#there was an article linked in the comments though ill admit

[dagasinfilo]

oh i never liked ifls much but dude. this is low 

[jodilin65]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Our lives will never get better and I know it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Later…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Later…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Later…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Later…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Later…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I haven’t even heard from Maliheh lately.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thanks, God. Just thanks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At Seventeen

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

Later…

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

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

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

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

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

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

[thankskenpenders]

Enerjak Reborn: Epilogue

It’s time to answer the question on everybody’s mind. How did Ken respond to Ian killing off Locke, one of his pet characters?

Well, the answer, as you should expect, is: poorly

Now, it’s important to remind everyone that Ken has not actually read the arc. He never read any of Ian’s run, to my knowledge. But his fans were sure to tell him all about it and ask him how he felt

Eventually, in 2010, two years after this issue dropped, we got a response from Ken talking about how he felt about Ian’s run. (Again, even though he wasn’t actually reading it himself.) Said response is worth reading in full if you’re interested in all this drama and Ken’s mindset. You literally get to see the guy brag about how he actively ignored what Bollers was doing when the two were sharing writing duties, as if this is a good thing that makes him a better writer. He also criticizes Ian for using the previous writers’ characters instead of introducing even more characters to the bloated Archie cast in his first few years on the series. But the relevant part to the discussion of Enerjak reborn is here:

“I especially don’t consider anything either does with any of the echidna characters – especially Locke – to be canon as neither created the characters nor established them in stories as the viable fan favorites they’ve become. No matter what Ian writes, he can never alter the fact that in MY universe, the events of Locke’s passing as depicted in SONIC #143 is canon. Anything he writes can easily be counter-written by a better story with an alternative solution.”

Let’s just brush past the very funny part where he calls Locke a “viable fan favorite”

So yeah. Penders was VERY unhappy with the way Ian wrote Locke, and the way Locke’s death in Enerjak Reborn meant that the timeline depicted in Mobius: 25 Years Later wasn’t the one true future of the series. He’s also gone on record saying that he thinks Ian didn’t get the relationship between Locke and Knuckles. When asked about Ian’s work, this has always been one of the major things that’s bothered him

On a broader level, his ramblings here are reflective of how he views comic franchises in general. A particularly illustrative quote from him is provided in the comments section below the article I linked:

“The only work I consider significant to any character is the work done by the original creators. Anything done afterwards by anyone else pretty much doesn’t count. For example, I consider the original issues of FANTASTIC FOUR by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby to be the only stories that matter in the entire run. Anything being done today is by writers and artists who are simply building off the work Stan and Jack originated. I apply this standard to just about every character I ever enjoyed over the years.”

This odd mindset explains a lot about Ken. It explains why he hates that Ian kept using his characters, and why he actively avoided building off of the work of his contemporary writers at Archie. I can see what he means on some level, of course. When another writer comes in and adds more novels to a series after the original author dies, I generally tend to ignore those. And I skipped a good chunk of Twin Peaks season 2 because it had less involvement from creators David Lynch and Mark Frost, making a lot of it feel like filler. But we’re talking about a licensed comic, one that had been a collaboration between multiple writers based on the work done for the games and cartoons from the very beginning. Ken was never the sole writer--he wasn’t even there for the first year--and he was writing stories centered around characters he hadn’t created like Sonic, Sally, and Knuckles. He doesn’t take credit for creating any of those characters, but the hypocrisy still seems to be lost on him

But of course, we’re not just talking about Ian’s handling of all of Archie Sonic here. We’re talking about Locke. And as Ken has said himself, Locke was based partially on his own father. And that’s really the kicker here

As I’ve said many times before, I try to avoid psychoanalyzing Penders and digging into his personal life. I don’t know the guy, and that’s his own business. But it’s hard not to when he literally says shit like THIS to fans

Locke is emotionally abusive towards his wife and son. Locke is also based on Ken’s dad. Ken refuses to see Locke as abusive, even though that’s exactly what he wrote, because that would mean acknowledging that his own father was abusive. So there’s always an excuse for why father knows best. It was a different era! They’re not humans! He could see the future! He might have hurt Knuckles, but it toughened him up, and he was always there for him in the end! The dad is never, ever at fault. The moms, on the other hands, are mere bystanders to the child rearing done by the dads. It’s just sad, really

I get why Ken would be bitter that Ian took this fictionalized version of his late dad, went “hey, this guy’s an asshole,” and then killed him off. I get why that would upset somebody. He wrote a very personal story there. But it’s not like Ian was pouring salt in a fresh wound--Ken lost his father all the way back in 1982. I know this because Ken literally dedicated the M25YL story about his version of Locke’s death to his dad. It had been nearly 30 years when he wrote this response to Ian’s work. That’s plenty of time to see a goddamn therapist instead of projecting all of your baggage onto Knuckles the Echidna and writing stories for kids about how you should never question your dad ever

The irony, though, is that Ian’s different take on Locke is arguably way more nuanced than Ken’s ever was. In his final moments, Ian’s Locke turns into this tragic figure who only realizes too late that the way of life the Brotherhood had raised him to believe was a mistake, that he had failed his son by passing those beliefs on to him. But he’s still held responsible for what he did. He’s a horrible dad, and the characters around him call him out for his failures, but you pity him for only now realizing what he had done

Ken, on the other hand, gestures at Locke doing horrible things, then tells you to forget about all that and stop questioning him. Knuckles pretends he has a totally normal Leave it to Beaver-ass father-son relationship as soon as they reunite in the Knuckles series. As an adult he thinks back on how great a job Locke did raising him, even though Locke literally took him from his mother, raised him to believe that his mother and the rest of his species were all dead, and then pretended he himself was dead for six years of his son’s childhood (among MANY other things)

M25YL gestures at those very same themes of not repeating your parents’ mistakes that Ian touched on in Locke’s final moments. Knuckles is raising Lara-Su very differently from how Locke raised him, and Locke admits that he wishes he had raised Knuckles differently on his deathbed. But his decision to suddenly admit wrongdoing in this flashback to his death feels unearned and arbitrary. Locke is never at fault. We cannot question Locke. Knuckles turned out fine, so don’t worry about it. Locke might regret the way Knuckles raised him, but Knuckles is not allowed to hold any ill will towards his father or question his methods whatsoever. We’re allowed to gesture at the idea that Knuckles doesn’t want to repeat the mistakes of the previous generations, but those vague mistakes aren’t allowed to be anyone’s fault. That’s just “how things were”

Ken would do a lot more than just complain about Ian’s handling of Locke on the internet, though. Because you see, the way Ian wrote Locke is commonly cited as one of the main reasons why Ken started copyrighting his work, right up there with Bioware basing the story of Sonic Chronicles partially off of the Knuckles comics without his blessing. And those copyrights, of course, were what started the legal battle that would kill off the original Archieverse

[batbirdies]

Asymmetric Replies

AO3 link

It was late, and the gala was only about half over but Tim was maybe a little exhausted and not wanting to admit that he might not be 100% over his most recent illness. He was perfectly fine, but the residual phlegm, throat clearing, and coughing that was mild during the day tended to get more prominent at night. So he’d slipped out of the ballroom earlier than he might normally allow himself and retreated to his room, where he took off his tux and put on a hoodie and sweats and decided to just veg for the rest of the night.

The den was quiet and watching mind numbing television sounded like the best way to waste some time in the place of schmoozing the rich and famous. 

He must have drifted off, leaned back against the armrest with his eyes drooping. The next thing he was aware of was faint shuffling sounds coming from behind the couch. He figured it was Alfred, taking a short break from the event himself and checking in when he didn’t see Tim in the ballroom anymore. However, when he took a deep breath and shuffled himself to an upright position what he found was not Alfred, but Damian.

Tim blinked at the image before him, because the kid was still in his mini tux, red bow-tie in place, and he was methodically arranging a chess board that hovered near the back wall between two bookshelves. Tim stared for a bit, the voices from the tv behind him sounding more like low buzzing than words. 

It had been louder before, someone - he supposed Damian - must have turned it down.

“What are you-” Of course his voice came out in phlegm and gravel and he had to pause, clearing his throat before he finished. “What are you doing in here?”

“I have grown tired of the Gotham elite. Father excused me for an early ‘bedtime’.” While Damian didn’t look up, he still put air quotes around ‘bedtime’ and glared at the chess board with all of his derisive might. 

“Care for a game of chess, Timothy?” At this, he did finally look up.

He stiffened though when he saw Tim’s no-doubt dumbfounded look.

He quickly schooled his expression, grimacing internally at the awkward silence that followed before Tim watched whatever openness had been on Damian’s face quickly shutter away. “Sure,” he tried after a too-long pause, a twinge of guilt in his stomach at the forced blankness on Damian’s face as he turned back to the board.

“You do not have to,” he spat back, shoulders high and tense, “I am only bored and do not wish to indulge in your trash tv, as you so call it.” 

“No, it - uh, it’s a good idea. I’m bored too.” It took a moment to untangle himself from the blanket he’d wrapped up in on the couch. He left it draped over the armrest, shuffling over to the chess table. Sliding into the seat opposite Damian always felt a little bit like sitting on the other side of a police interview, with how intensely he stared, but it no longer held the underlying edge Tim used to expect. 

He’d called him Timothy, even. Which was...not entirely new, but something Tim had been noticing more and more. It wasn’t his favorite but it was definitely better than Drake, and didn’t hold any of the old animosity he was once accustomed to either.   

That didn’t mean Tim still wasn’t a little bit cautious as he watched him finish arranging the pieces. Nor did Damian’s shoulders completely lower as he set the last one in place. 

“You have first move,” he gestured lightly to Tim’s pieces as he leaned back in his chair, surveying the board. 

Tim looked down, mildly surprised to see he indeed had the white set in front of him, meaning Damian purposefully gave him the first move. It was definitely odd, he thought, as he moved his first piece, not putting that much thought into it. 

Damian normally stayed at those events until the very last one of them was finally heading back up to the private areas of the manor (usually Bruce), refusing to “give in” or something, Tim didn’t know. But it was a pattern. And here he was, taking an ‘early bedtime’ to come in here and play chess with him. The very implication of a bedtime was normally grating to Damian, as it would be to Tim.

There weren’t a lot of reasons Tim could think of that would send him up early, unless something had upset him, enough that Bruce told him to leave. Or, it was something he didn’t want the others to know about. 

“So,” he started, watching as Damian confidently made his first counter move. “These things are the worst, right?” Tim could cringe at himself. Of all the ice breakers…

Damian, however, didn’t give him a disdainful look or make a snide comment, he only sniffed haughtily and nodded. “Indeed. Father’s peers are insufferable.”

Tim glanced down at the board, doing his best to actually concentrate, knowing Damian wouldn’t take it well if he thought he wasn’t trying. Three moves later they already had two pawns in deadlock and Tim was still trying to wrap his head around how to ask without getting his head bitten off. 

Maybe it was none of his business. And Tim wondered, a little, why he was suddenly concerned; but for how Damian’s shoulders were still high and tight and he knew how the people at these things could be. He probably saw the least of it of all of them, really. Most of the sycophants who tried to talk to them instead of either ignoring them or just existing in the peripheral already knew Tim from when he was small. He’d existed in these circles for years. And not to mention he was white, and “well bred” by most of their standards. Damian had no such advantages. 

But Tim wasn’t good at the older brother thing, really, if he even considered himself one. Dick seemed to think so, though, and Cass. Even Jason sometimes made offhand comments about ‘little brothers - right Tim?’ when he was in a good enough mood. 

So maybe.

Quietly, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and glanced at the screen. He opened his text window and scanned the conversations there. No new messages.

“Dick’s asking if I’ve seen you.” He glanced up, gauging Damian’s reaction, but he only looked up in mild surprise, eyebrows raised. “Should I tell him no? Or does it matter?” Tim knew that if Damian was upset, and he hadn’t gone to find Dick, he either didn’t want to see him for some reason, or he felt like he couldn’t interrupt whatever he was in the middle of in the ballroom. Maybe he was dancing, or charming some reporter into writing the right article. 

“You may tell him whatever you wish,” was the cryptic response, as Damian looked back down, eyebrows scrunched together in concentration. Tim frowned, locking his phone and slipping it back into his pocket. 

“He’s probably just surprised you headed up early. It’s a little out of the norm, I mean.” 

Damian’s hand paused where his fingers rested just on top of his knight. “Yes well,” he said quietly, “even I grow tired of acting.”  

Tim hesitated briefly, before sucking it up and asking directly, hoping this shift in dynamic might stick. “Did somebody say something rude? Because if they were being -” He didn’t want to outright ask if someone was being racist, but it had happened before. “Bruce puts on a show but he honestly doesn’t put up with that stuff. If you tell him who it was, he’ll make sure they don’t get invited to these things anymore.” 

Damian pulled his hand away after making his move and finally looked up, expression unchanged, though the tension in his shoulders seemed to lessen. “What, exactly, do you assume was said?”

“I...I don’t know.” Tim shrugged, feeling mildly wary, like this could be a trap he hadn’t seen coming. “Most of the people at these things just suck.” He had to clear his throat at the end, residual phlegm taking that moment to come up and mangle his last word, following up with a short round of wet coughs he tried to smother into his elbow. 

Damian was frowning at him when he looked back up. “I am fine,” he said, voice a little more forceful than necessary. “I’m not sure the same can be said for you, however.” 

There was a curl of distaste to his mouth as he watched Tim make his next move, sniffling loudly and glancing around for his water that he’d left on the coffee table. Tim almost snapped something defensive back but just then there was noise outside the room

They both looked up to find Jason swinging around the doorway, tie undone and hanging loose around his neck. “This where you made off to, Gremlin?” He asked, glancing between them as he stuffed his hands in his pockets and leaned against the doorframe. 

“I do not see why that is any of your business.” Damian grumbled, reaching across the board and taking Tim’s bishop. Tim stared at it for a moment, the move computing in his head before he swore under his breath and Damian smirked. 

