#the same stories that NEED to be told because the victims are too afraid to speak up about it

[shippingfangirl013]

Can the big tv companies just pay their writers? Because they deserve everything for helping to create some of my favorite shows? (And Netflix & the other big streaming platforms/broadcasting channels would be nothing without the writers & their originality?)

[shadowandlightt]

Of Nightmares and Memories | Fourteen| Azriel X Rhys' Little Sister! Reader

Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Talks of death.

A/N: SO a lot of feelings in this one. I hope you guys like it, I'm really getting excited about where this story is about to go.

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve Part Thirteen

When you wake up hours later, the sun is high in the sky. The first thing you notice is that you aren’t in Az’s room anymore. But instead you’re in the room that you grew up in. You haven't been in this room since you came back. In fact, you’d been too afraid to come up here. Too afraid of the memories it would bring. 

“Az?” You question, looking around the room to find it empty. 

He was gone. No trace of his shadows, even your own that floated about the room seemed to want nothing to do with you. You screwed it all up this time. You used him, Gods, you should never have taken him to bed. That shouldn’t have been your first time with him. That wasn’t how that was meant to go. 

Tears blur your vision as you bury your head back into your pillow and begin to sob. You can’t help the tears, can’t do anything to try to stop them. You don’t want to. You need to feel the pain, because you can only imagine how Azriel felt. How used he must’ve felt, knowing you were only there for a distraction. 

You loved him, so much. But all you could think of last night was not feeling everything else. Then you were so consumed by the feeling of him, that you forgot to feel about him. You felt dirty, so fucking dirty that you wanted to scrub every inch of your skin raw. But you couldn’t bring  yourself to get out of the bed. So you didn’t.

You stayed in bed for the eternity of the day. You didn’t move, opting to stare at the wall instead, feeling everything and at the same time feeling nothing. 

The following day, when you finally dragged yourself from your rooms, you were confronted by Rhys, who had nothing but worry in his eyes. You nearly broke down into tears again at  the sight. For so many years, you never thought you’d see him again. You never thought you’d have him hold you, and comfort you, even if you didn’t deserve his comfort. 

“Take me back to the townhouse,” You cry into his shoulder, “I can’t stay here.” 

“Okay,” He whispers into your dark hair, followed by the sound of his wings unfurling. 

You hold your breath as he shoots to the sky, being as gentle as possible. Azirel must have told him that you had some sort of reaction from flying. So when you land on the rooftop of the Townhouse, you can’t help but vomit into a nearby plant. You heave and heave until there’s nothing left in your stomach. 

“Are you alright?” Rhys asks as he holds your hair back. 

You can only shake your head, feeling the scars on your back burn again. You fall to the ground, Rhys’ arms still holding you as you begin to cry. You sob again, feeling the weight of the world that you now live in. The world without your mother, and even your father. The world in which you were the reason your mother died, because you didn't fight hard enough to save her. 

“I didn’t fight,” You sob uncontrollably, twisting to bury your head in his shoulder once more. 

He smelled like her, and like your father at the same time. Jasmine, like her, and pure night like him. It made you cry even harder. Made you miss them even more. Made your heart break just a little further. 

“Shh,” He whispers, “You did your best.” 

How he knew what you were talking about, you don’t know. Maybe your mind was wide open for him to read. But you couldn't feel him there. Maybe he just knew you better than you thought, even after all of these years. 

“You were a mere child, Y/N, I’m not sure I could’ve done anything differently at your age,” He admits, “No one blames you for what happened. You were a victim, not a cause.” 

Your head shakes without permission. You hear what he’s saying, but you can’t believe it. You won’t allow yourself to believe it. So instead you cry and cry, without the energy to fight with him it’s all you can do. 

Eventually you make your way to the room that’s now been designated as yours, and hide in the bed once more. It’s all you can do. All you have the energy for. Rhys pokes his head in and checks on you before dinner. The twin wraiths leave a plate at the foot of your bed, but you can’t bring yourself to eat. 

All you want is Azriel, but you don’t deserve him. Not after how you used him. Not after what you took from him. Even carrying the weight of your mother’s death, you’ve never felt as guilty as you do thinking about what you did to Az. 

You aren’t sure how much time passed before Mor is barging into your room and clinging your curtains open, “Enough is enough.” 

“Go away,” You moan, turning away from the windows. 

“You aren’t allowed to sulk here any longer. Rhys might be content to let you wither away, but I will not.”

“Leave me alone, Mor.” 

“I won’t pretend to know what the devil happened between you and Az, because you seemed to be coming back to all of us before whatever it was ... but it’s time to move on.” 

“I’m happy staying here.” 

“Don’t make me get Cassian.” 

Her warning made you gingerly sit up, muscles screaming in protest due to not being used in so long. You were allowing yourself to become even weaker, something you swore you wouldn’t do. 

“Talk to me,” Mor begged, “Let me in…let someone in. Don’t keep locking yourself away, both physically and metaphorically.” 

“I don’t know how anymore,” You admit to her, “I don’t know how to be anymore.” 

“What happened between you and Az?” She asked softly, “I won’t tell anyone.” 

You shake your head, unable to put it into words.Cassian was probably the only other one who knew, unless Az shared with Rhys, so he could understand why you were the way that you were.

“I slept with him,” You whisper, “I used him for sex. And it felt so good. But then when I woke up and realized what I had done...I couldn’t face him.” 

There’s silence for a moment, before Mor wraps you in her strong arms. She smooths your hair down, and strokes you back, like a mother comforting her child. It brings tears to your eyes once more. 

“Az wouldn’t have done it if he didn’t want to,” She confirms, “You did nothing.” 

“Our first time shouldn’t have been because I was looking for a distraction,” You cry out. 

She continues to hold you, trying her best to soothe you as you work through everything in your head. You tell her about how flying made you feel, and how you needed a distraction and the only thing you could think of was Azriel. You told her about how you and Lucien used to use one another in that way, back when you were being held in Spring. How you were the first person he’d been with since his brothers held him down as they killed his love in front of him. 

You told her everything. The words flowing out before you could stop them. What you couldn’t put into words you showed her in her mind, so she could understand. She sat in silence and let you talk until you had no words left, and then she did something you hadn’t expected. 

“It’s time to forgive yourself,” She says carefully, “None of that was your fault. You’ve heard us say it before, but really hear me now, Y/N, you know what my power is. So you know I speak the truth, it was not your fault. You did what you had to do in order to survive, the same thing Rhys did under the mountain. You are blameless.” 

“But I-” 

“Your mother wouldn’t want you to live like this,” She states, “So if you’re going to do anything, live. Live for her, because you and Rhys are all that is left of her.” 

You feel something in your chest as you notice a shadow dancing in the corner of the room. It wasn’t one of yours, you realized with a pang in your chest. He was checking on you…even after what you did. He was making sure you were okay. 

“Have you talked to him?” You question, nodding over to the shadow. 

“He wanted to give you the space you needed to figure things out,” She nods, “Not because he doesn’t want to be around you, but because he thought you didn’t want him near.” 

“I always want him near,” You sniff, wiping away your tears. 

“I’ll be sure to tell him that when I see him,” She smiles brightly at you, “Now, let’s get you dressed. The twins made quite the spread downstairs and Feyre and I cannot eat it all alone.” 

“Where’s Rhys?” 

“With Amren, trying to help decode the book.”

You nod and force yourself to stand, the shadow now curling around your ankle in an attempt to get closer to you. Like it knew you wanted Azriel near, but his shadows were the next best thing. You wanted to ask where he was, but didn’t want to know at the same time. You knew he was working his network of spies hard. 

So you eat with Feyre and Mor, laughing about the random stories Mor seemed to come up with over the course of the meal. And once it was over? You didn’t retreat to your rooms. Instead you found yourself on the terrace soaking up the last few rays of sunlight left of the day. Your head was tilted up towards the sky as your eyes were closed. 

You can feel a presence behind you, but you can also feel shadows lapping at your feet. You hesitantly smile and open your eyes, “Are you going to sit?” 

“I didn’t know if you’d want me to.” 

“I figured your shadows would’ve told you differently by now,” You try to make your tone light and teasing, even as you feel nothing but anxiety bubbling in your chest. 

“They did,” He confirms, “But still.” 

You motion to the seat next to you, scooting over slightly to make room for his wings. Those big beautiful wings that even you didn’t touch that night. Truthfully you weren’t sure if he would’ve let you touch them. 

“Do you regret it?” He asks you suddenly. 

You turn to look at him, golden skin glowing in the late day sun. He looked beautiful. He always did. How could you even think about regretting him? Azriel was like your heart walking outside of your body. The missing piece of your soul. You could never ever regret being anything with him. 

“No,” You say quickly, “No Az. I could never regret you.” 

“I just thought-” 

“I regret how it happened,” You admit, “I regret that I used you as a distraction, but I could never regret you.”

His head is bowed low as he nods. You know him well enough to know that his own need to prove himself, to be wanted, is showing through. You’re both broken, in more ways than one. He spent twelve years in captivity, not being shown an ounce of love. You now know what that's like. You know what it can do to a person. 

So, you get up and slide into his lap, gently tilting his chin up so he’ll look at you, “Azriel, I will never regret anything with you. You’re my heart.”

There’s a hint of a smile on his lips. It makes you smile as you lean down to kiss him. Really kiss him, softly and slowly. His hands hold onto your hips, holding you in place as he kisses you back. You can feel pieces of your heart slowly coming back together, like he’s the glue you needed. 

“I don’t want space,” You whisper against his lips, “Not from you. Never from you.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind, princess.” 

You stayed with him up on the terrace until the sun was long gone and the stars shone in the sky. You kissed him until your lips were swollen and bruised, but you didn’t care. Being in his arms felt better than any drug ever could. Mor was right, it was time to forgive yourself for everything that happened. 

“I’m sorry,” You finally speak, “For making you feel like I regretted you. For making you feel alone.” 

“I’m sorry for leaving you alone,” He sighs, “Can you forgive me?” 

“There’s nothing to forgive,” You shake your head, “Now come, I’m hungry and smell dinner downstairs.” 

He barks out a laugh and stands once you’re off of his lap, leaning down to peck your lips once more. The simple action leaves you feeling warm all over. Leaves you wanting more from him. But you also know now is not the time. So instead you lead him downstairs and into the dining room where the rest of your family is gathered. 

“There they are,” Cassian all but shouts, “We were wondering if you were going to join us!” 

“Leave them be, Cas,” Mor scolds him before turning and winking at you. 

Rhys is nearly beaming, and Feyre is smiling sweetly at you. You take a deep breath and find your place at the table, next to Azriel, like it’s always been. The conversation flows easily as you all eat. You find yourself laughing alongside Cassian, who’s more or less howling at one point. You feel normal again, your chest doesn’t feel empty. 

“We leave in the morning,” Rhys finally says, stopping the laughter. 

“For what?” You ask, feeling very much out of the loop. 

“The Mortal Queens have agreed to meet with us,” He explains, “You’re more than welcome to join us.”

You find yourself shaking your head before you speak, “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“Are you sure?” Az asked you, “You won’t be an imposition.” 

“No,” You say again, a little stronger this time, “I think the best thing for me to do is to stay here in Velaris.” 

“Okay,” Rhys relented, “We should be back tomorrow night, at the latest. Hopefully the Queens don’t keep us waiting.” 

So you see them off in the morning and then pace around the house whilst you wait for them to return. Amren, being the only one who can possibly translate the book, is busy trying to do just that. So you pace, and pace, and pace. No doubt wearing down the luxurious carpet in the townhouse. But you can’t find it in yourself to care. You know, more than likely, that no harm will come to them. But you still can’t help but worry. 

You finally settle on the couch after an hour or so, and must drift off because you don’t hear them when they come back. You don’t hear the hushed conversation, recounting everything that happened. No, you only stir when Azriel gently brushes your cheek and whispers your name. 

Instantly your eyes fly open and you surge forward to hold him. He lets out a little laugh, holding you back, tucking his face into your dark hair. 

“I was only gone a few hours,” He says softly, arms tightening around you. 

“She was worried,” Rhys fills in for him, “Which she shouldn’t have been, it was just a meeting.” 

You shake your head, and place a kiss on Azriel’s neck before pulling back and giving your brother a crude gesture. He barks out a laugh before motioning for you to follow him outside. You look to Az who just nods, and moves to help you stand from the floor that you’d ended up on. 

“We need to talk,” Rhys said calmly. 

You nod and follow him outside, feeling panic well up in your gut. Something happened, something that would change the course of the war. You could feel it. 

“We have to go to the Court of Nightmares,” He says once you’re in the courtyard, “I told you that I wouldn’t leave you out of this. And as much as I wish she wouldn’t, Feyre is coming, so you have a decision to make. You may come, and play the part, or you can stay here and they’ll know nothing different.” 

“Why are you going?” 

So he explains, putting an emphasis on needing a distraction. And as much as it makes you sick to your stomach to think about going back there, after so many years, and playing the part of the cruel princess that you played all of those years in spring…you knew you needed to go. 

“If you need a distraction, then you really will need me,” You admit to him, “I’m unwed and unmated, from the most powerful line in our history. If Mor was the top of the market, imagine what I’ll be. No male will be paying attention to what anyone else is doing.” 

“I don’t want to put you in that position,” He shakes his head. 

“You aren’t putting me in any position,” You argued, “I’m offering. I won’t sit idly by and let others fight this war for me. If this is what I can do to help, then so be it.” 

“Azriel won’t like it.” 

“I won’t like it either, but I’ll do it. For our family, I’d do anything.”  

Tag List

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[helluva-insomniac]

Headcannons for Hazbin Hotel characters pt. 1

Aaaaaah it’s coming out in January!!!!!

Charlie-

She moved out the second she could, not to get away from her parents but to be on her own

Her favorite holiday is Halloween, once the humans started giving out candy she was ALL for it

If she has nowhere to squeal or put her energy she stims with her hands like crazy

She gets a stutter when she’s nervous

Her favorite color is green

She’s VERY smart with knowing where to put her power, barely using it unless she really wants something or her people are in serious danger

Vaggie-

Charlie found her almost immediately after she fell, and Charlie is the only one who knows her full story

She refuses to admit her favorite color is red because “we’re in hell, vaggie, everything is red”

Is lactose intolerant

She can play the violin really well

Before even Angel got to the hotel, she made weird noises and sang a lot when going through the halls, but that stopped real quick as soon as people started coming to the hotel

Angel-

Oh boy can he not do taxes!! The mafia never paid them so when he first got out he almost went to jail twice

He started smoking at like 12 as was the norm in his time

When he was little and his mother had just died, the times his dad and brother were forced to take him somewhere, he always stood right next to them unmoving but if he so much as looked in the wrong direction his father would roughly squeeze his arm and although Arackniss was encouraged to do the same, he was a lot more gentle

He never once in his life or death ate ice cream, claiming that it was “off brand gelato” and “I refuse to be westernized, Charlie”

Was DEFINITELY nicknamed Tony

Alastor-

This one has been headcannon’d so much it’s basically cannon, but he’s REALLY good at cooking

Frequently plays games like boggle with his shadow, somehow he always comes so close to winning but never does

Along with that, he organized a bi-weekly game night at the hotel (his shadow is not allowed to participate. Alastor wins)

He always smiles because his mother told him to, but also because the first time he killed someone he was so out of it that his only response was laughter, and that’s the only reaction he had to killing people after that

Requested the largest and best suite in the hotel, but he almost never uses it because he doesn’t need to sleep and he has his radio tower. Unfortunately, he has to start using it because Vaggie threatened him the hotel actually took off

He bites. That’s why he has the 5 foot rule, and sometimes Angel tries to see how close he can get to Alastor before being bitten, and for some reason Angel never gets bitten? (It’s because Alastor is too smart for that bs and it’s safer to not respond to Angel’s dumbassery, lest he fall victim to the spider’s sexual advances)

He goes golfing !!!

Husk-

Doesn’t even have a hotel room cause he just passes out everywhere

Will never admit it but he sees Niffty as a kid sister

He pretends to be uninterested in whatever convos going on at his bar but he totally listens in and loves gossip (he gossips with Niffty 110% of the time they’re around each other)

Angel sometimes puts aluminum foil on things because he’s bored, and Husk claims not to be afraid of it because he’s a PERSON not a cat but totally jumps out of his fur and gets v scared of it. He hates it

He hates spiders

Niffty-

Gossips with ANYONE and everyone

Is only in Hell because she was cleaning up after a crime (that was her job)

Her only friends were men because they were her employers

[deathsbestgirl]

thinking about how i said once that maggie & melissa probably told scully about how mulder was when she was gone...and i don't think that's completely right actually.

mulder & scully don't talk about those things. when they have serious conversations, it's so indirect. they're much more comfortable discussing the work, sharing some facts & stories. they trust each other, but feelings are still dangerous territory. how important they are to each other, well they know. the longer they're together, the less they can deny it. and by the cancer arc, scully knows what losing her would do to him.

but it isn't because maggie & melissa told her anything. they may have hinted, but i think maggie largely stays out of her children's affairs. she lets things happen, and she's there when they come to her. and i think she knows pushing scully is not the way to go. maggie knows dana, and she will always move at her own pace, make her own choices, share what she chooses to share. and melissa...while i could see her butting in much more than maggie, i don't think what she would divulge to scully would be detailed either. like. i can imagine her telling scully how he was in a dark place, she could see it in his aura, or how hard it was to get through to him but because of what scully "told" her about him, she knew he would do the right thing in the end. it would be very melissa oriented information.

this is something scully would already understand. mulder has never given up on samantha, he doesn't give up on any of the victims of their cases until he sees a body. she knows how mulder is. and he's let on that she is important to him. 'i still have my work. and i still have you' — which to me, is putting her on at least the same level.

when she's back, she knows how it affects him because mulder tries to stop her going on the firewalker case. it's similar to beyond the sea where he showed concern for her personal wellbeing, and she's already told him she wouldn't put herself on the line for anyone but him, that she trusts only him and he returned the sentiment. scully dragged him out of his depression after losing the files. meeting with him clandestinely, helping him with cases. she didn't let him wallow & drown. scully knows he did everything he could to save her, and to find her.

and it's reinforced over and over again. in firewalker, irresistible, paper clip, pusher, memento mori, demons.

i've said that scully was so concerned in little green men when he didn't see her because he always sees her. she always sees him too. they both pay so much attention to the other. she doesn't need anyone to tell her about mulder. she doesn't have to ask. and that's something i think maggie & melissa could see. if they told scully anything, it was of their own volition, not prompted by scully. the end hospital scene in one breath said it all. mulder had a silly gift for her, and only returned scully's necklace to her when she tells him "i had the strength of your beliefs." scully heard what he said to her when she was in a coma. about belief. she remembers telling him she's afraid to believe. she knows he wants to believe. it's why she came back in the first place.

[herbeloved82]

Safety in red

Soft and warm. 

Those were the first two recognizable words that formed in Daniel’s mind. Among the turmoil of emotions and the lingering terror, buried by incommensurable pain and despair, his mind was still there, broken, shattered to pieces, and yet somehow able to understand words. 

Safe, he felt safe for the first time in years, since Armand’s obsession began, since he was forced to run away, knowing that at the end Armand would catch him, that the life he knew was over the moment the old vampire decided he was going to be his new pet, his new victim. 

Another lie, one of the many Armand told. The oldest vampire in existence, and yet he was barely a baby compared to those who awoke; Akasha, compared to her children, both in the blood and flesh had seen nearly all of human history. And yet, back then both he and Louis had believed Armand, because there was nothing else they could do, and Armand had a way with words. He could twist them so beautifully, to sell you dreams that were, in truth, nightmares and even make you believe it was what you really wanted, what you needed to be happy. 

Happiness. Daniel didn’t know if he remembered the meaning of that word anymore. He had loved the sound of it, he had thought he knew what it meant to be happy. He was happy behind his typewriter, with the soothing and rhythmic sound of creating stories filling the room around him. 

Another thing that Armand took from him. Since he began to run, Daniel never had time to sit down and write, always too worried to focus, always watching behind his back, in fear that he would be there, and yet Armand always managed to catch him by surprise. He only appeared when Daniel was too tired to keep going, too tired to hide in the most deranged buildings in cities he had never visited before. 

It was when he began to use drugs to keep himself numb, to stop the pain from destroying him. When his fingers tingled with the need to write and all he could do was to scream and curse the moment he had met Louis and let the madness engulf him, that had been the first time he pushed a needle in his veins. For a long moment nothing else mattered but the numbness of his mind, the artificial peace he found in the chemical invading his body. 

And yet, soon enough, it hadn’t been enough anymore. Armand made sure of that. The sigh that left his throat was the noise of a wounded beast, full of agony and anguish. He was still trapped, after so much running, so much hiding, after turning himself into a junkie and being turned into a whore by someone who claimed to love him, he was still trapped. This time trapped in a life he didn’t want, for an eternity he didn’t know how to navigate. 

The ruffle of clothes reached for his ears as a gentle and yet powerful hand cursed in his hair, anchoring Daniel. He could feel it, in the thick fog that tapped his mind in this constant nightmare, he knew something was securing what little was left of him. 

Daniel was sure that without that sovereign touch he would fly away, like a kite taken by the wind, never to be found again. 

“You’re safe, young one.” A deep voice said. 

Daniel was pretty sure he knew that voice, and yet he couldn’t remember the man who was with him, he only knew he wasn’t afraid of him. 

“Rest and heal, knowing that you are not alone.” The voice kept saying, and little by little Daniel began to relax. 

Was this man using the mind gift, like Armand did? Was he a prisoner, now belonging to another master? He knew the thought should have worried him, pushed him into action and yet he didn’t move. To go where? A part of his mind wondered. He had nothing left. His family was gone, his life was gone, everything that made him the man he was before was gone and he could never get it back. 

However, that wasn’t all. There was another reason why he didn’t run, the same feeling of safety he felt before. That was what calmed his racing heart. 

It was then, when Daniel’s body began to relax and the tension faded away from his muscles that the man moved, or tried to. 

Daniel grabbed at what he could reach, unaware of his new strength. He tore apart the fabric, piercing it with his claws and yet the man didn’t rage, his only reaction was a light chuckle. 

“Be careful my dear, or my wardrobe won’t survive.” 

Why wasn’t he mad? The soft cloth in his fist felt soft and of good quality, so why wasn’t the man furious he ruined it? 

Once again terror awoke in his tormented mind, pushing Daniel back down, forcing him into nothingness so that the punishment couldn’t destroy him, how could it, as he was no more, for nothing of him survived Armand and the turning? 

He whimpered when strong arms scooped him, and tried to wiggle away, but the man was too strong and Daniel so tired, he gave up. He would let this man do anything he wanted to him, for he already survived what men demanded from him, and if this man was the reason for his ultimate destruction, maybe he could find peace in the afterlife.

That said, the man only carried him in his arms, and the more Daniel was secure in those arms, the more he began to relax again. He never knew if it was because he accepted his fate or because deep down, he already knew he would never be safer in his life but in those strong arms, made to protect. 

“My name is Marius, dear one, and I promise you, you’re safe with me.” 

Despite everything that happened to him and the fact Daniel didn’t have a reason to trust Marius, he decided to risk, for he didn’t have anything else to lose, and that morning, when the call of the sun became impossible to resist and the world around him faded into darkness, Daniel scooted closer Mariu’s body and rested in his arms. 

The last thing he remembered was a sea of velvet, as red as blood, surrounding him, lulling him into sleep and safety.  End

[devilmen-collector]

Lore about my MC #1

When Klein and Minhyeok were kids, they had a classmate named Dexter. Dexter was handsome and was admired by many girls in class. Dexter also had charisma that many boys in class followed him.

It just so happened that the teacher assigned Dexter's seat next to Klein. While Minhyeok was assigned a seat on the other side of the class.

And Dexter verbally abused Klein.

Dexter said things like "You're fat like a pig" or "Did you not shower yesterday, you smell like stable?" to Klein when they were sitting together (Klein wasn't fat nor he was smelly like Dexter said)

Klein was an introvert and he chose to keep things to himself, suffering alone.

Minhyeok discovered what were happening to Klein when he overheard Dexter talk to his friends.

Min threw a punch at Dexter's face. Afterwards, both of their parents were asked to have a meeting with the principal and their homeroom teacher.

Minhyeok recounted the story to everyone truthfully. Klein and his parents were invited to the meeting right after to prove Min's story. It was only at that time that Klein told his parents and teachers everything.

Dexter was punished, but his punishments were no more than writing a paper saying that he had regretted his words and actions and a few scoldings from his parents.

The next day, Klein was moved to the seat next to Minhyeok, but Dexter was still in the same class as them. They never talked to each other but Dexter still haunted Klein for years.

Years later, Klein decided to embark on the path of an Evil Overlord. He decided that the first thing he needed to do was killing Dexter.

Klein killed Dexter and heavily mutilated his body when Dexter went to the bathroom of a party. The future Overlord cremated the victim's body on site, causing a massive fire that destroyed the party.

Klein was questioned about the event but there was no direct evidence pointing to him, so police's suspicion on him was dropped. The case became forever unsolved. The only one who ever knew the truth was Minhyeok to whom Klein confided this matter.

Even though Dexter was dead, the awful childhood memories still has an effect on Klein.

Klein developed an insecurity about his body and his smell. He started to seek to look and smell perfect whenever he's out of the house (i.e. his comfort space)

Klein's clothes must have good quality and must look good on him. They must not be too tight because Klein's afraid he would look fat in them.

Klein also uses a lot of deodorant. At least 2-3 different kinds of deodorant are used whenever Klein goes out. The Evil Overlord also generally avoids activities that made him sweat because he afraid his body would have unpleasant smell.

Until meeting his harem devils, aside from Min and his family, Klein doesn't want anyone else to come close to him. The main reason is because he fears they could smell something unpleasant on him if they are too close.

T^T

[residents-of-the-darkforest]

Dark Forest Residences: Ivoryburn & Applepaw

Ivoryburn

Aliases / Nicknames: Starclan’s Claws, Dark Leader, Liar

Gender: she-cat

Sexuality: pansexual, grey-panromantic

Family: unnamed mother, unnamed father, several unnamed littermates

Other Relations: unnamed mentor, two unnamed apprentices

Clan: Windclan

Rank: deputy, temporary leader

Characteristics: truly believes in what she does

Murder Motive: allows Starclan to take those who are undeserving

Number of Victims: 16

Number of Murders: 12

Murder Method: clawing and biting, then allowing those wounds to go infected

Known Victims: Emberpaw, Cricketpaw, Breezepaw, Applepaw, several unnamed warriors

Victim Profile: those she saw as unworthy or who needed to prove themself

Cause of Death: throat torn out by Kitewillow

Cautionary Tale: ??

Story:

She first got the idea as a young apprrentice. Her denmate, poor Beechpaw, whispered to her that her father had clawed her. She explained that he wanted Starclan to heal her without the help of herbs, and if she doesn’t get sick, then it is proof they hold her in favour.

Beechpaw passed that same moon. Ivorypaw was upset, to be sure. But she was thinking. What if Beechpaw really was unworthy? She wasn’t the most polite cat in the Clan, maybe the laziest. 

It didn’t help that both of her parents and mentor held the Stars in extremely high favour, deeming anything against the code intolerable. 

When she became the deputy, she knew it must be that Starclan knew the ideas that had been brewing in her mind since her training days. They wanted her to take charge. To implement a new law and set the foolish ones in line.

She didn’t even have to wait until leadership. Her leader, Dewstar, had gotten incredibly sick. 

