannah’s past and why she doesn’t like promises, is scared of meeting new people, and is usually advised against shouting. im putting this up now so people can understand how she reacts to certain things a little more

WARNINGS: deals with domestic abuse and possible signs of ptsd and anxiety. if these make you uncomfortable or trigger you in any way, please don’t read this.

2006 || London, England

“Please stop.”

Hannah could only stare wide-eyed as she watched her parents’ conversation slowly go from calm and collected to a shouting match. Neither of them heard her plea, and all she could do was gasp and run away when she saw the first strike. She ran straight to her room, not wanting to see her mom get hurt. She hid under her covers to try and drown out what she just saw. Unfortunately, she forgot to lock her door in her rush.

Her door creaked open.

She could only hold her breath in hopes that no one could tell that she was there. She felt the bed dip and the blanket being lifted off of her. She saw her father’s stern face.

“Why did you do that?” she whispered.

He only shook his head. He reached forward to caress her face, but she flinched away from him and backed into her bed frame.

“Hey, relax,” he told her. “I won’t hurt you. I’ll never hurt you. I promise.”

She didn’t like that he only promised that to her. She wanted him to promise that to her mom, too, but she got nothing.

2010 || Newcastle, England

The arguing didn’t stop.

No, it just got worse. She saw the verbal attacks, but her father somehow managed to never make her witness anything physical. She knew it was happening, though. Sure, she was a child, but she was very observant for her age. She could see the dark colors appearing on her mother’s skin as well as the red marks and some scars. She didn’t like it at all. She wanted to tell someone about it, but her mom told her not to.

As long as he isn’t hurting you, she had said. Hannah could only roll her eyes at the thought. That was the only thing that didn’t change about her father. He never hurt her. At least, not in the way he hurt her mother.

Hannah didn’t want to go downstairs. Her father had a few people over, and they were all drinking. She had already accidentally dropped a few glasses earlier in a rush to help them to get to her room as fast as possible. She didn’t miss the angry look on her father’s eyes.

She made a mistake.

In the midst of her thinking, the small get together ended, and her father had stormed up to her room.

“You,” he spat out as soon as he opened the door to her room. She sat up alert. “What were you thinking? You broke the glasses? You made a terrible impression on my co-workers. Is that what you wanted? I provided for you, and you embarrass me in front of them. This isn’t how I raised you!”

“You didn’t,” she glared at him. “Mom raised me.”

Her head snapped to the side.

Hannah slowly raised a hand to her cheek, a stinging sensation residing on what she was sure was a red handprint on her face. She slowly turned back to face him, fear eating her up.

“You aren’t worthy of being called my daughter,” he scowled at her. “How can I tell anyone you’re my daughter when you’re an embarrassment? All you do is make mistakes, and I’m sick of dealing with you.”

Each word struck Hannah like a cold dagger in the neck. She could see a malicious glint in his eyes as if he enjoyed seeing her in fear. He raised his hand at her once again, but she got up and ran. She ran out of her house and to the nearby lake to hide from her father. No.

That’s not the father she knew when she was younger.

2015 || Seoul, South Korea

She trusts him.

Donghyuck did not let that thought go so easily. After everything that went down with the new dance teacher, Hannah told him everything. He hated how a person who she loved and used to love her could end up hurting her like that.

It was when she was sitting next to him in the emergency staircase, head on his shoulder and tears coming down her face after explaining everything, when he swore to himself that he’d never let anyone hurt her or even scare her like that.

Never again.