Jason’s heavy footsteps padded across the carpet until they stopped just next to the board. 

“This is priceless, you didn’t even change your clothes.” 

Damian looked up with a glare, eyebrows drawn low, “And I see you must have chosen to change into a second tux then.” 

Jason snorted, hiking his pant legs up before he squatted down to stared at the board at eye level, scrutinizing their game. “Nah, B sent me to find Tim and make sure he wasn’t hacking up a lung in secret. I’ll take any excuse to leave these things early. Dames, he’s gonna take your knight.” 

“Jason,” Tim held no compunction about reaching over and shoving Jason in the shoulder, knocking him off balance enough that he fell sideways, landing on his hip and holding himself up with one hand.

“I do not need your help.” Damian added for good measure, though his expression when he looked back at the board was distinctly unhappy. 

Instead of getting back up, Jason shifted until he sat cross legged on the floor. “You two are a picture.” He slipped his phone out from somewhere, Tim noticed when he glanced away from the board, and held it up, “Damian in a tux, Timmers in his pajamas, I feel like it’s a real representation of who you are as people.” 

Tim looked down, mildly concerned at the phone pointed his direction. “Are you drunk?” 

“That would explain it,” Damian mumbled under his breath. Tim let out a huff of unexpected laughter, having to suppress another cough when Jason dropped his phone back in his lap. 

“Hey, it’s the only way to get through these things. I’m sending those to Dick, by the way.” 

Tim made eye contact with Damian over the board and they both rolled their eyes. 

“So in sending you to come find me, Bruce was actually just trying to get you out of there before you embarrassed yourself.” 

Damian snickered, stifling a grin as he curled over the board a little more closely. 

“Hey now, I am not drunk, just a little tipsy, I don’t overdo it at these things, ok?” Jason pointed a finger at both of them in turn and then smirked as he leaned back on his hands. “It may have been a fool’s errand though, since Damian was already on duty.” 

Tim was ready to roll his eyes again but Damian sent a glare toward Jason and hissed, “I was merely bored.” 

“Sure you were,” Jason grinned, “no way you were concerned about recovering-little Timmy, vanishing out from under our noses.” 

Tim blinked while Damian sputtered, face going slightly red, “I am not under the impression that Drake needs a babysitter,” he finally managed to snap, glancing at Tim just in time to make fleeting eye contact before his gaze darted away again. 

“Jay,” Tim said under his breath, a warning tone to it before the other man raised a hand in surrender, picking his phone up to look at and summarily dropping the subject. 

Damian looked tense again, jaw and eyes hard as he glared at the board, refusing to look up when Tim didn’t make his next move right away. 

He almost brushed it off, letting his gaze fall back to the match...but it did make sense. It would explain why Damian left the party early, why he didn’t seem to care if Dick knew, and why he might be willing to play the part of a tired little kid to get out of there for the night. And why he was suddenly so defensive when Jason implied it. 

Tim was utterly blank for a moment, processing that. He glanced up for a second as he reached toward the board and found Damian staring at him again, before his eyes flitted back to the game between them, the tips of his ears going bright red. 

Tim was about to push his rook forward, putting Damian in check, but he veered his hand toward the other side of the board at the last second, moving his second bishop to take a pawn instead. Jason was watching again, sitting up just straight enough to see over the top of the board and when Tim looked over, he winked.

Tim felt his own face heat as he rolled his eyes a second time, leaning over the game board and swiping a wrist under his nose briefly as he let Damian take his Queen, resting his chin in his hand. 

Damian won, which was no surprise. “Ah well,” he said as he stretched over the back of his chair. Jason had eventually retreated to change out of his tux and returned in sweats and a t-shirt. He was currently lounging across the couch on his phone. 

Dick appeared just as the match was ending, clearly having showered, hair wet and a damp ring around the neck of his shirt. “Good game,” Tim said as their oldest brother wandered into the room.

“Yes,” Damian agreed with a short nod, beginning to put the pieces away in their respective boxes. “It is unfortunate you are at a disadvantage while you recover. We will be on more even footing next time.” Tim cleared his throat, suppressing a smile as Damian stood up. “I will go change.” 

He spun around in time to almost run into Dick, who quickly veered out of his path, brushing a hand over his head as Damian ducked away and out of the room. Jason peered over the edge of the couch and Tim stifled another cough as Dick fell into the chair Damian had just vacated. 

“Having fun?” He asked, obviously suppressing a smirk. 

“Shut up,” Tim went to kick him under the table and he laughed, grin spreading over his face. Tim looked away the minute it turned to something softer, fiddling with the top of the one of the game piece boxes and thinking he could probably do this if things kept on the way they were...make the whole older brother thing work.

@lilan-norah

[moonlightreal]

Strange Fate linkdump: Questing, Empathy and Endgames

Huge long post!  Linkdump and many many thoughts that wandered through my mind while going through these links.

Last Lullaby stuff:

https://www.thebookseller.com/news/hachette-signs-new-l-j-smith

About the international licensing of The Last Lullaby in 2013.  Strange Fate is the big obvious lost book but it’s not the only one.

https://booknode.com/the_last_lullaby_0705503

French bookseller page about The Last Lullaby, with back cover blurb in English but no cover picture.  So whatever happened happened before an artist could be commissioned. The book seems to follow unscarred teen Brionwy rather than scarred child Crispy who we met in the Strange Fate chapter

https://spotlightreport.net/featured/burn-bright-presents-l-j-smith-interview

2013 interview about The Last Lullaby.  In this interview Crispy and Brionwy are two different characters, though I’d always had the impression that they were the same person and Brionwy was Crispy’s real name.  Maybe just because Brionwy is the name in the title and then it’s Crispy’s story, back in whatever first incarnation I read of it whatever incarnation that was.  And it’s poetic nfor the scarred child to have a beautiful name.  

So we have the short story Brionwy’s Lullaby about Brionwy in the harem and the Strange Fate chapter about Crispy in the ruins.  Two pieces.  Less than we have of Strange Fate, but there is a looooot of worldbuilding in Brionwy’s Lullaby.  Lots of worldbuilding but no hint of where the story goes next.  Do Brionwy and Crispy meet?  Is there some connection between them?  How does the story end?  In the Strange Fate incarnation of the story this future is traded for a happier timeline when characters in our time avert the apocalypse but as a separate story how would it conclude?

Honestly I’m sadder about this book than I am about Strange Fate; I loves me some YA dystopias and the whole dragons and vampires thing is just neat.  But this book’s as lost as lost can be.

Recent Stuff:

https://www.reddit.com/r/YAlit/comments/krlvr1/lj_smiths_night_world/

Reddit thread from two months ago.  The rabbit hole is real and nobody else seems to have found the bottom.

https://deadline.com/2020/05/greg-berlanti-productions-adapt-the-forbidden-game-novels-lj-smith-as-tv-series-the-vampire-diaries-author-1202944224/

Article about the upcoming Forbidden Game TV series.  Forbidden Game is a Simon & Schuster series, not Alloy, so while I’m sure Ms. Smith has no say in how the show will go she will at least get royalties!  However much royalties book authors get from TV shows, no idea how much that is.  

https://micky.com.au/the-vampire-diaries-writer-reveals-new-fantasy-horror-series-the-forbidden-game/

“LJ Smith has just revealed that its horror trilogy novels...”  Um.  Not quite.

I looked through half a dozen articles about the Forbidden Game TV series and none of them had anything from Ms. Smith.  I knew the chance that this would draw comment from her was only a tiny chance, but it seemed worth looking.  

Interviews and Stuff:

https://www.saltlakemagazine.com/qa-the-vampire-diaries-creator-l-j-smith-on-writing-and-losing-the-series/

2012 interview about Vampire Diaries

https://peoplepill.com/people/l-j-smith-1

Just a biography page.  

http://theliteraryconnoisseur.blogspot.com/2014/05/an-interview-with-new-york-times.html

2014 interview with a blogger.  Ms. Smith does seem to be an absolutely lovely person.

https://areiterowski.wordpress.com/2013/02/10/author-profile-l-j-smith/

2013 Blog post about Ms. Smith, ending with a quite long list of “things she’s currently working on.’ the medical stuff didn’t happen until 2015 though with six projects in progress it’s believeable that she didn’t finish any of them before being felled by illness in 2015.

http://luanatormesdemattos.blogspot.com/2013/11/interview-with-one-and-only-l-j-smith.html

2013 interview with a blogger.

Into the meta: Aubrey Clark and the ghostwritten books

https://www.goodreads.com/author/list/5760167.Aubrey_Clark

Books by Aubrey Clark.  Secret Circle and Vampire Diaries.  I assumed Aubrey Clark is a woman and the other book listed is by a man with the same name, but Aubrey is traditionally a male name and modernly a female name so who knows. Hardly the first time a dude wrote a series aimed at girls under a female name.

https://www.romance.io/authors/54558f9b87eac323ffb2cc31/aubrey-clark

Bio listing Ms. Clark as a she, and classifying her books as romances.  Says she’s been writing for eight years.  Just on the VD/SC stuff or did she write before?  Alloy hiring an existing writer to ghostwrite and that existing writer using a pen name so her new work wouldn’t be connected with her old work is perfectly possible.  I swear I read somewhere that Ms. Clark was Ms. Smith’s editor, or her “person” with Alloy, making her signing on as ghostwriter a bit of a betrayal… but I can’t find my source.

And how much of a betrayal is it really, if Ms. Smith got fired it’s not Ms. Clark’s fault if the series got offered to her, and who could say no to getting to write for a series you know?  It’s a job and a chance to be a published author and nobody should be judged for grabbing that candy if offered it.  

I wish we could hear what happened from Aubrey Clark’s side, just because the story of What Happened to Strange Fate is a mystery I to figure out… it’s easy for me to forget this mystery isn’t a Nancy Drew video game, it’s people’s real lives.  Ms. Clark is not the villain, she’s a writer in a situation we don’t fully understand but she’s just a writer like any writer.

http://debrasbookcafe.blogspot.com/2012/11/book-review-secret-circlethe-divide-by.html

Review of Secret Circle: The Divide

http://bookandbroadway.blogspot.com/2016/02/the-temptation-tsc-6-by-aubrey-clark.html

Review of Secret Circle: The Temptation.  The reviewer was not impressed.

http://yepireadbooks.blogspot.com/2013/04/book-32-temptation.html

Another review of The Temptation.  This reviewer was a bit more impressed than the last one.  I admit I ragequit the ghostwritten books after Ms. Clark started killing off characters, I don’t remember if I even hit book two…  

https://www.wikiwand.com/en/The_Vampire_Diaries_(novel_series)

Publishing history of Vampire Diaries

https://www.wsj.com/articles/SB10001424052702304058204579495491652398358

2014 “Vampire Diaries Writer Bites Back.” we’ve all read this one...

https://uniquelygeekygirl.com/2013/05/20/1223/

2013 “LJ Smith vs ghostwriter” from a blog called uniquely geeky girl.  The next article on the blog is more about Alloy and its practice of hiring ghostwriters.

The Rise and Fall of Kindle Worlds:

https://the-digital-reader.com/2018/05/15/amazon-to-shut-down-kindle-worlds/

https://fanlore.org/wiki/Kindle_Worlds

https://www.thebookloft.com/fanfiction-and-kindle-worlds

https://www.hiddengemsbooks.com/amazon-closes-kindle-worlds/

https://gigaom.com/2014/08/17/amazons-fan-fiction-portal-kindle-worlds-is-a-bust-for-fans-and-for-writers-too/

https://www.wired.com/2013/05/kindle-worlds-fanfic-copyright/

http://www.roxannestclaire.com/barefoot-bay-world-kindle/kindle-worlds-faq/

https://www.bustle.com/articles/36237-amazons-fan-fiction-site-kindle-worlds-is-flopping-but-why

It rose, and it fell.  As far as I can tell Alloy is the only publisher to put its works out on Kindle Worlds, I guess because that’s what they were already doing with their hired authors!  Other authors seem to have opened their worlds individually and I guess not many of them signed on.  

LJ Smith and Kindle Worlds

https://www.theawl.com/2014/02/the-writer-who-beat-the-system-how-one-woman-resurrected-her-sexy-vampire-brothers/

https://www.mhpbooks.com/fired-vampire-diaries-writer-takes-to-kindle-worlds-for-revenge/

http://floor-to-ceiling-books.blogspot.com/2011/02/l-j-smith-fired-from-writing-vampire.html

A blog post with some comments so you can read the state of the fandom at the time.

https://www.dailydot.com/parsec/fandom/vampire-diaries-lj-smith-kindle-fanfiction/

http://leegoldberg.com/tag/alloy-entertainment/

“Read the contract.’  This one is interesting because it’s the only one that isn’t in defense of Ms. Smith.  She should indeed read her contracts unless she wants to just be a fanfic writer, which… I don’t think I’ve ever heard of an author going from published to fanfic, but why not?  

Also, good question, where was Ms. Smith’s agent?  And where is Ms. Smith’s agent these days when someone should maybe be being the Strange Fate Police?  

