#28 hours clocked in since yesterday

[7thedisasterdyke]

...

(vent in tags, you can respond if you want)

[catofthecanals289]

all the lights

a maxiel drabble for my beloved @lilyrizzy Happy Birthday, the world is suhc a wonderful place simply for having you in it. I love you so much. (contains medical stuff and mpreg [sort of, it’s complicated])

The answer is no. It was ’no’ twenty minutes ago and it’s still a no now.

Daniel doesn’t want to leave. He is not going to leave, that’s what he told them when they asked for the first time, the second time, but the third –

“Sir,” the nurse or midwife or doctor, Daniel doesn’t know, doesn’t care says, having sat down on the chair next to him. “Surgery will take a bit longer still, you are not missing anything by going up to the unit. But you are missing something by stay here. Please, consider.”

What’s there to consider? Daniel doesn’t ask.

He presses his lips together, tilts his face away, fixing his eyes on a spot on the floor. His leg keeps bouncing, his hands clam and sweaty, grasping each other. His heart hasn’t stopped hammering against his ribs for hours. Not since he woke up to Max’s panicked voice, finding blood between his legs.

Days have passed since that moment, but according to the clock, it’s not even been two hours.

“Sir,” the woman says again, brows drawn together when Daniel glances at her.

“Max’s here. So I’m here,” he says tightly, voice feeling rough, unused.

Has he spoken since they took Max from him? Since they wheeled him into the operating room? Since he called Max’s name, desperate, and Max turned his head, skin pale, eyes wide. He’d opened his mouth but the door had shut before he could.

“And your daughters are upstairs,” the woman pushes.

Daniel –grimacing, eyes squeezed shut- nods. “Yeah, well.”

“They need you.”

“Right.”

He shakes his head, lips pinched together.

“They do.”

“For what?” he looks at her again and he can tell she’s taken aback by his cutting tone, but-

She puts her hand on his shoulder, a small, cautious smile on her lips, eyes almost pleading. “You’re their dad. They need you.”

“I’m- Right, yeah. No. I-” He shakes his head again, leg bouncing, heart racing. He can’t fucking look at her. She must think he’s a terrible person and maybe he is. Maybe he’s been a terrible person throughout this entire pregnancy but- “I need to be here. I need – Max.”

He gestures in the direction of the operating room.

They weren’t ready. This wasn’t supposed to happen. So soon. And not like this.

32 weeks, that was the goal. 32 weeks so the babies would be big enough to not- So they’d be stronger. Their lungs, and- And so much. Daniel listened to the doctors, he swears he’d listened, but- They have a calendar at home at the fridge and just the day before yesterday Daniel crossed off the 28 week mark. They only just-

Max had watched from the bed, directing Daniel, handing him the marker, hand on his bump and he’d told Daniel, when Daniel had counted the weeks that were left and only gotten paler, that everything would be okay. That he was excited to meet them. Their girls. And wasn’t Daniel?

But Daniel is a terrible fucking person and all he wanted, all he wants now, is for Max to be okay.

“We can make a new one,” he’d told Max when they first found out, terrified and confused beyond anything. “We just- Max. Max, c’mon. Please.”

He’d wanted an abortion. They’d told them it was safest. That Max- Max’s body wasn’t made for this. He had the parts, yes and none of them fucking knew until- But his body wasn’t fucking meant to do this. It was dangerous. He could die. None of the do doctors, none, none of the experts and specialist-

But Max had wanted to try, hadn’t wanted to make a new baby through surrogacy, or have one by adoption. He’d wanted this. Their miracle baby, growing inside his body against all odds and logic. And Daniel had nodded and said “okay,” and there were moments where he’d thought he could do this, could be a dad. But he was wrong. He was so fucking wrong. He can’t do any of this. There is still blood on his hands and if Max dies-

“Wouldn’t Max want you to at least go see them?” the woman asks voice even gentler now, and fuck, Daniel has to wipe at his eyes again. “When he gets out of surgery, he’ll want to hear how they are doing.”