Ivoryburn knew not to start things suddenly. So she did it slow. Rules gradually became more strict. Cats could talk about certain things and not others, then less of others.

Finally, she could do it. She had heard Emberpaw talk badly about Chickpaw, an apprentice who happened to be Ivoryburn’s niece, and so Ivoryburn whirled around and clawed Emberpaw across the cheek. It was unplanned, but it provided the perfect opportunity. 

She claimed to the shocked Clan that the action had not come from her, simply Starclan guiding her claws. She told the medicine cat, who had rushed over, to leave Emberpaw alone. She had made her choice to badmouth a Clanmate and place her loyalty in question. Starclan is strong. If they want her to heal, she will heal, herbs or no herbs.

Ivoryburn believed it, too. She was the vessel for Starclan to take care of the heretics and code-breakers. Perhaps that is why it was so easy to convince her Clanmates. They weren’t happy, which came to no surprise, but what did surprise her was the supporters. 

She failed to notice how afraid everyone became. They were being respectful, keeping their distance. Or perhaps because of how many cats died, they realized how many cats Starclan deemed unworthy were among them.

Because of this, she kept mostly with her supporters. They agreed with her ways and defended them, even kept one eye on their Clanmates to report back to her. 

But one night, when she was snoring in the Warriors’ den, she realized that not all of those supporters had been true to their word. 

Applepaw

Aliases / Nicknames: Weakling, Foolish Apprentice

Gender: tom

Sexuality: bisexual, demiromantic

Family: Kitewillow (mother), unnamed father, Emberpaw (sister)

Other Relations: unnamed mentor, Haremaw (Dark Forest mentor)

Clan: Windclan

Rank: apprentice

Characteristics: only wants to prove himself and survive

Motive to Harm: survival

Number of Victims: N/A

Number of Murders: N/A

Murder Method: N/A

Method of Harm: training in the Dark Forest

Known Victims: N/A

Victim Profile: N/A

Cause of Death: drowned, killed by Haremaw

Cautionary Tale: ??

Story:

It seemed so fast that everything so horribly turned upside down for Applepaw. He was a bright apprentice who looked forward to his future and played with his equally excited sister.

Then she was gone. Even if she had been laying in her nest, unable to move for a quarter-moon, it felt so sudden. 

Applepaw knew that every eye was on him, was on everyone else. Before he enjoyed pulling jokes on others that weren’t quite pranks and would make them laugh with him. He would try to sneak the biggest prey from the pile, he would hide behind a tree stump to avoid chores.

But now he was terrified. He had watched his sister moan and struggle to breathe for days on end. 

Then he watched as the same thing happened to his best friend, Cricketpaw.

Then their mutual friend, Breezepaw.

Applepaw had to do everything right.

He had to clean the nests so that every strand of fern and moss were fresh and soft. He had to go to his den early and wake up early. He had to catch at least twice as much as the average apprentice normally would. He could never say anything that wasn’t about making the Clan better. Or else he could be the next one wriggling in the nest, denied by Starclan. 

He had even tore his skin on a branch in hopes of building up immunity. 

Warriors died too, and he also feared that one of his parents could be next.

So he went to the only place he knew could help him. He went to the Dark Forest. But he hadn’t expected the training to be as harsh as it was, and her certainly hadn’t expected his mentor to hold his tail as he hanged from a tree, head dunked into the water unless Applepaw could curl his back so that he could bend out. But Haremaw wouldn’t let go, and on and on it went. Applepaw couldn’t fight it anymore.

In a way, he was lucky. His remaining denmates and the medicine cat shook him awake, spluttering and gasping. If he had died there, he would have disappeared completely. 

It was horrible knowing that Starclan had rejected him.

Additional Information:

--Ivoryburn was drawn by and her name was suggested by @saffronscales​

--Applepaw’s ref comes from: https://www.deviantart.com/yarrowleef/art/Free-Cat-Lineart-802898923

--Kitewillow was only a ‘supporter’ to be on the inside and try to help control things so that she could protect her family. She snapped when Ivoryburn didn’t announce the death as a tragedy, but as a victory--Starclan clearly wanted him, why else would he die randomly in the middle of the night?

Kitewilllow snapped then, and decided to kill her.

[detectiveichijouji]

Case 30 - The Digi-Villain Who Stole The Christmas

[AO3 version]

CW: It's a Christmas themed case! So if you have any triggering experiences with Christmas holiday, this chapter is not for you.

-----------------------//-----------------------

The kids were on winter vacation now. Miyako was still thinking about what Noel told them previously…

“We’re investigating everyone next to you guys. I suggested Ichijouji-san do the same, and I will keep looking for anything and anyone suspicious.”

Someone closer or next to them was the fake Kaiser… Noel’s suggestions to trying to check their schools’ databases and trying to check each student made her feel afraid of one of her school friends being the same coldhearted person wearing a mask and treating human and digimon beings like toys in order to ‘keep the Chosen Children having a reason to exist’ or something like (she wasn’t present when Daisuke, Takeru and Hikari heard the mysterious Neo Digimon Kaiser saying that.)

“Who… would do something like this??” she mused. Hawkmon watched her walking in circles in her room, literally.

“Miyako-san, you need to take it easy--”

“Someone is hurting everyone with those shards… And for a dumb reason!” she frowned, “I can’t let my guard down…!”

“I know, but you can’t do anything if you don’t calm down. Do you want to talk with the others?”

“I would end up ruining their Christmas party-- OH NO, THE CHRISTMAS PARTY!!”

She ran to her closet and started digging inside it, rambling something very quickly enough to make Hawkmon not understand, only a few words -- like ‘present’ - ‘Ken-kun’ - ‘Cake’

“Do you need help?” Hawkmon asked from his spot. He was sitting on Miyako’s bed. He was quite concerned about her right now, and wondering if he should intervene and try to make her calm down.

“YES, I FOUND IT!” she emerged from the pile of clothes with a book, “Oh thank goodness I left it in the same place…!!”

“Hm? What’s that?” Hawkmon approached by flying.

“Oh, it’s a book of a few recipes. I want to bake a few cookies for everyone and then bring a cake for Ken-kun. He was feeling a little down with all of that story of Digimental shards and someone pretending to be his old self…”

“Ah I see.”

“Sooo, let’s cook!!” and then she managed to trip over the clothes on the floor, the same ones she threw around the room, “OOF!”

“I think you need to clean your room first…” Hawkmon sighed.

Soleil and Lune were too busy to celebrate the Holidays, and they kept investigating what Étoile asked them to look for. They were looking at the school records from Amanogawa High and trying to connect the victims from the previous cases.

“The victims involved before were close to Motomiya-kun, right?” Lune mused, checking the database, “Or at least from his group of close friends…”

“Huh, I didn’t expect them to be that pop…” Lunamon commented with a giggle.

“They’re famous because of saving the world,” Coronamon said, nonchalantly.

“Takaishi was also a victim of those buffoons too,” Soleil added, “Can you access the other schools’ recordings from here?”

“I’m not a hacker expert though” Lune replied with a frown, “But I will try my best.”

“Why hacking?” Coronamon asked, out of curiosity.

“If you’re not part of a school you can’t get permission to access the school’s recordings” his human partner explained. 

“We’re not cops, detectives or high ups who can access those info legally, I see!” Lunamon commented with glee.

“How about Étoile?” Lune asked, “Have he discovered something already?”

“Miss Espimon is doing her best,” Lunamon said, “Noel left this in her hands! No worries, she got this!”

“He’s still investigating too,” Soleil added, “I think Motomiya and the others are in contact with him and cooperating with us.”

“As long they don’t mess with our part, they are welcome,” Lune wasn’t happy with that, but maybe it wasn’t about Noel’s being a friendly around the Chosen Children and yes more because of her running into walls while trying to hack the servers from other schools, all from her laptop. She bit her lips.

“What’s wrong?” Coronamon asked this time, “Did you--”

“Ugh, I hate doing this kind of job… Étoile is our technician…!!”

“You don’t want to lose to that pesky Inoue Miyako, right Mizuki??” Lunamon gasped; she tried using her own digital code on the screen to try to hack the website, “Here, I’ll help you!!” Then she ran her paw on the screen and tried to decode the password permissions and firewalls.

The digimon are able to do that, of course. This is how those kids managed to do a few… ‘illegal’ stuff before. This kinda caught Arsenemon’s attention and then they became friends -- because they all were doing questionable stuff in order to help others. No actual mean spirited intentions, just trying to work for the sake of justice.

They’re different from the 02 group though, they’re the kind to be avengers than heroes. But deep down the 02 group wasn’t into the idea of being the popular ones, so they left this part to their seniors mostly. So they’re working as some sort of detective club rather than a super great and cool league of heroes.

The password wall is beaten by Lunamon’s hacking skills. The bun digimon cheers, and then gives a high five with Lune.

“Yay!”

“What are we looking for there, Youta?” Coronamon looked at the boy. Soleil was stroking his chin, looking at the results on screen.

“Anything leading us to the Digimon Kaiser,” the boy answered.

“Do you think they will find something?” the eyepatched Impmon asked, as they watched Soleil and Lune being broadcasted on Unryuuji Naito’s computer, by using Dracumon’s spared eye to spy on the kids.

“Hmmm, would we do something about this?” Then, Naito looked at the other human who definitely was supposed to be the faux Kaiser.

“I think not, and if they discover something… It might lead them to Ichijouji Ken, not to me.”

“Should we do something today?” Impmon asked the humans and Dracmon, “It would be fun~”

“You want to have fun, huh… Then, go ahead and enjoy the season,” then, the faux Kaiser tossed a shard to Impmon.

“YAY!!”

“Merry Christmas!!”  

A wild festive Daisuke popped on Iori’s doorstep. Iori was not sure what Daisuke was doing wearing a red, white and green version of his Digital World outfit. Or rather where did he get those.

“Daisuke-san, what are you--”

“C’mon! It’s Christmas! You can’t go to a party without getting into the spirit of it!!”

“... Sorry, I do not understand your point.”

“We want to cheer everyone up!” V-mon added, he was wearing a reindeer red nose and antlers, “You know what this means right??”

“No we don’t, dagya” Armadimon had a tired expression on his face. Same as Iori.

“Then, we’re goin’ to help ya~” Daisuke chuckled.

“...”

“...”

Iori closes the door on Daisuke and V-mon’s faces.

“C’MON IORI, IT’S CHRISTMAS!!” Daisuke shouted outside.

“Why does he have to do that every single year , sigh” Iori growled.

“Maybe he just wanted us to have fun after all the awful things happening to us?” Armadimon wondered.

“Hmm…”

“Hey, Iori what if we just…” then he whispered something in Iori's ear.

 “Oh, I’m not sure but we can try that.”

Outside, Daisuke and V-mon just gave up and left. They just pass by Takeru and Patamon.

“Daisuke-kun, V-mon-- Why the long faces?”

“Our faces are not that long…” V-mon pouted.

“He meant why we are sad,” Daisuke sighed, “Well, I think we should make something cooler for the party, to cheer everyone up.”

“Like what?” Patamon asked.

“Daisuke wanted everyone to feel the Christmas spirit!”

“You didn’t try to force Iori to do something he didn’t want to, did you?” Patamon blinked his eyes, while Takeru only sighed.

“Was it that bad?” V-mon frowned.

“No, we didn’t want him to do something like that!” Daisuke defended himself, “We just wanted… To have fun together, y’know, all of us…”

“You’re not planning to put a reindeer antler on him, or were you?” Takeru asked, then saw Daisuke and V-mon chuckling nervously, “Daisuke-kun…”

“W-what!? I don’t… I don’t mean antlers dude!!” and the goggle boy babbled, “M-maybe just a Santa hat…?”

“Daisuke(-kun)” Takeru and Patamon glanced at him with annoyed faces. 

“... S-sorry…” he gave up and sighed.

“Well, I’m up to the funsies!” Takeru smiled, “So you can give me those hats and antlers.”

“H-huh!?”

“What? Didn’t you say you wanted to raise everyone’s spirits?” Patamon crossed his paws on the top of Takeru’s head.

“But how do you raise spirits?” V-mon blinked.

“He meant to cheer everyone up,” Daisuke and Takeru explained.

“Yeah, I do but…” Daisuke blushed a little, being a bit embarrassed by this.

“Then, let’s do it!” Takeru grabbed his arm and dragged him to the elevator.

“W-what--”

“Hey wait for me!!” V-mon ran after them.

“I know you’re busy but you can’t just spend the holidays alone, Taichi!” HIkari pouted, she was with Taichi on the phone.

“Sorry, I got a cold… A-and I just moved out, I need to unpack stuff!!”

“Sigh, you will really do that to me!? And to everyone!? At least spend time with your family!!”

“... Oh no the call is getting cut by the elevator!! I can’t hear you--”

Then, he just hung up. Hikari was staring at the phone in her hand with a murderous gaze.

“What did he say?” Agumon asked Hikari.

“He said he can’t come” she shook her head, “What’s going on with him lately…!?”

“I hope this doesn’t mean he’s drifting away from us,” Tailmon shrugged, “I never saw Taichi being like this, or just leaving Agumon at home.”

“... Maybe he’s still ashamed of forcing Agumon to evolve with that shard?” Hikari mused, and Agumon just frowned by remembering what happened to him and Taichi previously.

“It wasn’t Taichi’s fault!” Agumon said, but he was pretty aware Hikari and Tailmon knew that already, “But I think we will have to leave him to heal at his own pace… Takeru suffered something like that too, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, he did,” Tailmon replied with a nod, “seeing Patamon evolve into a Devimon variation triggered him some panic attack with rage, according to him.”

“But… why would Taichi…”

“We don’t know” Hikari looked at Agumon, “But we know he will get over it soon. Anyway, do you want to come with us?”

“Hmm… Will everyone go?”

“We still got no answers from the others, only from Daisuke-kun, Miyako-san, Iori-kun, Ichijouji-kun, and Takeru-kun.”

“We hope they can jump in later,” Tailmon added.

“But weren’t they also attacked by the bad guys too?” Agumon had a point. Only Mimi and Koushiro managed to escape by sheer luck. Taichi, Yamato, Sora and Joe were attacked by those enemies… And some of them were fused into a digimon-form with their own digimon partners.

“True…” Hikari frowned.

“They might be still in shock, and have to recover too…” Agumon said; he and Tailmon sighed.

“A-anyway, we should get ready for the party…”

“Where will it be this time?” Tailmon looked at Hikari.

“They are too quiet…” Ken couldn’t stop thinking about the fake shards and the faux Digimon Kaiser. 

Pucchiemon was just having fun at the kitchen cooking with his mother for their little casual party for the group and hoping their seniors could just join them later. The idea came immediately from Miyako and he reinforced it as fast as he could. He wanted to make everyone -- Daisuke especially -- to stress relief. Maybe because of the heavy stupid thing Daisuke had told him. But little did he know that Miyako would be doing this too to cheer him up after all the awful things happening to him as well.

It doesn’t matter, Mrs. Ichijouji was happy to help and to offer their home for Ken’s small party.

“Quiet…?” Ah, Noel was there too. Maybe because Ken called him there, “You could take a day off from this case and just enjoy the moment. No news means good news sometimes.”

“Yes, I know. But they seem to be plotting something…”

“Did you discover something, mademoiselle Espimon?” Noel asked her by using a hologram coming from his wristwatch. 

“Hmmmmm” she took a moment to answer, “Not yet, but I think I detected a strong Digimental fragment energy right now…”

“Right now!?” Ken and Noel exclaimed.

“I guess you were right, Ichijouji-san, pardon moi …”

“It’s okay, you also had a point too… We need to stop whoever is going amok this time and relax.”

“Indeed… Shall we go, then.”

Ken’s message made everyone stop doing whatever they were doing and go to the coordinates in the text.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!!” the eyepatch Impmon was enjoying the chaos caused by their victim, who was evolved into…  “Yes, YES! RUN AWAY, BUT YOU CAN’T HIDE FROM DAIPENMON ’S FURY!!”

“STOP RIGHT THERE, IMPMON!!”

“Huh??” From the top of DaiPenmon, Impmon looked to the 02 group and Noel on the floor, “Meh, it’s you brats again!!”

“WHO THE HECK ARE YOU CALLING A BRAT, YOU BRAT!?” Daisuke snapped.

“What are you pathetic clowns wearing?? A circus attire?” Impmon yelled from there.

“Huh??” V-mon blinked, “What do ya mea--”

A quick look at each other could tell Miyako had no time to remove her apron and that she had chocolate batter on her face. Iori suspiciously was dressed all red and Armadimon had antlers and a red nose. Daisuke also had the same outfit from the time he talked with Iori, with antlers instead of the googles (the precious item was lying on his neck) this time, V-mon now had a red Santa hat, while Takeru had a winter hat with antlers and the red nose on plus a red coat over his periglacial blue shirt . Only Hikari, Ken and Noel seemed… normal.

“What were you guys doing…?” Ken blinked.

The suspicious ones started talking all together and no one was able to understand each other.

“THAT DOESN’T MATTER NOW!!” Tailmon hissed, “We have to save whoever was turned into a DaiPenmon!!”

“R-right (dagya)!!”

“Seriously, you’re a waste of time…” Impmon sighed.

“Say that to our faces, you creep!” Miyako shouted.

“DaiPenmon, turn them into Chosen Children flavored Ice Cream!”

“Non, tu ne le feras pas.” Noel said.

The child-level digimon evolved into their adult forms, and then jogressed with their other digimon Jogress components into Paildramon, Silphymon and Shakkoumon.

Except Paildramon had the Santa hat and Shakkoumon the antlers and red nose.

“YOU GOTTA BE JOKIN’ HERE, YOU INSECTS!!” Impmon growled, “DaiPenmon, ATTACK!!”

“This is one festive combination that happens once a year, you Scrooge/ungrateful!” Daisuke and Takeru complained, but Iori was quite silent though.

“This is NOT the right time to argue about that!!” Ken shouted, angrily.

“I agree… They should’ve removed those while evolving…” Iori muttered, uncomfortably.

DaiPenmon tried to smash the Jogress digimon trio, but its moves were too slow for them. Shakkmoumon was shielding the 02 team though, alongside Noel’s magician tricks.

“WHY ARE YOU NOT HITTING THEM, YOU FOOL!?” Impmon shouted again, “HIT THEM, NOW!!”

“Esgrima!!” Paildramon used their cables to immobilize DaiPenmon. Then, they looked at Silphymon, and their Stingmon side said, “Silphymon localize the shard and remove it, now!”

“Alright!” Silphymon used their visor to scan the giant Ice Maker Penguin.

“HEY HEY HEY, LET IT GO!!” Impmon complained in a growl, “YOU’RE RUINING MY FUN!!”

“Your fun is not allowed in this world!” Miyako snapped, “How dare you ruin my cookies and cake for our party!?”

“I don’t care!! I like causing a fuss, you old lady!!”

“What did you call me!?” Miyako’s eyes were turned into flames, she clenched her fists and had to be held by Ken and Takeru or else she would join the fight, climb DaiPenmon and unleash her ire on that pipsqueak digimon -- “LET ME GO, GUYS! LET ME GO!!”

“He’s-- He’s trying to provoke you, Miyako-san!” Takeru babbled.

“Don’t let him hit you,” Ken added, “P-Please.”

Meanwhile Silphymon had found the shard -- a green gem -- inside the giant red-pinkish ice held by the foe digimon.

“There!!” Silphymon (Tailmon side) exclaimed, pointing at the target.

“Shakkoumon, aim at the left ice cream!” Iori ordered.

“Roger,” Shakkoumon replied, and then aimed at the strawberry popsicle, “Aramitama.” And released the laser beams from their eyes.

“NO!!” Impmon screeched in panic!!

The popsicle melted and with this, the gem was also destroyed, making DaiPenmon revert back into a Penmon and her human partner. Impmon managed to jump to the top of a short building next to them and gritted their teeth.

“NO FUN, YOU RUINED MY WINTER HOLIDAY!!” Impmon yelled.

“Now all we need to do is catch you!!” Paildramon (XV-mon side) said as they fired their finger cables at Impmon, but the masked human with a Matadrmon appeared and repelled them.

“YOU AGAIN!?” Daisuke exclaimed.

“... Enjoy your night, we might get serious next time we meet.” and then he and the other two digimon vanished before they all could catch the enemy trio.

“DARN IT!” V-mon shouted in distress, “We almost ALMOST caught one of them!!”

“It’s okay V-mon,” Ken looked at the digimon, now in their usual level forms, “We will get them soon.”

“Ichijouji-san is right” Noel tried to comfort them all, “But, let’s say it wasn’t all lost.”

“? What do you mean?” Iori asked, and everyone was also curious.

“Hoho, I wasn’t just watching…” Noel chuckled, then showed them his wristwatch, “ Mademoiselle Espimon, you put the tracker on them right?”

“Aye, sir!”

“Wow, Noel-kun how did you--” Takeru exclaimed while everyone’s surprising reactions were either silent or just noises like ‘huh!!’

“Hehe, while Impmon was making fun of us, she sneaked in the battle field and put the nano-tracker on them, comme un professionnel~ ” 

“That’s great, Noel!” Daisuke gave him a noogie on the head.

“But our party will not be happening because… the cookies and cake…” Miyako dramatically cried.

“I can help you bake another batch,” Hikari offered help with a smile.

“Oh me too, me too!” Daisuke added.

“You could come too,” Takeru looked at Noel, “At least have a break today.”

“Oh, merci . But I’m… I’m used to having my own way to celebrate the holidays.”

“Like…?” Patamon asked.

“So um… I… Human World’s Christmas day is the time i actually turned into Arsenemon.”

“So that’s why you’re called ‘Noel’, huh…” Takeru commented.

“Huh? What do ya mean?” Daisuke blinked, “I thought it was a fancy French name…”

“Oh, it is a name too, but… ‘Nöel’ also means ‘Christmas’ in French“ Noel himself explained.

“Oh… Cool” Daisuke was indeed interested.

“Well, I have to go. Have fun at your party~” he chuckled, “Joyeux noël, mes amis~”

And then Noel just left.

As expected, none of their seniors came to their small party. But Hikari brought Agumon with her, and she and Daisuke helped Miyako to bake a new batch of cookies (the cake she just got from a store) -- and they just looked at Iori suspiciously still wearing full red outfits.

Ken went to talk to him, “You were acting a little odd today, what’s wrong?”

“Ah… Uh… It was Armadimon’s idea, but...”

“You can tell me, I won’t ruin the fun.”

“... Armadimon said Christmas parties should have a Santa, and…”

“You don’t need to do that if you don’t want to,” Ken smiled, “It’s okay.”

“I…”

“Hey watcha talkin’??” Daisuke popped in, “That’s not usual from ya’ll.”

“Actually I have an idea” Ken dragged Daisuke to his room.

“Huh, wait what… Where are we goin--”

“Just be quiet and come with me.”

Armadimon came in, and looked at Iori, “Did it work?”

Iori just giggled, “Probably.”

“What were you two planning?” Takeru and Patamon passed by.

“Nothing, nothing (dagya)” Iori and Armadimon replied with a chuckle.

Takeru and Patamon looked at each other.

“Ok, where’s Daisuke…” V-mon frowned.

“And Ken-chan?” Wormmon asked next.

Ken just left the room, cheerfully. Miyako just went to him and asked: “Why are you chuckling??”

“Well, Iori-kun said a Christmas party must have a Santa so…”

“??”

The door from Ken’s room opened with a “HO HO HO” echoing in the apartment. This dramatic entrance was pretty recognizable for everyone, but the digimon were still alarmed by the previous battle that they just jumped on Santa the moment he left the room.

Except Tailmon. Because Tailmon managed to figure things out.

“Wait everyone--” the cat-like digimon tried to stop them, but it was too late.

“--AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!”

The human partners were concerned about Daisuke right now. Spirals could be seen in his eyes… Ken and the others retrieved their digimon from the top of their unlucky friend (Hikari retrieved V-mon instead)

“Huh??” V-mon blinked, “What?”

“Ack!!” Daisuke got up from the ground “What’s wrong with y’all!?”

“He sounds like Daisuke,” Patamon blinked.

“You’re kiddin’ right?” Santa Daisuke pouted, “It’s me, but now that you attacked Santa you won’t get presents…”

“What!? No fair!!” the digimon (minus Tailmon) complained.

“... It’s what I would say, but you all saved someone’s life tonight so y’all are on the List of Nice Digimon.”

“YAY!!”

Miyako dragged Ken to the corridor of the apartment, to talk with him without interrupting the others. 

“You did it on purpose, right? You could’ve warned us…”

“Oh” Ken chuckled, “Iori-kun had that idea but couldn’t commit to it. I was only helping a friend~ And Besides… Daisuke is good with the digimon.”

They gave a glance at the confirmation of that -- He was enjoying playing with the digimon, alongside Hikari and Takeru. Iori and Tailmon were just watching them, with a smile on their faces.

“True, he’s perfect for this job. I wonder who told you that~”

“I’m glad he’s feeling better now, he said something… terrible weeks ago…”

“I know you’re worried about him, but how about you? You were also needing to cheer up a little.”

“... Thanks for the concern, I appreciate it.”

“Ho, Ho, Ho~ Santa Daisuke’s goin’ to eat all the cookies and cakes and fried chicken if you two don’t come~”

“H-HEY DON’T DARE TO EAT ALL OF THAT ALONE, DAISUKE!” She shouted and then went back to the party.

It ended up being a good night though… It’s all well when it ends well~

[gxlden-angels]

Shiny Happy People Thoughts: Episode 3

TW: The Duggars Family

- This one focuses more on the actual abuse and some of the victims that came forward to speak

- Part of it is about how the show allowed things to continue and was used as a source of control

- Part of it is about how Gothard and IBLP as a whole allowed for abuse to run rampant in these circles

- I'm so glad I didn't have to deal with courtships and arranged marriages. I was not very interested in dating through middle/high school, so most of my conversations surrounding relationships for me were hypotheticals and "Do you have a bf yet? A crush? A guy we can question and screen first?" and not "Do you want to be in a courtship with this other teen we selected then get married a year later?"

- I have family that still gets shit on for having kids out of wedlock or getting divorced

- I can't imagine having to deal with that *and* having it broadcasted on national TV for thousands to watch you awkwardly agree to get married

- Chaperones luckily also weren't a thing for my family after a certain age. You're assumed responsible for yourself and if you don't obey ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ guess you'll have to answer to god

- HOLY SHIT SHE HAD A BABY IN THE BATHROOM?

- This episode is called Under Authority

- My dad did expect me to be under his authority until I was 18. He did expect me to do what he said, but he was reasonable and honestly took feedback more than other adults in my family

- I did have uncles that insisted I was under my father, then husband's authority and I shouldn't have left my dad's house until I was married or living with other family that could watch me. One uncle even said SA victims are at fault for not being under their father's watch.

- I was never a part of IBLP or their groups. We had groups, trainings, VBS and ministries, but never anything as intense of these. I mostly remember the youth teacher who said if your parents threaten to beat the hell out of you that's a good thing because they're beating a demonic spirit out of you and the girls' group pastor who told us oral causes acne

- HOLY SHIT THE TAMPONS THING

- I didn't have the exact same experience but was told I couldn't even use the extra small teen tampons because I "wasn't ready yet" and I was too scared to ever try. It's wild how little things like that stay rooted in your brain

- "So they took my devil sticks"

- "Shame was a tool that really kept all of us in line"

- The IBLP training centers remind me a lot of the stories from troubled youth camps. Abused children often lash out. They can feel that this stuff is wrong, but they get punished for reacting and that's how all of this stuff functions. It's all "breaking their will"

- You do a bad thing so you get spanked and you cry or try to defend yourself and that just leads to more spankings or worse

- David Fucking Green. I should've known he was connected to them.