Unrelated: I swear I read an article from Alloy’s perspective about what happened.  Maybe it was this one and I thought it was from Alloy when it wasn’t.  It is the only article not in support of Ms. Smith that I could find.

https://editingeverything.com/blog/2014/04/25/fanfiction-is-letting-lj-smith-tell-her-vampire-diaries-story/

https://www.tvovermind.com/vampire-diaries-lj-smith-fired-book-series/

https://thegameofnerds.com/2018/03/03/originals-10-facts-about-the-woman-behind-the-vamps/

https://dc.uwm.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1952&context=etd

https://www.cbr.com/the-secret-circle-why-the-vampire-diaries-author-l-j-smiths-other-cw-series-failed/

I watched one episode of the Secret Circle series because I loved the books so much, but the CW style is not my jam.  But it is interesting to read the pitch for a fewer-character second season.

https://anovelbookblog.com/2014/06/12/leeching-off-the-talent-writing-for-hire-the-dark-side-of-publishing/

About the Secret Circle sequel novels and Alloy

https://www.jeanienefrost.com/2019/02/ghosts-in-the-machine/

Ghostwriting and plagiarism and ethics.

https://www.fanpop.com/clubs/stefan-and-elena/articles/94267/title/lj-smith-fired-from-writing-own-novels

This is the full letter from Ms. Smith about getting fired.

https://teleread.com/thanks-to-kindle-worlds-fired-vampire-diaries-writer-continues-her-own-series-as-fanfic/index.html

http://iswimforoceans.blogspot.com/2011/02/help-lj-smith-vampire-diaries.html

2011 blog post

https://indecisiveturtle.wordpress.com/2014/05/29/assignment-4-ghostwriting-in-the-vampire-diaries-by-l-j-smith/

A long blog post that goes into detail about the writing of some of the books, how to tell Ms. Smith’s style from the ghostwriter’s, sentence length and similes and stuff, all very academic!  I’ve retyped a couple pieces of Ms. Smith’s writing and I noticed she handles punctuation-with-quotes differently than I do, making it very weird to retype.  This is an interesting one.  Someone dived way deep!

https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2009/10/19/the-gossip-mill

New Yorker article about Alloy

https://www.publishingcrawl.com/2012/05/29/the-not-so-secret-backdoor-to-publishing/

Article about Alloy and package writing

https://www.vogue.com/article/the-secret-circle-young-adult-witch-fiction

Just an article about the Secret Circle books and how they’re kinda bad but actually good.  Which they are.

That’ll keep y’all busy for a while!

Quest wishlist: I wish we could ask someone in the publishing industry about rights to series and rights to “publication canceled” books and how all that stuff works.  And I wish we could hear Aubrey Clark’s side of the story, but it just seems unkind to reach out to her to ask about this.

But the problem is… I call it “the quest for Strange Fate” because I’m melodramatic and like calling things quests, but what it the victory condition for this one?   The obvious: we win if we find and read Strange Fate, but I don’t think that will ever happen.  No matter how much we learn about what happened that won’t make Strange Fate appear.  

I do wish we could tell LJ Smith that plenty of authors these days have a Patreon.  If the people who still care about the lost books and the story of Ms. Smith could turn that caring into actual useful help for the people and maybe the books too that would be the best outcome.  That would be a successful quest.    

A darker timeline possibility: maybe S&S read Strange Fate and it wasn’t any good. Ms. Smith is a good writer.  But take a good writer and give her 20 years off from writing, and make those the 20 years where the teen experience of life changed radically, her genres of choice became big and popular and evolved and built up tropes, and language itself did… things…

I stan language but it’s a little sus how new lettery bois go brr everywhere I look.  I love it, but it’s humbling having to ask my niece what all the new words mean, and why so many of them seem to begin with S!

And Ms. Smith is sixty and has twenty years of rewriting Strange Fate, pulling it apart and tinkering until it probably doesn’t much resemble the book she started in 1998. Stir up all this in a pot and we’ve got a recipe for making a talented author drop a mediocre book.  Maybe S&S read it, said “it’s a dud, the fandom is 20 years old, let’s just not” and Ms. Smith retired from public life in defeat.  

This makes an unhappy sort of sense, but it doesn’t answer the question of why The Last Lullaby never appeared either.

Anyway. This has been a long post, lots of links and some thoughts on the philosophy of questing.

[bi-dazai]

2000 words on soukoku romance-coding in episode 26

i’ve talked a lot on here about how there’s a lot of romance-coding in the canon content featuring dazai and chuuya. here’s a rundown of my base theories here

i didnt add this in my original above post, but ill say now that diegetically chuuya and dazai are usually quite levelheaded and manipulative - both are the two youngest port mafia executives in history. even when dazai is annoyed with other characters (such as kunikida or atsushi) it is clear that he is play-acting. chuuya, meanwhile, is extremely level-headed and doesnt get upset at all - even when yosano and kenji appeared heavily armed. dazai is only slightly upset by shibusawa and dostoyevsky. the only person to genuinely get a rise out of both chuuya and dazai are each other. even so, their arguing has, from the beginning, been petty on the surface, yet upon reading into dialogue and animated/written/illustrated facial expressions show deep hurt at each others actions, particularly on their 4 year separation and dazai covering up his loyalty to chuuya by betraying his trust in episode 21.

i have two more points to add on concerning their non-diegetic relationship. firstly, that official merchandise and posters almost always depict chuuya and dazai either ogling each other (theres a trend of dazai ogling chuuya’s ass in particular) or doing something romantic together (for example there’s a poster where they are depicted hanging around together with no other characters near a christmas tree - christmas is considered a romantic holiday in japan. the same coding is given to many canon fictional couples in japan, and to another studio bones production pairing in bnha kiribaku, which has a similar level of gaycoding).

the second non-diegetic point you should understand about soukoku: it’s one of the most popular ships in japan, and japan’s anime industry tends to be a lot more open about showing same-sex relationships/gay-coding than the west is.

--- 

and for a note on my authorship - i admit that i do ship soukoku, and that this gives me a bias. i am also bisexual and am much more sensitive to noticing homoeroticism than many straight audiences. however, to counter this point id like to clarify that it takes a lot to make me believe a same-sex ship has even the slightest chance of being canon. also, id like to say that i am an author in my second year of a creative writing degree and my first year of a film studies minor. these degrees both involve analysing text within production and authorial context (a lot...). in my free time i read a lot of papers and articles on the production context and general views of lgbt representation in different countries’ media, in particular the usa, australia, and japan. i consume every piece of media i view with an intensely critical eye and i specialise in connected diegetic elements with non-diegetic elements in terms of production, authorial, and social context

---

*NOTE* im going to be doing things out of order here for no other reason than that i realised them in that order as i thought about the episode analytically

today i want to talk about something extremely specific that came up in episode 26, and it has to do with the use of symbolism and shot composition. it’s just a short, short sequence but to me it speaks volumes, both for their canon relationship and their coded romantic relationship.

specifically this sequence. this is just one shot and to me it portrays soukoku’s dynamic as explicitly romantic in a mise-en-scene sense.

before we like to go in, id like to clarify that the dialogue doesnt matter - it’s mainly expository stuff.

the first sc is the first shot we see of dazai and chuuya ‘alone’ in this scene. it’s unclear where mori is exactly. even though mori is clearly orchestrating the two of them and this entire scene’s dialogue, he isn’t in this shot until the very end. this defines the soukoku relationship, as well as their first meeting being entirely incidental, as being something that was supposedly orchestrated by mori but on a deeper level something they created and grow themselves. it is their relationship from the beginning, not mori’s. even though we know that mori is orchestrating this, we are told that this story will be about chuuya and dazai, not mori’s plans. along with that, it’s also the first shot of open sky we get in this scene, and it’s with just chuuya and dazai looking at each other, silent. it’s open and refreshing and new, but there’s something there already - which i will discuss now.

so. let’s talk about the vapour trail. the vapour trail has no real relationship to the scene or story at all. it would be perfectly logical to just place clouds here, or even place the vapour trail somewhere else. but this vapour trail is very specifically placed to form an arrow to comes from dazai’s heart and reaches towards chuuya, passing over mori’s head narrowly. mori watches the trail, dazai and chuuya watch each other. mori knows the middle part - that they will be tied together to be a device of violence of his own making. but at the other ends dazai and chuuya are tied together in a way that goes above and below mori’s knowledge. this symbolises their future together, and indicates a subtextual level to their dynamic.

the choice i want to focus on here, however, is the choice to have this arrow reach from dazai’s heart. as a writer, if i was trying to symbolise the general strategic soukoku dynamic i would have this arrow go from dazai’s head (the brains) to chuuya (the recipient and conductor of dazai’s plans). in fact, i have a dynamic im writing right now that is similar to this, in which one is defense and one is agility. however, these two also end up in a same-sex romantic relationship together later on. in order to code and foreshadow this, as well as add romantic subtext, often when using symbology i adjust my symbols to fit a romantic context subtly. as an author myself, this shot is a clear hint of adjusted symbolism in order to code dazai’s feelings for chuuya.

and if i’m to read further, i would even say that the fact that the arrow flies over chuuya’s head suggests that dazai currently has romantic feelings for chuuya that chuuya does not yet return (but comes to, something that i have discussed in my linked post above).

---

secondly, tumblr user @cream-and-punishment made a fun joke post about dazai and chuuya “exchanging wedding vows” at their first meeting. firstly, it’s funny as fuck and when i first saw the post my reaction was just “haha it does sound like that!”. however, i keep looking at that post, keep returning to the script and that scene, and my reaction is now “wow. it does sound like that. like. exactly what soukoku wedding vows sound like. huh.”

for the lazy here’s the script (translated by the funimation subtitle team):

Dazai: You’re a cocky, overconfident child. You’re the kind of person I hate the most.

Chuuya: And I hate condescending pricks like you more than anything in this world.

and because im thorough, i ignored my english subs and listened the original japanese script as well (with my limited japanese to basically check for anything that could be translated differently or means something in japanese that is culturally untranslatable). what i found was that the english subs are right, and capture the original lines quite well.

dialogue can function as a tool for multiple results. in this two-line exchange, neither of the lines are meant as views into the character’s true interiors. instead, the purpose of this interchange is meant to be foreshadowing, specifically into the fact that this is how chuuya and dazai spend the rest of their relationship (up until the current point in the canon manga plot) expressing their opinion towards each other. it mirrors the kind of dialogue we see in episode 10 in which dazai and chuuya’s dialogue works as exposition for their past and their base dynamic, and here it is used to foreshadow what is considered backstory in the main plot (if that makes any sense?).

however, chuuya’s response to dazai is where im interested. im gonna pull my writer’s card here and say that if i was, again, just foreshadowing hatred and frustration as well as cooperation, i would cut chuuya’s line to something like this:

Chuuya: And I hate condescending pricks like you the most/just as much/etc.

“more than anything in this world”, of course, could just be incidental. but considering how a lot of soukoku’s dialogue is clearly double-entendre (read my original post linked above), it makes me consider a second option: that we are already putting that romantic double-entendre into their dynamic. if we refer to the future soukoku dynamic, in particular in episode 21, we are shown multiple times that chuuya genuinely cares for dazai’s well-being (secondary to rimbaud’s hat of course hahaha). chuuya would be genuinely upset if dazai died, and its implied (though still up to interpretation as opposed to the explicitness of chuuya’s shown feelings, however i would argue that dead apple is fairly explicit in dazai’s trust and feelings) the vice versa is also true.

going off that, often how both of them express concern for each other is by making ‘hateful’ comments towards each other. in episode 9, it’s clear there is uncomfortable tension in the room. there is 4 years of unspoken confusion lingering and chuuya is clearly, clearly upset. so dazai, in referencing an unchanging nature of what makes them them, calls back to one of his first mocking entries - how short chuuya is. it’s funny and it’s mocking, but the blows they trade are familiar and even when theyre brawling, despite being on opposite sides they take genuine pleasure in each others company. considering both of their personalities and histories as well as their trauma, both of them tend to struggle with interpersonal relationships and opening up. but chuuya and dazai canonically feel comfortable with each other, and know how to read each other well enough to both bounce off each other while also understanding what lies beneath.

so when chuuya says something like “i hate you more than anything in this world” we are pulled back to the present (in the plot), where chuuya says these things but moments later is concerned or worried for dazai’s wellbeing. chuuya in this line prioritises dazai as the foremost person in his life within minutes of meeting each other. diegetically (to the characters) we know this is them exchanging tense negotiation. non-diegetically (to what we know of the script and their future, as well as this entire exchange being mostly foreshadowing), we are clearly meant to interpret this to mean that chuuya will, eventually, hold dazai to be incredibly important to him, and vice versa. 

of course, we also have the fact that the phrase “more than anything in this world” is yet another soukoku romantic double-entendre. as i mentioned with things such as “the silent treatment” and mentioning drinking heavily when someone abruptly leaves you, it’s clear that these are used almost entirely as romantic tropes. i’ve discussed this before so i wont get too much into it, but just say that this scene adds yet another line to that long list of soukoku double-entendres.

---

considering at least the first 3 episodes will be related to exploring the soukoku backstory, ill be trying to post an analytic of soukoku for each episode of the 15 adaptation. furthermore, these posts won’t be explicitly about the potential of canon romantic chuuya/dazai, but will analyse soukoku scenes in a focus that i see fit for each episode. whether this is examining it like this post again, or examining it for foreshadowing or cinematographic details etc, will be decided once i watch each episode.

anyway lol! yet another rambling analytical of something nobody cares about haha

[waterwindow]

@bloodshadow213  Okay! This is actually the second ask I’ve gotten about Al in the last couple days.

 So I guess hopefully I’ll be able to help the Anon as well with the information.

    Al’s story is complicated. And 90% of it took place in V1 which means it’s laced with campy jargon, continuity errors, stories being told out of order and.... “””comics logic”””

WARNING, THIS IS REALLY LONG.

  It doesn’t help that a lot of Wiki data and other online sources on him are completely false. Most of them confuse him with his Astral Twin Alvin and they can’t even get his actual height correct EVEN THOUGH THEY HAVE THE INFORMATION IN COMICS CLEAR AS DAY

if you’re going to WRITE THE ARTICLE could you please at least---   

 read the comics (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻

  ahem.

   Despite that he’s one of my favorite characters, and so I’ve spent a LOT of time (YEARS) thinking about him so I’ll be the first to admit my interpretation of events is completely biased. I’ll do my best to separate concrete information from my headcanons.

anywho here’s Albert, HE’S..... HANDSOME.....

   Okay so Albert- he’s got a few split personalities. Mr. Element and Doctor Alchemy. He’s also got the power to transmute elements. Yes- another misconception is that Albert’s gun or the philosopher’s stone is where he gets his powers. And where it was apparently retconned that Al needs the Philosopher’s Stone for most of his existence that wasn’t the case. 