“You can tell him,” Daniel croaks, tasting salt on his lips.

He doesn’t know shit anyway. Even if he went to see the girls, he- What does he know? Jack shit. He doesn’t- They don’t even have names yet. They couldn’t decide and now-

“He’ll want to hear it from you,” she insists, and she’s right, but-

“He might fucking die,” he says, trying and failing to smile. “He might not ever hear anything I tell him ever fucking again, so-”

“So all the more reason to,” she cuts him off. “Sir, there really is nothing you can do here right now. But you can do this.”

 He can’t. He really, really can’t. Every step he takes makes him feel more sick. He’s lead through a corridor. A door, another door, another corridor. There are signs and numbers and he can’t read any of them, can’t look at the pictures on the walls a t the people they pass, not that there are many. It’s still- The sun hasn’t even risen yet, it’s not-

“Congratulations, c’mon in,” a woman, smaller than the one before says, kind smile on her lips, paired with her words it feels almost mocking though.

He stares at her and right, they are in front of a door, two names written on colorful cards.

Verstappen 1, Verstappen 2.

“What-” he says, gesturing to the cards.

“Oh, because there weren’t names yet. Or have you picked?” the woman says.

Her name tag ready Hailey, Daniel can’t remember if she told him or when he’s been handed over to her, his head is still spinning and he’s pretty sure he might throw up.

“We- No. We hadn’t- We thought we still had time, I-“

“That’s okay, don’t worry,” she says, offering another smile. “Lots of parents haven’t decided on names yet when it’s baby time. Even if it’s full term pregnancies. Just tell us when you know, yes? Now.” Her smile widens a little. “Would you like to meet your daughters?”

“Just- I need to go back downstairs?” he says, turning to look where- but he doesn’t know. Which direction was he- How is he going to get back? He doesn’t-

There’s the nurses’ station right there, eyes on him, whispers.

“Well, how about we just go in and I introduce you, yeah?” Hailey says, unperturbed. “Now, I need you to take off all jewellery on your arms and hands. Watches, bracelets, rings – that includes wedding rings. Then please wash your hands very thoroughly at the sink and then when your hands are dry disinfect them. This is very important you need to do that every time you come here. No exceptions. We also need to talk quietly. No loud noises in this room please.”

He nods.

She opens the door.

“So, the girls are doing well,” Hailey says, as they walk up to the first of the – the incubators. The lights are dim in the room, but there’s still some sort of blanket over it, but she removes it and then- “This is number 1. She and her sister both need some help breathing still, which is to be expected at 28 weeks. They are also very small for their gestational age, which we assume is due to the conditions, which- Well.”

She smiles, a little awkward now.

The conditions. She means Max’s womb. Max’s hormonal situation. The way the placenta attached, how it couldn’t- Max wasn’t made for this. Or not- Only sort of. Just- It wasn’t ideal. Not for Max or the babies. Just a fucking fuck up from nature and now Daniel is a father and so is Max but Max might die and there is a tiny little creature lying in a plastic box in front of him, stuff strapped to its little face, frail, twig like limbs tucked in close to its body, chest rising and falling so quickly, wires everywhere and-

“So she’s got 725 grams, and her sister is at 680 grams, which-”

“I don’t know what that means, I don’t-” He shakes his head, throat tight, stomach twisting.  

She’s- His- Their girl. She’s- She’s so fucking small, he doesn’t-

“Oh, 25.57 ounces,” Hailey explains. “That’s her. And our little lady over there, she’s got 23.98.”

“That’s-”Again he shakes his head, having to turn around. “That’s too small. That’s not- No. That’s-”

“That is very small, yes,” Hailey allows. “But, sir. Right now they are doing well and we are monitoring them. “They get some help breathing, but thanks to the RDS prophylaxis your- The mo- Your partner received their lungs are doing pretty well. The girls are both breathing on their own. They received surfactant already. No brain bleeds so far, and-”

“Okay, yeah, I- I gotta go back downstairs,” Daniel cuts in. “I’ve got to- Max- My partner, he is still in surgery, so.”