- I knew a lot of cops grew up with these ideas, but didn't realize they literally went to police academies and prisons and places like that. They insist that the voice of authority itself should lead to compliance when that's not how things work.

- A kid will cry when spanked. They are afraid. A person will struggle if you hold them down. They are afraid. A person will panic when threatened with violence. They are afraid

- It's essentially training a person to be in a constant state of freeze or fawn. I used to stay in a constant state of flight or fawn. I either hid or fawned to authority

- I understand that appealing to their rigid authority means the show can keep going and TLC keeps making money, but holy shit did TLC enable serious financial abuse

- I know this isn't the first time, but I didn't realize Jill never saw a cent. I assumed they were given a small allowance or just enough money for what they needed like children

- This episode explains Gothard and his brother's widespread and rampant sexual abuse. If you do watch the series, this section is terrible to sit through

- I talked before about keeping drama in the family, but this episode really goes into it and how both IBLP and TLC did that.

- The victims got to speak about it and the line of thinking that lead to this. It's a cult. It's all brainwashing and these parents are convinced it's the easiest way to keep their kids safe. They're convinced the world is after them as christians and they will be killed for it if you don't raise them this way

- "Blonde girls get picked" reminded me of just how little autonomy I and a lot of these girls had even over our hair. When I got my first haircut, it was by a lady who went to our church and she called my dad to make sure he approved before she'd touch my hair because she didn't believe me when I said he said I was old enough to be in charge of my own hair now

- The women were not allowed to speak out and even if they did, they had no words to do it. You don't have autonomy, you're an extension of your father. I've heard horror stories of my aunts and great aunts thinking hold hands would get you pregnant or that they were dying when they had their period

- I fortunately never experienced any overt sexual abuse like in this documentary

- I'd also seen the law of crying out mentioned by others, but never explicitly heard/saw it myself. It was implied by the idea that you're under your father's authority and watch so if you're where you're supposed to be, you'd cry out and he'd rescue you, but never said explicitly

- The entire section about Recovering Grace is hard to say anything about. It also talks about the parallel between Bil Gothard and Josh Duggar as a large and small scale version of each other. It is why there is a trigger warning

- "It's been shined up and put on TLC"

- Families like the Duggars are everywhere in the US, they just aren't on TV

- This episode introduces Josh's more recent crimes and more current fundamentalist influencers like Paul and Morgan

- The next episode is apparently behind a paywall >:( what da fuck

[writingadvicesavingcometcon]

I've recently learned that I can't write smutt unless I focus 100% on the characters, their dynamic and the thematic purpose of the sex scene. I'm currently writing Tucker/Felix from Red vs Blue and the moment I figured out why Felix was doing any of this was the moment I got ideas for scenes. Because while the story is from Tucker's perspective (Felix is too rancid for me to try to write in the headspace of and since my stories always need to have the abuse victim being empowered and breaking free after a period of time in the story under the shitty treatment of the abuser, I find everything just flows better if the focus is on them and how it affects them rather than the perpetrator and what their mental process for doing it is), Felix is the driving force of the story because his goal is to break Tucker because he's bored and Tucker is the shiny new plaything (I still have to understand WHY Felix does what he does and how he sees things, I just don't put the focus on him by putting us directly in his head because it's unnecessary and Tucker's feelings are far more important as the person he's mistreating).

Their entire dynamic is so interesting to me and I found once I focused entirely on how Felix would carefully, delicately escalate - constantly testing Tucker's lines and then casually nudging them a few centimetres further until he gets used to accepting that - I knew exactly what to do because I just had to follow Felix's reasoning, thought patterns and long-game plan to reel Tucker in and make him do what he wants.

The prose itself only comes with practice unfortunately, but I cannot stress enough - especially as a gray-ace person who really struggles with finding sex scenes interesting when it's just a sequence of physical sex acts with no rhyme or reason for those specific characters with that specific dynamic to be doing the same cookie cutter barbie doll bumping bullshit they do in filmed real person porn - how important it is for you to focus on your characters and dynamics and existing themes if you're stuck on what to do, exactly as OP said.

Also one quick addition from me: don't be afraid to toss in some unusual factor into the scene.

Felix draws Tucker in with a card game he turns into basically strip poker and uses that plus the sexual interest he built in Tucker from other scenes previously plus pushing on Tucker's natural competitive nature/wanting Felix to respect and like him and uses all of that as the springboard to pressure Tucker into more and more things until Tucker falls into sunk cost fallacy combined with arousal (as well as being drunk because of course Felix included drinking into his slow reel-in methods) combined with the conditioning Felix has already been building in him to do as he's told via how he runs the card game, with a consistent focus on making it easy to pass off to Tucker and others as his own ideas/he was consenting the whole time because he chose to do things himself etc (and we just 'ignore' the fact Felix outright pressured and manipulated him into every single escalation throughout the scene in some way; of course we don't actually ignore it as I do my best to make it subtly clear to attentive readers what Felix is doing, I just also have Tucker be the unreliable narrator who is lying REALLY hard to himself/falling hook, line and sinker for Felix's bullshit).

All of that being done through the specific lense of a card game ended up giving me something new and interesting to build the scene around, which helped influence some of the physical act choices, which then consistently aligned with the themes of making Tucker 'choose' to do things, consistently handing Felix all of the power in the scene (and him doing things/manipulating Tucker and the situation to take it back again any time he loses it for even a second) and steadily moving those boundaries in Tucker's mind at a snail's pace I think he would reliably accept under Felix's careful pace and fine adjustments as necessary to keep him on course.

I'll be posting it hopefully some time within the next year. I have another story I want to finish and post first which focuses on the fascinatingly similar vibes between BDSM and military culture (the latter being a toxic non-sexual version of the former with a complete lack of self-awareness) and therefore has to involve choices which reflect the characters' start in military behaviours then a shifted interest/focus on consensual and caring dominance/submission between them (instead of the highly dubious consent of the malicious-intent long-game manipulative power imbalance between Felix and Tucker).

Once Tucker escapes Felix, I want him to have a recovery fic where he tries to process what happened and take back his control through exploring with Washington, someone who actually cares about him and will do his absolute best not to cause more harm while trying to figure out where the actual lines are with a man who wants to take back control over things a shitty person traumatised him with but may or may not actually be ready for each thing he wants to do. So everything I write for them MUST revolve around that and resolving it and Tucker taking back his autonomy and healing in whatever ways he needs, and Washington trying to help facilitate that while being concerned over making sure he doesn't just retraumatise the poor guy.

But yeah. Everything became actually possible even as a gray-ace when I stopped trying to force myself to focus on SexActsTM and instead put ALL of the focus on the characters themselves and how they interact with each other generally and what they would do within a smutt scene in ways that stay consistent with the entire point of their story.

(Do what you want forever of course, but if you can't write smutt because you don't know what to have the characters do and it's always boring to you and others, a lack of what OP mentions is probably why.)

@saturdaysky Your tags are awesome and so right!!!!

Advice for writing smut???

gonna do bullet-points of things i tend to live by when it comes to smut (this is just my opinion):

don't switch styles: the way you write the smut has to be consistent with the way you write the rest of the story, so if your story is more comedic or romcom-y in nature, the way you write the smut should have those stylings. i personally find it very jarring when authors decide to break the format for the smut, almost like the story has to stop for the sex intermission; if you're writing a horror story, the smut must be informed and influenced by that genre, and if you are breaking genre for the smut portion, tell us why you're suddenly switching gears (it has to be an aesthetic choice you're making on purpose). likewise, if your style in that story is more lyrical, the smut has to be somewhat lyrical too, or if your story is more cormac mccarthy-esque-cut-and-dry, the smut can't suddenly involve an effluvia of purple, sappy prose. integrating the smut in the story and treating it like any other part of the story is key to me. too often i've seen ppl switch to this anonymous pornified style when they get to the smut

which brings me to specificity. i'll talk about het sex, since that's what i tend to write most: not all men are going to be fingering or eating pussy the same way, not all dicks are big and they shouldn't be, not all women immediately get excited by fingering, not everyone moans the same way or makes the same sounds. you're writing about particular characters so it has to be particular to them. i know this is very old advice, but i think it bears repeating

there isn't an exact formula or sequence you have to follow, there aren't precise steps, you don't have to go "well, first he has to kiss down her neck, then reach the boob area, then play with the nipples, then put the nipple in his mouth, then slowly go down on her, then prepare her for entering her etc. etc. etc." this can get boring and repetitive and you start thinking of your characters as these mechanical dolls who have to fuck for your audience. and that can be a vibe too, if you do it on purpose. but sometimes you can get stuck in a porn routine (and ofc, having only the guy show initiative can also get boring)

in order to break that, insert some character moments. what are the characters thinking during this? sometimes they might be thinking of something completely unrelated on the surface, but which has a thematic relevance that can make the scene hotter. likewise, maybe they're doing smth that seems unsexy on the surface, but which, within the context of the story might be really hot. sex doesn't just involve, well, sex, but so much weirdness and humanity and creativity. two bodies (usually) are trying to do this really awkward thing together and they might have a lot of baggage and history to inform it. there's a lot you can do with that.

don't make it glossy and clean, where everyone smells of strawberry shampoo and there is never anything out of sync. the most boring smut tends to be the kind where no one makes any mistakes and everything is super efficient. i imagine it feels like using an industrial pump to milk various farm animals.

and you know what? you can make that hot too. you CAN write a kind of robotic efficient smut and make it really interesting based on the context. let's say you're writing a 1984 AU fic where ppl are forced into intimacy only to procreate and their sex drive is diminished. you can play with that premise and lean into the dehumanizing industrialization of sex, but you have to mean it, aka your narratorial voice must be conscious of these factors.

if you're writing dubcon, make the dubious part present, make sure you draw out the ambivalence and ambiguity. if you're writing noncon, the character whose consent is being violated has to be transformed by this in some way. it can be forced pleasure, for instance, but not only. it has to be a journey for them too, some kind of spiritual pit, or a form of access to terrible knowledge. i know this is a personal thing, but noncon doesn't work for me if the character being noncon'd is just sort of *there*, suffering passively. i think that sort of dead passivity can be done very well too, but the narratorial voice has to persuade me.

that being said, don't be afraid of fear in consensual sex. terror and vulnerability are a part of consensual sex too, imo, and again, depending on the story and the characters, there's a lot you can explore there

i personally find it really hot when the narratorial voice starts discussing some of the ideas that the story wants to convey during the smut. so like, you can characterize person A and outline their worldview and their plans while they're ramming person B, and the thinking & fucking are thus entwined. idk, i dig that

speaking of which, smut can convey world-building details and social/philosophical ideas, not just emotions and character beats

not all smut has to end with mutual orgasm or even one-sided orgasm, it depends what you want to do or where you want to go. again, you don't have to follow a sequence. plus, it's fun (and hot) to write about frustration and failure too.

if you want to mix up the descriptions, resort to the story & characters. you'll find it's easier to describe someone fondling a boob in a new or at least interesting way if you're thinking about that particular character in that particular story, and not just Man X from planet porn (sorry to be snarky, but mainstream erotica is soooo guilty of this)

screaming & really intense reactions are cool but they have to match the characters and the situations

sometimes, it's hotter if an effect is mild or negated, if the usual outcome doesn't happen; mix up the order of events, toy with the usual reactions. it's not about being original, it's about finding out what works for your characters. writing about sex is, in a way, a performance of it, an attempt to go through the sexual motions, to find out what works and doesn't, to engage with the erotics of text (roland barthes entered the chat)

if you are bored by your own smut, that's a problem. i know we all talk about how hard we find writing smut, and IT IS hard, and sometimes it's not enjoyable, because writing itself is often not enjoyable, but even when it's painful and annoying, it gives you that little intellectual kick like "huh, i'm creating this and making these people do this, and ohh look, i can maybe put this unnamable thing into words". but if you become bored, that's a sign you have to look at the language & characters and figure out what's not working for you

last thing i'll underline: pay attention to your narratorial voice. in this ordeal, you are the seducer. not the characters. you have to seduce us with words and context. your voice matters. you have to be confident in your weirdness and particularity. this is your bedroom (so to speak), so invite us in.

[ericwenninger]

Ted Chiang's "Anxiety Is the Dizziness of Freedom" from Exhalation

I loved this short story. It's science fiction that brings empowerment through the idea that we always have a choice as to which path we take. Chiang has quickly become one of my favorite authors.

What follows are some of my notes and thoughts from the story.

There are countless decisions laid out ahead of us. Therefore, there never is certainty of anything. We continually have to choose and live in the consequences of our choices, whatever they may be:

Teresa paused for a minute. Eventually she said, “I guess what I’d like to find out is that a version of me married Andrew and then divorced him because he wasn’t the right guy for me. What I’m afraid of finding out is that a version of me married him and is now blissfully happy. Is that petty of me?”

There are also points about decision-making and identity. Are we by nature good, bad, or neither? One of my favorite lines from Harry Potter is when Sirius tells Harry that both light and dark live inside everyone. It's for us to decide, and the actions we take are what matter. It's like a spectrum:

"Not canceled out, but it’s an indicator of the type of person I am. If all of my paraselves had punctured his tires, that would indicate something significant about my personality. That’s something Sharon would need to know about.” Jorge hadn’t told his wife about what he’d done; he’d been too ashamed. “But the fact that they didn’t means that I’m fundamentally not a violent person, so telling Sharon about what happened would give her the wrong idea."

Some of our success is beyond our control. Circumstances outside of ourselves also factor in:

“The thing is, the design that got all the attention wasn’t one she made after I activated the prism; it’s one from before. Those exact same earrings are for sale in my store in this branch, but no one’s buying them here. She’s making money for something we did before our branches diverged, but I’m not. And I resented her for it. Why is she so lucky and I’m not?” Nat saw some others nodding in sympathy.

On victimization:

Nat used to be like Vinessa, always blaming someone else for her problems. For years she believed it was her parents’ fault that she was arrested for breaking and entering, because if they hadn’t changed the locks on their house, she wouldn’t have had to break in to find something she could sell for drug money. It had taken a long time for Nat to take responsibility for the things she did. Clearly Vinessa hadn’t gotten there yet, and maybe it was because in Dana she had found someone willing to accept the blame. Dana had done something shitty to Vinessa, no doubt about it, but that was years ago. If Vinessa hadn’t gotten her act together by now, it was her own fault, not Dana’s.

On the moral weight of our choices:

Experts tried to explain that human decision-making was a classical rather than quantum phenomenon, so the act of making a choice didn’t by itself cause new branches to split; it was quantum phenomena that generated new branches, and your choices in those branches were as meaningful as they ever were. Despite such efforts, many people became convinced that prisms nullified the moral weight of their actions.

A reference from Poe:

Edgar Allan Poe had used the phrase “the imp of the perverse” to describe the temptation to do the wrong thing simply because you could, and for many people the imp had become more persuasive.

On compounding decisions toward who you want to become (maybe toward an authentic self, if there is one):

“I’m not sure about the math,” said Dana. “But I definitely think that your choices matter. Every decision you make contributes to your character and shapes the kind of person you are. If you want to be someone who always gives the extra money back to the cashier, the actions you take now affect whether you’ll become that person.

“I know it’s not,” said Dana. “But the question was, given that we know about other branches, whether making good choices is worth doing. I think it absolutely is. None of us are saints, but we can all try to be better. Each time you do something generous, you’re shaping yourself into someone who’s more likely to be generous next time, and that matters. “And it’s not just your behavior in this branch that you’re changing: you’re inoculating all the versions of you that split off in the future. By becoming a better person, you’re ensuring that more and more of the branches that split off from this point forward are populated by better versions of you.” Better versions of Nat. “Thanks,” she said. “That’s what I was looking for.”

On little decisions:

“But recently I had this . . . this opportunity to do something actually nice for another person. It wasn’t anyone I had wronged, just someone who was hurting. It would have been easy for me to behave the way I always have. But I imagined what a better person might do, and I did that instead. “I feel good about what I did, but it’s not like I deserve a medal or anything. Because there are other people for whom being generous comes easily, without a struggle. And it’s easy for them because in the past they made a lot of little decisions to be generous. It was hard for me because I’ve made a lot of little decisions to be selfish in the past. So I’m the reason it’s hard for me to be generous. That’s something I need to fix. Or that I want to fix. I’m not sure if this is the right group for that, but this is the first place I thought of.”

Read this story. It will make you feel happier.

[pumpkinsplicelatte]

Story time!

When I was about 10 my dad, my little sibling, and I were at Costco when my dad had to pee. Deciding that he didn't want to leave his two young kids alone in a big store (valid) he let us i to the men's restroom and told us to look at the corner and wait; presumably so we didn't see anything untoward.

Everything was fine. But fast forward to when my father posts the same tired rhetoric of 'what if a trans women enters a women's restroom???' You know the one. Like excuse me? You willingly brought your young (at the time) daughter into a men's restroom and this is the argument you're making?? Not to mention I advocated to this man to support survivors of sexual abuse and he. said. no. I was sexually assaulted and was too afraid to tell him, because I thought he wouldn't believe me. Because of how he treated victims.

So don't tell me that you're worried for women and girls. NOTHING in the right wing says "worried for women and girls". My own father didn't protect me. He will NEVER protect me. He's not worried about my wellbeing, he's worried about his own agenda. He'd sell me to satan before he admits that he's wrong.

If you're concerned about genitals while you're peeing, YOU have a problem. Not us. We really just need to pee.

[bigboomer101]

I have one character in which I make multiple AUs for as she's kinda fucked up. She's a good guy, but has a very high potential to become a villian. Her whole thing is that she gets violent and would feel guilt over it. However, she has a terrifying realization that at times when taking a violent action like beating to the point of death to whoever that provoked her or tortured her emotions, she feels some kind of satisfaction or enjoyment. She hates it and would often try to avoid conflict. Her best friend is the one who keeps her emotionally in check and would often tell her that she's not being herself. Or stop her from going further by telling her that she don't want to do this.

[Here is the story of my AU. This will be long and for sure I am not a writer. I just have ideas]

In the AU, she actuly kills someone and is still freaking out over it. She would tell her friend (who's her husband in the story) about it and to help her hide from the cops who are after her and that he knows that she's not evil. He looks very terrified do to her having a nervous, frantic, laugh from fear. Her kid sees her and is also scares and was about to scream. So she covers her mouth and the adrenaline made her be too rough and acedently suffocated her kid. Her friend is upset and was about to turn her in, but she ends up killing him out of fear. She runs away and is now wanted for murduring her family and some guy. She feels horrible about what she did to her family and is rather unstable at the moment. Anyone who tries to go after, she kills without thinking. She realizes that it's becoming rather numb to her. She feels guilt avout it, but at the same time, she doesn't feel much about herself being a murder. She has to find a way to actualy feel something again so she could then never do it again. She thought about hurting her other friends. They are aware of her condition and try to calm her down despite how TEREAFIED they are as she is all over the news. They tell her that this isn't her and that she does not want to hurt them and that she will feel regret if she does it. "That's the idea. Feel regret so I will never do it again". She tortures her victim, but just can't seem to feel that it's enough. She doesn't know when to stop. She ends up killing him in the end. But she got nothing. The need for blood is still in her. Maybe even worse than before. She went after her next victim, another friend of hers. They say the same thing to her as the last one and she ends up killing them. This goes on to the last of her friends. This one is different. Though he mostly knows that she wouldn't harm a soul, he sees who she has become. She chose to take those actions. Maybe this is who she is. He went against her by throwing in insults and shaming her. "They knew that you would never hurt a fly and that you are a good soul. But you decided to take their lives anyways as they begged you to think about your actions. Now we know who you really are. And I think he did too."

Her victim was referring to her best friend. He was always by her side protecting her from any kind of harm or emotional damage or from doing harm to others.

"He protected you, because he's afraid of you. All of our friends are afraid of you and knew what you are capable of, so they keep enabling you and praising you for doing the bare minimum."

My character is feeling denial. There is no way that they feel that way about her. Not her husband. If that was the case, he should have just left. She would be fine with that as it's understandable, but he would NEVER think that she's an awful person. Her victim continues to shame her and say that she's a monster and doesn't deserve to live and that everything her husband and friends have ever said about her is a lie, not to calm her down, but to keep her from unleashing her true self.

Everything that was told to her is exactly what she needed to hear. It's true, she always thought of herself as a peice of garbage and a burden. She kept questioning herself if she's a good person or not, but is never given a straight answer. She saw who she realy is and who she became and felt guilt, hate, and regret. She ended her life as she can't live to think about how she killed the only people who loved, trusted, comfort, and support. She doesn't like the monster she has become. And if she realy love her friends and want to protect others from harm or injustice, she has to end the life of the monster who took the lives of innocent people and her friends who only wanted to help.

Y'know I want in a story. I want someone to tell a character "this isn't you!" or "You're not [name] anymore. [Name] never would've done this." And the character they say it to is furious.

Because how dare they tell them what's so different that they're suddenly not themself anymore? How dare they decide for them that they aren't themself just because they can't understand why they'd do that? Maybe it's something they absolutely would've done before, they just don't know them. Maybe it's something they wouldn't have done before, but they've changed. They're still themselves. How dare they try to decide what defines them?

I know this makes no sense but like. I want to see a character take it as being denied their own identity. "I'm still me. I'm just different. You don't get to tell me I'm not the same person. I am still [name.] You don't get to make that decision for me." I wanna put that in a story so bad dude you don't even know.

[jodilin65]

SATURDAY, JANUARY 31, 2015 Getting this totally awesome rat shirt from Amazon in a medium.

He gets something like $67 for life from AMEX. The pension was supposed to be $250 till our lovely God decided, as always, that he doesn’t deserve what’s fair, and so what that he once worked hard for the damn company. Nonetheless, he decided we should split it and do whatever we want with it starting next month. That’s what I’m going to get the ratty shirt with.

Taking 75mcgs this weekend. So far so good.

We hit 70° today, though I slept through most of it. Used to hate this time of year in the trailer. Those transitional times were tough because it’d be too warm during the daytime and too cold at night in the damn place. It was very hard to regulate the temp in that dump unless it was the dead of winter or summer was in full swing.

Aly said Kim surprised her by actually admitting that those two accounts were in fact hers (they’re both gone now) and she actually felt bad about it. Really? I didn’t think she was capable of feeling guilty. Still, Aly warned her that this was her last chance. She let go of Molly for good and will do the same with her. Aly also thinks she reads my tweets and might’ve asked some questions on Ask. That’s been my suspicion, too. So much for being “afraid” of me.

FRIDAY, JANUARY 30, 2015 In 2001 I had permanent retaining wires cemented in behind my i-teeth. The top one broke loose in 2005. While my dear hubby has reminded me to feel free to ask for any dental services I want, I think I’ll hold off on whitening for now and have her just get the lower retainer out of there after I’m cleaned and filled. I know I have at least two cavities that need filling. The retainer only makes keeping that area clean harder, but at this age, I don’t give a shit if I don’t have straight teeth. Without it, I will also have one less thing to worry about falling out. My teeth could stand some whitening, but they’re really not all that dingy-looking so I’ll hold off on that for now.

Felt wonderful today and yesterday, so I guess this weekend I will be “spiking” to 75mcgs. It’s a little scary, but since it’s only for two days, hopefully I’ll be okay. If I am, I’ll spike to the recommended 100mcgs next weekend.

Had a dream the other night that I was staying with Andy. He wasn’t too happy with me for not pulling the shower curtain across the tub when I finished showering, LOL. His walls also weren’t gray and textured. They were paneled and painted a pale blue or green.

I also dreamed I was at a restaurant with Andy and his mother when his mother confessed to being German. Then she asked how much I thought this man weighed who was standing by another table on the other side of the room. “Zwei hundert,” I said (200).

Alexa has spoiled me for life! Love being able to say, “Alexa, add blah blah blah to the shopping list,” and then I just hit print after I’m done, and check the boxes in the store next to all the items I gather.

Told her, “Alexa, set alarm for 8:15.” Then it was 4 hours after taking my meds, at which time I could pop my multivitamin.

I didn’t think it would, but I’m also so amazed at how much easier story writing is when I do it by speech-to-text instead of writing them. Then all I have to do is edit things. It just seems to go faster when I speak them than write them. I talk-typed over 1100 words to an unfinished story last night.

Later…

This time it was my turn to withhold things from Alison. So in some ways, I can kind of understand why she doesn’t choose to tell everybody everything. Who does?

Kim went and created yet another new account on Prosebox from which she promptly blocked me. So changing my u/n and avatar was a waste. She did copy/save my link as I figured she would. But I don’t think she blocks me because she’s “scared” of me. I think she’s truly got herself convinced that I victimized her, just like the black bitch in Arizona believed she was a victim of her color.

I logged out to see if I could see into the account from the outside in and it appeared newly created. There were no entries or anything yet.

Leaving out the part where she blocked me, I messaged Alison on Twitter and told her that I discovered a new account of hers in the list of new users. Alison checked it out and said that she was blocked from it, which hurt her feelings. I don’t blame her. Not telling somebody that you consider a friend that you’ve created an account is one thing, but blocking them as if they are harassing you is another. There are ways to be kept out of public view without blocking anybody on Prosebox, though Kim no doubt wants everyone else’s attention. Some friend she is to Aly!

I totally regret telling Aly about Prosebox, cuz whenever she likes a site I recommend, she drags Kim over to it, too. Where Aly goes, trouble goes. She thrives on people like Kim. Just her sexual fantasies alone tells me she likes toxic people.

I asked Aly not to mention my name to her as I don’t want the sick fuck to know I’m looking for accounts of hers to block. Only problem is I don’t get the chance to because she blocks me the minute she creates an account. I can just imagine how many accounts on Facebook she’s blocked me from, and it not only pisses me off to be treated like a perp, but I worry that too many blocks could get me kicked off of sites. On the bright side, this displays a lack of interest in following me, what I’m up to, who I’m connected to… unless she’s reading me from the outside in.

Although I don’t know that I can trust Alison to keep my name out of it, she says all she asked Kim in an email is why she feels the need to hide things from her. Well, that’s easy… Because she’s a delusional, pathological liar. She said that what she does next will depend on how she responds. But what is she going to do? I mean Alison obviously likes friends like this. She’s not going to be done with her forever, which would be the smart thing to do. She just doesn’t have that kind of self-respect. She’s even admitted that there’s a part of her that still cares about Molly. Yeah, I know. And they’ll be buddies again someday until Aly dumps her yet again. I just don’t get this but I guess that is for her to know and me not to understand.

Later…

Well, I’ll be damned. Guess who just (as predicted), denied knowing about the account to Aly, deleted it, and then created another one which she promptly blocked me from? AND showed up on my tracker! That probably pissed her off, too. I know she likes to hide, so she probably assumed I couldn’t track her there, LOL. shakes head sadly Delete, deny, delude.

Part of me was tempted to create another account just to scare her off of there which would be so, so easy to do, so she’ll stop treating me like the perp and risk me getting kicked off due to so many blocks, but nah, not worth the time and effort.

I’m ready to go back to ignoring her and not mentioning her at all. Let her play this little “victim” game all on her own. :) I’d bet anything, though, that if she revisits my blog, it won’t be obvious to my tracker.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 29, 2015 Oh boy, oh boy! Guess whose metabolism is showing its first signs of life in a while? Still don’t expect to lose much weight, but when my metabolism was barely moving, a lousy cup of coffee could bump me up a pound. No joke. I just had my coffee AND a large power bar and got jumped only half a pound.