(and personally I still don’t believe that’s the case, because we’ve only ever seen ALVIN actively loose his powers when the stone is taken from him. And that might make sense once I get into who and what Alvin is. But let’s focus on Albert for now)

  Anyhow, yes Albert is a metahuman.

He got his powers from meteoric radiation beamed into his brain as an infant. And his powers and split personalities are linked somehow or somewhat with celestial activity.

Anywho, the Element Gun at the very least is more like a magic wand that he can use to channel his power through. And it’s actually useless in the hands of someone else.

  (I have a few headcanons that the Philosopher’s Stone might also be a meteorite- if not a larger piece of the meteorite that originally mutated him as a baby. Or it could be a figment of his imagination (link to headcanon).)

One thing that does seem consistent is that Albert’s powers are more or less suppressed and he has to assume one of his undesirable personalities to “unlock” them. 

BUT EVEN THAT’S NOT ALWAYS TRUE. Here’s Al saving a firefighter as Mister Element.  

(This isn’t the first time Mr. Element has been heroic, So it’s my headcanon that the Mister Element personality isn’t necessarily ‘split’ with Albert’s. It’s just a more intense version of himself. Because out of Costume, Albert is quiet and mild-mannered.)

ENTER THIS ASSHOLE

So there’s a plot where Eobard needs Albert’s help to get his speed back. But Albert won’t help because his powers are ‘locked’ behind his ‘Evil’ personality. So Eobard makes Albert go and steal stuff (with the random ability to hypnotize people by vibrating that he magically obtains for this single story) And spends the entire adventure trying to impress Al and gaslight him into thinking he likes crime.

And poor Al is just

he’s so done. It’s horrible I ship it

 OKAY ANYWAYS

My ultimate point here before I got distracted fangirling is that despite Barry’s efforts to help, Eobard wins Al over and convinces him that he IS ultimately Evil.

The story ends with Albert momentarily betraying Eobard right as he was commanded to kill Barry. (using the power of self-hypnosis to counter-act Eobard’s influences.) Though convinced he is forever and permanently evil at that point, Barry knocks him out and uses the cosmic treadmill to take Albert to the future where he can be um

‘cured’

of his evil tendencies forever.

COUGHS this isn’t a lobotomy at all

So yeah! Al is ‘’’’cured’’’’

ENTER THIS STINKY BOY

Albert’s been a good. So Alvin shows up and starts running around as Doctor Alchemy COMMITTING CRIME. This is the first story we see him in so everyone thinks Albert is the one running around in costume, of course.

 (Barry, Iris, and Rita are all part of Al’s life but I haven’t gone into them in depth for brevity- because holy shit this is long....)

(yes you read that right, Rita keeps tranquilizers on hand for Albert- for... obvious reasons- earlier in this post you saw he wigged out and caught their car on fire while they were in it. SHE PUTS UP WITH A LOT....)

( Headcanon-talk though. It couldn’t have been easy for Al either knowing he could be called a liar or drugged by his spouse at the drop of a hat. Of course Rita has every right to fear for her life. And she’s done a lot for Al, at the risk of her own safety. But that being said... they do get an off-screen divorce, and I believe it was 100% mutual. 

   This has got to be an unpopular opinion, since the fandom loves Rita and of course I’m sad they wrote her out of the story as well. I love her too! But it couldn’t have been easy for Al either. Living with a mental illness and a distrusting spouse who keeps a weapon on hand to use against you. And it’s clear later on that Albert literally has such an awful time keeping his shit together that he needs much more help than just Rita can provide. RAH RAH BLAH BLAH-)

Anywho,

 they cart Albert off to jail, but Alvin kidnaps him. With every intent to frame him for all the crime he sees fit to do.

According to Alvin, he is Albert’s psychic/astral twin. Born at the same time and with an identical childhood to Albert’s.

Again according to Alvin, they sit on some sort of moral Teeter-totter. Where whenever Albert is good- Alvin feels an uncontrollable urge to be evil. and vice-versa.

Anyways he invented this potion called Desmodium where the fumes can cause people to be susceptible to hypnotic suggestion (Wow Alvin knows about hypnosis too, his entire life is so coincidentally similar to Albert’s) - which is how he was able to use Rita to lie about Albert’s alibi and frame Albert for Alvin’s crimes. He explains that because of their psychic connection, Alvin was able to locate where Albert hid the philosopher’s stone and used it to take up the mantle of Doctor Alchemy.  (in this scene Albert is also under the influence of Desmodium which is why he’s just sitting dead-eyed like a doll)

  So Alvin leaves to try and kill the Flash, and once he believes he has won, he reveals himself to Barry- and obviously he doesn’t succeed, so now Barry knows the truth of what’s going on and is on Albert’s side. Meanwhile, Albert escapes and feels the uncontrollable urge to don the Mr. Element costume to combat his evil twin. (Wigging out from the stress probably- which is why I headcanon that the Mr. Element personality is just a stronger-willed and decisive version of Albert.)

SO THEY FIGHT. It’s glorious. 

Albert saves a firefighter, Barry sees the whole thing. Also Rita and Al meet up off-panel where he explains everything to her and she in turn explains everything to Barry and that’s completely convinced him that Albert is completely innocent and is in fact trying to do the heroic thing.

  SO Albert, Rita and Barry work together and ultimately defeat Alvin. And from there on Alvin takes up the mantle of Doctor Alchemy permanently, becoming an honorary Rogue while Albert goes into retirement.

 (Alvin seems to be the only one who ever hung out with the Rogues at all and had a relationship with them. He seems to have got along well with Lisa - or at the very least she seems entertained by his antics. Whereas she has no patience for perverts, and yet she’s bemused by Alvin’s flirtations when he’s drunk. Also Alvin being in consortium with the Rogues is why I believe Hartley much later comments on how ‘Freaked out’ the Rogues are of Albert. 

Because whO IS THIS GUY? WHERE’D THE FUN REDHEADED AL GO.... Also all things considered, of course he laughed in their faces.)

I’M NOT DONE YET.

VOLUME 2

  So somewhere along the line, Alvin discovers that he isn’t in fact Albert’s astral twin. That he’s actually a completely artificial construct born by the philosopher’s stone (or Albert himself depending on your interpretation) Personality completely made up of Albert’s ‘Dark Side’.

 (WHEN or HOW Alvin came to this realization isn’t explained, but if I had to headcanon it might have been when he somehow survived his ‘death’ in his Blue Beetle cameo.

He attempts to merge with the Philosopher’s stone and it leads to his demise... AND THEN APPEARS AGAIN FOUR YEARS LATER IN THE FLASH. WE CAN READ INTO THIS- THEY DEFINITELY DIDN’T MAKE A MISTAKE.....)

Anyways, back to Flash v2. In volume 40 and 41 Alvin has completely lost his mind- likely due to his identity crises and tries to take over Albert’s life completely. Convincing Wally and Linda (and himself apparently) that he is ACTUALLY Albert Desmond, and not the evil twin.

But Wally figures out that it’s actually Alvin and defeats him.

   And finds Albert locked up in the closet (FOR WHO KNOWS HOW LONG....)

Hopefully not long, Wally postulates that Alvin had been listening to Albert’s phonecalls and wanted an opportunity to get the Flash once and for all. 

 Alvin is taken to jail, but escapes almost instantly, leading to a fight with Wally that doesn’t look like it will end well for him. BUT GUESS WHO SHOWS UP JUST IN THE NICK OF TIME

butt

Fake memories you say, Wally? Would certainly explain why Alvin’s life was so identical to Albert’s.

And that is the end of Alvin, killed/absorbed by his own brother.

....

hey- remember this?

It’s almost like Al’s story could be read as a metaphor for neurodiverse repression to the point of self-destruction. Instead of working with him, they literally lobotomized the ‘evil’ out of him and gave birth to a physical manifestation of how he felt himself perceived by the outside world.

i’ve been reading these comics for too damn long

Anyways! After that, Albert vanished into the wind. He became Doctor Alchemy permanently and denounced the Mr. Element name- calling it an ‘embarrassment’. He became solitary and committed crimes much darker than his previous. (notably, a cop-murdering spree in Gotham).

  Albert is literally unstoppable and the only reason he’s not wreaking havoc is  He’s now characterized by his unhealthy obsession with books and escapism and finding ‘Peace and Quiet’. 

Not only that, he seems to have developed a something of a grudge against Wally. (Either that or he’s too far gone to care about anything any more)

And that’s..... basically the end of the story. There’s some loose ends that got nuked out of existence right before Flashpoint. Something insinuating that Albert may have a larger role to play or knows more than he’s letting on- but it’s literally so vague it could be interpreted as anything. The plot is lost in the wind, unfortunately.

  But If you made it all the way to the end, thank you for listening to my dramatic summery of Al’s story

 Believe it or not, but I wasn’t even half as thorough as I could have been. So I definitely encourage you to read v1 and draw your own conclusions.

[xbananaleensyo]

Numb Calls and Dumb Walls

Ship: Ohmtoonz

Warnings: Depictions of mental illness/dissociation, mentions of trauma

Words: 2,754

Summary: There was a lot of things that Cartoonz didn’t understand. Dissociation? What is that? But damnit there was one thing he knew: he loved his boyfriend and he’ll help him cope any way he can.

A/N: So I’ll mention this again, if you’re sensitive to the topics above I suggest not giving this a read. I want you to be safe. This was, more or less, a coping fic of some sort that I wrote on a bad day. It's also not a universal depiction of what's happening. Kinda based it mostly on my own experiences and some accounts I read online but everyone is different. Also, also these are real grounding exercises if you wanna research those! They’re pretty niffty for like anxiety and stuff. But before this note gets too long: any likes/reblogs/comments are highly appreciated! And I hope ye enjoy! Have a nice day, yo

              Cartoonz was in love with Ohmwrecker. In turn, that means he cared deeply about him and vice versa. Ohm was a beautiful man in his eyes. He had so much compassion to give, so much information in his head, so many laughs and witty comebacks between his lips. He was proud to be his boyfriend. But, unsurprisingly, Ohm had faults, he had demons, he had nightmares. And Cartoonz knew that. Everyone experienced pain, afterall. He was willing to work with them, however. It was the only way to go forward in their relationship. Even if it was something he didn’t understand at first. Ohm seemed to notice that too. They needed to let each other in one day. That’s why they were here, sitting on Ohm’s bed, as he confesses that his brain was, as he calls it, ‘a little weird’. It was a new world to Cartoonz, talks of mental illness and trauma was only something he advocated for but not something he actually experienced. But now he was sitting there, Ohm in his lap holding down tears, as he explains the troubles of his mind and past life. Ohm doesn’t like to remember it, or his brain doesn’t like to remember it, so it doesn’t at times. It flights.

              Ohm calls it “checking out”. He said this is what he called it before he figured out what it really was. Ohm describes it as being there but not really being there. Like you’re slowly shutting down but never completely off. Time doesn’t exist. Nothing exists except the numbing wave he drowns in and the thoughts that sometimes float with him. He can fake ‘normal’ if he tries, he says, but it never looks or feels as genuine no matter how hard he pushes it. He can escape after awhile but some days his body just gives up. He found it relaxing but at the same time anxiety-inducing and frustrating when he can’t get out. “I have stuff to do, things to feel and I can’t get to them when I’m like that. I don’t like it when I’m like that.” Ohm admits, biting his bottom lip. Cartoonz brushes his lip out from under his teeth before he makes it bleed.

              When Cartoonz first saw it happening with his own eyes he was scared. He didn’t know what to do. His body was there but Ohm wasn’t. His face was a blank canvas without all the pretty expressions he knew Ohm made. His eyes held nothing, his tone was forced. It was scary that someone that didn’t know him too well probably couldn’t tell the difference. And when Ohm finally snapped out of it a couple hours later, he was surprised it was evening. He was surprised at Cartoonz’s panicked expression.

              “Toony, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry…” Ohm started stuttering. But Cartoonz just shook his head. It wasn’t his fault, it was things that happened to him that were at fault. The trauma that he had no control over. They spent that night talking about what happened and assuring Ohm that he’s not just crazy. Cartoonz didn’t care that he had to wash his shirt afterwards.

              “I think…I think I know how you can help. But you have to be patient.” Ohm admitted one night during dinner. Cartoonz stopped the mouthful he was about to eat and gave Ohm his full attention. “I know you’re scared to touch me when I’m in that state…but please, just touch me. I’ve realized it’s easy to pull myself out when there’s something tangible I can ground myself on. Just remind me to come back to reality. Remind me there is a reality to come back to…” Ohm’s breath started to stagger. These things were never easy for him to talk about. Cartoonz walked around the table to Ohm’s side, kneeled down and grasped his hands. He kissed Ohm’s cheek, reminding him if he needed him to hold on, he’ll never let go.

              Cartoonz learned a lot of stuff along the year he’s been with Ohm. It was a lot of trial and error and a lot of learning for both parties. It was a lot of studying and working around things. But things are worth it when it came to his boyfriend.

              Sometimes, there was signs when something was wrong. Like when Ohm loses interest in things or when he starts to pull away and isolate himself. That’s usually when the walls start happening, the wall that cuts him off from the world in front of him. The wall that contains him in his lost space. Ohm says his focus usually starts getting fuzzy when he gets overwhelmed or when he has a flashback. But since it’s impossible for Cartoonz to foresee things like that they came up with a color system to communicate with. Code: Lime Green (Ohm’s favorite color) when he was good. Code: Grey when he was in-between. Code: Orange when he was anxious. Code: Blue when he was depressed. And finally, Code: Black when the numbness takes him. The same color as nothingness. Whatever color, Cartoonz still loved Ohm but it’s obvious that Cartoonz’s, and Ohm’s of course, favorite days were when they were fully engulfed in each other, enjoying the world, Ohm whispering ‘Lime Green’ over and over again.