“Oh.” She blinks. “Oh, sure, yes, but, if you- Well, it would be so incredibly beneficial for your babies to get skin to skin contact? It’s- We call it kangaroo care and-”

Daniel laughs, he can’t help it. It’s a shrill, crazy little sound  and before Hailey can say anything there’s a cry.

A tiny, barely there, barely audible cry, coming from behind Daniel. Coming from  - her.

She-

Daniel turns around and there she is, her little miniature face twisted into a grimace, little mouth quivering and the sound she makes- IT shatters his heart-

“Oh, no, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, love,” he whispers quickly, desperately, hands flying, helpless in front of the plastic wall. “I’m- Shit. What-  Just- Because I’m Australian, I was-”

He looks at Hailey, terrified. She needs to do something, she needs- His little girl is crying. She’s crying and she’s just so small.

“It’s okay, you just startled her,” Hailey says softly. “The loud noise. It’s okay. We’ll just- You know she is still adapting. She’s not- We always say they need a little bit, to truly arrive, you know? To the world? Everything is so much for them. The noise, the light, everything. So we try our best to shield them, but positive stimulation is just as important as shielding them from negative one. And part of that is skin to skin. It’s- She needs you, sir. They both do.”

She’s still crying. It’s a pitiful little sound, not like the baby cries Daniel remembers form Isaac or Izzy or Leo.

“But Max-”

“Labor and delivery will call us,” Hailey says. “They’ll inform us and we’ll inform you. I promise. Now, please. It’s really, really so important for your babies. ”

 She tells him to take off his shirt. She puts him in a chair that reminds Daniel of a sun lounger except he’s not getting a tan. His heart is beating out of his chest. He’s lying there shirtless and terrified and Hailey and another nurse who introduced herself as Abby hand him tubes and wires and then- then There’s first one baby on his chest and then another. Two tiny little creatures. They tell him to hold him. Put his hands on their backs as they sort out the wires and tubes and everything and his fucking- One of his finger is bigger and longer than each of their legs and their hands-

“Are they- Is this-” This can’t be right. This can’t be- They are too small for him to hold, to lie on his chest and be covered by towels. They fucking- There’s a heating lamp, they need- “Shouldn’t they go back in the boxes?”

„The incubators?“ Abby asks, frowning. “Oh, no, not his is best for them. Skin to skin. With mom. Or dad. It’s the best for them really. Helps them stabilize their temperature and heartrate, breathing, everything.”

“Yeah, but-”

Daniel feels so helpless, useless. He’s just- He’s nothing, no one. He just- They don’t even know him. They grew inside Max, they know him, his heartbeat, his voice, Daniel just-

“They know your voice too,” Hailey says, almost like she’s read his mind. “So you can talk to them quietly. Sooth them if they need it.”

But they don’t. They are both quiet now. Both just there where the nurses put them on Daniel’s chest, bellies down, heads tilted towards each other, little hands on Daniel’s skin, it’s- It might be the most surreal thing Daniel has ever experienced. Three hours ago it was just him and Max in bed together and now he’s alone in a hospital room with their daughters and Max-

“Can you call?” he asks, keeping his voice low, despite its tremble. “Down to- Ask how he’s doing? Max? He-”

“Of course.”

 Two hours pass before the door opens again and it’s not just Hailey or Abby, but both of them as well as two other people in scrubs and a bed. A bed with Max inside and a number of things attached. IV pumps and stuff, Daniel thinks, but he has no eyes for any of that. Just Max. Max who seems to barely be able to tilt his head, looking around, looking for-

“Max,” Daniel croaks and on his chest one of the babies splays her fingers, almost making him choke up again. “Maxy, hey. Hi. How-”

“I’m okay,” Max croaks, voice hoarse and barely there, probably because of the tube they had shoved down his throat for surgery.

“He lost a lot of blood,” someone Daniel doesn’t know says. “And we are admitting him to the ICU so this is just for ten minutes tops, I’m sorry, but-”

“Let’s just sort this,” Hailey cuts in, smile on her face.