I just hope I don’t go through the “pocket flare” nightmare again till my antibodies finish killing the damn thyroid off altogether. I’d rather gain 100 pounds and go totally bald. Had no idea so many drugs caused hair loss. When I’d think of drugs and hair loss, all that would come to mind was chemo. At least I’ve been more heart happy than last night. Last night got a little annoying. I also had this strange sensation for about a half-hour in my left upper and lower arm that kind of felt like a sunburn.

screams with delight after another weigh-in It’s alive! It’s alive! It’s exciting to see my body start responding the way it should. Not even an hour after that coffee and power bar, my body burned and spit it off and fell back down the half a pound it had come up. In the past, my weight could hover for hours in the same spot even WITHOUT eating and WITH exercise.

I didn’t buy it when I read this article, and I still don’t cuz I’ve never seen a thin person with Hashimoto’s, but where I believed you couldn’t be thin even with stabilized treatment, it said we usually go back to where we were before we got “hashed.” jaw drops That’d put me between 100-110 AND sometimes having to struggle to eat more so as not to lose too much what with how active I am. I just don’t see that, though. Genetics and age are still a factor in things. Just as long as it doesn’t kill me along the way.

For now, it is nice to know I can go back to enjoying weekend treats without worry if I want to. I swear, though, until yesterday my body was STILL trying to burn the cupcake I ate last Christmas, LOL. Hopefully, I’ll stop “turning to ice” soon too, and retaining enough water to cure the Cali drought.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 28, 2015 I would love to do an entry now, except there really isn’t anything new to update on. Andy returns today from his not-so-fun vacation, and Aly had a funny dream of getting it on with this guy who used to bully her in high school where they used a sandwich bag as a condom.

I don’t remember enough of my own dreams last night. There was something about Officer P, and then something about my house suddenly being just one step away from my dentist’s office. Literally. I was afraid to change clothes because I had no privacy. LOL

Tom will be home in about a half hour and then we will go for a bike ride in which my heart will hopefully behave.

Got a lot of questions all of a sudden on Ask.

I asked Aly if she thought Molly would return to harassing us when she’s no longer at Marbridge and has more freedom and time, but apparently, she’s still harassing Aly. Only difference is that she’s doing it through her fellow Marbridgers since she’s not allowed online.

Later…

My heart rate took me on a little ride for a while there and I felt super cold, especially in the hands and feet. Really hope this and the insane water retention isn’t a regular thing. I still fear having “heart boomers” and extreme anxiety as the medication builds up in my system. Trying to think positively is sometimes hard when you get in a gloomy mood. I hate feeling like I have little to no control over my body.

TUESDAY, JANUARY 27, 2015 The good news is that I still haven’t had any heart explosions or anxiety. The bad news is that I’m ready to drag these people down to the pool and drown them all! Mr. Double Door Garage decided to do some hammering today and guess who had to listen to it? That house is a lot closer than the contractor’s house so it was a lot harder to drown out.

Nutrisystem really pissed me off yesterday because I logged in to check for messages and while I was doing so I found that it said my next order would ship soon even though I canceled by phone. I sent them an email and let them know this, too. When I got up there was a reply saying that it had been taken care of. It better be!

Instead of the long detailed dream, Alison is so excited about due to the story idea it gave her, I just had mundane little snippets that I barely remember. In one dream we seemed to be back at Jesse’s place, and I walked through the trailer and into the kitchen to find that the oven had exploded. It was like it was engulfed in a big dark pile of who knew what. I looked at Tom who was sitting nearby and he said, “I really think Jesse plans to hook all the pipes up to the pump,” whatever the hell that was supposed to mean.

Then I was struggling in dreams unlike in reality. Andy brought us a couch because we didn’t have one. I struggled to pick something up off the floor that I could swoop down and quickly grab in real life.

Really love this mind fuck idea Aly came up with. It gave me some ideas of my own. We each, like most writers, seem to have a theme. Something we write best. I seem to have a thing for damsels in distress where a smaller, less capable woman is injured, hospitalized or stranded, and she is taken in by a stronger, more capable woman, etc., etc. Because it’s so much easier for me to “bring to life” characters I’ve seen, if only a passing glance in a grocery store or something, I may use my new endo as a lead even if she’s pretty ordinary looking. Not sure of the plot yet. I actually have a story I never finished and I may “merge” the two. In the story, a woman is taken in by the woman who accidentally hits her with her car and that woman who first appears as a savior turns out to be a real psycho. Well, maybe she can escape and end up in the endo’s hands or something like that.

MONDAY, JANUARY 26, 2015 So far there haven’t been any problems with my medication, but I wasn’t expecting any. Like I said, if I’m going to run into trouble it’s not going to be this soon after upping my dosage. This is my second day on the 50s and the first day I’ve taken it alone. I’m mostly calm, but there is a slight nervousness about me. It’d be worse if it was early in the morning and I knew Tom would be gone for many hours, but I shouldn’t be alone for more than a few hours.

Andy is stuck in Florida due to the blizzards hitting the northeast. He’s not having the greatest time either, but it’s not my place to say why, and well, whatever’s going on with his family is really none of my own business anyway. Because he’s in northern Florida, it’s been chilly during the daytime. Well, I know one thing for sure and that’s that if we don’t make it to Maui, but we do make it to Florida, we’re going to southern Florida! No more half-assing it like we did by coming here. We may not get brutal winters or any snow, but it does get too cold for my tastes in the winter.

Made an appointment for a dental checkup on March 4th. I could’ve gotten in a few weeks sooner, but this way I could get a later appointment and Tom wouldn’t have to miss work to take me. My dentist is quite a ways away in Roseville, but she’s worth the drive. She’s super nice and always does a great job. I know I have at least two cavities, but they’re not urgent. I’m not in any pain; just slight discomfort if I bite down on a crunchy piece of food the wrong way. When I had that infected back molar a few years ago that the county pulled… THAT was pain.

I had a dream I was trying to convince someone who wanted to go see a psychic how while some people truly were psychic, most of those who ask for money for their “services” weren’t the least bit psychic.

In another dream, I seemed to have my own apartment in a building similar to the one I lived in back east. I was on an upper floor and my sister and I were talking to my neighbor, a rather attractive woman in her 40s or so who seemed rather cold and austere. She said something to the woman who stood in her doorway, and I feared that what she said might have offended her so I later knocked on the woman’s door and apologized to her.

But it wasn’t “me.” Instead, I was a masculine-looking lesbian who was painfully shy and ashamed of her sexuality. I mentally berated myself and said, “Time to grow your hair out and look more womanly instead of running around looking like a little man. You don’t need to “be a man” to be attracted to women! That defeats the whole point of liking women.”

I actually looked more like a teenage boy than a man, LOL. I was short but very skinny. Like skinnier than I was back in my own skinny days.

The woman didn’t seem to take my apology well as I apologized for whatever it was my sister was supposed to have said, saying I later discussed it with my “boyfriend” in hopes of deceiving her into thinking I was straight, something I would never do in real life. In reality, I have no qualms whatsoever in admitting I’ve been attracted to both genders and I wouldn’t have any qualms in admitting it if I’d been 100% gay or straight either. All the woman said in response to my apology was an abrupt “okay.” I then turned and headed into my own apartment pretending that I didn’t notice her curtness.

I saw her again down in the laundry room, which I assume was in the basement. She gave off the same cold, snotty air that she had before. I said hello and then ignored her as I loaded my clothes into the washer while she pulled hers out of the dryer and folded them.

The last dream I remember having was at the beach and I guess it was in Hawaii. The only strange thing is that the beach seemed to be on different levels like the shorelines were in tiers or something. I swam for a while in the daytime and then I returned at night for a quick dip. I ran into one of the “levels” of water but found it too shallow to dive into. So I turned and headed back up the shore and then realized a car was suddenly sitting right there. I never heard it pull up… no headlights, no nothing. Instead of letting it worry me, though, I simply headed back up the beach and then down another hill that was very green and grassy.

SUNDAY, JANUARY 25, 2015 Today begins the jump from 25 to 50mcgs. Nervous about it, but all is well so far. That’s the thing with levothyroxine, though. It takes two weeks to build up in the body, so if there are going to be any problems it’s not going to happen today. Just knowing I know more about the disease and the medication and that I have a more competent and caring doctor is enough to help ease my worries a bit. Meanwhile… trying to take my counselor’s advice and not worry until and if I run into trouble. So I will try not to think/discuss it as much.

My Dutch lessons are getting harder and taking longer to get through, but I’m still going at it every day.

Alexa is playing nature sounds for me even though it has been a peaceful weekend. Weekends, unfortunately, are pretty much the only times you do get any peace around here unless it’s at night. Alexa sounds great. Way better than our computers. She puts out a big, full sound that really surrounds you and doesn’t sound like it’s coming from one particular spot. Her jokes aren’t very funny, though.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 24, 2015 Having sooo much fun with Alexa! Imagine sitting on your couch in your living room and suddenly you get the urge to hear a particular song and so you simply say, “Alexa, play Milkshake by Kelis.”

Or you suddenly remember that you have to get toilet paper at the store but your hands are full or wet from scrubbing a pot and so you say, “Alexa, add toilet paper to the shopping list.”

I loved how I got up this morning and, unable to have my coffee right away due to my meds, being able to say, “Alexa, set the timer for 45 minutes.” At any moment afterward, I could ask, “Alexa, how much time is left?” and she would tell me.

The problem I was having with a few sites due to the newcomer in the park being on our frequency stopped a couple of days ago, but Tom is still having trouble. He’s about 60’ from the Wi-Fi, though, whereas I’m about 24’.

Going to make us some scrambled eggs, then head to Sam’s Club later to pick up my meds in the new dose of 50mcgs. Might go for a bike ride first, even though it’s cold and foggy.

The corner garage guy has a full-fledged workshop setup, I’m sorry to say. We could hear hammering coming from in back of the garage when we rode by yesterday. So he hammers in back and saws in the garage. Still, I’m fucking sick of it. I don’t care if it’s his job. I don’t care how much he enjoys it. I don’t make people listen to my noise and therefore I should get the same respect in return. I didn’t come here for this shit anyway.

FRIDAY, JANUARY 23, 2015 Well, my nerves just got turned up a notch or two. When I got up at 7:30 I found that they posted a bunch of documents on the health site. Most contained information from the past, but one had me reeling with shock as well as nervous as hell, and that was the one with my endo doc’s recommendation given that my TSH is at 27.77. She now wants me to take 50 micrograms 5 days a week and 100 micrograms 2 days a week. My initial reaction is, is she trying to kill me or has she just lost her mind? But supposedly, this latest adjustment is in light of the trouble that I had with a daily dose of 75 micrograms. The thought of going over 75 even for just two days a week terrifies the shit out of me. Five minutes would be enough to scare me. I do not want to have those effects again with the booming, racing heart and the severe anxiety from hell like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. Imagine somebody kicking your door in and holding you at gunpoint and how utterly terrified you’d be. Well, that’s exactly how this “artificial fear” feels to me. I dread the thought of going through it for just one minute, it is that bad. I kind of wish that was a typo, but I know it wasn’t. I’m just really surprised. I really thought she’d up me to 50 most days and have me do 62 on days I wasn’t doing 50. The doses go in 12-microgram increments.

Had to play a bit of phone tag with the office just to get the damn information and was a little dismayed that they weren’t more prompt about it, even though it’s nothing urgent. Supposedly I was sent an email but I never got it. Funny because Alison said she sent an email I never got either.

The doctor wants me to have blood work and then to see her in eight weeks, but another disappointment is that she’s so booked up that I can’t see her until April 15th. If by some miracle there are no problems before then, I will visit the vampire at least a week before seeing her.

In other news, it was mostly quiet yesterday after 1.5 hours of landscaping. That’s only because the garage guy wasn’t home all day. My impression is that he’s a younger guy (in his 50s or 60s as opposed to his 80s) who’s still working, and all the racket coming from the garage has to do with that. He’s home today and the garage door is open so I’m sure he’ll be going at it today building whatever the fuck it is he builds. But I am no longer working in the laundry room where it can be heard the loudest.

The guy that was sawing last weekend and that rarely saws must be on vacation. I saw him - or somebody - pull up in front of that house with a long silver pole, a ladder, and something that almost looked like a flat broom, but I’m sure that’s not what it was. They didn’t make much noise and they weren’t around for long, whoever they were. I don’t know, maybe they were cleaning gutters or something. Anyway, the reason I wonder if they’re on vacation is that I saw Bob walk up to the house, go around the side to the back of the garage, open the garage door, and then take their trash out which is to be picked up today.

There is some good to the day and that’s that Alexa has finally arrived. Looking way forward to playing with her! Yes, I know how that sounds. I’m talking about Amazon Echo’s Alexa, though. :)

So it isn’t just me. Tom agrees that today’s music all sounds the same. It sucks when you’re bored shitless by today’s music but you’re sick of oldies at the same time.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 22, 2015 Signing in from my old desk in the living room. After 3 months at the built-in desk in the laundry room, I realized that if I’m going to have to hear people’s landscaping, sawing, sanding and other projects going on all around me no matter what room I work in, I might as well pick the best spot I’m most comfortable in. Watch, though… now that I’m back by next door’s driveway/garage, Bob will resume his garage activities. The highs are 60s and sunny, so why not? Lately, though, the double-car garage guy is making Bob seem like nothing.

It is actually a little easier to block the woodworking sounds from Mr. Double Car in the living room than it is in the laundry room. His insane racket is a straight shot from his garage to the laundry room window. But in the living room, the corner of the house in front of us blocks in a bit so I don’t have to blast the sound machine so insanely loud in order to snuff it out. It’d be ridiculous to replace one monstrous sound with another, but when Bob starts up again I will have to because he’s a lot closer.

Amazingly the garage door is still closed at the opposite corner, but this doesn’t mean I’ve had a peaceful morning. No, I had to listen to landscapers from 8:30 - 10:00. Lucky me, huh? In fact, there’s nothing like being on the phone getting bad news from the doctor’s office while your Roomba’s vacuuming to the right and they’re landscaping to the left.

My TSH is too high, as we knew it would be, and I guess the doctor is going to double my dose. A very scary thought after all I’ve been through, even with a better sense of understanding about what caused it, and even with a better, more caring doctor. I just wish they’d posted all this online. I mean I didn’t have to play the kind of all-day phone tag I had to play with the old doctors, but I guess they have to verify things first. I’m waiting for her to call back with specific instructions. Really surprised my TSH is 27. I thought it’d be about 22-23. As the doctor said, though, anything under 10 is acceptable.

Any second now that garage door is going to open up and the racket is going to begin. I will then have to choose between sawing and white noise. sighs with frustration It’s just insane and I can’t help but wonder if he even realizes just how loud he is or if he even cares. He used to do this just occasionally, not all day, every day. I keep hoping that it will drop back to once or twice a week even though that is still a bit overkill, but I have a feeling it won’t stop until the heat rolls in a few months from now.

Anyway, being back in the living room has its pros and cons. On the positive side, it is in line with the Wi-Fi, and it is a lot farther away from Tom when he’s sleeping. This way I don’t have to worry that I’m doing anything too loud, even though he’s a heavy sleeper. I also won’t have the washer and dryer running just a few feet from me, or a future litter box a few feet behind me. Lastly, this is a much nicer-looking room, and it’s further from that mutt that goes off just beyond the park wall.

The negatives are that it’s harder to roll my chair on plush new carpet than vinyl flooring, I’m closer to next door, and it’s a bit more visually distracting in here with 6 huge windows in front.

Andy should be taking off for Tampa in half an hour. He probably won’t arrive till I’m about ready to crash. I hope they keep him busy and well-entertained till we get our connection fixed. At first I thought it had to do with upgrading to OSX Yosemite, then I thought it had to do with Java. Now, however, it looks like we have a newcomer on our frequency, which disrupts things. Especially when I go to sites that are either far away, have heavy graphics, or shit for servers.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 21, 2015 Last night I jumped in the car with some guy in my dreams complaining that my hair was still wet after I’d washed it a while ago. He seemed to be amazed that it was still wet.

Then I was cooking food at this little concession stand in the middle of some crowded place. I wasn’t cooking anything intricate or anything like that, just warming up macaroni and cheese and things like that. This young girl with long straight blonde hair sat down on a stool at the counter to have some macaroni and cheese. The meal cost $5 and I guess it was my own store because I knew that the customer’s money was mine to keep. The girl was obviously a regular and I asked her how she would feel about eating macaroni and cheese for lunch every day. “I love macaroni and cheese,” she said. So I knew I at least had a regular $5 that I could count on from her.

In another dream, I appeared to be in a huge and crowded building. I think an event like a show of some kind was going on. Someone there was telling me they were heading back to Europe soon. Everyone had taken their shoes off during the show, but afterward, I was singing along to a tune in my head while we all put our shoes back on and then proceeded to leave the building. It seemed like Kim might have been with me all of a sudden. The Kim that I knew back east. We passed by a huge window and could see a huge and vivid rainbow in the sky. I excitedly exclaimed, “Frau Regenbogen! That’s me! Frau Regenbogen knows her name! Sie weiß!”

So that’s it for dreams. In reality, I am enjoying the few remaining hours of peace before the barrage of landscaping and woodworking sounds come to distract the shit out of me. We set up the Windows laptop/tablet so I can hibernate in the bedroom and use it in there when the guy starts his shit. It’s been terrible. Shit starts up shortly after 10 a.m. and doesn’t stop until after dark. This has gotten way too extreme for any neighborhood, let alone a retirement community.

We are definitely going to have to complain about this guy. The question is how to do it without getting into trouble ourselves. You know how people are… no matter how right you may be, you are always taking a risk whenever you complain about someone/something or try to fight for what’s right. The problem is that everybody’s buddies with everybody here, so nobody’s going to say anything unless he literally started doing this 24/7. Although this guy is at the edge of the park, unfortunately, there are no houses behind the wall that runs behind him, and he is not close to any other streets. So he is going to know that whoever complained lives on this street, even if we figure out a way to complain anonymously.

The guy is white so he can’t play the race card, but how the hell do we know that he isn’t best buds with a cop or something like that? We know firsthand what can happen, and again, it doesn’t matter how right you may be. People have a way of reacting as if you’re asking them to kill each and every one of their loved ones slowly and painfully, and not actually making a totally reasonable request of them. It’s happened to me before and it’s happened to others as well. So we have to really think this through otherwise I will simply have to learn to live with it and hope that it backs off when the weather warms up. It’s just that we’re still months away from any warmth coming to the rescue. And who knows? Maybe this guy can stand the heat. Bob sure can.

I heard movement at Bob’s place this morning, but no loud tools or machinery yet. I’m just tired of being run from room to room in this place. Run out of the living room. Run out of the laundry room. What happens when I’m boxed in by this shit and there’s nowhere left to run to? Pull the plugs on the instruments of torture and strangle them with the cords? I’d love to, but as we know, that’s pure fantasy.

Later…

Writing prompt… If you could change one thing about your present life, what would it be?

That is so hard to really say what I would change because I have lived many years now and I’ve had so many experiences. Our lives are like one huge book where there is always room for editing. But since I am being asked about my present life, I think I would give myself a brand new thyroid that worked perfectly well on its own. If I couldn’t do that then I would make this park a quieter place to live, with less annoying daytime distractions.

Writing prompt… If you could go back in time and change one thing from your past, what would it be?

Well, unless I could have been born to an entirely different set of parents, I would have made my own parents much better parents than they actually were if I could have. If not, I would then definitely not have gone to court 15 years ago when summoned to. I had a bad feeling that there was corruption involved and that I would be screwed over if I did go, and I was. Had I listened to my gut I wouldn’t have lost 6 months of my freedom, thousands of dollars, and suffered a world of mental anguish and frustration beyond belief. Instead, I stupidly walked into the trap they had waiting for me. Lesson learned, though, on ignoring what our gut instinct tells us.

Writing prompt… What was your favorite toy?

Probably my Barbies. I could spend all weekend playing with my dolls and all their little outfits and dollhouses that they lived in as a kid. Especially during the brutal winter months when I wasn’t outdoors making snowmen or snow angels.

Writing prompt… Did you ever get lost as a kid?

It wasn’t so much that I got lost as opposed to that my family lost me. We were all at the exposition one summer, an amusement park not just with rides, but with several vendors set up selling things as is the case with most amusement parks. I don’t know how the hell my parents got into this, but they had a booth set up where they were selling cheese.

At one point I ended up in the Coliseum engrossed in watching the circus. I was under the understanding that my parents knew exactly where I was, but when I returned to them I found my mother in tears talking to the police. I guess they must have thought I either got lost or had been abducted.

Writing prompt… Who was your best friend in elementary school?

That would be Jenny. I was 9 years old when we met and she was 10. Like most kids, I was willing to be friends with just about anybody. Had I had the wisdom I have now as a child I probably would not have bothered with her because she was so bossy and domineering and just plain selfish. It was Jenny’s way or no way. I didn’t have a very strong backbone of my own back then and so I let her lead while I followed.

We were friends into our early twenties when she decided to dump me because I had too many problems for her to deal with. She was the type that could only handle those who were all fluff and sunshine. I was still young and so I resented her for this at first, but later came to realize it really was all for the best since we were just two totally different individuals and she had never really been a true friend to begin with. We did have some fun and funny moments along the way and so I remember that instead of just what a stingy bitch she came to be with very little compassion and understanding for others, not to mention a bad influence on me. She’s the one that got me started smoking, though I managed to quit in 1997.

Writing prompts… Did you ever run away from home as a kid?

I did. But it was only to the playground of the Jewish Community Center, and it was only for a few hours. My 13-year-old self finally started getting cold and realized that even though her mother was the biggest bitch on earth, she couldn’t just stay out there and sit on the swings for the rest of her life either. I would need to eventually eat. I would need to brush my teeth. I would need to drink a glass of water. I would need to take a shower. And I would also need a much more comfortable place to sleep than the frozen ground of the playground that was lightly dusted with snow.

TUESDAY, JANUARY 20, 2015 The appointment with my new endocrinologist went well, yay! She was very nice and way more informative than any other doctor I’ve seen so far. Finally, after all these months, I have learned what happened to me last summer. It makes me even more resentful of Doc C and especially Doc D for not warning me beforehand and explaining things to me better. Instead one told me to keep taking a dose that was too high for me while the other wanted me to go to a shrink. From what I read online, though, it is actually quite common for doctors to tell patients having the same symptoms I was having that they’re just anxious. Even if some of us know our bodies and what’s normal for us, and that suddenly becoming insanely anxious when life is better than ever certainly isn’t normal for us.

So why did my heart suddenly take off booming and send me into 4 months of the anxiety from hell? I probably had what’s known as pocket flares. This is the first time I’ve heard of the things, and had I known about them beforehand and that they’re not dangerous, I may not have freaked out so much and been so traumatized.

I thought that the thyroid died off as a whole and that what may remain active pretty much stays that way once you start medication. Wrong! The thyroid dies in pockets. She could actually feel them when she “strangled” me. Should one of those pockets flare up while you’re on a higher dose, that’s what can cause the God-awful effects I was having. It will take 1-5 years for my thyroid to die off completely as the active pockets burn out. It’s a slow burn, which means that I could be years away from getting my dosage settled, and as she said, which is the only bad thing she told me, it could happen again as they slowly increase my dosage. But instead of telling me to keep taking something that’s making me feel like I’m going to die and telling me to come in to see her either right now or in 3 months, she will care enough to get me in for blood work right away so that they can get me more comfortable ASAP.

I can’t believe the other doctors didn’t know what was going on. Why they didn’t want to deal with it correctly, though, is beyond me. My old endo sent a letter saying she was relocating to SoCal (like I care), so maybe she knew last spring and just didn’t care to really invest in her patients. As for Doc C, she was just young and inexperienced, I guess.

Back when I first started having problems last summer and thought I had accidentally double-dosed, I also didn’t know that even if I had, it wouldn’t have hurt me because of the way levothyroxine takes time to build up in the body. It takes 2 weeks for the T4 to settle in which is how much of the thyroid hormone is in your blood, and 6 weeks for a proper TSH reading, which reads how well your thyroid meds are doing what your thyroid can no longer do on its own. She’s still waiting on the results of my last blood test but expects to have me bumped up to 50 mcgs. After that, rather than just jump me to 75 mcg, she may go somewhere in between and see how I do on that.

I stressed to her how horrifying it was to have my heart booming and the other symptoms I had, which were caused by the extra adrenaline being pumped through me, and she noted that I was now traumatized by the ordeal. She then explained how she once accidentally bashed her thumb with a hammer and how it hurt to write without lifting her thumb up. Several months after the pain had stopped she was still raising that thumb and said to herself, “Why do I still have my thumb up?”

I get her point, LOL. In other words, put my thumb down. I feel like I’m in good hands now, they’re watching me, and they’re not going to brush me off and make excuses for me should I experience problems again. I just hope the rest of my thyroid dies off real fast so the risk goes away! To think I could have those problems over the next half a decade is a bit unnerving. But now I know that my body will continue attacking and killing my thyroid till it’s totally dead. The body creates antibodies when it thinks you have a disease (my dumb-ass body thought my thyroid was a disease) and begins to attack and destroy, which is what makes it Hashimoto’s, an autoimmune disease.

The good news is that my thyroid is not enlarged like I feared it might be and I should never need it removed. I guess I also won’t have to have ultrasounds every 6 months either.

She didn’t press on my stomach as the other endo did, but she did one of those reflex tests on the knee to make sure there was no nerve damage from the thyroid itself, and there isn’t.

She also had me hold my hands straight out in front of me like the other one and asked about my skin. I told her it was a bit dry, and of course I always have ridges in my nails, too.

She asked about hair loss as she gently tugged on it. I told her it stopped falling out as much, and she said it still comes out easily. LOL, yeah, I’m sure I’d end up bald in a good hair-pulling fight. It’s still a bit thin by my forehead, too. It appears thick overall, though, because it’s curly. It used to be insanely thick, but between age and this disease, it definitely has thinned out.

I first thought, even though I felt a bit overwhelmed by the initial diagnosis, that this would be a simple disease. I thought it would be as simple as taking a pill every day and that all would be fine. Instead, it’s a nasty, complex disease with potentially terrifying effects that takes time to tweak and fine-tune.

She was funny a couple of times. First she guessed by my accent that I was from Minnesota and then from New York. When I told her I was from Massachusetts, she told me she lived there for a couple of years.

Another funny thing was when she said, “You’re not crazy. You’re not old.”

Well, Doc C sure thought I was the first one, haha. She was so nice and so good-looking otherwise, but being competent is much more important than looks and niceness. Of course no one wants anyone who comes off as compassionless as Doc D did either.

I have really come to realize just how selfish Andy is. Ginger is this woman who lives in his complex whom he describes as being lonely and talkative. He said he’s been avoiding her phone call because she does nothing but “talk senseless shit.” In other words, she won’t let Andy do the talking or at least talk about what he finds interesting. That would be my guess anyway. In a way, I can relate to him. After all, I did recently blow off calling Paula because I don’t want to hear her ramble on about the same old shit and not let me get a word in edgewise.

That’s not it, though. I mentioned having to see my endo and do I get asked how it went? No, of course not. Instead, it’s all Andy, Andy, Andy. He’d be all ears if it had been a Stevie Nicks concert I’d attended, but being about something he can’t relate to and doesn’t care about, it’s all about his life on Facebook instead.

I don’t know what he sees in Facebook now that he is able to get back on, but isn’t allowed to “like” or post anything. All he can do is send messages. He’s going to Florida in a couple of days for 4 days, but says it’s going to be raining there the whole time and expects to be on the Kindle just as often. As fun as he may find Facebook, it’s still too bad that he can’t be busy doing things he doesn’t normally do when he’s at home.