               Today, for some reason, felt off for Cartoonz. It wasn’t like his routine was any different. He woke up, went to the bathroom, fed his cat and went for a quick run. Then he ate breakfast, nursed his hot coffee while he texted Ohm his daily morning text. Ohm responded with a heart and a link to an article he found interesting. Today was a work day, which meant he was going to spend most of it recording, responding to emails and messages, and doing final edits before setting the videos live. It was a productive day but there was just something in his stomach that was telling him something was off. He felt off-balanced in a way. He quickly looked at the clock, realizing it was time to call Ohm and ask him what they wanted to do for dinner. Ohm hasn’t texted him since the afternoon. That was a common thing though. It was something that happened a lot when they were both too engrossed in their work to talk but Cartoonz couldn’t help but think about the feeling in his stomach that he had all day. He started to worry when Ohm didn’t answer his call. On his second call, however, he answered on the fourth ring.

              “Hello?” Cartoonz swallowed at the low, indifferent voice.

              “Ohm? Is everything okay?” There was slow breathing on the other line until a raspy voice appeared.

              “…Luke…Black…” And then the line was dead. Cartoonz pocketed his phone, grabbed his keys and a jacket and was out the door.

              When he arrived at Ohm’s house, he saw the familiar tell-tale signs of a Code: Black. The blinds were closed which was unusual because Ryan likes to open the windows to let the spring breeze in during the morning. All the lights in the house were off even though it was nearing sunset and the faint glow of the sun was no good. As he neared Ryan’s door, he realized the front porch light wasn’t even set. Luke lifted the third potted plant that was near the porch swing, finding the spare key that was there just for him. He entered the house, finding it cold and quiet.

              “Ryan? Are you here?” he called, turning on all the lights as he went and boosting up the thermostat. A jingling of bells answered him instead as Tiny starts galloping towards Luke from the hallway.

              “Hey there, boy. Been keeping your Dad company while I was gone? Where’s your owner? Where’s Ryan?” Luke scratches the small dog’s chin, getting excited licks up his palm. Tiny whimpers at the mention of his owner. He barks and heads toward the hallway, looking back every once in awhile to make sure Cartoonz was following. He’s brought to Ohm’s office, where the man in question is sitting in his gaming chair in the middle of the room. The only thing illuminating the room were the duel screens from his PC set-up showing that he was in the middle of editing a video. But the man was turned away from it, choosing to look at the other direction instead.

              “Ryan? Sweetheart? What are you looking at?” Cartoonz gently asked while Tiny settled back in between Ohm’s feet.

              “A wall.” Ohm responded in a monotone voice. It was hollow and ghosted around the room. Cartoonz saw the wall too. Not the office wall, however, but the invisible wall that was blocking him from Ohm.

              “Okay. Describe the wall for me.” Cartoonz says, taking off his jacket and throwing it on the couch. He turns on a lamp light, not wanting to turn on the ceiling light in case it was too bright. Finally, he sees his boyfriend’s face. It was blank, his eyes dull and glazed over. His cheeks were damp, signifying that must’ve been crying earlier. Cartoonz never liked when he looked like that. It pained him with worry. But his rational side told him not to panic. Panic was the last thing he needed in this situation. He learnt that the hard way.

              “Describe the wall to me, sweetheart. What’s the color of the paint?” Ohm slightly lifts his head.

              “It’s…it’s navy blue.” He takes a deep breath.

              “Yes, it is. We painted it navy blue last summer if you remember. We’re in your office. Tell me more. What else do you see?” Cartoonz was on Ohm’s side now, stroking his hair softly.

              “I see…there’s, there’s posters on the wall. Fan art….and a light switch…there’s a desk. There’s a bunny on the desk.” Ohm takes another deep breath. He starts to scrunch his eyes, trying to process what’s in front of him.

              “Good, Ryan, good. Tell me what you hear now. Focus on your hearing.” Ohm thinks for a bit and licks his lips.

              “I hear the fans of my computer…and scratching. Dog scratching…And…the heater?”

              “Yeah, I turned it on when I came in.” Cartoonz nodded, waiting for him to continue. He starts humming a tune.

              “I hear your accent and…humming. Are you humming your outro song?”

              “Yeah, it’s the best goddamn song I know.” Cartoonz chuckles. A hint of a smile peaks out and Cartoonz knows it’s more of a real one than not. He swipes his hair one more time before sliding towards Ohm’s shoulder and down his arm, never leaving his person. Cartoonz walks around the chair so he was facing Ohm. He grips his hands, applying pressure with his thumbs to remind him he’s there.

              “You’re doing so well. How’s it going, sweetheart? Squeeze my hands for me.” Ohm’s fingers twitch before clenching his hands around his. Cartoonz lightly squeezes back, hoping to bring him down.

              Sometimes, this was enough. Sometimes, reminding him of his surroundings and giving him something to grasp was enough. But the way Ohm clenched and unclenched his hands and the way he shook his head with each steady breath, he realized he was still trying to claw his way out.

              “Ryan, remember what we practiced, Love. Press your feet on the ground, tense your legs, then your thighs, then your stomach…keep going up. Pay attention to how it feels. Good, good.” Luke repeated the grounding technique. He knew it was easier for Ohm to focus with instruction. It was almost like a yoga coach. He watched Ohm’s muscles contract and relax then contract and relax again. It was a system of control, Ohm once said, it reminded him that he had control of his own body.

              “Ryan. Listen. We’re in your office. It’s just me, you, and Tiny. It’s Monday in April. You’re okay. You’re safe. You can do this. There’s no danger here.” Luke repeated the affirmations until Ryan’s eyes started to flutter. They dart around, character splashing down his face. He meets Luke’s eyes and gives him a confused look. Luke lets go of Ryan’s hands and places them on his cheeks. Ryan follows him and lays his hands on top of Luke’s. “Ryan?”

              “Luke you’re…how long have I been gone?” He was still trying to lift the final remnants of the fog but was coming to.

              “About 15 or so minutes with me. Not sure how long before.”

              “Shit.” Ryan muttered. “How did I let myself fall into that. I don’t understand what happened.” Cartoonz understood his disappointment. Self-awareness was something he’s been working on and has gotten quite good at. It must be frustrating to fall into habits again, it must be frustrating to remember he wasn’t linear.

              “You responded this time though. You picked up the phone and told me what was happening. We went through the motions together. That’s a good sign.” Ohm closed his eyes while Cartoonz massaged his cheeks. The times when Ryan was unresponsive were the hardest ones. All Luke could do was hold him, wait and wonder where his mind was taking him. Thankfully, those were rare days.

              “Yeah, I can vaguely recall that. I tried to stay. I did good. I’m here.” Ryan sternly told himself. He opened his eyes and gave Luke a smile. It reflected all the soft things he was finally feeling. Cartoonz kissed the tip of his nose then another one to his lips.

              “Okay, bitch. It’s time to eat dinner now. Look, I’m starving and I know you are too. Think I still have some sweet tea stashed in your fridge.” They walked to the kitchen deciding to order delivery instead. Ohm wanted to watch some movies too but he knew it was just an excuse to cuddle on the couch. Cartoonz was pouring them glasses of sweet tea, looking through food options on his phone. “Hey, babe, does Thai sound good? I’m kinda feelin’ spicy and…” His sentence was cut off suddenly, when he hears objects fall on the floor. Cartoonz pivots and walks into the livingroom to find Ohm, a stack of DVDs dropped on the ground, while staring at his wall calendar.

              “It’s April 7th. That makes a lot of sense now.” He says moreso to himself than to his partner. Cartoonz’s breath hitches. How did he not realize the date? He knew it was April but…was that what his body was trying to tell him all day? Cartoonz thought back to April 7th of last year. It was filled with so much tears and a whirlwind of emotions. So much phasing in and out. Cartoonz never forgot how fragile Ohm felt. Ohm was in so much pain. It messed with him that he couldn’t fully comprehend the things that haunted him about this day. It was a nightmare.

              Cartoonz braced himself, ready to catch his boyfriend if he fell again. He was ready to do it all night if he had to. Cartoonz loved Ohmwrecker. He was never going to let him go through this day alone.

              “Well, damnit.” Ohm said. He took a long breath and tapped his fingerprints on the shelf before picking up the pen he hung next to his calendar. Ryan crossed out the date with a big ‘x’. “Yeah, Thai sounds fine, Toonzy. You think the restaurant down west is open and can deliver? They make a mean Pad Thai.” He starts picking up the movies he’s dropped, fingering through which ones they should watch. Cartoonz just continues looking on, his heart swelling in his chest.

              “I can feel you staring at me, Toonz. And I know what you’re thinking. The date still bothers me obviously; as we saw earlier. But I’m fine at the moment. I want to stay in the present with you. I will stay in the present with you.” Cartoonz was always amazed at the strength his boyfriend had. He was amazed that the capacity of it was limitless. He was fighting but he put out one hell of a fight.

              “I’m so proud of you, love. So fucking proud.” Cartoonz trails his lips down Ohm’s jaw until their lips meet. They took their time to taste each other, to feel the other so close. Ohm released and leaned his forehead on his. They entangled fingers for a second, just basking in the moment before Ohm giggles and leads them back into the kitchen. Cartoonz still didn’t know how he managed to find such a wonderful man.

[eeveecraft]

Looking Through the Dead Subreddit of r/tulpasforskeptics

Okay, gonna admit: I was bored and wanted to do something Tulpamancy-related. So for about two whole hours, Rylazide (we got to chat and I guess do some passive auditory imposition practice) sat with me as I read through this subreddit I found from this Tulpamancy post on r/Tulpas: Link

In it’s entirety, the subreddit was actually pretty short for a subreddit and I was easily able to reach the bottom. There’s only one mod of the subreddit: the owner, u/chaneilfior and the major majority of the posts were made by them. Most were articles potentially proving Tulpamancy to be possible, but incredibly time-consuming and difficult from what Chaneilfior believed. Others were posts about Tulpamancers either admitting to lying about being Tulpamancers or Tulpamancers giving up, saying they were deluding themselves like Koomer did.

Then, I came across a string of posts from Chaneilfior taking on the task of not exactly creating a tulpa, but active forcing for 168 hours in total before the Chirstmas of 2018. The results of such were simply “bland” despite all the effort, but they decided to continue with their most recent update mentioning how they’re close to giving up. Honestly, I was fascinated since Chaneilfior did a few things experienced Tulpamancers discouraged like milestones and not putting much belief into it, and Chaneilfior does admit a few flaws with how they did and why they got the results they got.

Of course, there were a few posts from a few other users, but they were few and far in between, most lacking depth and mostly asking questions. There were people who believed that Tulpamancers were mentally ill people using tulpas to mask their illness, people who are Tulpamancers who lurked and were interested like I was, and then people in the middle who really just wanted to learn more. 

All in all, I read every post, most of the comments, and came to the conclusion that this subreddit didn’t really feel like a community at all. In reality, it felt like a skeptic person archiving and documenting their journey to prove this to themselves, tried to open some discussion with little success, and seemingly is about to (or has) given up and left. 

To me... It proved that maybe not everyone’s brain is capable of Tulpamancy (though some do finally get results after years of trying) and that’s perfectly okay. Plurality in general (any type) is not suited for everyone, and that’s fine since people have their own ways of coping or existing, really. Chaneilfior did have some good points on Tulpamancy and mental health, the state of the Tulpamancy community, and why it’s okay to be skeptical.

Anyway, thanks for reading through this long-ass post, and I hope at least some of you find it interesting. 

See you in the next post!

6-23-2019

[saltywithsarcasm]

Chapter 2 of Really Passionate Fans has been posted!

Akira stretches her arms over her head as she gets ready to clock out, hearing the door of the store open and smiles when she sees a familiar face.

“Hello Yagi.” She greets from behind the counter and sees the old man wave at her as he picks up a few things.

“I didn’t know you worked here, Yamato.” Yagi says, smiling as he comes up to the counter.

“I’m just about to clock out actually.” She says, ringing his items up.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt-“

“Not at all, we can walk to the bus stop together if you’d like.” Akira offers, holding his bag out for him to take.

“I’d like that.” The older man says. “I’ll wait right here for you.”

Akira heads to the back to gather her things, clocking out and goes back up front to meet her friend.

“I’m ready, Yagi.” She hoists the strap of her bag over her shoulder. He gives her a little nod of acknowledgement and they walk side by side on the sidewalk.

“I’m surprised to see you.” Akira tells him, glancing at him from the corner of her eyes and brushes her fingers through her hair, feeling her spider move to just behind her ear. “Never seen you come into the store before.”

“I just needed something quick to eat and drink, it’s been a long day for me.” He says, holding up the bag. “Really tired.”

“Where do you work?”

“At a school, I’m a teacher.” Akira rubs her chin in thought, probably works with younger students since she’s never seen him at her school. “My students are quite a rowdy bunch but they’re good kids, they just wear me out.”

He chuckles as they approach the bus stop, sitting down on the bench together.

“I’ve been doing nothing but working, sleeping and school.” Akira says, yawning and stretches her arms above her head tiredly. She can’t wait to crawl into bed, hopefully mom and her stepdad are already asleep by the time she gets home. “I’m so tired!”

Her phone makes a notification sounds, getting her attention and reaches into her pocket to see her group chat was blowing up; She opens the app and sees a new article linked in a post.

‘Present Mic admitted into the hospital after collapsing of a fever on U.A. grounds.’

Akira’s eyes widen and she turns to the older man, holding her phone up for him to see.

“Did you hear about this?” She asks as Yagi leans a bit closer to read the link title on her phone, a small frown growing on his face before reaching for his phone to type a bit before sending a message.

“No, I haven’t heard about it at all until now.” He frowns, leaning back against his seat. “I’m sure he’ll be fine though, so don’t worry.”

“I wish he just skipped his last show and rested.” Akira turns back to her phone’s screen, biting the side of her cheek as she reads over the article.