There’s a flurry of motion then, pushing around of equipment, adjusting tubes, wires, everything and it seems like a whole lot of work but Daniel doesn’t care because by the end of it they have somehow managed to fit Max’s bed next to the chair Daniel is in, the tubes of baby 2 sort of half under Max’s pillow who looks even paler than before, exhausted and only half awake.

“Hi,” he says, and his hand-

“I can’t,” Daniel whispers. It kills him not to reach out, not to take Max’s hand, but. “I got-”

“Oh,” May blinks and then Abby leans over pulling back the towels a bit so Max can see the girls. “They are so little.”

“Yeah.” Daniel nods, but he manages half a smile, tears gathering in his eyes again. “They are. and they’d really like names, I think. And meet their papa.”

“Oh,” Max says again. “Hi, babies. It is your papa.”

[awxcoffeexno]

selfish

bf!joel x reader

fic masterlist summary: joel has work. and you miss him.

warnings: angst, so much angst!!!, plenty of pining, both characters are stubborn, there is 0 communication, if only they would just talk to each other!!, but obviously not, why would they do that?, also reader is pregnant (no use of y/n, no outbreak, mild age gap (reader is 23, joel is 28))

word count: just under 1.2k

a/n: this is my first fic on here and idek why i've written this but i'm pining so,, T.T

it's fifteen minutes past 8 and joel is still tapping away on his keyboard, brows furrowed, lower lip between his teeth.

you've only peeked into the room to see if he's finally done, but he isn't. so you walk back out to the living room and pick up the new copy of notes from underground that you bought at the old book shop yesterday.

you'd wanted him to come with you, even told him it would be lovely to have him. but whilst the whole country took the day off for a holiday you don't particularly celebrate, joel was still in your room, still tapping away at his keyboard. with a soft sigh, you had pressed a kiss to his forehead and he'd given you a sheepish smile. I'm sure you'll love it, baby. send me loads of pictures.

so alone you'd gone, sifting through the piles and piles of unsorted books, hoping to find something nice. you'd picked up a small, tattered book about duties of couples in marriage. a wedding present signed off by a distant uncle. giggled at the silly pictures and then put it aside. more unsorted books, several copies of jane eyre, pride and prejudice, a tale of two cities (🤢 you couldn't imagine ever picking that up again, what a terrible piece of prose).

until finally, a copy of notes from underground. fyodor dostoyevsky. you'd always wanted to read dostoyevsky but you'd never considered yourself having enough time or patience for him. deep breath. no better time than the present.

so here you are, curled up in the little nook next to the fire place where only you would think to sit. it's a tight spot but you like it. it's warm and comforting and since you don't have joel's arms, the brick wall will have to do. besides you’ve got olives and vanilla ice cream to keep your cravings at bay so at least there’s that.

you'd spent your day finally getting back to the painting you'd forgotten in the back of the attic last month, followed by work on your dissertation, glancing at your phone every now and then. no messages from joel. so you'd given him a missed call like you always did to catch his attention. 

joel.

hi, baby, need a sec. brb.

and you'd given him a second. ten minutes. twenty. you knew you were being needy but before this god forsaken job you'd spent every day together, curled up in each other. you'd help each other with your assignments, him pressing absent-minded kisses to your shoulders as he flipped through his architecture textbook.

nearly an hour later he'd texted you back. 

hi. sorry. got carried away.

no, it's okay. how are you?

and he'd gone on a rant about work. and you'd listened. and then he was gone again.

even when he came back home, all you'd gotten was a squeeze on the arm, a kiss on the forehead and a meeting, baby. 

you'd wanted to scream. but how selfish would that be? he was working. besides your dissertation was waiting for you, the cursor blinking, jeering at you for leaving it mid word.

and now it is nearly two hours later. you've both eaten dinner in separate rooms and you're reading dostoyevsky.

dostoyevsky. 

the clock is mocking you. tick, tock. 

tick, tock.

tick, tock, you pathetic little bitch. he is working.

tick, tock, look at you! my god. he is working!

tick, tock.