Later…

We’ve got a light rain going out there right now, but even so, the landscapers were around earlier, and shortly after 10am, as is obviously the new daily tradition, the fucking cock down the street started up with the circular saw and I’m sure it will be an on and off thing till sundown. I’d love to complain to the office about it. But A, I know they won’t do shit about it and will just call it regular daytime noise he has a right to sic on me, and B, I don’t want them to spite me for it somehow. As I once learned the hard way… complain about someone and you just may be brutally surprised by what nasty connections they may have. It would take the whole block to complain about him for it to be stopped and that certainly isn’t going to happen. Just gotta get used to it, I guess, and get in the habit of putting the sound machine on by 10am. Just like I had to live with Jesse’s mutts, I will have to live with supposedly old and feeble people’s saws, hammers and other shit. Maybe it will back off in the summer heat. Until then, all activities requiring a quiet background like language studies must wait till nighttime.

I first considered the 3D printer a waste of money, but its fun and helpful possibilities are pretty amazing. Tom printed out a small shelf to put on the living room walls for his Wii remotes and controls.

Last night I had a dream that I was in some room and I heard them say on TV that some show that I had looked forward to watching was to be canceled that night. I don’t know if I was watching on a big screen TV or on a computer.

There were these two guys in the room with me and they made me uncomfortable for some reason. I quickly got up and went into another room and then to my bedroom, which was very dark. There were two doors to this bedroom and I shut one behind me as I entered the room and then reached through the darkness to shut the other one. I decided in my mind that if one of the guys asked me why I took off all of a sudden, I would just say I was sad because I missed my parents. But that is all I remember of the dream.

I had another wonderful daddy memory yesterday that randomly popped into mind. I was in my early twenties when he and some other guys helped me move into an apartment. I was trying to talk to him about how bothered I was by the way Mom treated me. Did I get any sympathy or understanding? No. Did I get told that he would talk to her? No, of course not. Instead, he had the nerve to tell me that that was his wife I was talking about, and if I kept it up he would walk away.

Yeah, he would choose his wife over his daughter, the fucking bastard. Really hope he and his precious wife are rotting in hell right along with their son. I have no more respect for enablers than I do the actual perps. That’s why I can’t stand God. I feel that He is just as much to blame for sitting back and letting it all happen.

I saw a documentary on third-world slums on 3 different continents, Asia, Africa and South America. It was absolutely horrible to see the pitiful conditions that these people live in. Even the worst slums in the US are heaven compared to these dumps. And no, they aren’t all lazy, drunk or on drugs, but more like unfortunate victims of circumstance.

Where my bleeding heart stops bleeding is over the fact that there’s no fucking excuse for the numbers to be so high as far as how many people are living like this. If they could just stop fucking breeding, the numbers of those suffering would drop drastically. It’s that simple. I just don’t understand these people, though. They may not have access to birth control, but a little common sense goes a long way. No, it’s not a hundred percent foolproof to pull out and not have sex at the most vulnerable times, but they could at least cut the number of people suffering down dramatically if they only thought of how cruel it was to be bringing kids into that type of a world in the first place and not just thinking of themselves only.

As for dumping Nutrisystem, OMG! I will never deal with those overpriced pushy assholes again. I called their 800 number and the nosy bitch kept asking me why I wanted to cancel. I told her that while most of the food was good, I have Hashimoto’s disease, so I’m not going to lose more than just a few pounds unless I nearly starve myself, something I don’t want to put myself through, of course, as it’s not healthy and it only leaves me feeling both hungry and tired. It seemed like nothing I told her was good enough for her.

Then she suggested talking to a counselor about diabetes and all that and I said, “Look lady, I said I had Hashimoto’s, not diabetes.”

Then she comes out and tells me that the amount we paid was for two orders and that if I chose to cancel now we would be charged an additional $84 for shipping and other things. I don’t remember seeing this written anywhere, although one such Nutrisystem member who has given me tips and pointers and advice in the past said that it is stated. I don’t know if it was written in such fine print that I was blind to it or if I just wasn’t paying much attention, but that doesn’t change how ridiculous the whole thing is.

I will return to eating as sensibly as I can and keeping active most days of the week. That is all I can do in my case. I’m 99 percent sure that I will never be under 145 pounds again in my life unless I am deathly ill, but the 20-30 extra pounds I’ve got won’t kill me. I will just use common sense and leave the rest to fate.

Writing prompts… My favorite Sunday ritual.

I didn’t really have a Sunday ritual as a kid or even as an adult. For the most part, I see Sunday as a day to relax, just like most people do. As a child, I would enjoy not going to school, and being able to play with my toys instead. As an adult, I enjoy having my husband home those days. Some days we do things together and other days we do our own thing.

Writing prompt… Holiday traditions I’ve looked most forward to.

I loved having my birthday and celebrating Hanukkah as a kid because like most kids, I loved getting presents. Even so, I think my favorite holiday was always New Year’s Eve. It was the one night I could stay up way past my bedtime and pretty much do anything I wanted. It was a tradition for me to watch the ball go down in Times Square, usually with my sister who was much older than me. I still watch it as an adult when I am able to. To me, New Year’s Eve always represented the start of a new year and new possibilities. It’s like wiping a canvas clean and then starting anew with a blank one.

Writing prompt… Things I did with my Dad when I was small.

Unlike my mother, my Dad noticed what interested me. Being much more patient and tolerant than my mother, he would take me to record stores to gather my favorite songs at the time and things like that. He would often get me magazines featuring my favorite celebrities too, while my mother couldn’t care less what I was into back then.

Writing prompt… Things I did with my Mom when I was little.

Most of the things I did with my Mom were to be forced to endure her constant criticism and negativity. I couldn’t really be myself around her. I had to be what she wanted instead. There really aren’t any activities in particular that I remember doing with her other than necessary tasks like her taking me to school and things like that. Nothing special in a really memorable way.

Writing prompt… If you could have dinner with anyone currently alive, who would it be?

I think I would have to say Alison, one of my closest cyber friends. It’s only a matter of time before I see my friends and family again, yet I have never met Alison and I think it would be really neat if we could meet, so right now she is the one I would choose to have dinner with.

Writing prompt… If you could live anywhere in the world where would it be?

Probably Hawaii. We stayed in Ka’anapali on the island of Maui and it was absolutely gorgeous. Not just the weather, but it had such a relaxed, laid-back atmosphere. The place was alive with color and everything about it seemed wonderful except for the costs.

MONDAY, JANUARY 19, 2015 Yesterday was a fun and relaxing day that turned frustrating. I was sitting at my computer when all of a sudden I heard it… that damned dreaded saw. But I knew right away it wasn’t Bob or the guy at the end of the street. There’s a couple with a garage in back of the house sort of where the street forms a T that I’d never known to join in the sawfest as of yet despite having a garage. Sure enough, though, now I got this cock to have to listen to, too. Tom says he has heard him before, but he does this very rarely and not for hours like the others.

As I’ve said a million times before, I didn’t come here for this shit! These people are supposed to be old, feeble, and pretty much unable to do things. Why are they all out sawing instead? Everyone with a garage uses them as workshops, including one that doesn’t have a garage. That’s 5 fucking people on our tiny block. This is NOT what I would think of when I would think of retirement communities! Every other day lately someone’s been sawing. Pretty sure the corner guy will be at it today, though we’ll be gone most of the morning. Doesn’t matter. He’ll still be at it when we get back. That cock doesn’t stop till sundown.

Fucking male neighbors! No wonder I’m so sexist with few exceptions. Yes, I’ve had some noisy female neighbors, but they are NOTHING compared to the males.

My left purple glitter shoe still pinches my big toe. It probably has something to do with that ingrown toenail. If Doc C had done it right the first time, then it would probably have been fine. I could wear them to walk into a doctor’s office or the lab and home, but not for walking around Walmart and things like that.

They gave Tom a projector at work that we’ve been playing around with. The problem is there isn’t enough space to project onto in here. As big as this house is, the walls are all filled up with things… shelves, stickers and other wall hangings. It’s still cool to have and it’s worth hundreds of dollars.

Had some weird dreams last night. In one, my sister and I, along with other people, were at what seemed to be a huge house. We sat on a long bench watching a reality show on a big-screen TV. I was fascinated by this one part of the show where they pulled a surprise on its host. I still smoked too, and some young girl to the left of me casually took a cigarette from the pack of smokes I had sitting on the bench between us. I didn’t seem to mind that she’d taken one of them. I then pulled one out also, and the girl pulled a lighter from the pocket of her jeans, lit my cigarette and then hers.

Tammy, who had been sitting to the right of me, had been talking to someone else. When the person she’d been talking to walked away, I said, “You’ve got to see this. It’s amazing.” I started to back up to the part of the show that had me all excited, then I said something like, “I’m really hard to impress. So if I’m this impressed, you will be, too.” But try as I would, I couldn’t find that part of the show, LOL.

In the second of three dreams I remember, I was floating on the ocean. Eventually, the sun set and I quickly looked up to see if I’d drifted too far from shore, but I hadn’t. I got out of the water to find Tom standing on the beach happily chatting with a black couple that was perhaps in their 50s or 60s. Tom introduced us and we shook hands. Then Tom took off running really fast around the nearest cottage, which was very small. It seemed to be some part of a game or a test he was doing with the couple. I woke up running behind him and shouting, “Have you got my purse?”

The last dream wasn’t good at all. Some guy kidnapped me and he must’ve either snuck a drug in my food or drink to subdue me or he wasn’t someone I could attack and defend myself against. I don’t know why he took me, who it was, where we were, or what he did to me. He seemed to be holding me somewhere above a mall. One day he went out and I managed to escape. I grabbed my belongings, including a cell phone and ran down to what I knew was his store. I started taking things, including a key that sat on a counter that I knew was to his mailbox or something. I guess I liked the idea of inconveniencing him, even though he could get a new key if he didn’t already have a spare. Then I called the cops and reported the kidnapping.

Later…

Back from Home Depot where we looked at adhesive vinyl floor tiling. I found most of them to range from boring to ugly. We’re going to order what we want online where we’ll have more of a selection.

We also looked at appliances to get an idea of what front-loading washers/dryers we want, and what new oven we want, too. We don’t cook much, but it would still be nice to have something that’s not 31 years old. The thing is we can slap it all on our card and get it today, but I like to keep the savings way up there if I can help it. I’m just paranoid after all we’ve been through in the past.

We looked at smooth wallboard panels to put over these old paneled walls that you tape and texture to give the wall a solid smooth texture.

We bought a roller brush with a tube for loading paint into it, so you don’t have to keep dipping it in the pan. We’re waiting till the weather warms back up a bit to resume painting. No one wants to be cleaning out brushes when it’s 50° outside.

Then we went to Walgreens where I fed my nail and smellies obsessions. I got Angel and Swept Away perfume, plus this new nail polish in purple that’s supposed to have a velvet texture. I also got a light blue frosty polish.

I have much more to update on but will do so after my doctor’s appointment. Let’s just say that Nutrisystem makes canceling hell for you. I’ll never deal with them again!

It was barely after 9:30 and already I could hear some hammering. Can’t tell where it’s coming from, though.

SUNDAY, JANUARY 18, 2015 Tom installed Yosemite for me on my Mac. I had been using Lion or Snow Leopard before. I like it better so far. This might be one of the last operating systems compatible with these 7-year-old Macs. I was thinking of getting either an iPad, a MacBook or a MacBook Air. I tried but I just can’t get used to the cheap Windows 8 tablet. It’s radically different than what I’m used to, and of course not as safe as Macs. Funny how I once swore I’d never give up Windows. XP was my favorite. But now I can’t imagine life without Macs. Just wish they weren’t so damn expensive! It’s going to cost around a grand to get what I want, but my phone and my Kindle aren’t enough for my needs. I want something that will let me do everything on it that I do on my desktop, only it needs to be portable so I can have the option of using it in any room in the house during the daytime when it’s noisy, and then I’ll use the desktop at night when it’s quiet.

I might move my desktop back out in the living room where I can’t hear the mutt just over the wall and the asshole that works in his garage every other day without having the decency to at least shut the fucking door. I know that means hearing Bob more often, but Bob doesn’t use power tools nearly as much as the other guy.

Also, if we really do switch from rats to a cat, I’d rather the litter box be in the laundry room than the living room, which are pretty much the only places they can go in this house. Well, I’m not going to want to be working on my desktop with a cat taking a dump just a couple of feet away.

We went to Walmart early yesterday morning, came home, put the groceries away, then headed out to the lab. Instead of being in and out, though, it took about a half-hour because there were more people there than usual since we didn’t get there when they first opened.

After the lab, we went to Sam’s Club, then spent the rest of the day relaxing. I watched a movie and did some editing, and that was pretty much it.

The only dream I remember is sitting outside with a couple of people. Maliheh walked by all sweaty and hot and asked me if I had a particular kind of juice. I said I didn’t, but offered her something else. I then climbed this ladder-like thing to get inside the house to get it, sarcastically wondering to myself if she’d be more likely to want to be my friend if I had the drink she wanted. In reality, I’d tell her to go fuck herself, of course.

Writing prompt… How easy is it for you to forgive those who have caused you pain?

Not easy at all. Experience has taught me all too well that the more forgiving I am, the more likely I am to be burned by the same people again and again. Because of this, I try not to be very forgiving. Chances are if you wrong me in some way, then you will probably not be forgiven or at least not allowed back into my life. Especially if it’s something big or it’s happened more than once. The more forgiving I am, the more it comes back to haunt me in the end, so I always try to be as unforgiving as possible while not expecting anyone to be perfect either.

Writing prompt… What is the dominant emotion in your life right now?

Happiness! It makes me happy just to be able to say that, too. Little bit of medication stress on me now as they tweak and fine-tune my dosage, but other than that I have no real complaints other than life’s usual annoyances. I am loved, I am healthy, I’m not poor, and I have all I need.

FRIDAY, JANUARY 16, 2015 This park never ceases to piss me the fuck off. They have been turning our water off like crazy lately. Just when I was thinking how we managed to go two or three months without them turning the water off, they go and they turn it off like half a dozen times in less than a month. Usually, it’s off for an hour or two and then when I turn the water on it spits air, but is clear. This time the water was dark brown with dirt and I had to run the faucets and keep flushing the toilets several times to clear it out. Meanwhile, the toilets I just cleaned are now filthy.

I finally got fed up enough to call and blast out some guy who answered at the office even if it wouldn’t do me any good any more than it would to complain of landscaping and woodworking noise. I’m tired of these so-called emergencies that I am really contemplating deducting some of the space rent from the next payment and I wish that the other residents would consider doing the same thing. This is just fucking ridiculous! We’ve ended up playing more water games here – with a city sewer rather than a private well – than we ever did with Jesse or even in Maricopa. If it isn’t that then it’s noise annoyances. The only distraction I heard yesterday, though, was somebody getting their car worked on just outside the back of the house and then I guess they towed it away. I’m sure there’ll be tons of landscaping racket today, along with the fucking guy that likes to work in his garage.

Sometimes when I think of the measly 12 grand my parents left me it still pisses me off. I mean really. I know I’m supposed to be grateful for anything I could get and all that, but still…that’s not the point. It still bothers me that they not only chose to give most of what they had to their grandkids but that most people inherit so much more than that even if it’s not in cash. Seriously, 12K in the US is a joke these days and it was in 2012, too. It was as if it was one final insult on my parents’ part, even if it really wasn’t, and one last slap in the face from God. God might as well have said, “Haha, first I let them abuse you when they were alive and now you only get 12 grand.”

Yeah, well, He may think it’s pretty fucking funny and while I am thankful that the money helped get us what we wanted which was this house (it’s still quieter than the mainstream), knowing that your average person inherits either cash, homes, or possessions worth a hell of a lot more has a way of bothering me for some reason. It’s just another one of those things that has a way of making me feel singled out and picked on even if it shouldn’t. But as my therapist would say, I’m not going to apologize or feel guilty for the way I feel no matter who may consider it selfish.

Andy irritated me the other day (as usual). I didn’t mean to intentionally insult him with something I said to him. I’m not him. I don’t go out of my way to annoy, insult or gross out those I consider friends. Anyway, I guess I worded what I said wrong or he misunderstood. Either way, he felt insulted and said that if it were the other way around our friendship would be over. But he has insulted me in the past and I’m still here. Yes, I walked away for a few weeks a few years ago when he insisted I was making up my sleep disorder and when he defended some people that have screwed my husband and I in the past without knowing the full story. But I didn’t dump him when he insulted me in regards to my driving phobia and then my husband for his lifestyle and the fact that he likes to spend the bulk of his free time either alone or with me when Andy himself has few friends, admits he likes to be a loner, and has had his own trust issues. In our case, though, spending our time alone or together is more of a preference thing than a trust thing, not that it should matter if it’s what we like and want. Same goes for him and what suits his own needs and preferences best.

The reason I didn’t dump him was that he not only didn’t keep on doing it, but he realized it was wrong of him and he apologized to me for it, which I greatly appreciated. After all, we all have a right to be who/what we are so long as we’re happy and not hurting anyone, and he wouldn’t want to be judged for being gay or anything like that. So knowing full well what it’s like to be judged, picked on or criticized simply for being yourself, there haven’t been any problems. That’s why I didn’t dump him. It’s those who feel the need to constantly judge, condemn and insult me after I’ve let them know how I feel about it that I won’t put up with. Some might call it “giving up on friends,” but I call it having enough self-respect to walk away from those who can’t accept me as I am.

Although Andy and I have evolved into what seems like two totally different people in more ways than not, we’re able to accept that we don’t share many of the same beliefs or interests these days, and so be it. Acceptance is important to me. Especially after the kind of childhood I had where I was forced to be just about everybody and everything I was not. I don’t give a shit if someone likes orange soda. Just don’t expect me to drink the crap because you do. :)

Without meaning to, we all say and do things every now and then that offend our friends. It’s being able to realize it and not do it again that matters, not how perfect you can be all the time because no one is perfect.

I do wonder at times, though, if he does little things to deliberately annoy me or if he’s just that selfish. Like how he went on and on about celebrities while he was here and had to bring up blacks and ask Tom if his siblings keep in touch with him; something he should know the answer to. We hadn’t even pulled out of the train station parking lot when he was already mentioning God.

Writing prompt… Groups of favorites.

Favorite activities: Running, walking, biking, swimming, writing, reading, listening to music, studying languages, trying new things, sleeping, dreaming and most of all, spending time with my husband and pets, and keeping in touch with friends and other family members.

Favorite restaurants: I don’t really have any favorites but some of the ones I go to are Red Lobster, Denny’s, Mel’s Diner, KFC and Carl’s Jr.

Favorite people: My husband, my other family members that I am in touch with, and my friends. This includes those in cyberspace that I talk to regularly but have never met.

Favorite foods: Chinese and seafood are my favorite real foods. For snacks, I usually prefer something sweet as opposed to salty.

Favorite games: Not much of a gamer, but I do like Mahjong, Crazy Eights, Jezzball and solitaire.

Favorite drinks and beverages: I rarely drink alcoholic drinks, but when I do I usually just have wine coolers or something like that. My drinks usually consist of water, soda and coffee. I don’t usually have tea and juice very much, though sometimes I will have hot chocolate.

Favorite desserts: I love anything with caramel and chocolate, and I love cheesecake as well. For chips, I really like shrimp-flavored chips, Fritos, tortilla chips, Cheetos and Lays wavy potato chips.

Favorite websites: Prosebox, LiveJournal, Blogger, my-diary, NexusDesktop, Duolingo, Ask, Twitter, and I will only say Facebook cuz it’s where I keep in touch with those I’m closest to.

Favorite writers: Ruby Jean Jensen, Dean Koontz, John Saul, Mary Higgins Clark and Stephen King.

Later…

Got a busy few days coming up. Walmart and blood work today, various things tomorrow, and then Monday I have my endo appointment. Before seeing the doctor we’ll be looking at vinyl tiling at Home Depot and probably making other stops as well.

I had this sharp pulsating cramp in my chest yesterday, but since it was on the right side, that ruled out the heart. Then I felt it in my left lower gut. Someone said they get that when they’re low on iron. With my period in full swing, maybe I was.

Writing prompt… Saddest moments.

I know most people would say that one of their saddest moments in life was when they lost their parents. But that is not the case with me. My saddest moments were losing my first pet, a guinea pig, my mother sending me away, as well as the reality of knowing that I would not be able to touch my husband for half a year after the white-hating spiteful assholes and Arizona succeeded in setting me up so that I would do 6 months in jail. These were some of the saddest most depressing moments of my life.

For a while, I was even sad that I couldn’t have a child and that my supposed right as a woman to choose was denied to me until the idea of a child wore off on its own.

Losing our house and land in Arizona as well as losing our land in Oregon was also a very sad time for me.

Writing prompt… Happiness.

Happiness to me isn’t just something big like winning a million dollars. Happiness can be something as small as enjoying a good cup of hot chocolate. It can be spending time chatting with Tom and it can be joking about something online with a friend of mine. It can be going out to eat or it can be enjoying the smell of the latest perfume I bought. It can be going to sleep on a full stomach and peace of mind, knowing that there are no money issues to fret about.

Happiness to me isn’t just material things, but peace of mind and a deep sense of security and contentment.

Writing prompt… How do you deal with anger?

Unfortunately, anger isn’t something I’m great at dealing with. I don’t go and beat the people up that piss me off, and I don’t go hurling furniture across the room when something angers me, but it’s hard for me to just smile and say, “Oh, well. There will be better days.”

I try to just let myself feel what I’m going to feel and not stifle my emotions. I also try to look for any positives to whatever/whoever set me off, but I won’t kid myself either. I won’t try to justify someone’s poor sense of judgment, actions or behavior. I won’t sugarcoat a bad situation like if our roof started leaking really bad. I won’t try to tell myself that whatever’s up there “had its reasons.” If it “had its reasons” for letting me get into a serious car accident that was the other party’s fault, for example, then those reasons couldn’t have been good, and I would be angry that its intentions were to bring me into harm’s way just as I would the person at fault.

I may shout, swear and think nasty thoughts about those that piss me off, but I try not to resort to any kind of revenge because that can not only get me into trouble, but it makes me look just as bad as the other person.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 15, 2015 Writing prompt… What are you most looking forward to in life?

What am I looking forward to the most in life? Hmm… I really don’t have anything specific to look forward to, but actually many things. I look forward to each day that we can go without having to struggle financially. I look forward to each day that we have no health problems. That’s the main thing I look forward to. The rest is just secondary.

I look forward to doing a small trip to Reno in the spring. I look forward to going shopping at our favorite stores. I look forward to good books and movies. I look forward to continuing the house’s improvements. I look forward to my writing projects. I look forward to learning new languages and more of the ones I’ve already studied. I look forward to my current and future friends. I look forward to my current and future pets. I look forward to learning new things, even if they are trivial things I can never actually use to my benefit.

Writing prompt… Leaf through magazines and cut out random images to use as prompts.

I don’t have any magazines so I will just randomly browse websites and discuss what comes to mind with the first couple of pictures I see.

The first one shows what I assume to be a married woman and man posed with a boy and girl who I also assume are their children. To be honest, old-fashioned stereotypical images like this annoy me. I mean this is just so in the past. Sure there are still some couples who happen to be married that have a daughter and a son. But it’s not the “norm” society once fixated upon. As anyone with any degree of intelligence knows, there are no “norms,” especially these days. Unmarried couples are just as likely to have a boy and a girl as marrieds are likely to have no kids as a single Mom is likely to have 1 kid or even 4 kids. There simply are no “norms.” In some cases some things may be a little more common – hey it’s more common not to be born with a missing limb – but norms themselves are basically a joke.

Another image I see is that of a few cops and sadly, the first words that come to mind are “abuse” and “corruption.” I resent the media just as much as cops in general, not only because they tend to lie and exaggerate, but also because they tend to focus only on what the people want to hear. Police brutality affects ALL races. ALL races.

As studies have found, many cops have chosen their profession so they can act out their aggressiveness, and believe me, they don’t care who or what you are. They know they have more power than you do, they know they can get away with it, and that’s enough for them. They don’t give a damn about race, nationality or gender. It’s all about power to them and all they need to abuse is another human being. The only difference between police brutality against blacks as opposed to whites is that the blacks are the ones getting the media coverage.

Writing prompt… Look through your photographs and choose one to write about.

I see a picture of my mother when she was just ten years old hanging out with her own mother. This is way back in 1940 or so. The two of them appear to be enjoying each other’s company and very happy and carefree. When I first saw this picture it evoked feelings of surprise within me because both of them were notorious for being cold-hearted, abusive bitches. They hated each other and they hated just about everybody else in the world, too.

The first thing I said to my sister, who gave me the picture a few years ago after our Mom died, was that it was awfully hard to picture those two being as close as they appear to be in the photograph. Funny how things change, huh?

A letter came in the mail from my old endocrinologist saying that she was moving to Southern California and all her patients were going to be turned over to their primary physicians. Technically, one with Hashimoto’s disease does not need to see an endocrinologist. A primary care doctor can treat it just as easily. They can write prescriptions for the necessary medications just as easily, and they can send them to the lab for blood work, as well as for ultrasounds. So if I had remained with Sutter, I wouldn’t have been stuck with Dr. D forever.

I still miss Dr. C at times, but as Tom said, I was horrible under her care. It was so true, too. It’s like she knew what she was doing but she didn’t. She just didn’t get me, and she hadn’t had enough experience with patients yet, but I suppose there was some good in her. The way she initially handled me when I got all stressed out was great, and of course it’s hard to forget being told you’re beautiful by one who was even more beautiful than I was when I was young and skinny, haha. The only boring body part that I could see was her eyes.

But when you get all that out of the picture, you have a doctor who definitely didn’t see the big picture where I was concerned and who wanted to resort to ridiculous remedies and solutions that weren’t necessary. I needed less medication, not a shrink. I also still wish she had done my toe right the first time around, too.

I swear, though, God really, really does find a way to get the hotties out of my life relatively quickly. The pattern’s obvious. As soon as I have a crush on someone or I really like someone for some reason, He makes sure that circumstances come up so that I never see them again. They move. We move. We change plans. Anything to get me away from the hotties. I can sit and stare at her picture on my computer, but that’s not the same as actually seeing her (or other hotties) in person and actually talking to them.

Meanwhile, Dr. A is just there and I can’t imagine being hot for Dr. O just based on her picture, so I’m sure I’ll be with them for many years to come.

In the end, though, personality and competence are always more important than looks. Still… it would be a nice bonus if something good looking can stay in my life for more than a year.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 14, 2015 Writing prompt… The worst thing I ever did.

The worst thing I ever did was go to court when last summoned. I know it sounds funny as hell, but it is my biggest regret ever. I learned that day just how important it is for us to listen to what our gut tells us. I’m not going to get into a story I’ve been through so many times before, but just to make a very long story short, I was in the process of being legally railroaded 15 years ago, and I knew it, too. Every ounce of my gut instinct screamed and demanded that I did not go to court. There’s doing what the law says and then there’s doing what’s right. Yes, there would have been a Failure to Appear warrant out on me, but if you don’t have any additional police contact, at least until the warrant expires (and yes, some really do expire), you should be okay.

Why I made it easier for them to screw me like I did and to tell me, a 34-year-old, what to do, was truly stupid. I wouldn’t give any other stranger that much respect. Yet I stupidly ignored the bad feeling that ate at me, went to court, and walked right into the trap that awaited me. It was a form of senseless suicide you could say.