There’s a new comment.

Techgrip;

‘Hope he feels better soon, makes me feel so bad that he’s so miserably ill. Wish I could do something to make him feel better.’

Akira huffs through her nose, rolling her eyes a bit at the comment before turning back to the other who seems to be messaging someone. So she turns back to her own phone and goes back to that user’s profile.

More updates, posts about wishing they could take care of the hero while he’s sick.

Kind of odd.

She notices the post has a certain tag, ‘Tech talks’ and clicks it to see more similar posts. The majority of them are just admiring the hero about how handsome he is, how they would like to have dinner with him, spend time with him and...have sex with him.

Okay so this user is definitely a guy from what she’s read from his intimate fantasies he’s written of them. Akira scrolls down a bit and has to look away from her phone from the ridiculousness that she was seeing, this guy was obsessive to a delusional extent, he seems to want a actual relationship with a man he’s never even met.

Present Mic never really talked about the sort of person he likes, she’s not even sure if the man swung that way.

Spiderace;

‘Is Mic even gay?’

She comments on one of his fantasy posts and waits a couple moments, thinking he would reply quickly again but when he doesn’t, she slips her phone back into her pocket as the bus arrives.

“I have to go, I’m sorry but I won’t be able to ride the bus with you tonight; Will you be alright?” Yagi says, standing up and bows to her in apology.

“Um, yeah. I’ll be fine.” She reassures him, getting up and collecting her bag. “Nobody been bothering me lately, I’ll see you next time.”

“Goodnight, Yamato.” He says, rushing away in a hurry. She watches him round the corner with a frown, wondering what came up to make him run off like that.

When she gets home, she walks softly past her stepfather, who was sleeping in his armchair in the living room and slips inside her bedroom to get ready to take a shower and change into her pjs.

Akira drops her bag onto her bed beside her Mic plush and digs through her dresser for her pjs, only to hear her phone buzz inside of her pocket. She pulls it out of her skirt pocket and sits down on the edge of the bed, clicking on the notification and it opens to Techgrip’s profile again.

Techgrip;

‘He’s very bisexual ;)’

Bisexual? Present Mic is bi? How does he know that? None of his other fans knew this and Mic certainly didn’t mention anything about it before but he never said he was straight either, most people just assumed. She thought it was cool though, being asexual, it was nice to know her hero was lgbt too but how did Techgrip know that?

Akira knows if she asked, he’d just say his sources again so she just tosses her phone onto her desk to get ready for bed.

[man-i-dont-know]

BNHA Chapter 175 & 176: Thoughts and Spoilers

Hello, I am back. Sorry the last couple weeks were busy. Anyway, I am really loving these two chapters so lets get right into it.

Preparation for the festival continues, and Deku still really can’t dance. We see a cute Eri and by now y’all probably decided that it was Aizawa doing her hair, and I agree (the dudes got some long locks himself, he knows how to do hair I can guarantee that). The class has made some serious progress and they are all nervous/hyped for the festival. Then a little bit of plot happens, Deku realized some of the ropes that will support the disco bal- ahem - Aoyama, are frayed and they need new ones. Deku says he’ll go out and get some new ones after his morning training (nothing will go wrong I’m sure). Kaminari notes that Deku will be cutting it close with training, shopping and prepping for the festival. So finally, the day of the festival arrives.

Hatsume hasn’t slept or bathed in a week and runs out into the woods to find Deku to give him his modified gloves (and damn they are stylin’). The sytlin’ aspect is actually something Mei consciously had in mind when she made it, which amazed me because all of her previous “babies” have been just straight up robots, but this time she had Deku’s hero costume in mind when she developed it. Mei is going to be a top-class hero support... uh.. person? Is there a title for it? Engineer? Something like that.

Deku is running a tad late because he was working with the gloves so much, but now he is going to get the ropes. He passes some of the festival which is nice to see that it is all coming together. He falls even further behind because the store he was thinking of was not selling any ropes that would work. At precisely 8:30, Deku bumps into two very suspicious individuals coming out of an alley. This oddly... gentle... individual diverts his path away from Deku and mentions something about a high-end brand of tea. Deku recognizes the brand as the one Momo so graciously served Class 1-A the other day. The mention of tea got this suspiciously suave individual’s attention and started a conversation without thinking. Then, legitimately, the scene gets tense. They start to piece together who each other are. “A high-class student,” “a suspicious character linked with tea,” “a student in the UA area,” “a familiar voice,” “he is a student at UA!” “He is Gentle!” Cue all black panel with Gentle and Deku staring each other down. I loved this sequence for a couple reasons: 1.) neither character is stupid, they’ve deduced who the other is very quickly with minimal interaction, 2.) other shows or stories keep characters in the dark about simple stuff for ages just for tension, whereas here nothing was kept hidden for long, but maximum tension was reached in three pages, 3.) the characters aren’t dumb! I can not stress that enough! God I love seeing characters figure thing out like normal human beings, it is so refreshing to see, 4.) and both characters are taking the other very seriously (more about that later).

Deku then does something that I adore, he asks Gentle to stop. Straight forward and honest, he leaves Gentle open to several options, one of which is dropping the idea and leaving entirely. It also speaks volumes of Deku’s character, despite being a hero confronted with a known villain, his first instinct is a peaceful resolution, not a fight. He does not instigate a fight, such a peaceful kid (despite how freaking crazy he is during his fights). The chapter ends like this, with a small counter saying the performance will take place in an hour and twenty-eight minutes.

The next chapter starts with Gentle admitting that Deku outted him, and Deku checks to see if there are any civilians on the street to worry about. I love that small gesture cause that is something that is typically neglected in stories, bystanders and if they are in harms way. Deku determines that they only thing now is to prepare for a fight. gentle has the same idea, whips off his disguise and tells Brava to start filming and not to stop under any circumstances. Gentle starts with a flourish and poses for the camera, Deku lunges, and basically hits one of those saran wrap pranks where it is pulled across a door frame. This saran wrap however is incredibly elastic and launches Deku backwards at high speeds. Gentle confirms that his quirk is elasticity, which is similar to what I imagined, so I am glad one of my theories was close to the mark. Gentle actually seems very surprised by the sheer force that Deku was launched at, meaning that he doesn’t put any force into his quirk at all, all the bounce comes from outside force (makes sense in this cause Deku was using Full Cowl). The distance that Deku was launched intimidates Gentle, saying that if the kid could withstand that, he must have some serious power behind him. Coming to that conclusion, Gentle and Brava book it.

Deku gets up and chases them further, Gentle sets up a trampoline and bounces Deku into the air so they can get further away. Gentle takes this moment to talk to Deku, saying that he understands Deku’s desire for the festival to go well, but Gentle is prioritizing his attack over the students having fun, which as a villain should be a given, but Gentle doesn’t really give off the villain vibe. Gentle and Brava make another dash for it, and Brava recognizes Deku from the sports festival, saying that he was “the crazy boy who fought by destroying his arms.” Gentle then gives a face of comedic fear, and I love it, Deku’s madman reputation is giving people pause now, I love that he is scaring the crap outta people he hasn’t even meet yet. Something similar occurred kinda recently in One Piece, I might write a post about that later. Anyways, Deku is tumbling through the air. He is remembering a conversation he had with Eri, and how she is looking forward to the dance party (THIS WAS SAID WHILE ERI WAS TRYING TO SMILE AND IT WAS SO SWEET I BECAME PHYSICALLY ILL THEN I LOOKED AT IT MORE). Deku is also remembering helping Jirou compile a load of notes she took for the other band members. She had notes on par to Deku’s hero notes, and Deku was thrilled cause originally he thought Jirou had a favorite hero she wanted to take notes on (Deku’s reaction to this was not like himself, much more like a friend’s though I can’t really place whose, Iida maybe? Either way, friends are rubbing off on each other). It is shown later Tokoyami using those notes, and its implied that Bakugou has already read it, which makes sense with his academic jock vibe.

This is all to show that Deku absolutely can not allow Gentle to get anywhere near to UA. Deku is about to launch a midair attack, remembers his training with All Might and comments about dancing from Mina. This combination allows Deku to fire off an air blast while upside down to stall Gentle. Deku immediately catches up with a Full Cowl jump and sends both of them into a construction site. And that is where the chapter ends, but I’ve got a couple other thoughts I’d like to share.

So there are a couple things I absolutely adore when some elements are included in a story. One of which is recognition. Not like a character starts off well known, but when a character works hard and somewhere during the story you realize, oh crap, this character is really well known now. Deku is getting there and you’ve got no idea how much that hypes me up. The implications of this fight with Gentle could launch Deku even further into the public eye. If Deku defeats Gentle, that will be the first villain Deku took down without help. On top of that, the whole thing will be recorded, meaning Deku will have to learn a lesson or two about camera awareness or at least he has to acknowledge the celebrity aspect of heroing. I would love for Deku to get interviewed or something, maybe we see a new article about him or something. Plus, imagine this: Deku starts to develop a fan club. Of course Eri and Kouta are the founder and president of the club, but imagine Deku getting recognized in public positively (we’re just gonna forget about Shigaraki “recognizing” Deku in the mall). To sum it up, Deku is moving up in the world, and there is some major potential for him to get his name catapulted into the pro-hero world.

The other thing I absolutely love is when opponents recognize each other as strong enemies. Far too often villains are so egotistical that they refuse to see the possibility that their adversary could beat them, even if they have already been beaten. A fight where both sides realize they can lose makes the fight 100x more tense, and this is what is happening here. Gentle is legitimately wary of the strength that Deku wields, and Deku is the cautious type by nature, so of course he too is aware of how this situation could be very bad. A fight between equals is sooooo good. Those are two of things I love seeing in stories, I got a couple others, but those are the ones that apply to this chapter.

That should be about it. Thank you for taking your time to read this whole long thing. I am thinking that I might try to diversify this blog to some other stories as well (anime, movies, etc.), though I have been busy recently so I am not sure how that would work out. I’ll figure it out later. Again, thank you for reading and I hope you have a great day.

[your-dietician]

New York’s troubled election agency ignites fury

New Post has been published on https://depression-md.com/new-yorks-troubled-election-agency-ignites-fury/

New York’s troubled election agency ignites fury

Eric Adams’ campaign filed a preemptive lawsuit Wednesday in Brooklyn, asking for the opportunity to have a judge oversee the results. | Spencer Platt/Getty Images

NEW YORK — Eric Adams and Kathryn Garcia are suing. Donald Trump is pushing conspiracy theories. And the final results in New York’s mayoral primary may not be known for weeks or possibly months.

The botched count of the city’s ranked-choice election results Tuesday sparked a flood of criticism and calls for reform of New York’s notorious Board of Elections — but as candidate Maya Wiley said Tuesday night, “It is impossible to be surprised.”

Like the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade and July 4 on Coney Island, bungled votes and the uproar that follows have become a tradition in New York where elections have long been run by a board controlled by political party machines and staffed through patronage.

The Board of Elections was forced to retract a set of mayoral primary results it published on Tuesday, admitting that staffers had accidentally included 135,000 test ballots in the numbers. The election is the first citywide contest conducted under a new system of ranked-choice voting.

“It’s broken. It’s arcane,” Mayor Bill de Blasio said of the board on Wednesday. “This is a partisan board with no accountability… They’re a relic from the past.”

The cycle of election day fumbles — followed by recriminations, hearings and investigations — has played out many times before. But New York elected officials have never taken action to overhaul the board, whose structure is dictated by state law.

In fact, de Blasio’s comments echoed those he made in October, when the elections board declined city funding to expand early voting and sites saw long lines ahead of the presidential election.

“This is the moment for change and reform. It’s clearly the moment. People are angry. And they want to be involved and they’re going to want to be involved next year so we gotta make it better before next year’s elections,” he said at the time. “I’m going to reach out to the governor and offer a proposal for how to change things.”

He cited a bill in the state Legislature he’s backing that could “professionalize” the board’s operations, but said changing the structure of the board would require a constitutional amendment.

The board is controlled by ten commissioners, one Democrat and one Republican from each of the five boroughs’ political parties. Those commissioners in turn have authority over the board’s operations — and its hiring, with jobs at every level traditionally divvied up between the local parties.

It’s one of the last vestiges of a party machine system that dates back to Tammany Hall — with county parties having lost much of their influence over who wins local elections, but having retained control over the administration of the elections themselves.

The City Council has the authority to approve BOE commissioners, but it has not used that power to veto problematic picks — instead rubber stamping nominations by the county parties, as it did last fall with two appointees whose main qualifications were their political connections.

De Blasio is pushing two measures in the state legislature: a bill that would give the board’s executive director authority over day-to-day operations, and a state constitutional amendment that would terminate the partisan structure of the board.

Senate Majority Leader Andrea Stewart-Cousins (D-Yonkers) vowed hearings soon.

“The situation in New York City is a national embarrassment and must be dealt with promptly and properly,” she said Wednesday in a statement. “In the coming weeks, the Senate will be holding hearings on this situation and will seek to pass reform legislation as a result at the earliest opportunity.”

The bill’s sponsor, state Sen. Liz Krueger (D-Manhattan) said, “The number of screw-ups at every level of management that must have gone into the release of those incorrect numbers is mind boggling,” and demanded immediate reform.

Representatives for Assembly Speaker Carl Heastie (D-Bronx) and Gov. Andrew Cuomo did not respond to questions about their positions on the legislation.

But the sense of déjà vu was palpable.

Public Advocate Jumaane Williams said he hoped the “wildly, wildly incompetent error” would be enough of a humiliation to finally spur reform.

“We’ve seen some pretty bad errors before. This one seems to be a national embarrassment,” he said.

Last year, the BOE failed to send out absentee ballots in time, forcing many New Yorkers who had requested them to vote in person despite the Covid-19 pandemic or sacrifice their right to vote. The general election saw another bungle: The board mailed out some 100,000 ballots with incorrect return envelopes to voters in Brooklyn, feeding conspiracy theories by then-President Donald Trump.