"joel?"

nothing.

"joel!"

"hmm?"

"I'm bored."

he lets out a soft tired chuckle that makes your heart warm. "want me to come dance for you?"

idiot. you tell him as much. 

you get up and tip toe to your room again. "hi."

"hi, sweetheart." his hair is soft and fluffy. you push your fingers through it, watching his eyes flutter shut.

you press a soft kiss to his lips. he smiles.

"do you have any time today?" you ask him, leaning back on your hands.

you really are pathetic. but you miss it. you miss having him all to yourself every night. you miss pressing soft kisses into his jaw without having to worry about his brows furrowing and him apologising because work was demanding his attention. you miss how he'd rub the anxiety away from your chest. didn't matter what the anxiety was about, he'd always take it away from you. and now he can't, because he's always anxious himself. about work. about you. about the baby you had on the way - the baby he was working so hard for.

and you want to be selfish. you want to tell him where it hurts. sometimes you do and you see his guilty little eyes as he looks over at you and tries to take it away. but it doesn't go away anymore. and he feels so fucking guilty about it. and you only add to his stress, and then you're feeling guilty too and it's not good for either of you.

"I'll be free in a bit, sugar. I'll be off at 10. I hope."

but that's not what you want. because once he's off at 10, he'll be tired. and he should rest.

but you're selfish. 

so. "no, like. do you have any time today for me?" you rephrase and watch as his shoulders slack and his eyes darken.

look how sad you've made him. 

"yeah. after 10." he's blunt. cold.

and that's because you know he wants to rest. and he knows he wants to rest. and you've just been selfish again and fuck, he's getting so tired. tired of constantly being pushed to show up. to be there. for work. for you. 

you’d celebrated this job with him, hadn’t you?! made him a little cake and blown up balloons. it was a good job. hard work but it paid so fucking well. the two of you had planned this baby for so long. he’d taken up a diploma so that he wouldn’t have to support you on the wages of a contractor whilst you worked on your masters. but hindsight is 20/20 and you’d much rather have a small house and a tight budget and still have joel than sit in the living room alone, day after day as he worked his ass off trying to do what’s right what any man with self-respect would do.

tears sting your eyes. you miss him. and you're so fucking pathetic, making all of this about you. he notices but doesn't comment because he's done. he's done consoling you about something he is going through too.

but you're selfish. so you stand up and walk out and he's left staring at the ghost of your perfume wondering when something will finally let up. when something will give. when you'll just understand and let him be.

until then he knows that this cycle will repeat every day. because you're selfish. 

not that he'd ever think that. because he's joel and fuck he loves you. 

but you know it. and your clock knows it.

you're selfish. 

--

if you're reading this, thank youu xx maybe I'll write some more. idk, but I hoped you liked it. <3

just migrated from reddit back to tumblr and I didn't realise how much I missed tumblr aaaaaaa

love, d 🖤

[ronnie-ratke]

Came on here to vent because I’m about to go end it all. It’s gonna be long one if you can read please do

Life has recently been one horrible monstrosity after another. I have three bottle baby lambs I’ve been taking care of around the clock for two months and they have been my biggest reason for living. They need me and I need them. No one else in my family can care for them and I live alone anyway so I’m the only one here 24/7 to care for them. Well one of them had been at the top livestock hospital for 28 days fighting off sepsis in his bones after an umbilical infection. He has just finally come home 12 days ago after being on the edge of life for so long. Then my blind lamb that I have formed an irreplaceable connection with went in for emergency bladder stone surgery, he had a bad blockage and hours left to live if he didn’t get the surgery. He has defied all odds for two months straight being born completely blind with only one physical eye which as I said is blind. I spent about 20 hours a day working with him to help him learn to how survive, get around and eat. Yesterday we got really good news that he was able to pass urine again and he was well on his way to coming home next week. Well this morning they called and said it looks like his urethra ruptured when they were doing the second test to make sure he could pass urine. This is a terminal injury if it’s not right on the tip of it. They are doing an x ray ASAP today to see where it is but there’s like a 95% chance he’s going to have to be put down.