I would never dispense any legal advice to anyone else, but if I ever received another subpoena in my life, though I’d certainly rather not, it’s going to be torn up and tossed in the trash. Period. Unless anyone kicked my door down and forced me out of here, I don’t succumb to demands or threats or go anywhere I am told to go unless I am a totally willing participant.

Writing prompt… What’s your secret desire?

I can’t really say that I have any secret desires because I just can’t imagine wanting something that I felt I had to keep a secret. Wish I could come up with some exciting and surprising answer for this one but I really can’t. Anything I currently desire is no secret and I don’t expect anything that I may desire in the future to be a secret either.

The only “secret” desires are those that are unrealistic or totally impossible. Like being invisible for a while so I could walk up to an unknowing person, tap them and watch them look around with confusion. And like having fun slowly torturing those that had a hand in screwing me the most in life.

Writing prompt… What’s the most outrageous thing you’ve ever done?

This is another one I don’t have an exciting answer for. I mean what do you consider “outrageous?” To me, outrageous is going around the world beheading people who are different than you. Refusing funeral services to someone simply because they were gay… that’s outrageous. That’s outrageous.

I suppose some may see my once being an exotic dancer as a bit outrageous, but there’s outrageous and then there’s OUTRAGEOUS. And I don’t think anything I’ve done thus far really constitutes being outrageous. Sure have had some outrageous thoughts, though, LOL.

Writing prompt… The most terrifying moment of my life.

My most terrifying moment was last summer when I thought I accidentally overdosed on my thyroid medication. Instead, I would end up going through the most hellish side effects I ever experienced for a few months. It took me what was then 48 years to have my most terrifying moment, even though I’ve actually been closer to death in the past than I was last summer.

The side effects caused me to have the most heart-pounding anxiety I had ever felt in my life, bordering on sheer terror. I thought it would never end. Even today I am on constant alert for the slightest hints of these feelings returning. It was very scary and just the thought of ever going through that again is pretty horrifying.

Writing prompt… The most fun I ever had.

The most fun I ever had was definitely that one magical week we spent in Maui. I thought we would spend most of it relaxing on the beach and dining and shopping, but we did a lot more than just that.

We went catamaran sailing, we went on a submarine tour, we went snorkeling and we also attended a luau. I would love for us to retire there someday, though this doesn’t seem very likely.

Writing prompt… The most surprised I’ve ever been.

Life is full of surprises. That saying really is very true. I have been surprised many times in life and it’s really hard to just pick one thing I consider the most surprising.

I’m surprised to have met somebody as wonderful as Tom. I’m surprised that I finally managed to quit smoking. I’m surprised that I got to escape New England and live in other parts of the country. I’m surprised I have studied so many languages. I’m surprised I became a published author. I’m surprised at all the winning I did for a few years there before all the competition came to make entering contests and sweepstakes a complete waste of time, or pretty close to it. I’m surprised to be able to say that I’ve been in a submarine before.

Writing prompt… The most disappointed I’ve ever been.

I would say that the most disappointing thing in life has been the horses. I know many of you are probably experiencing a real WTF moment right now.

Many years ago Tom wrote a handicapping program that could predict winning racehorses. Its accuracy was amazing and it looked so promising. We knew that if it continued to work out it could easily make us several hundred dollars a day. However, it turned out to be a bust in the end. It was very sad, frustrating and disappointing to see him put so much time and work into the program which looked so, so promising.

Later…

Tammy left a VM saying that she and Mark have been ill. What else is new?

Irene said she wrote Nane a week ago but hasn’t heard back from her. This doesn’t surprise me even though she’s on Facebook nearly every day playing backgammon.

Andy got suspended from Facebook for a week for posting nudity. Some people just never learn from their mistakes, do they? Even so, there’s tons of nudity, gore, hate and other shit on Facebook yet nothing gets done about that. So why him?

My heart started racing for a few minutes early yesterday morning, but luckily for me, I have learned not to panic and let it get worse. I simply told myself to calm down, took slow, deep breaths, swore to myself and whatever’s up there that may hear me that I wouldn’t take any shit from it, and it slowed down.

I still send speech-to-text updates to Tom throughout the part of the day I’m awake. I’m half on days now and half on nights. As soon as I was getting up out of my chair just after 10 a.m. yesterday morning I heard the whirring of a saw or a sander startup in the garage at the corner. Is this going to be a daily thing now?

As I was telling Andy, I am so shocked and so disappointed to learn that retirement communities aren’t nearly as quiet as I thought they would be. Unless it’s raining really hard, super hot, nighttime, or the weekend, I can almost always hear something going on. If it isn’t traffic it’s landscapers and if it isn’t landscapers it’s someone doing some home improvement or woodworking project.

I keep hoping that the houses closest to the little cock will complain but of course they never would unless he did it at night. Meanwhile, he’s free to start his shit up between 10 and 11 a.m. And not stop until it’s dark as has been his habit lately.

I expected to hear more noise upon moving here as far as dogs go, people coming and going, their company coming and going, yet I lucked out in those areas. But what I do hear is plenty annoying enough. Whenever I would think of retirement communities I would picture old people who spend most of their time in front of their TV, reading, crocheting or playing cards. Not hanging outside building birdhouses and a slew of other shit that can be heard several houses away.

In my dreams last night we were staying at a hotel. Just what is it with all these hotel and apartment dreams all of a sudden anyway?

Tom was out somewhere and I was sitting down in the lobby on a bench waiting for him to return. A young couple sat down next to me. I’m not sure who initiated the conversation, though I doubt it was me. It soon came out that the woman’s name was also Jodi but she spelled it differently. When I realized that they were the ones living above us, I said, “Oh, so you’re the ones with heavy footsteps pounding on top of my head?” And then I chuckled and kindly asked them to tread a little lighter if they could.

The woman just kind of smiled guiltily, but the guy remained quiet and expressionless the entire time.

Had a strange dream dealing with our central air conditioner too, but I don’t know if we were living in a house or an apartment. I just know that for some strange reason, I felt compelled to drill a hole in the floor of the bedroom closet because I believed it would make the bedroom cooler. Even stranger was when I pulled the piece of flooring up and looked down into what seemed like an endless shaft that led to nowhere. Suddenly realizing how foolish it was for me to tear the floor up since we had a working central air system, I replaced the piece of floorboard.

TUESDAY, JANUARY 13, 2015 Writing prompt… Movies.

My movie genre preference is similar to my book genre preference. I like mystery, suspense, thrillers, paranormal and some drama with very few exceptions along the way.

One such exception was the movie Titanic. The one starring Leonard DiCaprio and Kate Winslet. Of course I loved The Wizard of Oz as a child, and for comedy, I really liked the Police Academy series. My sci-fi exception was definitely the Terminator, especially Terminator 2.

Not much more I can say on this subject other than that I think I’ll go browse through some horror movies on Amazon Prime and see if there’s anything I want to watch tonight.

Writing prompt… Songs

I know that for most people it’s the sound of the singer, the appearance of the singer, or the lyrics that gets somebody interested in a particular song. For me, however, it’s the music. If I like the way the music sounds then it really doesn’t matter who’s singing it, what they look like, or what they’re saying.

I used to be really big on songs from the seventies and eighties and I still am, but I got a little tired of them after so many years of listening to them. For several years I liked modern stuff as well as oldies. Lately, though, I have become bored shitless by modern music. It’s like it’s the same old shit no matter where you go.

These days I don’t have any favorites where singers and bands are concerned. I like many genres of music except for some hardcore rap, heavy metal, gospel, jazz, classical and most country music.

Writing prompt… Short-Term Goals

One short-term goal is to get on with the home improvements. We took a break from that for a while and soon I will want to resume our plans to upgrade the place little by little. I expect we’ll put thousands of dollars into this house over the next few years alone.

I also hope to get my thyroid and medication issues squared away and end up on a dose that I can handle without side effects. I don’t care if I’m never able to lose the extra weight, but I definitely care about not suffering the way I did last year. It was a really horrible thing to go through.

So other than that and to just hope that things run smoothly as they have been overall, that’s really all I have for short-term goals.

Writing prompt… Long-Term Goals

My long-term goal is for us to move to a tropical climate someday, probably when he retires. It is the one climate I have yet to experience living in. I have lived where they have real winters, I have lived in seasonal but more temperate climates such as where we are now, and I have lived in the desert.

I would really love to move to Maui, but I don’t think that’s a very realistic dream. It’s just way too expensive there, even though there are ways to get around some of the expenses.

I think that more than likely we will end up in Florida, and that’s okay too. I look forward to it, assuming nothing comes up to either kill us or trap us here forever.

Writing prompt… Nobody knows.

Nobody knows what I’m not willing to let anybody know. It’s that simple. :) If there is anything that I haven’t told anybody it was probably for a reason. So then why would I mention it here?

I guess my response to this particular prompt is lame as hell. Okay, nobody knows I just took a sip of water. There. I just confessed something nobody knew until now. :)

Writing prompt… I never told you.

If there’s something that I never told a particular person, it was most likely because I either didn’t know where they were or it wasn’t important enough for me to tell them. I’m usually pretty straightforward and if I really want somebody to know something, I find a way to get the message to them.

Right now there really isn’t much that I haven’t gotten off my chest to those who have burned me in the past, for example, and I don’t have any deep dark secrets that I feel a need to hide from anybody. Sure, there is always more I could say to those who have wronged me, but I know that it really wouldn’t do me any good. It may make me feel better to a degree to give them a verbal shakedown, but I have talked things out both with those I’m closest to as well as in my journal. I know that my words would likely go in one ear and out the other if I spoke directly to them anyway. If somebody doesn’t believe they’ve done anything wrong or they don’t want to believe they have, then they’re not going to admit what they’ve done and apologize. Usually, when we confront somebody who has wronged us their first instinct is to counterattack no matter how right we may be. Especially if they really do know that they’re guilty of something and are afraid to admit it.

So as far as the “I never told you” thing, there really isn’t much to say in that department. I mean, I never told Kate Jackson that I really loved her on Charlie’s Angels, and that’s because I never met her.

Writing prompt… The biggest lie I ever told.

This one took me time to think about because it was really hard to come up with a grand lie I told as an adult because of the way I have such a blunt nature. As a child I lied to escape punishment, but as an adult, who can come and spank me or take away my prized possessions for a few weeks because of something I say?

I hate to lie because the more lies you tell, the more you have to tell to cover your ass and that can get pretty confusing. I always try to be as honest as I can even though nobody has such power and control over me that they could use anything I say against me in the way they could when I was a child.

Other than maybe softening the truth and leaving some details out of things, the only real “lie” I told as an adult was a denial of guilt in court when charged with prank phone calls over 20 years ago.

So the biggest lie I ever told was probably when I was a kid, like when I tried to tell everyone that I was bionic and to convince people that I had superhuman strength and all kinds of cool powers. Yeah, I would do silly things like that at times. I would try to convince my classmates that I was magic and all kinds of stupid shit like that. I suppose a lot of kids do similar things, but of course my mother had to make me feel like I did something as horrible as beat some poor classmate to death over the head with a book or something.

Writing prompt… Guilt.

When I think of what makes me feel guilty there are two things that come to mind. The first one is how I pushed a girl off of a pile of rocks that people loved to climb at the beach where we would spend our summers. I did this for no reason at all. I simply did it just because I could, never realizing that I could have seriously hurt or even killed her. I don’t even remember who she was or what her name was. She was just someone I’d see at the beach. I would gladly apologize to her if I could.

The second thing that makes me feel guilty is when I dumped my cat, Shadow, in Paradise Valley, Arizona. I had just arrived in Phoenix from New England and moved into an apartment. I was broke, starving, and the bitch of a manager threaten to evict me if I didn’t get rid of the cat because I wasn’t in an apartment that allowed pets.

I know I should have dropped Shadow off at the pound even though he would have been put to sleep more than likely. Back then my attitude was hey, it’s an animal. He’ll survive on his own.

And maybe he did. Maybe somebody gave him a nice home. But then again maybe he died of hunger and thirst in the intense desert heat. I’ll never know for sure what became of him, the cat that loved and trusted me even though he was an obnoxious little devil at times. Even though this was over 20 years ago, a part of me will always feel a bit guilty when I think of him.

Later…

Feeling a little jittery tonight, but it’s more in an annoying kind of way than a scary way. I have no idea if it’s my medication, my thyroid, or just me. It’s kind of hard to believe it’s the medication because I’m still only on 25 micrograms of levothyroxine. I even stopped losing hair, finally. I guess my body is used to it now.

Tom and I have planned a small trip to Reno in the spring. You have to go over the Sierra Nevada Mountains to get there and going in the winter isn’t a great idea because you could get stuck in a snowstorm. In the spring we won’t have to worry about that and the brats will still be in school. We’ll probably only stay a night or two and have fun gambling and shopping. It won’t be Hawaii, but it will be a fun break from the same old, same old. It’s about a 2-hour drive. Not being that far from home gives us the option of being more spontaneous as far as how long we stay. I’ve been to Nevada before, both Vegas and Laughlin, but I have never been to Reno. It’s no place I’d ever want to live because it snows there. Not like up in Klamath Falls, but just one snowflake is too much for me.

Tom decided he’s going to get serious about coding, starting with phone apps. He realizes that he can say he wants to do something, or he can actually do it. No matter how overwhelming a task may seem at times, the best way to get started is to just do it.

So I go into my bedroom to get ready to shower where I can see myself quite well with all these floor-to-ceiling mirrors and the big mirror in the bathroom, strip naked and wow! I’m not only noticeably thinner despite the scale only being down a few pounds, but you can definitely tell I’m in shape for one less than a year from the half-century marker. Sure enough, my measurements are down a bit more. I still think I’m gonna cancel my next NS shipment cuz it’s going WAY too slow given my thyroid issues. I’ll do my own NS-based plan… not just eating right most days but not eating big portions. Of course I’ll still work out most days cuz that’s fun for me no matter what. It’s 45° and dropping out there. Too cold to go down the rollercoaster and up by the lake on the bike so I guess I’ll make it a treadmill night even if that’s not as fun. It’s not even mid-January and I am sooo sick of winter! Gibt mir das Frühlingswetter!

Nane didn’t take me into the woods to kill me, she took me there to kiss me, LOL. I was in Germany visiting some people that she knows in my dreams, and I think Christiane and Irene may have been there. Nane wouldn’t talk to me for the first part of our hiking or camping trip or whatever the hell it was we were doing. I wanted to go walking in the woods with somebody who promised to take me on a trail they were familiar with but that somebody ended up getting a headache or something like that, so Nane took me instead.

At first I happily commented on the sights and sounds around me both in English and German and then I suddenly became nervous. I spun around and looked at Nane who was casually leaning against a tree staring at me. It then dawned on me that she might have volunteered to walk me into the woods so she could harm me in some way, still pissed at me for dumping her. Instead, she started kissing me. :)

Then I was living someplace where there were four bathrooms. I had to pee really bad yet despite having that many bathrooms, someone (God knows who) was in every single one of them.

Then Tom and I went to different stores to do some shopping. After I picked out what I wanted in a clothing store, I sat on a bench and observed the people around me while I waited for Tom to pick me up. The store had a fairly decent amount of customers in it and most were middle-aged to older. The floor had flat carpet and the windows on the exterior walls were sunken in that they were in this little alcove of sorts.

A younger woman who was closest to where I sat started commenting to me about these dresses that were on sale for just $5. I rose from the bench and studied them. They were all solid red cotton dresses, only some were sleeveless and some had short sleeves. The woman said she was excited about the upcoming warm spell so she could wear dresses like that.

I decided I didn’t want any and then realized I didn’t have my purse and purchases in my hand with me. Just as I was about to freak out, I looked over and saw that they were still on the bench that I had been sitting on, amazed that nobody had stolen them while my attention was diverted.

In the last dream, I remember we were renting an apartment for several months before moving someplace, but I don’t know where. All I know is that it was as noisy as most apartments are. I was bitching about it to Tom in the car as we were heading somewhere, saying that nobody would do anything about it and how talking to the residents did me no good and neither would talking to the office. In my mind, I figured that whatever was up there would make sure that my final month there was hell.

MONDAY, JANUARY 12, 2015 Writing prompt… Fame.

Do I have any famous or high-profile relatives? No, I don’t. I do have a distant cousin who is a published author and who has appeared on the Oprah Winfrey show, but the most famous person that I ever met is actually Big Bird from Sesame Street. One of my childhood friends is his adopted daughter.

Writing prompt… Dear past me.

Dear past me,

Why were you so damn naive at times? There are so many things you could have and perhaps should have done differently. Maybe not so much that you might have done them better, but definitely much more efficiently. On the other hand, were all young, dumb and naive at some point in our lives, so I won’t hold it against you. You simply did what you felt was best to do at the time and given what knowledge and experience you had at the moment. So yeah, you fucked up here and there. But then again we all do.

Writing prompt… Dear future me.

Dear future me,

You have learned so much in life. I hope you will utilize your knowledge to the utmost best of your ability for the remainder of your life. Remember, life isn’t so much about never making mistakes as it is about not repeating the same mistakes over and over again. Be yourself, use your best judgment, and never give up before you try.

Writing prompt… What is your take on soul mates?

I’m one of the very few and the very lucky ones to have found her soul mate. I think that unfortunately most people never meet their ideal mates. For most people, I think that fantasy is one thing while reality is another. Our soul mates may not mimic our fantasies 100 percent, but there is no doubting it when we meet them.

My take on soul mates is pretty simple. Our true soul mate loves and accepts us just as we are. They encourage us to improve in a loving, non-pushy way and not a controlling and manipulative way. They never try to shape and mold us into who they are or who they think we should be. They accept our weaknesses and appreciate our strengths. They are there for us during the bad times as well as the good and they never judge us. They are honest with us, they respect us, and they would love us the same if we were disfigured in a fire or something like that. They consider us as well as themselves and they really listen to us and pay attention to the things we say and do.

Writing prompt… Worry.

I’ve always been one to worry. I’m just a total worry wart. Most of my worries are things like something possibly happening to Tom, or us falling in some financial jam as we have in the past, and sometimes I even worry about those who screwed me in Arizona hunting me down and doing God only knows what to me. My rational side says they would have by now, but life is full of nasty surprises at times, and someone connected to them was playing around online with me just a few years ago that I know of. They’re definitely not my biggest worry in life, though.

The things that I tend to worry about come in all sizes. Some are big, some are small. Sometimes I worry about how tired I may be on any given day that I may want to do something in particular while other times I’ll worry about what the future may hold for us.

Writing prompt… Places you’ve enjoyed visiting.

Although I haven’t traveled very often, I have definitely been to many places, including other countries. I’ve been all over the US except for some of the Midwestern states. I grew up in Massachusetts and we had a summer cottage down in Connecticut. My first short-distance trip was to camp in Maine and then to New York when my school went to the Trade Center.

My first long-distance trip was to Texas where my sister lived for a while. Then again, that might have been my second long-distance trip. Pretty sure we went to Florida when I was a baby. I definitely went to Florida when I was 22 and then again when I was 24. This was in the late 80s and early 90s.

In the mid-90s I went to places like Vegas, where I was married. Laughlin, which is also in Nevada, and SoCal.

In January of 2007, I won a Caribbean cruise. We were living in Oregon at the time and it was a wonderful break from the icy cold and snow. We sailed from Florida to the Bahamas and Puerto Rico. We tried to make it to the Grand Turks and Caicos Islands, but stormy weather prevented us from docking safely.

The best trip was to Ka’anapali, Hawaii on the island of Maui just last year. Originally the trip was supposed to be to Italy, but the travel company I won the credit from allowed us to pick our own destination.

We had so much fun there! We swam in pools, but mostly in the ocean. We snorkeled and attended a luau. We went catamaran sailing and on a submarine tour. It was the busiest, most adventurous, and fun week of my life!

Writing prompt… Three things.

This prompt asks me a series of questions that involve three things. First one is… What three things can I not go without? Air, water and food.

What are my three celebrity crushes? Kate Jackson, Linda Ronstadt and Gloria Estefan. That ought to tell you how long it’s been since I’ve been into celebrities, haha.

My three favorite things to wear… That would be my long light blue fleece robe, My new 1-piece pajamas, and the colorful dress I got in Hawaii.

Three things I want in a relationship… Honesty, respect and acceptance.

If I had to evacuate my home because of a natural disaster, I would try to grab my pets, and hopefully at least my smartphone since my desktop would be too heavy, and probably my medication.

My three pet peeves… Screaming kids, barking dogs, and blasting car stereos.

Three things I would do if I wasn’t so afraid… I would not be afraid of spiders. I would not be afraid to get in a car and drive it. I definitely wouldn’t be so afraid of death and dying.

My three favorite TV shows… The original Charlie’s Angels, The Bionic Woman, and Twin Peaks. I also loved the original Law & Order series and Little House on the Prairie. But that’s five things instead of three.

If I could ask a genie to grant me three wishes, they would be to not worry so much about what the future may hold, to never have money problems again, and to remain happy and healthy for the rest of my life.

Writing prompt… Things you’ve done that you previously thought you could never do.

I smoked for about 18 years and I never thought I could get off of the damn things. I tried and tried and tried to no avail, then one day I finally succeeded.

Even a relationship seemed totally impossible at one point let alone a marriage of over 20 years.

Later…

Had a little bit of a scare early this morning after Tom went to work. It was the end of my day since I’m now on nights. I got in the bed and it felt like my heart was beating a little too hard. Earlier I noticed that I felt a bit short of breath. I told myself to calm down, it was nothing, and that I would be fine. I still ended up nervous enough to call Tom at work who helped calm me down. We think it’s because I ate a little more than I have in quite a while and my body was working harder to digest the extra food.

These things don’t scare me as much as they used to which is both good and bad, I suppose. Obviously, it’s a good thing that I was only a little nervous instead of absolutely terrified, but sadly, it means I’m getting used to them the more they happen. I don’t think these beatfests are ever going to stop completely. I just have a natural tendency towards tachycardia. It’s probably done this more times than I’ve noticed in the past, but I just didn’t pay much attention to it because it wasn’t something I worried about as much.

After my heart stopped racing I turned ice cold and I had the shakes really bad. I trembled so hard that I was worried for a minute I might actually bite my tongue, but that didn’t last longer than a few minutes.

I slept later than my goal, which is good since I still gotta flip my schedule, but it wasn’t without a wake-up call. No, it was traffic. Instead, I had a really sharp cramp-like pain in my very lower gut. I don’t know what that was all about but it was strong enough to wake me up.

Then after I did get up I was surprised when my period snuck up on me a few days early. This is the second month it’s been early. What is it with these things? First they’re late, now they’re early.

Right now I have a slightly funny feeling when I swallow, and felt these quick flashes of a cramp-like feeling toward the left of my heart where the boob meets the side. Can’t my body just leave me alone for once?

I had a dream I was waitressing in this restaurant and I doubted myself big time, knowing it was something I didn’t have the knack for. The woman training me seemed to sense my doubt and perhaps she doubted me as well. I assured her that if I kept messing up, we could both give me the boot. Then some guy at a table of 4 asked for tea, which I could barely see because the lighting was so dim in the place. I brought him a cup of tea with the tea bag inside of the cup and I wondered to myself if I was supposed to put the tea bag in the cup as I had or let the guy do it himself.

Writing prompt… Admiration

I admire those with patience. I admire those who can take the time to keep going over and over the same damn things with those who are slow to get things.

I admire those who can deal with those who just can’t shut up and aren’t good listeners because they’re too selfish to care what they might have to say when they feel the need to get something out.

I admire those who can keep a positive attitude no matter how bleak the future may look.

I admire those who can accept things as they are.

I admire those who know how to give up and move on when a fight to achieve something has been lost, and those who know how to keep going when the fight hasn’t yet been lost.

I admire those who don’t live in fear of what awaits them at the end of their lives and possibly beyond.

I admire those who don’t do the ‘what if’ game so often and can live in the moment only.

I admire those who aren’t afraid to be themselves and tell it like it is without making any excuses or apologies for thinking, feeling, and believing as they do, and for living their lives as they see fit whether it’s “normal” or not.

I admire those who know when to let go when somebody they want as a friend or perhaps more than just a friend isn’t interested in them.

I admire those who see the positive in the negative and don’t always focus on the negative only.

I admire those who don’t feel the need to push and control others and can just accept them as they are and simply ignore those they can’t accept.

I admire those who are there for their friends and family during the bad times as well as the good times.

Writing prompt… Books

I have always been a fan of mostly mystery books. I prefer to read books with lots of twists and turns and surprise endings, but even some of the more predictable ones can be entertaining, too. I’m not really fond of romance, comedy, Westerns, science fiction and things like that. I’m more of a mystery, suspense, thriller, and paranormal kind of person.

One of my favorite books was The Haunting by Ruby Jean Jensen. It was your typical ghost story but it wasn’t.

I like books that are packed with action instead of those where you read 20 pages and then realize nothing’s really happened.

SUNDAY, JANUARY 11, 2015 Really don’t have a lot to update on other than dreams. I’ll get to the journal prompt of the day soon, but that will be in another entry.

The only disturbing dreams I remember from last night was one where we had planned to go on vacation somewhere, but I was too ill to travel. I don’t know if I was just very sick or if I was actually dying, but what did seem a little unnerving about it was that my dream self seemed to think that it was the only chance I’d ever get to go wherever it was we were going to go.

In another dream, I was renting a place from a cousin of mine and was having to relearn how to do things all by myself instead of with somebody else. It was a rather sad dream, but I’m not worried about it because I would never live without Tom no matter how much money and help I had.

Tom was coming home from work or wherever in another dream where we had a double-car attached garage. I heard him pull in and I opened the door leading to the garage which was pitch dark. I must have been in a really cold place because the air that wafted in through the doorway was very chilly.

The last dream I remember was one of me dancing way better than I ever could in real life. Me and a few other nameless, faceless people were dancing for one of the characters in one of the books I wrote a few years ago, LOL, only she was going by the name of Rose Louise. The other girls were pretty average dancers, but I really blew everybody’s mind with my leaps, spins and jumps and all that.

Later…

Today’s journal prompt is… what scares me.

I have always been afraid of death and dying and the possibility of an afterlife. I fear dying a slow and painful death that seems to last an eternity. I also fear dying alone or with those that don’t really give a shit about me.

I used to be pretty certain that there was an afterlife perhaps because I wanted there to be one. I liked the idea of an afterlife and sometimes that’s all it takes for us to believe in something if we don’t look at the possibilities through a more logical and scientific eye. I guess I just didn’t want to think that this was it.

In recent years, however, I’m not sure what I believe. There’s nothing to prove that there is an afterlife but there’s also nothing to prove that there isn’t an afterlife. Since anything is possible this is something that has always been a scary idea to me as well. Not knowing what could possibly lie beyond and whether or not it could be even worse than our worst moments on earth is a bit scary. It is human nature to fear the unknown.

I’ve also been scared of the thought of losing Tom before I die, and knowing that I couldn’t go on without him and that I wouldn’t want to, but also being afraid to botch up my suicide and possibly even chicken out altogether at the same time I knew I couldn’t go on living. It would be just about the worst situation I could possibly be in to watch the one I love most in life die, know I couldn’t go on without him, but not have the guts to end it all. A lot of people believe it takes more guts to live than it does to die but that’s not the point. The point is that if you’re absolutely totally miserable, then guts don’t matter. Guts are pretty irrelevant if you’re miserable or suffering in any way. That’s like saying it takes more guts to keep your leg pinned under a boulder than to seek help, relief and freedom. This doesn’t mean I would advocate, promote and suggest suicide, it just means that sometimes it really is best for certain individuals if they no longer live, just like when it comes to people and animals that are suffering. It takes guts to walk a 30-foot tightrope too, but it doesn’t mean we should all do it.