Trump, who has been pushing for audits of 2020 election results based on false claims of election fraud, took the opportunity Wednesday to tee off on his hometown’s elections administrators.

“Based on what has happened, nobody will ever know who really won,” the former president said in a statement. “Watch the mess you are about to see in New York City, it will go on forever. They should close the books and do it all over again, the old-fashioned way, when we had results that were accurate and meaningful.”

The board is rife with patronage and outright nepotism: A probe by the Department of Investigation in 2013 found at least 69 BOE employees had a relative also working at the board, including two of the commissioners. That investigation came when DOI created a special unit to scrutinize the board, after finding the agency wasted millions of dollars by hiring thousands of unnecessary poll workers for an off-year election.

Ahead of the 2016 presidential primary, BOE wrongly purged over 200,000 voters from the rolls. That contest led to another round of investigations, including one by the state attorney general.

Reports of chaos at the polls — closed polling sites, broken machines, long lines and more — marred one election after another, including the 2010 state primary where new voting machines were adopted, which led to the firing of the board’s executive director; the 2012 presidential general election; and the 2018 general election for governor, where soggy ballots on a rainy day were blamed for causing jams.

De Blasio offered the board $20 million in exchange for agreeing to a series of reforms, including improving poll worker training and salaries and bringing in an outside consultant to review its operations. BOE turned the money down.

While the bungling is nothing new, the latest flub marred the city’s first attempt to choose a mayor through a new ranked-choice voting system. Critics of ranked-choice voting seized on the trouble to criticize the system, but its defenders said human error and not ranked-choice was to blame.

Ranked-choice allows voters to select up to five candidates, in order of preference. If no one gets a majority, the last-place candidate is eliminated and their votes assigned to the voter’s second choice, a process that continues until a candidate tops 50 percent.

Tuesday’s results, since retracted, were a tabulation of those elimination rounds, though they were never intended to be final because more than 124,000 absentee ballots still have to be counted. They showed front-runner Eric Adams’ lead in the Democratic primary narrowing substantially. New results released Wednesday showed roughly the same outcome.

“Our members warned the public for months that the City was ill-prepared to execute elections under the new Ranked-Choice Voting system, and the concerns they raised continue to be borne out by the facts,” the City Council’s Black, Latino and Asian Caucus said in a statement. The caucus pushed for legislation that would put ranked- choice voting, approved by public referendum in 2019, up for another referendum that could repeal it.

Adams’ campaign filed a preemptive lawsuit Wednesday in Brooklyn, asking for the opportunity to have a judge oversee the results. “Today we petitioned the court to preserve our right to a fair election process and to have a judge oversee and review ballots, if necessary,” the campaign said in a statement. “We are notifying the other campaigns of our lawsuit through personal service, as required by law, because they are interested parties. We invite the other campaigns to join us and petition the court as we all seek a clear and trusted conclusion to this election.”

Garcia’s campaign filed a similar suit on Wednesday as well.

Susan Lerner, head of the good government group Common Cause, which backs ranked-choice voting, said the system’s opponents “are misguided, and they are misleading the public.”

“Many of them are in positions of power to actually effect change at the Board of Elections and reform the structure,” she said. “Instead they deflect, by pounding away at RCV rather than addressing the problems they’ve been ignoring and benefiting from.”

De Blasio did manage to find a silver lining: The city’s primary was moved up to June this year instead of the fall, which leaves a lot more lead time ahead of the general election to settle on a Democratic nominee.

“If this were a September primary, we’d all be screwed right now,” he said.

Joe Anuta and Sally Goldenberg contributed to this report.

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[sleepieash]

[efflorescence] - bakudeku; hanahaki, 2/?

as beautiful as they were, he grew tired of the sight (and taste) of green chrysanthemums after the first petal fell from his mouth.

previous

"What are you planning to do?" Bakugou's mother asked while he buried himself in article after article on Hanahaki.

He'd confided in her that he'd need more medicine soon even though his current dosage was supposed to last him until the end of the month. But with the way things were going, he wouldn't even make it to the end of the month without more medication. 

Mitsuki, ever the worrier despite her tough exterior, had given him a strange (and long) look but thankfully, didn't ask any questions. She'd just gotten him what he needed.

However, Bakugou figured that she'd eventually get tired of his silence. Which is why he opted to just tell her a bit more instead.

"Ignore it, of course." he replied as she set the new medicine bottle next to the old one.

"You're so fucking stubborn." Mitsuki sneered. She crossed her arms and gave him "The Look," the overly parental one that made him feel like he was disappointing everyone all at once. "Why don't you just tell Izuku how you feel and get it over with?"

Well, that was a shocker.

"H-how...?" Bakugou couldn't even get the entire question out. He'd never discussed with his parents who exactly was the reason he'd acquired Hanahaki in the first place. It was surprising that his mother knew despite how careful he'd been.

"I'm your mother, kid." she said, her expression growing just the tiniest bit softer. "You think I wouldn't notice something like that? Not to mention that it's seemed to have gotten worse now and Izuku is the only one that's been around you since childhood."

Bakugou felt the irritation grow within him at her words. If she so easily saw through him, who else did? It only fueled the thought inside him that somehow Midoriya knew about how the disease was plaguing him. After all, if Mitsuki had seen all the signs and put the pieces together, a nerd like Midoriya would definitely be skeptical.

Sighing, he tried to calm down. "There’s no way he could know." he reassured himself. Midoriya was smart, he reluctantly admitted, but there was no way he could come to a conclusion that easily. Not without evidence.

With that, Bakugou made a silent vow to put forth a greater effort to decrease the chance that Midoriya bore witness to the flowers growing inside of him. He'd read articles about people who'd discovered methods to discreetly dispose of the petals in public.

He could do it.

He had to.

"I can't tell him." Bakugou finally spat out. "There's no way he feels the same. I'd rather keep managing this shitty illness than deal with fucking...ugh..." he hesitated in saying it. "Heartbreak..."

Mitsuki's slightly angry expression seemed to fall at his words and she took on a much sadder one. Bakugou immediately felt a small surge of guilt flow through him. Sometimes, they didn't get along, but he never wanted her to worry so much about him. Especially not when he had everything under control.

"Just..." Mitsuki started. "Think about it. You may be hell to deal with..." she angled a smile towards him at this. "But you're my kid and I hate seeing you like this."

A bit choked up, he only nodded in response.

His mother seemed satisfied and made to leave his room. At the last moment, she turned and addressed him once more. "And remember, Katsuki, the surgery is always an option."

With that, she took her leave.

Alone, Bakugou placed his head in his hands and tried to sort through his muddled thoughts. He was thoroughly confused and ultimately didn't know what to do about his ailment besides continuing to manage it as he'd done for so long.

He did know one thing though. And that was that Mitsuki was wrong.

Since the day he'd been diagnosed with Hanahaki, surgery had never been an option for him and he figured that nothing had changed even then.

The next day, Bakugou walked into class, a handful of pills in his pocket and a handbook on Hanahaki in his palm. Kirishima greeted him from his desk where he sat with Sero, Ashido and Kaminari huddled around him. Bakugou acknowledged him with a grunt before heading to his own desk.

Thankfully, this time Midoriya had joined Iida and Uraraka at Todoroki's desk. Bakugou tried not to pay too much attention to him out of fear for himself but chatter of the upcoming school trip flooded into his ears. Todoroki deadpanned something and Midoriya laughed in response.

That was what compelled Bakugou to turn slightly and watch him out of the corner of his eye no matter how much he tried to force himself not to. Midoriya's laugh was melodious and the genuinely happy look on his face made Bakugou warm slightly against his will. He could honestly listen to him al-

Feeling a tickle rise in his throat, he cleared it and pulled his gaze away from Midoriya, settling on Todoroki.

As soon as he did, however, a cold feeling settled in his veins. Todoroki was watching Midoriya with a look that Bakugou couldn't quite place. Admiration? Fondness? Whatever it was, the small smile he held directed at the green-haired boy lit something within him. For whatever reason, he wanted to push Todoroki away and wipe that look off of his face.

Midoriya seemed to take notice of Todoroki in that instance and returned his smile with one of his own. Bakugou felt the cold coil that had settled in his stomach grow tighter and he grit his teeth. This unfamiliar feeling was almost as bad as the breathlessness brought about by his Hanahaki. Why exactly was he experiencing something like this?

At the very least, he knew he didn’t like Todoroki being so close to Midoriya, talking excitedly to him, smiling at him with that foreign look in his eyes… Just thinking about it had him feeling like that again. And of course, to top it all off, the flowers seemed to stir within his lungs as well.

Groaning to himself, he opted for focusing on the door instead, contemplating leaving before Aizawa arrived. After all, who even fucking cared about the fact that Todoroki and Midoriya got along?

With dread, he found himself admitting that he cared. He cared a lot.

Thankfully, Aizawa took that moment to stride into the class, greeting them with an air of indifference. Bakugou paid little attention to him and instead chose to resume staring at his escape route. Aizawa seemed to only be addressing the individuals who had failed the practical at the moment anyway.

After brief information about the school trip, Aizawa passed out guides to each of them and then proceeded to dismiss them from class.

In his rush to leave, Bakugou had honestly forgotten that it was the last day of the semester. The thought of it gave him mixed feelings considering that during the school trip, he’d have less opportunities to manage his disease discreetly, but (and he hated to admit that he even wanted to) he’d be able to watch the interactions between Midoriya and Todoroki. Truthfully, the less he saw of them together the better, but the flowers spiraling out of control within him and the feelings that brought them about seemed less and less likely to let it go.

Clenching his fist, Bakugou figured he could turn this into something more positive. A way to train himself emotionally, a way to get stronger. If he could endure the school trip without blowing chrysanthemums everywhere, a better outcome of the disease might become a little closer.

He could get through this. He could.

He wasn’t left with his thoughts for long, having only gathered his belongings and walked a few feet away from the door before Kirishima literally crashed into him, throwing an arm around his shoulders. Sero, Kaminari and Ashido appeared not too long after, surrounding him. Bakugou only scowled at them in response.

“You have to tell us what’s wrong.” Kirishima said after a bit of the group staring him down.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Bakugou snarled at the redhead, but immediately felt too emotionally exhausted to even try to get out of Kirishima’s grasp. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“Dude, we can tell when something’s up with you.” Sero raised an eyebrow. “You might not wanna admit it, but we’re your friends.”

“Friends?” he thought in surprise.

Outwardly, he schooled his expression into one of distaste. “I don’t need any shitty friends.”

“Sure, you don’t, Blasty McSplode.” Kirishima said and Bakugou literally heard the grin on his face. “Just let us help you.”

“Yeah!” Ashido cut in. “Let us like, walk you home or something. That way, we’ll know you’re alright and then we’ll leave you alone.”

Bakugou opened his mouth to reply, to tell them that he didn’t need them parading around with him like he was a child that needed their protection. But, he closed it immediately upon seeing the looks on their faces. He could see the concern in their eyes. They seemed to be pleading with him. He tore his eyes away and glared at the ground.

More people worrying about him.

Why was he so weak?

“Fucking fine.” he managed. “Just don’t follow me inside my house, dipshits.”

Kaminari and Kirishima exchanged high fives as Sero and Ashido cheered. Bakugou, in turn, resisted the urge to smirk at how excited they seemed.

The five of them headed out together, Bakugou in the middle of them despite his attempts to lag a little bit behind. Kirishima and Ashido had linked their arms through his and after trying to push them off at least three times, he gave in and let them drag him along. Thankfully, after making sure he was compliant, the group settled back into a happy chatter.

“What do you think’s gonna happen on the school trip?” Ashido leaned over Bakugou a bit to address Kirishima.

The redhead brought his right hand up to his face in thought. “Hmm… I don’t know, but I hope it isn’t too difficult.” At this, he hangs his head. “I still can’t believe we failed.”

“That’s your own damn fault.” Bakugou commented.

“Come, on, dude.” Kirishima whined in response. “Cut us some slack! You’re the only one in our group who passed.”

“Even so,” Ashido started. “He wouldn’t have passed without Midoriya. He actually convinced Bakugou to work together with him.”

Kirishima nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, yeah! That dude’s so manly!”

The two of them exchanged a few more words before turning to Bakugou to gauge his reaction, probably expecting some curses and a few explosions. Both of them stopped short when seeing his expression.

The mention of Midoriya had forced Bakugou to of course, bring the green-haired boy back into his thoughts. His feelings during the practical had been nothing less than explosive. He hadn’t felt the flowers within him then, but he certainly still felt that fondness for Midoriya. Despite how irritated he made him, he’d still worked with him. And felt relief after doing so.

He’d found himself wanting to cooperate with Midoriya which at the time, he’d just figured that was because he wanted to pass or rather… win. However, now he knew it had nothing to do with that. It was because after all this time, trying to distance himself from Midoriya in the worst way possible and holding honest negative feelings for the other due to his own deep-rooted jealousy, he was still undeniably, and seemingly irrevocably in love with Midoriya.

Bakugou hadn’t admitted it to himself in a long time, choosing instead to put it into different words because he knew how it’d affect him. But, he couldn’t stop the thought from occurring and as soon as he acknowledged it, he could feel them—the chrysanthemums that refused to quit—rapidly growing within him. It was unnerving, to say the least, but he chose instead to force down the coughs that were sure to come.

Kirishima and Ashido looked on in concern as they waited for him to say something. Bakugou refused to open his mouth out of fear. Thankfully, Kaminari and Sero had walked a little ahead, chatting and unaware of what was occurring behind them.

“Don’t let them find out.” He thought desperately.  

But, even as he thought this, he knew it was futile. He could already feel petals spilling into his mouth and the urge to cough became unbearable.

“Hey, ar-“ Kirishima got out, but was interrupted by the violent cough erupting from Bakugou.

Bakugou tried to tell him and Ashido to leave, but he found his voice too raspy to form anything. Defeated, he unwillingly gave in to the urge to cough and green petals immediately flew everywhere. He didn’t try to gather them, knowing Kirishima and Ashido were already aware of what they were and what’s happening to him.

He doubled over and staggered to one of the street posts, unable to catch his breath. So far, this had been his worst fit. The last cough shook his body terribly and he spewed flower buds into his hand. Horrified, he shook them off.

After drinking in the air he desperately needed, he turned slightly to address Kirishima and Ashido. The two had watched the entire ordeal in shock. He grit his teeth and felt anger at himself grow within him like a wildfire. If only he’d made it home.

Kirishima stayed in place, brow furrowed, but Ashido approached Bakugou with a look he couldn’t decipher.

“Oh, Bakugou…” is all she said in perceived anguish as she took in the petals coating the ground.

Wordlessly, he pulled two pills out of his pocket and swallowed them dry. The feeling of flowers fading, he turned away from her and her undistinguishable expression and continued the trek home.

[licensedproducers]

Canada’s Cannabis Market Blueprint for the US

Some See Canada as the Leader While Others Highlight Mistakes – LPC

A recent editorial in the Winnipeg Free Press touts Canada’s cannabis market blueprint, specifically for the US. (Please see link to full article below.) The article references all the fears and concerns that provincial governments and others had. Today, more than a year later, those fears did not come to pass. “The sky has not fallen,” said the editorial, a consensus view of the editorial board. “No epidemic of cannabis addiction. No surge of stoned motorists weaving across the roads. No spike of industrial accidents involving marijuana use. You have to look closely to see any change in Canadian cannabis use and its effects.” The editorial states that in fact Statistics Canada does just that. According to the agency, 17 per cent said they have used cannabis compared to 14 per cent before legalization. Given that fewer people will admit cannabis use when it’s not legal, that’s likely even. That’s a checkmark in the cannabis market blueprint. What may not make its way to the US cannabis market blueprint is the retail model. There are approximately 400 stores in Canada, though only 24 cannabis retail stores in Ontario. (That may have recently risen to 25 stores.) However, only about 45 per cent of Canadians live within 10 kilometres of a cannabis retail store. That should change once Ontario opens up its cannabis retail market in 2020.

Cannabis Market Blueprint Already Being Developed in Individual States – LPC

In many ways, the cannabis market blueprint is already being developed in “early adopter” states such as Colorado and California. “Canada’s experience with legal cannabis will be watched closely in the United States,” the editorial continues. “The US appears to be in the midst of gradually changing its mind about cannabis. Canada, along with California, Colorado and about half of the states, are a little ahead of the curve.” But, the editorial argues, it’s the experience of Canada as a whole that will ultimately influence US cannabis legalization. “Eventually, the US government will... stop wasting law enforcement efforts on catching, convicting and imprisoning cannabis users. Successful legalization in Canada should help pave the way for a more tolerant policy in the US.” Not everyone believes Canada has the best cannabis market blueprint, based on comments at the bottom of the editorial. As always, it likely depends on your views of regulation. There are always hiccups when building a new industry from scratch. But stricter regulations here are also why vaping illness was so much more prevalent in the US than Canada. If the US -- or any other country -- is looking for a cannabis market blueprint, they could do a lot worse than Canada’s. This editorial content from the LPC News Team provides analysis, insight, and perspective on current news articles. To read the source article this commentary is based upon, please click on the link below. Click here to view full story at www.winnipegfreepress.com Read the full article

[go-redgirl]

Exclusive — Another New York Times Editor Made Racist, Anti-Semitic Comments

Another high level employee of the New York Times made racist, antisemitic, and disparaging comments on social media.

Jazmine Hughes, an associate editor of the New York Times Magazine, has made a series of racist and antisemitic comments on social media over a multi-year span. A number of the tweets came from Hughes’s personal account, which is associated with her Timesemail, after she was hired by the outlet in April 2015 and continued well into 2017.

Breitbart News has been able to confirm the authenticity of the tweets, which are still visible on Hughes’s page at the time of the publication of this story. While Twitter has not officially verified Hughes’ account, her official New York Times website biography links to the account, confirming it is in fact hers.

Hughes is only the latest Times employee to be exposed for making controversial and racially offensive statements. In recent months the paper has been rocked by multiple instances of such behavior at its top editorial ranks.

WHO is Beth Israel and how does she have so many hospitals??? Like trust fund or lotto ticket or

See Jazmine Hughes's other Tweets

If I'm at the deli and I don't thank the cashier by saying "have a nice day. Even though you white" y'all better call the fuck out

See Jazmine Hughes's other Tweets

The Deadline article is trash. I'm not linking it here because you don't have to read it! Don't waste yr time with nonsense

*a convo in 2100* 1: yo why does Jaz still look so good 2: she stopped paying attention to dumb white people back in 2015! No stress since

See Jazmine Hughes's other Tweets

*a convo in 2100* 1: yo why does Jaz still look so good 2: she stopped paying attention to dumb white people back in 2015! No stress since

Hi, my name is Jazmine Hughes, and my self-care regimen is ignoring white nonsense

See Jazmine Hughes's other Tweets

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See Jazmine Hughes's other Tweets

Every time Viola Davis stunts with her natural hair on TV is one fewer time I have to explain gravity and curls to a dumb white person SOOOO

See Jazmine Hughes's other Tweets

Although most of the tweets center around every day interactions, a few have pointed to political overtones. Hughes appears to have been particularly irate with white people for electing President Donald Trump. Late on election night 2016, shortly after it became clear that Trump had won the presidency, Hughes took to social media to state she had not been so angry at white people since having  learned of Drake and Taylor Swift’s short but ill-fated relationship.

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See Jazmine Hughes's other Tweets

Every time Viola Davis stunts with her natural hair on TV is one fewer time I have to explain gravity and curls to a dumb white person SOOOO

See Jazmine Hughes's other Tweets

Although most of the tweets center around every day interactions, a few have pointed to political overtones. Hughes appears to have been particularly irate with white people for electing President Donald Trump. Late on election night 2016, shortly after it became clear that Trump had won the presidency, Hughes took to social media to state she had not been so angry at white people since having  learned of Drake and Taylor Swift’s short but ill-fated relationship.

The newspaper made a massive investment in the 1619 Project, through which it aimed to redefine America’s understanding of the history of slavery. Hughes was no small part of the newspaper’s work on this, as she was on the byline of one of two major feature pieces on the broadsheet print edition of the special.

“The broadsheet special section has two components: A reported essay by Nikita Stewart, a reporter on The Times’s Metro desk, examining why Americans are so poorly educated on slavery, followed by a history of slavery written by Mary Elliott, curator of American slavery at the Smithsonian’s National Museum of African American History and Culture, and Jazmine Hughes, a writer and editor at The Times Magazine,” the Times wrote about how its 1619 Project feature came together, highlighting the critical role that Hughes played in its publication.

It is unclear if the Times knew of Hughes’s prior controversial tweets before allowing her to undertake a project of such means. Representatives for the paper did not return requests for comment.

The revelation of Hughes’ tweets come shortly after the Times declared it intended to hone in on racial issues leading up to the 2020 presidential race. Those efforts, though, have been severely undercut by multiple revelations concerning the paper’s staff using racist, anti-Semitic, and generally disparaging comments.

Breitbart News reported in August that one of the outlet’s senior news desk editors, Tom Wright-Piersanti, had a history of making anti-Semitic and racist statements on his social media accounts spanning over years. Wright-Piersanti, who helps oversee the paper’s political coverage, apologized for the prior comments, but as of now is still employed by the Times even though the outlet is reportedly “reviewing next steps.”

Two other individuals associated with the outlet, a fact checker Gina Cherelus and a recent addition to its editorial board — Sarah Jeong — have also been exposed for making racist comments. Jeong, in particular, has denigrated white people in the past, comparing them to dogs.

The Times also published a series of antisemitic cartoons in its international print edition earlier this year, which the newspaper later retracted and then admitted were antisemitic. In response, the Times has still not identified the personnel responsible for the publication of the antisemitic cartoons or whether those people have been held accountable–but instead has decided to not publish any more cartoons because it cannot trust its staff to not publish more antisemitism.

All of these incidents and more have amounted to what Breitbart News’ John Nolte has described as a humiliating year for the New York Times, after a summer of public meltdowns and serious institutional mistakes.

READ MORE STORIES ABOUT:

Media 1619 Project 2016 presidential election anti-semitism Donald TrumpJazmine Hughes New York Times Racist Sarah Jeong SlaveryTom Wright-Piersanti

[freifraufischer]

Hello! Can you please link the NYT article again? I guess the link is broken in the ask where you linked and I can't open it. Thanks!

Woman Linked to 1955 Emmett Till Murder Tells Historian Her Claims Were False

For six decades, she has been the silent woman linked to one of the most notorious crimes in the nation’s history, the lynching of Emmett Till, a 14-year-old black boy, keeping her thoughts and memories to herself as millions of strangers idealized or vilified her.

But all these years later, a historian says that the woman has broken her silence, and acknowledged that the most incendiary parts of the story she and others told about Emmett — claims that seem tame today but were more than enough to get a black person killed in Jim Crow-era Mississippi — were false.

The woman, Carolyn Bryant Donham, spoke to Timothy B. Tyson, a Duke University professor — possibly the only interview she has given to a historian or journalist since shortly after the episode — who has written a book, “The Blood of Emmett Till,” to be published next week.

In it, he wrote that she said of her long-ago allegations that Emmett grabbed her and was menacing and sexually crude toward her, “that part is not true.”

The revelations were first reported on Friday by Vanity Fair.

As a matter of narrow justice, it makes little difference; true or not, her claims did not justify any serious penalty, much less death.

The two white men who were accused of murdering Emmett in 1955 — and later admitted it in a Look Magazine interview — were acquitted that year by an all-white, all-male jury, and so could not be retried.

They and others suspected of involvement in the killing died long ago.

But among thousands of lynchings of black people, this one looms large in the country’s tortured racial history, taught in history classes to schoolchildren, and often cited as one of the catalysts for the civil rights movement.

Photographs in Jet Magazine of Emmett’s gruesomely mutilated body — at a funeral that his mother insisted have an open coffin, to show the world what his killers had done — had a galvanizing effect on black America.

The case has refused to fade, revived in a long list of writings and works of art, including, recently, “Writing to Save a Life: The Louis Till File,” a book that unearths the case of Emmett’s father, a soldier who was executed by the Army on charges of murder and rape.

The Justice Department began an investigation into the Emmett Till lynching in 2004, Emmett’s body was exhumed for an autopsy, and the F.B.I. rediscovered the long-missing trial transcript. But in 2007, a grand jury decided not to indict Ms. Donham, or anyone else, as an accomplice in the murder.

“I was hoping that one day she would admit it, so it matters to me that she did, and it gives me some satisfaction,” said Wheeler Parker, 77, a cousin of Emmett’s who lives near Chicago. “It’s important to people understanding how the word of a white person against a black person was law, and a lot of black people lost their lives because of it. It really speaks to history, it shows what black people went through in those days.”

Patrick Weems, project coordinator at the Emmett Till Interpretive Center, a museum in Sumner, Miss., said, “I think until you break the silence, there is still that implied consent to the false narrative set forth in 1955.”

“It matters that she recanted,” he added.

Emmett, who lived in Chicago, was visiting relatives in Money, a tiny hamlet in the Mississippi Delta region when, on Aug. 24, 1955, he went into a store owned by Roy and Carolyn Bryant, a married couple, and had his fateful encounter with Ms. Bryant, then 21.

Four days later, he was kidnapped from his uncle’s house, beaten and tortured beyond recognition, and shot in the head. His body was tied with barbed wire to a cotton gin fan and thrown into the Tallahatchie River.

Roy Bryant and his half brother, J. W. Milam, were arrested and charged with murder.

What happened in that store is unclear, but it has usually been portrayed as an example of a black boy from up North unwittingly defying the strict racial mores of the South at the time. Witnesses said that Emmett wolf-whistled at Ms. Bryant, though even that has been called into doubt.

Days after the arrest, Ms. Bryant told her husband’s lawyer that Emmett had insulted her, but said nothing about physical contact, Dr. Tyson said. Five decades later, she told the F.B.I. that he had touched her hand.

But at the trial, she testified — without the jury present — that Emmett had grabbed her hand, she pulled away, and he followed her behind the counter, clasped her waist, and, using vulgar language, told her that he had been with white women before.

“She said that wasn’t true, but that she honestly doesn’t remember exactly what did happen,” Dr. Tyson said in an interview on Friday.

Ms. Donham, now 82, could not be reached for comment.

Dr. Tyson said that in 2008, he got a call from Ms. Donham’s daughter-in-law, who said they had liked another book of his, and wanted to meet him.

It was in that meeting that she spoke to him about the Till case, saying, “Nothing that boy did could ever justify what happened to him.”

Dr. Tyson said that motivated him to write about the case.

Ms. Donham told him that soon after the killing, her husband’s family hid her away, moving her from place to place for days, to keep her from talking to law enforcement.

She has said that Roy Bryant, whom she later divorced, was physically abusive to her.

“The circumstances under which she told the story were coercive,” Dr. Tyson said. “She’s horrified by it. There’s clearly a great burden of guilt and sorrow.

Devery S. Anderson, author of a 2015 history, “Emmett Till: The Murder That Shocked the World and Propelled the Civil Rights Movement,” said, “I’ve encountered so many people who want someone be punished for the crime, to have anyone still breathing held responsible, and at this point, that’s just her.”

But what matters now, he said, is the truth. It has been clear for decades that she lied in court, he said, “to get it from her own mouth after so many years of silence is important.”

For his part, Mr. Parker, a pastor, said he harbors no ill will toward Ms. Donham, and hopes that her admission brings her peace.

“I can’t hate,” he said. “Hate destroys the hater, too. That’s a heavy burden to carry.”