I don’t actively fear being eaten by a pack of wolves or dying in a house fire or anything like that on a regular basis, but death, dying, and a possible afterlife, are very scary things to think about.

Later…

This will be my last journal prompt for the day, which speaks of plans. Plans that I currently have and plans that have fallen through.

I don’t currently have any grand plans at the moment. Nothing too specific anyway. There are still many things I would like to do, but I don’t have any deadlines or timeframes as far as that goes. They happen when they happen. My basic plan is just to keep happy, healthy and active both physically and intellectually.

As for plans falling through… you bet I have! Many times. I think the top two are definitely when we bought a 10-acre parcel of land and a brand-new home in Arizona. Also when we bought a 3-acre parcel of land in Oregon we planned to build a dome house on. Everything about that went to hell.

Life doesn’t seem to be what we plan for the most part, but more like one big unexpected accident. It seems we are more of a product of fate than actual planning, not that this is always a bad thing. Sure it may suck to get something in mind, map out a plan, and not be able to act upon it. But then something better may come along and you may be glad your original plans fell through. I actually find that the more I plan, the less likely I am to achieve. I could go on and on with all the plans I mapped out that never came to be, though I certainly did manage to nab some of them. I am actually glad that many of my so-called plans fell through in the end. My idea of “plans” wasn’t always very good.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 10, 2015 Life is still running in a predictable fashion, but a good one. No real complaints other than life’s usual annoyances we all have to deal with. I hope it stays this way, too. I don’t want any more medication drama in the future! On the bright side, I know what’s too much for me. All I have to do if I run into trouble is lower my dose. The only problem is that recovery takes time. It’s not like flicking a light switch off when it comes to these types of drugs. Levothyroxine takes time to build up in the body and time to leave it as well.

I should now be down 6-8 pounds but am only down 3.4 with what’s probably a pound or two of water on me at the moment. The plan is still the same… to stick out the rest of the month even though I don’t expect to lose much more than maybe another pound or two, then return to what I was doing before. That means I basically stay the same weight for as long as I can. With Hashimoto’s, you’ve pretty much got two choices. You can either gain weight or you can maintain it.

We changed the rats’ cage and went bike riding down the “rollercoaster” and around to the lake. We sat at the lake and watched the ducks and geese till my heart slowed down a bit. They watched us curiously, disappointed to find we hadn’t brought them any food, and then I followed Tom most of the way back which meant this speed racer had to ride slow, LOL. I should have worn a T-shirt instead of a long-sleeved sweater.

Right now we’re just hanging out relaxing and doing stuff online. He’s watching a movie now on his computer. I gotta stay up till 6am as part of my schedule-flipping plan and so I have a long night ahead of reading, movies, language studies, and whatever else I can think of to entertain myself and pass the time with. Maybe I’ll think of something more interesting to write about at some point during the night.

Later…

Perhaps I should use some of those writing prompts they have in order to help me think of things to write about besides what’s going on in the immediate moment. Sometimes I’m in the mood to write, but I have already updated what’s going on with me and so I don’t have a clue what to say. At the same time, there isn’t much about my life, past and not, that I haven’t written about. So if I were asked about my family, for example, that could be found within my entries.

Maybe I should randomly look online right now and just browse websites until I see something that might spark a good idea for a topic to write about. Okay, I saw a blog title about strange laws. Let’s talk about crime and punishment then.

Even though I’ve already said a million times before that I think the laws should focus more on what people do instead of what they say or write or think, I will say that this opinion has not changed. They complain and complain about how overcrowded the jails and prisons are, but think about how much room they would have for real criminals if they let the non-violent offenders go and just put them on probation and all that. I really think jails and prisons should be reversed for violent people only, as well as those who put others at risk. Take arson for example. Say you burn a building down and you don’t think anyone is inside it because your goal is to burn the building and not kill anyone. But you might very well kill someone by accident and so I can see a prison sentence for those people as well.

Those who commit or attempt to commit violent or sexual acts should be locked away probably forever. But I honestly don’t see the point in locking up some mother and taking her away from her children just because she might have a drug problem. So force her to go to drug rehab instead, for God’s sake, and don’t take her away from her children. It just seems like people stand to lose way too much if they’re locked up when they’re not even dangerous to society. I’m not saying we shouldn’t punish them, I’m just saying that I don’t see the point in taking people away from their jobs, homes and families simply because they might have stolen something or something like that. Fines, probation, counseling… I think that this is punishment enough, especially since it’s been proven a long time ago that harsher sentences do not deter crime. People think they’re invincible. They don’t think they’re going to get caught and so they don’t plan on getting caught. That saying “life isn’t what we plan it” rings truer than true when it comes to the vast majority of criminals.

Tomorrow I’ll start doing entries that cover stuff going on in the present, and then I will write entries based on prompts.

I place my smartphone in my bike basket to play music while riding. At one point I had to get off my bike to restart the music because I heard a text notification sound, which stopped the music, even though no new texts were visible. I later asked Alison if she texted me and she said no, because she knows I like to hang with Tom and others around the park on weekends. Now that’s someone with consideration, which I greatly appreciate. Wish more people were more considerate of others and their preferences instead of always thinking about themselves only.

FRIDAY, JANUARY 9, 2015 The hot redheaded chick from my dreams of two nights ago didn’t return to rub suntan lotion on me, but I sure woke up on the wrong side of the bed today. First the fucking traffic woke me up and then I woke up an hour before I wanted to. Right now I’m trying to flip my schedule for seeing my new endo doctor on the 19th.

Then I got up with a cramp in my shoulder and sore boobies as my period gets closer. I’m guessing it will be on time now that I’m back on the medication. Then I go to take a tinkle and get the shit scared out of me when I flush the toilet. The park obviously turned our water off again because it was spitting air at me really loud and that’s what startled me. That’s something like the 3rd or 4th time in less than a month, too. They really need to stop this shit before I seriously consider skipping out on a month’s space rent. I don’t give a shit how old these pipes are, if they had done it right the first time around and replaced everything at once like they should have, we wouldn’t have to keep playing these water games. This is why I try to avoid showering and running the dishwasher and the washer during the daytime, especially the shower in the dishwasher. The washer would simply wait until the water was turned back on, but the dishwasher’s motor could burn up. I won’t get into how pissed off I’d be if I got stuck with a head full of either shampoo or conditioner that I couldn’t rinse out for a while.

I live in a fucking luxury park yet they turn our water off and do absolutely nothing to regulate noise. As I said in one of my previous entries, you just need to be old enough, pay your rent on time, and keep your mutts under 25 pounds. They don’t give a shit what else you do.

I’m loving my new sneakers, but one of my purple glitter shoes likes to pinch my big toe and I have to stretch it out when I’m not wearing them by jamming a pair of balled-up socks in it or something like that. With the way I can fit into kids’ shoes and with the way they’re so colorful and shiny, I will never wear adult shoes again! LOL

Alison said that eating yogurt before bed can give her nightmares and it’s funny she should say that because I had a yogurt before I had that nightmare I had a couple of nights ago.

Later…

Speaking of that, Irene predicts Nane will contact me at the end of the month, but you know what? I don’t give a shit if she does or doesn’t. If she does, though, she better lose the hypocrisy.

When I was reading back on some of my old entries from a few years ago, some of it made me giggle at the silliness of it, but there were some parts like when I was stalked, followed and harassed relentlessly for years by a certain individual and her mother and that really pissed the shit out of me. Reading back on that I could feel some of that old anger surge through me due to what they put me through. Part of it is directed at myself as well because I feel I could have done a better job of making it harder for them to contact and pester me. The real frustration was them going through my friends to get to me. I was totally helpless there unlike with my own accounts. I still could’ve made my own accounts less accessible. I guess an even bigger part of me felt that by doing that I was allowing myself to be controlled by these nutjobs. Also, if I closed doors to them I would also be closing doors to other people that I might actually want to hear from.

Earlier I was thinking about how wonderful my life is these days. But sometimes even the best of lives could use some excitement to spice it up. I need something new and exciting and interesting to add fun variety to my life, but I don’t know what that should be. At the same time, I’m afraid to wish for any real action to come my way because it seems that whenever something happens to shake my world it’s usually not in a good way.

I will never ever forget the morning of January 6, 2000, as I slowly sauntered through the house thinking, well, it’s great that we’re all moved it, but now what? I’m bored silly and I need some excitement.

And then there was a knock on the door and I wasn’t the least bit bored for years to come. Fifteen years later and unexpected knocks on the door still makes me a bit nervous, not that people come knocking much in a retirement community.

Not that I’m exactly “bored,” but the things that seem to happen to cure any sense of boredom or familiar and comfortable yet sometimes old routine, are usually rather disastrous events. I don’t want to be left traumatized; I want to be left feeling like I felt during that magical week we spent in Hawaii.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 8, 2015 Not having kids was one of the best things I ever did. I got into a discussion the other day about what we feel is the best thing we ever did, and well, obviously meeting and marrying Tom was one of the best things I ever did, and so was quitting smoking. Besides that, not having kids was one of the smartest moves I ever made. Being stuck in so many places as I have been has made a real freedom junkie out of me over the years. I think it would for most people. Because I am too selfish to give up my freedom, I realize that if I had gone and had the child that I once considered having, my life probably would have been hell. It’s been hard enough fending for ourselves over the years, so to have added a third person to clothe and feed would have only made life all the harder.

Then you have the fact that they are incredibly loud, incredibly expensive, incredibly smelly (yes, I’ve changed diapers before), incredibly time-consuming and incredibly animalistic. I honestly don’t understand how most people do it. Okay, I can see where there would be some good in it, but for the most part, it just seems like an awful lot of hard work and money for so little in return.

When I got married in 1994, this was getting to be when it was becoming more common for marrieds not to have kids as the pressure on women grew to focus more on work. This isn’t why I opted in the end not to have kids, though. I didn’t care if it was more “hip” not to be a Mom. And I didn’t care if it was more “in” to be independent. The fact is that I had been forced to be a puppet on a string for so long that once my life finally belonged to me, I just didn’t want to give it up. Doing what you’re told if you can get paid for it and still have a life is one thing. But literally paying to give it up is another. I felt the intense need to live my life for me after all the drama I’d been through in the past.

Even though it means that Tom and I will grow old alone with no one to help us, I have never regretted this decision. It is unbelievably annoying to go to a store and have to listen to somebody else’s brat scream in my ear while I am trying to shop, so I couldn’t imagine having that in my house 24 hours a day. Even if you are willing to teach your kids manners, respect and discipline unlike many parents these days, kids are still kids and they are still highly uncivilized and noisy. There is only so much you can do to stop a crying baby, just like there is only so much you can do to stop a barking dog. It’s simply what babies and dogs do.

Where we would have come up with the money to afford it, of course, is another thing because I have been very poor for most of my life. We certainly would have had to give up so, so much in life and miss out on many fun and educational experiences. We’re not poor right now, but as I have learned, the past has a way of returning to haunt us. While it may be true that the closer we get to his retirement, the less likely it seems that poverty will bite us in the ass again, what can happen once can happen twice. And what can happen many times can happen many times more.

The biggest factor in my decision, more so than cost and noise, was definitely the freedom aspect of it. To be able to study languages, write books - even keep a journal for as long and as detailed as I have - would have simply been out of the question with all the time and attention the child would have demanded. When you think about it, we can’t even come and go as we please with just the two of us even when we can afford to because his job dictates when we can come and go. So I can just imagine how much more restricted we would have been if there were three of us.

My freedom means everything to me, right or wrong. Some person with power over me, if not circumstances beyond my control, stifled my freedom greatly as a child and into my young adulthood. Go through what I have gone through and you will see that your life is not something you’re just willing to just throw away so easily. The longer you have to spend fighting for your freedom, the harder it is to simply discard it. Eventually, that kid would have grown up and moved out on its own, of course, but the 18 or more years it would have been with us would probably have seemed like an eternity.

So… it was definitely one of the best things I ever did in life… to not have children. I not only help the population crisis, but I can’t count how many moms I’ve met who at the same time would tell me how much they loved their kids, would have a look of longing and regret in their eyes when they would mentally reminisce about their pre-kid days.

My advice to the younger folks of today is don’t do something just because you can. Think it through first! While it’s always a wonderful thing when we can focus on the positive aspects of things, it’s also important to focus on the negative as well so we can see the full picture. Some things have a lot more negative than we may realize if we only focus on the positive, causing us to dive into something all eager and happy until reality slaps us in the face… hard.

Later…

I should have added the worry factor to my last entry about why I’m glad I never had kids. One less person I have to worry about. It’s hard enough at times worrying about Tom when he’s out there in the big bad world. So to worry that some abused and twisted kid might go and shoot up the school the kid was at would have been a bit unnerving despite the odds.

Now I can bitch about my diet. Well, it’s not the diet that’s a problem. Nutrisystem works if you have a working metabolism that can burn calories properly. But mine is still too slow and I could kick myself for not knowing better. I’m definitely not going to lose more than the few pounds I’ve lost, though I have stuck to the diet religiously for over a week now and will do so for the next month. I don’t know why I thought things would be different this time around. After all, I stopped dieting years ago for a reason and that was because my body would not respond to diet and exercise. Then again it does respond to exercise. Exercising keeps me in good shape, builds muscle and gives me energy, endurance and stamina. No problems or complaints in that department, it’s just the layer of fat on top of it all that can’t be shed.

I don’t know why I felt the need to do NS since I’ve been on low-calorie diets before. I think that the fact that I never paid anybody to plan out my diet for me was an exciting idea and I wanted a new experience. I like the food and I definitely won’t be gaining any weight on this diet, but it’s not worth the money in my case. I can eat in a similar fashion on my own, taking in sugar, cholesterol and fried foods in moderation, so I will definitely be canceling my next shipment.

Meanwhile, some things we just can’t get the body to do. All we can do is try our best and then move on. For me, trying to get extra weight off would be like trying to grow taller. It’s not going to happen any more than I’m going to float or fly. The lost weight would have reduced health risks, but I was never unhealthy to begin with. Hashimoto’s doesn’t necessarily make you unhealthy as long as you treat it. So… I will continue on in the upper 140s where I have been since 2008-2009 or something like that. I could look a lot worse for my age and I know it.

Later…

I had several interesting dreams last night. In one of them, I was going to call Nane at work and surprise her. LOL, I would never do that even if she lived in my country.

My Italian foster mother was in one of the dreams too, but I don’t remember what we said to each other.

In another dream, I was in a large house and my parents and sister were present, along with a young (Asian?) couple that was arguing about something. They were notorious for arguing constantly and I was about to tell them to shut up when I noticed a bunch of papers piled on the kitchen counter. I said that the kitchen counter wasn’t meant for piles of paper, especially since it would make cleaning harder.

Then this really good-looking redhead came into the room and said that the idea was for me to clean around the papers. I was about to put up a protest but then the redhead told me that I won something. I’m not sure if it was money or dolls, but there was a large box of about five or six good-sized dolls that people were trying to win in a raffle. I don’t know who those people were besides myself.

I wandered into the living room, which was huge. The ceiling had to be 20’ tall. I looked upwards at the front end of the room and saw a fancy old curtain hanging down from the ceiling where a huge window ran along that area. In front of it was a huge dome-shaped skylight with a white sheet covering it. I realized this was due to the heat and sun and thought of how ideal the skylight and huge windows would have been up in Oregon

Next thing I know I’m outside on a chaise lounge sun tanning in a bikini. The gorgeous redhead sat down on the chaise next to me and asked if I wanted some more oil applied to my body. I said I would and I shifted from my back to my stomach where she slowly rubbed some on my back and even slower into my ass. I enjoyed the feeling and she seemed to enjoy that I was enjoying it. You know how I am, if something is good looking I don’t care if it’s got a dick or a pussy between its legs. I admire and appreciate the beauty of both women and men even though personality is most important.

The only dream that was a little disturbing was that I was locked in a room in a house with a woman and possibly a couple of toddlers because she was terrified that somebody was trying to kill them. She had to disable the alarm system in order to go out and check the mail and I wondered what was so important about the mail that she would take such a chance if she were in that much danger.

So I stepped out into the living room with her, and sure enough, as soon as she opened the door, a bunch of men barged into the room. I froze and wondered if I should just assume it was hopeless and allow myself to be killed, or if I should try to escape. Then survival instinct kicked in and I decided to try to make a run for it. The strange thing is that everybody suddenly disappeared and I was left alone with one little boy calling himself Arden. I knew that taking Arden with me would be way too risky as he would slow us down tremendously and we would both be killed for sure. I decided to make a run for it on my own and hopefully return with help to save him and anyone else who may need saving.

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 7, 2015 And the Fast Five is done! It was not easy at times! I lost more inches than weight. NS said 5 pounds/1 inch, but I lost 4 pounds/2 inches. Don’t know that I can lose much more due to my thyroid issues, but that’s okay! I can always cancel at the end of the month if I decide to do so and aren’t locked into anything. Until then it’s on to the regular Core Plan where you should lose 1-2 pounds a week. I have 4 more weeks of food here. Clinically speaking, I’m only 21 pounds overweight so it’s not like it would pose a serious threat to my health if it didn’t come off… or if only some of it came off. Sometimes we just have to accept the body’s limits and move on. Meanwhile, my jeans are looser, my tummy’s flatter, and so I can’t complain.

I’m sure I’ll have other things to complain about today instead, like how noisy it will be here starting any minute now. Chainsaws, circular saws, mowers, blowers… you name it, I’ll be hearing it.

Had a dream I was to meet Aly, though I don’t know where. Then I got to at least have fun cheating in my dreams when Tom left some French fries sitting on the kitchen counter. When he wasn’t looking I gobbled them up, LOL.

TUESDAY, JANUARY 6, 2015 Thought I’d get in an entry before it gets noisy here. Yesterday was pretty awful. Turns out I blamed the wrong person for the sawing, though. It wasn’t Bob, it was the other asshole at the opposite corner. Even though they’re about 5 houses away, the sawing could be heard loud and clear in here because it’s a straight shot from their place to ours. There are no houses in between to block the sound.

There was also somebody sawing on the corner opposite them, but luckily for me, there are houses that block that one so it can’t be heard in the house. In fact that one can’t even be heard if I step outside. I would have to go down the street and around the corner.

I still don’t understand why these people can’t at least have the decency to shut their fucking garage doors. One of them, though, does not have a garage door. I could see some pretty sophisticated equipment setup specifically for woodworking projects at that place, too.

That’s 4 people into this shit on this little block alone. I just don’t get why the park allows for such loud racket. They designate places for the residents for gardening, for exercising… so why not this shit? I wonder if the park is even aware that this shit exists. Certainly they can’t be aware of the mutt left outdoors on the other side of the block. That thing is rarely, if ever, allowed indoors. My guess is that as long as you are of age, your mutts don’t exceed 25 pounds, and you pay your space rent, the park doesn’t give a shit what you do. Technically I could stand out in the street screaming all day, and as long as it’s daytime, it’s considered “normal” daytime noise.

We talked about soundproofing, but since soundproof windows are very expensive, we were thinking about these special wallboards that you add to your inner exterior walls. It would be sort of like adding an additional wall, only you leave a bit of space in between. This acts as a sound absorber. The only bitch to this is that we not only shouldn’t have to soundproof in a retirement community, but we would have to repaint these particular walls. We’re not even finished with the rest of the painting we planned to do. We did so much so fast that we felt we needed a little break. Plus, Tom was working so much overtime. We still have a lot more to do than just the walls.

Just saw a couple of squirrels chasing each other in the street. How cute!

It’s still quiet now, but it’s only just after 10 o’clock. For now, I try to remind myself how much noise I’d hear if we were in the mainstream. Yes, the saws are annoying. Yes, the landscaping is annoying. But here we don’t have to deal with welfare bums, college kids, the Brady Bunch, and loud music. I do sometimes hear car stereos off in the distance at night, but that’s more of a summer thing when they have the windows open.

I’m down a total of 3.6 pounds, which is better than nothing, but there’s no way I’m going to lose 1.4 pounds by tomorrow morning and be down the total 5 pounds they say you’ll be down at the end of the Fast Five. My metabolism is simply way too slow, though I’ve lost more inches than pounds. Again I am wondering if it really is worth it. Clinically speaking I’m only 22 pounds overweight, so maybe I should just keep on doing what I was doing before where I would eat sensibly during the week and a little more on weekends. Doing this pretty much keeps my weight in the same area as long as I work out, but I also understand that I’m a little more than a week away from my period so I’m going to start getting backed up in water and all that. I have until the end of the month to decide whether or not I want to keep going with Nutrisystem or not.

Tom guesses that I’m going to be down to 140 pounds at the end of the month, but I say there’s no way. I think I might make 145, though.

Last night I had a dream that somebody on Ask asked me what I feed the rats. I said that I have eggs every other morning for breakfast and then pancakes on days that I don’t have eggs, and that I share that with them. In reality, I have cut unhealthy foods such as these out of my menu. I only have them when I go to restaurants.

Later…

Well, Alison has proven that she can still be a liar at times. I was looking at the newest users listed at the bottom of the front page on Prosebox when I came across one I thought sounded like something Kim would create. Sure enough, I found that I had been blocked by that account. I then logged out so I could view it from the outside looking in so long as the account was set to public to see if it was really her or not, and it was. It let me block the account in return, though I don’t know how. I didn’t think we could block accounts that have blocked us first, but that’s not the point.

The point is that I still can’t fully trust Alison because she wouldn’t admit she was the one that blocked me after telling me she created that account to post shit along with Kim. Well, first she said they both run the account. Then she said that she made and runs that account. Well, if that’s true then she’s the one that blocked me.

I told Aly that I “found” the account, making it seem like I could see into it just fine and asked if there were any other accounts of Kim’s I didn’t know about cuz I wanted to block them. She said just that one and the one she made last week (which I blocked), but when I logged out of Aly’s public book another Kim account appeared that had blocked me. So either Aly’s lying about there being just two accounts or Kim changed the u/n. My guess is she did change the u/n.

In asking that she give me future links to block, I explained that I realized it may be a bit hypocritical of me to ask her not to give her any links of mine while I ask for hers, but come on, she knows who stalked who. Yet she just won’t see Kim for what she truly is. All she says is that I may have my reasons for not liking Kim, but she would rather not talk about it and doesn’t want to get in the middle of things. Either way, I’m sure Kim will block me the instant she creates the dozens of accounts she’ll no doubt create there, but any chance I get to deny the stalker the chance to act like the victim suits me well.

MONDAY, JANUARY 5, 2015 Still losing weight, but it’s going agonizingly slow, and again I’m wondering if I can lose as much as is average in any particular time frame because of my slow metabolism, but we’ll see. This is day 6 of the Fast Five. I should be 140 pounds by the end of the month, but I have a feeling I won’t be under 145.

The diet isn’t leaving me as tired during the daytime as it was the first day or two, but I’m definitely sleeping longer. Slept 10 hours last night.

Yesterday turned out to be a fun and productive day. I tried that carrot recipe where you bake them at a really high temperature coated in sugar-free maple syrup, and it was okay. Nothing great, since carrots are still carrots, and I’m not really big on the things.

Alexa is on the way! That’s that Amazon Echo thing. Can’t wait to play around with that. We were one of the few selected to buy her at the low price of $100, probably because we do so much on Amazon. Tom said if he could only use one site it’d be Amazon. You can shop there, play games, download books, listen to music, watch TV and movies, store stuff and so much more. The only thing it lacks is a blog. I’d choose them as well if it were the only site I could go to. I work for them too, and sell books through them.

We’ve been contemplating signing up for Netflix, but we’re not sure yet. We went to the Goodwill yesterday and they had a pretty lousy selection of knickknacks. Tom found some cables he could use and I ended up getting some incense even though I swore I never would again because of the mess it makes. I got 4 packs of 20… peach, strawberry, vanilla and opium.

After that, we went to Payless and I got some really awesome things. Even with the $5 gift card we had it still didn’t cost much. I could have gone and gotten expensive running shoes that would last for years like the Ryka’s that I won nearly 8 years ago, but I would rather get something I like that doesn’t last as long.

Kids’ shoes are simply more colorful and shinier, and I really wanted Velcro closures. I can fit into women’s size 5.5 or girls’ size 3.5. I ended up with a pair of shiny black sneakers with neon colors. Then I got some purple glitter shoes that were practically free, and a nice new pair of white slippers with silvery threads through them that fit me a lot better than the cheap Joe Boxer slippers I got a while ago.

Lastly, I got a pair of hot pink liners that you put on before you slip into certain shoes to make the soles of the shoes feel more comfortable to your feet. The liners aren’t visible in the way that anklets and socks are.

Had a dream that Tom was standing at the side of a large pool when a polar bear walked by and dove into the water.

Then Alison posted a blog about somebody she knew or knew of that had been raped by her gym teacher. In it, she pleaded for anybody who had also been victimized to come forward. I accidentally found a blog in which a niece of mine on Tom’s side of the family had mentioned me, but I don’t remember what she said.

In the last dream, we had company, and as I heard the doorbell ring, I cleared the kitchen table so we could all sit at it. I picked up a weight loss award that Tom had received and thought it strange that they would give him such a thing when he hadn’t yet reached his goal weight (I guess he was doing NS, too). I was just entering the living room when Tom opened the door to 3 or 4 guys who asked if I was home. I greeted them and proceeded to invite them into the kitchen, explaining that there was more room there, but they seemed to want to remain in the living room. As usual, the house looked nothing like the one we live in.

It’s going to be a sunny week here with highs in the 60s. I can just imagine how much racket I’m in for, too. I’m sure Bob will be reaching for that damn saw any day now. He was trimming trees in front of his place last Friday, but nothing noisy. I heard movement here and there when I was on that side of the house, but that was it. Nothing loud that could be heard throughout the place.

Later…

I am so fucking pissed off because Bob is back at the sawing. I had a bad feeling about that too, that he would start that shit anytime now. Some people, no matter how old they are, really don’t give a shit about those around them. I don’t care how deaf he may be; he’s still gotta have common sense. Any idiot with half a brain has got to know the thing is tremendously loud to someone living this close to them.

Tom says we’ll start soundproofing soon but what does he think we are, rich? We can’t afford to soundproof the 7 windows that are on that side of the house, 3 of which are odd sizes. Even if we could, shouldn’t the one generating most of the noise be the one to pay for at least some of it? Talking to the office does absolutely no good at all because they’ll just tell you it’s just “regular” daytime noise. Yeah, being loud, rude and obnoxious is “normal,” folks.

I am just so fucking sick of getting problem neighbors every single fucking place I go. If you can’t live in peace in a retirement community, where can you live in peace? It is like it is so not meant to be for me. Semi-quiet weekends and quiet nights are not enough. I want quiet weekdays, too! Like 3 or 4 of them a week and not just 1 or 2.

If we’re really here when they die, I would literally pay the realtor that shows the place to beg any prospective buyers not to ever own a power saw, or to at least promise to always use the damn thing on the other side of the house.

Even if the windows were suddenly soundproofed, I wonder just how much sound would come through the walls and up through the floor. Houses made of brick or stone and that are on concrete slabs deflect sound better than raised houses with wooden walls.

I was reading back on some of the last talks I had with my mother before she died, remembering how out of it she was getting and how signs of senility were shining through over the phone and across the country. It’s easy for me to say that I would beat the shit out of her for the years of pain and suffering she inflicted upon me both physically and especially emotionally. But sometimes I wonder if that would actually be easier said than done if she magically appeared, for example. Why? Well, because I’m just not her. It’s as simple as that. There are only a few people that I could literally have fun slowly torturing the shit out of, and that’s the people that fucked me over in Arizona. Not even the evil housemother of Valleyhead warrants such brutality. I’d never forgive her but maybe with a genuine apology, but there’s no need to torment Donna A.

You can tell by all the stars that I spoke this entry into Google, can’t you?

SUNDAY, JANUARY 4, 2015 This is my weight loss progress so far as you’ll see below. In order to lose the whole 5 pounds during the Fast Five, I’d have to wake up at 146.4 on the 7th, and no way. Just no fucking way with my shot thyroid/metabolism. My body’s already fighting to hang onto its weight… just like always. It initially lets a few pounds go, then stops no matter what I do. This is why I haven’t dieted in years. I should’ve known better, too. What did I think, that my Hashimoto’s had gone away or something? Unless I’m sicker than a dog or totally starving, my body’s not going to give up its extra weight. The money’s been spent, though, the food is here, and so I’m still going to stick to it. Nobody can say I didn’t at least give it an honest shot for the first time in half a decade or so, though Tom thinks the weight will go.

01.04.2015 (03:50): 148.4 lbs 01.03.2015 (02:30): 148.6 lbs 01.02.2015 (00:30): 149.6 lbs 01.01.2015 (06:00): 151.0 lbs 12.31.2014 (00:00): 151.4 lbs

Had to resume my Nasalcrom because my nose has been getting a little stuffier and sneezier lately.

When asked why I don’t just refer to people as “she” or “he” or “they” in my journal – well, I write in Word and copy from there. I started paper journaling in 1987 and digital journaling in 1995 and have always used real names, though almost always just first names. It’d be a real pain in the ass to switch all the names to she, he and they. Also, my philosophy is that if you’re afraid of being named – even just on a first-name basis – then you probably have something to hide in which you feel ashamed. Guilt is usually what makes people hide their identity.

I can understand the whole privacy thing and how some may not want their bosses to look them up and find out personal info they may be too embarrassed to know they know, but still… if someone’s afraid of first names, then they’ve almost certainly done something they fear could be used against them. Well, I can’t and won’t be responsible for covering the asses of the guilty. If you’re a friend of mine, of course I can use a little more discretion. But if you’re someone who’s screwed either myself or someone else in the past, then you should’ve thought of the consequences of possible exposure before you screwed up.

In last night’s dream, we were living in an apartment that was part of a long, single-story square-shaped structure. It mostly contained apartments, but there were a few stores. Inside the square was a huge parking lot. You had to go through these large metal gates to get in and out.

It was a dark, rainy morning and Tom had just left to go somewhere. Not sure why, but I left the apartment and went to sit in our other car. I had one of the rats with me. I then got out of the car by myself and went to the gate. I was a bit alarmed to find it sitting slightly ajar, knowing Tom would have shut it all the way. I hoped someone had just come in to go to the little convenience store that opened early and wasn’t after me or anyone else in any kind of way. Sure enough, I saw someone moving about in the store and felt relieved.

SATURDAY, JANUARY 3, 2015 Turns out my San Antonio visitor was really an NS member who bookmarked my blog, not Molly. Oops. I unblocked her IP# after she asked if the blog had been hacked, saying that she’d see it for a few seconds and then get redirected, LOL.

I’m now down 2.8 pounds after 3 days of Fast Fiving! Still gotta see myself get under 145 pounds to believe it’ll keep working with this dead thyroid of mine. Well, I’m now at 148, even if I may look 20 pounds lighter with the muscle I have.

The hunger has been a real killer. Yesterday started off bad, but then I was okay later on. I also had a headache Tom says is from the hunger, and he (and others) think the anxiety I had was also due to the stress of the super low calories. No wonder they don’t recommend doing this for more than a week! It’s incredibly hard on the body and a reminder of just how cruel it is for those who insist on breeding in third-world countries to keep doing so. No, the pull-out method may not be 100% foolproof, but it sure would lower their starving, suffering population really fast if they exercised some common sense. As they say… a little common sense really can go a long way!

As for my own starving ass… it’s going for a bike ride later this morning despite the freezing cold. Damn, do I wish I lived in a tropical climate!

Had a bunch of weird dreams last night. In one dream several different parks in this area were having a talent competition, and then in another Tom told me the house was all paid for.

I was then working on a laptop while Tom sat nearby reading a magazine or something. People went by our window talking really loud and I commented on it being distracting.

In the last dream, I had 6 kids and 1 miscarriage, LOL. I bounced a toddler on my lap and said to Tom, “Who would have ever thought I’d have so many kids so late in life? I wouldn’t have had that one miscarriage if it hadn’t gotten bumped out.” I guess I bumped my stomach on something. Then I said, “Had someone told me I’d have all these kids I’d have laughed. Would you have believed it?”

He shook his head and I asked, “How old are my kids now anyway?”

Tom shrugged and said, “I don’t know. I guess they range from 2-4 months to 6 years.”

FRIDAY, JANUARY 2, 2015 I am now down a total of 1.8 pounds. I still have to see myself lose 5 pounds after the first week in order to believe it. I’m not going to really get excited unless I get under 145, because anybody can lose a few pounds.

Yesterday we went to the grocery store so I could stock up on vegetables… carrots, cauliflower, butter lettuce, radishes, alfalfa, green beans, yellow squash and light Ranch dressing. I have these in between meals and especially when the hunger gets really bad, but veggies will only fill you up so much. It’s kind of strange how yesterday was easier than today. Yesterday wasn’t that bad, but today I woke up really hungry and I’ve been that way ever since.

After we returned from the store we walked down to the clubhouse and back. Actually, I ran most of the way and waited for Tom to catch up as he walked, haha.

The bad news is that I was sitting at my computer when an anxiety attack hit for about 60 seconds. Thank goodness Tom was home but it was still a bit scary. My first thought was that I was going to get sick and like I might be having a bad reaction to the vegetables. It started with that funny feeling in my head and then my heart started racing like crazy. Tom thinks I just got overheated and did too much with too little in my stomach, but I don’t know. I hope he’s right and I really hope this doesn’t become a regular thing again. I’ve never had this shit happen to me before last summer. There are actually two types of anxiety I’ve experienced. Yesterday’s quick attack, and then an underlying raciness/jitteriness, which can become more than just physical when negative emotions accompany it. That’s when it was at its worst and I hope to hell it doesn’t get to that point again.

Tom had to remind me that an anxiety attack doesn’t mean that you’re anxious about what’s going on with your life. I don’t care what causes it; I just don’t want to deal with it again. I was just about ready to venture out on my own here and there with the workouts, but now I’m afraid to once again. Trust me, you don’t want to have an anxiety attack when your heart’s already elevated from working out. It’s a good thing that Tom’s gotten into working out as well because I will always work out with him. Even if he’s not working out while I’m working out indoors, I want him to at least be here while I’m doing it. I just don’t feel comfortable knowing these things can creep up on me anytime, anywhere.

Once upon a time, I had the threat of asthma attacks hanging over my head, and now I have this. “You learned to manage the asthma attacks and you can learn to manage this, too,” Tom told me. Yes, but I would really rather not have to.

I received my toe rings yesterday and it’s too bad they’re a little big for me because they’re really nice. Oh well, I can at least wear them as pinky rings.

Yesterday we cleaned the oven with Easy-Off and it really stunk like hell. Sure looks better, though, even if we don’t use it much.

Last night I dreamed that we were living in a house that was attached to somebody else. There wasn’t just a dividing wall, but also a large window. I could look through it and see a TV straight ahead. Three people sat just under the window watching the TV.

There was another dream where I was squealing with childlike delight at some whale show as the trained whales jumped out of the water.

Later…

Whoa! Had a racing heart earlier after I was done listening to loud music through the headphones. I know loud music can elevate our pulse, but still, this isn’t exactly a good start to the New Year. It took a while for me to get it to slow down and even when it wasn’t beating very fast it was still kind of hard. I also had that feeling where I was short of breath and I now have a slight headache as well. I feel better lying down but I didn’t want to lie in bed all day either. Too much to do around here.

Really, really hope this doesn’t become a regular thing again and that it’s not tied into the medication. I absolutely do not want to go through this again. It is a sad, frustrating and even scary way to live. I briefly entertained the idea of my first chill pill in over a month, but now I feel okay. I will just try to take it easy for the rest of the day and not do anything too physical. Come to think of it there isn’t really that much to do anyway at this point. I already worked out, the house is clean, and the laundry is almost done, so there really isn’t any reason to do much else for a while, but get up and get an Ibuprofen for my headache.

I already did my Dutch lesson for the day, so maybe I’ll go do some editing and then some reading. If it stays quiet I might even catch a movie on Amazon.

THURSDAY, JANUARY 1, 2015 Written in Citrus Heights, CA Age: 49

So glad 2014 is gone! Even though only a third of it was scary for me with the medication nightmare, 4 has always been my least favorite number. It’s just very unlucky. The rest of the year sure was great, though.

Been here a year and a half and we’re still finding things that don’t work here, like the oven’s self-cleaning function. Really, what’s the point of paying hundreds of dollars for a home inspection if they’re not going to tell us everything that’s broken? I’m sure the lazy people who lived here before us knew it, too. Someday we’ll replace this 31-year-old oven (at least I think it’s that old), even though we rarely use ovens/stoves anyway. We’re modern, microwave kind of people.

A little disappointed to be down just half a pound after day 1 on NS, but I guess that’s better than nothing. I still worry my metabolism isn’t fast enough for this (or any) diet. My body simply cannot burn calories like a normal person. So right now being down at least 5 pounds in just 7 days seems highly unlikely. We’ll see, though. I’m still gonna stick it out!

Yesterday I was OMFG kind of hungry. I was so famished that going outside and munching on grass in between meals would’ve seemed like heaven. The first day is always the hardest and was it ever! But the food was delicious. My next order ships on the 29th, so that gives me time to make any edits I may want to make to my menu. Going to the grocery store later on for some fresh produce.

I’m learning the science behind the diet, like how important it is not to stuff yourself with big meals and all that cuz of how food is like cigarettes – the more you have, the more you want. This is so true, too. On days I’d eat a lot I’d often wake up super hungry the next day. If you enlarge your stomach, you will need to put more into it to keep it full and satisfied.

I’m also learning ways to dress those healthier foods up without adding tons of calories. Anyone who knows me knows I hate carrots. But they have a recipe where you coat peeled, raw carrots in sugar-free syrup and bake them at 500° that may be the only way I can stand the things. Forget celery, though. No matter how you dress that shit up I’ll still hate it!

Not gonna log my water and food on NS’s site, but just my weight and measurements instead. I know what I’m eating and I know that I drink 64 or more ounces a day of water whether I’m dieting or not.

[indie-bard-maiden]

~The High School~

(the demi-god/god story, apart of my short story collection 'The Ballad of Hollowfaye' also available to read on wattpad)

Two Half-Mortals must kneel before the Council of the Godly Power and declare their godly parentage lest they pay the ultimate price. They better not guess wrong... There will be dire consequences. Even more than embarrassment.

Genre: Whimsical God/Goddess Fantasy

Word Count: (to be determined)

Bellamy realized there was something very and incredibly wrong with him when he was just eight-years-old, much younger than the average, at the exact moment his mother realized the same thing. He remembered nothing about his life before the nunnery, nothing about her, nothing except the purest expression of fear in her striking blue eyes. He didn't even remember her face.

His eyes were blistering from the heat, layers of skin peeling like an onion, his throat liquidated and melted on the inside where the green flame just protruded from. He didn't know if the scream that followed came from himself or the woman he didn't remember. The memory goes black before and after that. Just her striking blue eyes, terrified, staring at him as if he was evil incarnate and the blazing fire being unleashed from inside him.

The memory picks up when he's already in the nunnery. He doesn't know how he got there or where the unknown woman, his frightened mother, ran off to. He didn't know whether she was dead or just deathly afraid of him, he hoped for the first... At least there was peace in death.

Apparently when Valentine arrived, sobbing and shaking due to being ripped from the arms of his dead father, the father that had been dead for three days by that point, Bellamy had already been at the Nunnery for a month. A month he didn't recall at all.

"You were worse off than Valentine," Sister Dymphina, the woman that treated and raised him as if he were her own, had explained when he told her of his troubling beginnings a few years ago.

The nuns made it their first priority to help he and Valentine discover their godly parent; all of them repeating like records, "Once you know who you are, you realize what you are capable of."

When they weren't at school trying to blend in—which was easy considering this is Hollowfaye where only the strange blend in—, they were pouring over the book, 'Gods of All Kinds'. A large book it was. It poured and delved and commented unbiasedly on the Gods of all creatures, species, and kinds in Iyael—the world from whence his father came.

Hundreds and hundreds of pages he memorized like the back of his hand... It was an absolute requirement. He had to guess someday, to proclaim before them all who he knew to be of his blood, and if he happened to be mistaken, if he became a victim of his own arrogance, well, let's just say it would be the last mistake he'd ever make.

Valentine discovered his godly parent first, when they were both thirteen. School had let out, and they were bored of the nunnery. They wanted adventure. They were tired of the overbearing hands of the nuns. And so they thought it smart to make their own secret fun, deep in The Wildwood.

The wind was blowing, hard. The Goddess of Destiny was quite familiar with them, had taken a sort of liking to them. Of course, they didn't know that. I only know it because she's my wife.

They'd taken to walking along one of the many streams in Hollowfaye. This one is specifically called, 'Adagray' by the nymphs that care for it. It's unnamed to the mortals. They consider it too small to need one. It might not be long, but it's deep. Deeper than you'd assume just by looking at it, with treacherous currents hidden beneath it. It's quite self-explanatory, really. Adagray means 'cold and lonely water death' in their language.

Which, coincidentally, brings me to the next part of this story.

Bellamy wanted to go for a swim. Valentine couldn't be bothered. He wanted to stay dry, walk along the water bank. He didn't try to stop him. He didn't realize there was any reason to. Adagray was unassuming enough. He stripped himself down to his underwear and jumped in.

He did not come back up again.

Valentine panicked. Screamed for help. Couldn't see anyone near them, couldn't see anyone who could help. He looked for a stick to pull him up with. Could only find seashells and rocks and boulders and bushes.

Now, see, if he had MY blood coursing through his veins, there's plenty he could've made with these few items. A human-sized strainer. A dam. Just to name less than a few.

His heart was broken. He hadn't cried this hard since he lost his father. He even dropped to his knees and cupped his face with his hands, pour soul. And, well, the power of his sadness, of his regret, of his wishing he'd stopped him from jumping in. That was enough.

The wind ruffled his deep auburn hair. And then,

"What's wrong with you?"

Bellamy. Bellamy standing in front of him, his hand resting comfortably on his shoulder. Confused. He jumped to his feet and pulled him into a hug, sobbing gratefully into his arms. Bellamy was lost beyond comprehension. Bellamy understood not the change that took place. Bellamy didn't even realize just moments before, when their souls were walking along another path, he'd perished. Gone from this world within seconds.

"You. You were gone. In the water. You were gone, and I couldn't save you."

Bellamy pushed him back, told him to shrug off his tears. That he was okay and standing right in front of him.

"It's just water, Valentine. It's barely a puddle."

Valentine grabbed his hand, angry, a strength he hadn't felt before aiding him and his arms, "No! You're not going in! You're the only family I have left, and I'm not letting you go this time!"

They walked home silently. My Goddess of Destiny and I followed quietly behind.

"Well, he's not the ONLY family he has." My darling felt slighted. She didn't blame Valentine though. She didn't have the heart to. She directed her hurt towards Bellamy.

Valentine knew her words though. He could feel them as if she'd whispered them directly into his ear. He asked to see The Council of Godly Power as soon as they arrived back at East Church. He kneeled before them, humbly, gratefully.

"And what is it you want with us, weakling?" Solstice boomed from his onyx and citrine-plated chair.

He was a fire-spirit, alright, always sounding angry when he's bored, which is exactly what he was. He hated these meetings, hated being present when half-mortals declared their parentage. They were never his. He didn't care about anyone enough to copulate with them. Mortals nor gods, alike.

"I would like to declare whom my parent is, my mother,"

Isra scratched his chin and stomped his scythe on the ground to intimidate. Emphasizing the punishment that will be had if he guesses wrong. Vala sat forward in her chair though still looking elegant as always, "Go on..."

"The Goddess of Destiny, sir."

Vala smiled, "And you know this for sure?"

He nodded in his kneel, "Yes, m'lordess. Without her, my friend would be dead right now. She allowed me to save him. I felt her love in the air, on my neck." He touched his neck absently, where he remembered the warmth of her touch.

Isra, my father, looked me dead in the eyes. He could see me even when I was invisible, hidden to all around me, "Is this true, Maeby?"

"I can vouch for him. My wife is a merciful queen amongst the merciless."

And, so, he was spared. Blessed with the rest of the gifts my love's blood could provide. He thanked them, he thanked her, though he could not see her. She was behind him though. Pressing the softest of kisses on his head.

"I didn't care for his father," She admitted to me once, "But when I saw what our child would be if I followed the path of pursuing him... I knew I had to love him just for one night. Our son... Why, he might be my favorite."

And he was. She graced him with flowers within the wake of every step he took, showered him with holy light every morning. I learned to see what she saw in him. A good heart, that Valentine, an even greater soul with a destiny of constellations ahead of him.

Bellamy, as far as he knew, was fatherless.

And so, on this very Halloween, the deadline for which he could declare himself, he was to kneel before them with a fear he'd never felt. There would be resolution in his heart. He would die, and Valentine would not be there to save him.

He could only imagine the wrath of his birth father. Who would bless him with fire in his lungs? He cried into Mother Dymphina's arms.

"It's no secret, Dear, children like you don't thrive in this world. Unless you like places like Hollowfaye, which I imagine you don't. I see your want to get away."

"I don't belong anywhere, Mother. I am a demon. I am a monster. My power destroys."

She scolded him as she held him tighter. "You were given gifts that your father thought would be useful. He has a path he'd like you to follow, otherwise, he would've blessed you with something else. Don't doubt his plan for you."

"Why? Why did you even take me in? Even my mother didn't want me. Even she could see I'm no good. She made me with my father, and even SHE, the one who bred with the monster that my father no doubt is, couldn't see a single reason to love me."

She stroked his back maternally, "Here, child, is home to all of gods' children, shan't that be extended to include all gods? Even those of different lands?"

"Not children like me."

"Hush now. Speak to them. Maybe they will listen."

Destiny. What a curious creature. While everyone else from Hollowfaye High was off celebrating, Bellamy was stuck in the belly of the church, kneeling before the Gods, begging them to take back their gifts.

"They are not gifts, half-mortal," Isra scolded, "they were inherited through blood."

"I've never hurt anyone, my lord." The mortal boy kneeled deeper into himself, his long black hair pooling around his face and his eyes, hiding the one feature that revealed himself. "At least not on purpose."

Isra, Vala, and Solstice looked at one another; Isra scratching his chin, Solstice's fingers halting upon the braid he was twisting into his hair, Vala looking too good to be in either of their company.

Then they laughed. Howling laughter, while Vala rolled her eyes at them.

"Ahhhhh, the mortal has a dud brain. Must be one of yours, brother."

I revealed myself then. I hadn't a choice. You see, I might be an absent parent, but I hate to see my children mistreated when I created them for more.

"I hate to break the rules--"

Solstice groaned, "Oh good, it's about time you've stopped your snooping."

Bellamy stared at me, unsure of what to think. That happened a lot with deities like me. Neither male nor female, always blurry around the edges, forming both the God of Endings and the Goddess of Invention: Maeby the Deity of a Couple Things Worth Noting.

"I fear I've been leading him astray when I meant to show him just what he was capable of," I was speaking directly to him, my son, "You see. He thinks I made him a monster. When I made him, what I'd had more in mind was... A weapon. A weapon like all my others, only this one with the  warmth of his mortal mother."

He stood from his kneel. An emotion I didn't catch clear in his eyes.

"But I'm-- I don't belong here. I don't belong in this world."

I shook my head, "No. Certainly not."

"The God of Endings... You're Maeby the Demon God of Endings..."

I try not to show my arrogance, of course, but the title does give me a sense of worth. Not necessarily in the tone he speaks it in.

"As in death?"

I scoff, "Well, not exclusively. Must all endings be bad? Now, before you answer that, I must be going. Lots of endings among your peers tonight. Lots of lost souls to help. We'll be talking later."

"Wait!"

Solstice groaned. "Must I continue to bear witness? Why need I endure this punishment?"

He stopped his scowling with one glare from his sister. Then she took me in a caring stare. "We'll leave you two be, nibling." Then to my son, "I hope you find the will to love what you're destined to be. You deserve at least that much."

They left us be.

Bellamy dared to step closer. I was impressed by his ability to overcome his fear. It was almost stifling before, when he could barely look at me or himself.

"You... I..."

"Yes," I urged him on. The clock was ticking, of course. And death didn't exactly wait for me.

"Why now? Where have you been? So many years you could've shown up and given me answers."

I shrugged, "It's against regulations."

I tried to explain that it was a simple answer to us reigning deities. There were rules to upkeep, other worlds to rule. I couldn't be here to hold his hand, I could only guide him in spirit, and now that he'd claimed me, maybe, just maybe he could feel my spirit when before he was numb to it.

I turned to leave. I'd already missed guiding a few spirits to the Doors of Death. They would be lost forever in The Halls of the Unliving. Purgatory as some know it. Too far out of reach for my help.

"My mother... Please... Tell me what happened to her..."

It was difficult to answer.

"Gone, m'boy. To another realm. You're welcome to try to find her. However, I must say that time moves a little differently where she resides now. She might not be the fearful young woman you remember."

He grabbed my arm just as I was dissipating into a powder blue orb.

"Where? You have to tell me where! You owe me at least that much."

I just stared at him. He was a little dim in the head, a little light in the marbles. "Ask Mother. She ought to know. I'm sorry. I really must be going."

I didn't have to read the expression on his face. I could feel the hatred pulsing through him. Before I could completely disappear from the radius of his revenge, he opened his jaw and bellowed out a harsh green flame. I was gone. He didn't get to see the damage he inflicted. He would've been glad to see the burns he scarred into my skin, the blurry edges that were scorched black with molten blood and ethereal flesh.

Ah, my son.

Why, he might just be my favorite.

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[residents-of-the-darkforest]

Dark Forest Residences: Shadewillow & Heronclaw

Shadewillow

Aliases / Nicknames: Darling, Dear, Wench, Useless She-cat, Horrible Mate, Betrayer, Farah

Gender: she-cat

Sexuality: homosexual

Family: unnamed mother, unnamed father, Mossdapple (son), several unnamed kits, three unnamed grandkits, Heronclaw (mate, formerly)

Other Relations: unnamed mentor

Clan: Riverclan (formerly kittypet)

Rank: warrior

Characteristics: kills her abusive mate to protect herself and her son and allow them to live freely

Number of Victims: 1

Number of Murders: 1

Murder Method: poisoning

Known Victims: Heronclaw

Victim Profile: her abusive mate

Cause of Death: greencough

Cautionary Tale: ??

Story:

It had begun moons, even years ago. Shadewillow, or Farah, at the time, was told by her mother what to expect when she was adopted into another Twoleg household, how there may already be another cat that she would need to keep friendly with if she were to have a happy life.

So she was friendly when she met Jack. And he was friendly too, to begin with. He would show her around, teach her their Twoleg’s habits and when to beg for food. 

Slowly, he began to change. He would first ask her to do things for him, politely at first, then gradually more demanding. Then he became physically violent. Farah had been shocked, but also angry. But when she tried to fight back, he pointed out to her that if their owner saw that they wouldn’t get along, he would get rid of one of them, and it certainly wasn’t going to be the cat he has been loving and cherishing for so many moons more.

He wasn’t always demanding. He was even loving sometimes, nuzzling up to Farah and grooming her fur. Though she always felt anxiety whenever he was near, loving or striking, she assumed that that was how living with another housecat was always like.

She wanted to deny him when he suggested that they become mates. After all, he was more than three-times her age. But not seeing much of a choice, she complied, and had  kits soon afterward.

She loved them with a power that both scared her and energized her, not feeling anything so strongly since she had lived with her mother, and even that love couldn’t compare. She had almost forgotten what it felt like.

Jack had failed to tell her that she wouldn’t get to keep them. When her kits were being taken away, she had shouted, and in response, he had only shrugged, claiming that it was obvious what would happen. Besides, they were going to good dens.

Farah had nearly snapped that she had thought the same thing when she first came here. It was that thought that struck her. That thought, and her desire to keep Moss, her only kit left, safe, was what finally made her decide to leave.

She was terrified, of course she was. She planned it for days, wanting it to be right, wanting to give Jack zero chance to strike her or worse, strike Moss, ever again. 

So they escaped while he napped, dozing off after eating most of ‘their’ food. She hopped over the fence, Moss’s scruff in mouth, and ran into a patrol of warriors. They were surprised to see her, not only because she had trespassed quite unexpectedly, but because they had never noticed her in her garden or recognized her scent. Of course they didn’t, she hadn’t been allowed outside in...was it moons or years at this point?

Thankfully, they weren’t hostile, and they offered to allow her and her kit into their Clan, which she gratefully accepted. She was given the name Shadewillow, and her son Mosskit. They lived happily, in a loving community for five moons, few days before Mosskit would become an apprentice.

It was a regular day. She was laying in the open, after so long of hiding in the nursery, afraid Jack would somehow come by. She was at peace now, only to see him stroll into camp with a patrol. 

He had feigned delight when he saw her, telling her how worried he was and how much he had missed them both. But Shadewillow could see in his burning eyes how furious he was, and how much he was going to make her pay. Sure enough, that night he attacked, clawing her worse than he ever had before, calling her a betrayer.

Shadewillow took it in spite of the training she had received. If he took out all of his rage on her, he would leave their son--no, her son--alone.

Jack didn’t allow her to speak to anyone about the situation. If they knew what a problem the family was, they would be kicked out, and poor Mosskit would lose all of his friends and his hopes to become ‘a great warrior.’

That was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

There was no way to escape Jack--Heronclaw now. There was only one thing she could do. She took four minnows and stuffed two of them with berries. She knew he would be suspicious if she gave them to him, so she waited for him to take them. Sure enough, he did, and collapsed shortly after.

As for Shadewillow, she was never caught. She lived a long, happy life, and got to watch her son live one too. She became a grandmother to three beautiful kits. When she caught greencough, she was sad, but bittersweetly. She knew she had done the right thing to ensure herself and her son a good life.

She had no regrets.

Heronclaw

Aliases / Nicknames: Slimeball, Dear, Jack

Gender: tom

Sexuality: heterosexual

Family: unnamed mother, unnamed father, Mossdapple (son), several unnamed kits, three unnamed grandkits, Shadewillow (mate, formerly)

Other Relations: unnamed brief mentor

Clan: Riverclan (formerly kittypet)

Rank: warrior (being trained)

Characteristics: abusive towards his mate and son

Number of Victims: 2

Number of Murders: 0

Method of Harm: physical abuse, verbal abuse, emotional abuse

Known Victims: Shadewillow, Mossdapple

Victim Profile: his mate, his son

Cause of Death: poisoned, killed by Shadewillow

Cautionary Tale: ??

Story:

See Shadewillow

Additional Information:

--Inspired by the song Exit Music (For a Film) by Radiohead, which pretty much details the entire thing. I thought that the ‘I hope you choke’ part could be her murdering him. Perhaps she used a poison that could make him feel as though he were choking.