He might “just be a lamb” but to me he was no different than a dog. He was my whole reason for living. I don’t know what to do anymore. I’m completely alone and I’m just done. I’m done with everything. I can’t keep pushing through when life obviously doesn’t want me to. I’m done trying and hoping that “things get better” because they don’t. Nothing gets better. I’ve known this since I was 12 years old but I’m over it now. I texted my boyfriend who’s still asleep that I love him and I’m sorry and my mom and I spoke on the phone. All that I’m waiting on is the final call on the results of the x ray. After that I’ll know what I’m going to do.

Pictures of my baby because he deserves to be seen.

[void-galaxy-shenanigans]

So I did an important, but with some frustrating strings attached and at a financial cost.

I asked for accommodations at work.

It is day six. I am brand new. But I guess I’ve made enough of a good impression because they were willing to ask questions and discuss.

We have sensory processing disorder (auDHD). They used to play music on a Bluetooth speaker, but since then they now don’t let us have music after we open (10:45a).

So the day before yesterday I decided fuck it and had an earbud in the whole shift. It made me functional, kept us grounded, and actually made me faster and more effective. No major burns, only dropped one thing instead of multiple...overall a better shift.

The shift lead that day just...didn’t care, because I was working & I was getting faster & more effective as the day went on.

I came in to work today already overstimmed, so I used an earbud again.

(I intentionally used an earbud in our right ear, which has about 10% hearing remaining after trauma (both blasted music and physical-harm trauma). I can’t really hear out of it anyway. And these are entirely wireless (Bluetooth), small earbuds, so not super obvious and customers won’t notice (and didn’t notice yesterday). It’s not a matter of the earbud being too obvious or physically dangerous.)

But this shift lead told me to take my earbud out, and that I wasn’t allowed to have music due to safety concerns.

I work in a kitchen on a hot grill, and need to hear safety announcements (hot, cold, corner, behind you, etc.) as well as line alerts (for food when they run low/out). I understand that I need to hear that, & it could be a safety concern for some people. But I noticed yesterday I heard them better and processed way easier with music. So I protested, told her I worked better with it, but she kept arguing & telling me to take it out.

I pulled her into the back so I could hear better (quieter) and think/talk easier, and explained that it’s for a disability (not ‘just because’), and that when I had it yesterday, music made me way more effective and faster—and also able to process better what people said to me, which improves my safety. I also admitted I was already overstimmed and don’t think I can work today without it.

She said they don’t allow earbuds/headphones due to safety concerns, but also said she’d talk to higher-up managers (inbetween/corporate) about making an exception, which...is more than I expected after having to argue for 10mins.

She checked the handbook but it said nothing, so she told me to sit out in the lobby and that she’d let our lower tier/closest corporate person call her back to discuss more. Luckily she didn’t make me clock out at this point, so I just sat down to wait.

15mins later she came back and said that the higher ups talked to their disability advocate (¿they have one??) and agreed to send me the paperwork to accommodate music on the line.

But that also means I was sent home and I can’t work the rest of this week...cutting me down to 13½ hours instead of 28¾, making this paycheck around 31½ hours instead of 47 total (I don’t get a full 2 week paycheck yet because pay period is next Friday and I just started). That cuts my paycheck by ~$250, when I’m already struggling to get by and desperately need to replace multiple things, feed myself, and feed my cat...and pay rent too.

I’ll give them a little credit: this is fast food, and this is the first job who even escalated questions and decided to send me paperwork to allow an accommodation, let alone on day 6.

But I am so stressed about the money loss and the process of getting this done.

However,,, this is also the first time I got the courage to ask for an exception/accommodation of any kind. Normally I let myself suffer and let my performance tank until they inevitably fire me or cut my hours to make me quit. So I did a good this time. It just...sucks that it basically has consequences. I’m not allowed to work until the paperwork is filed and approved.

This is all a part of the journey I guess. I finally have the self-respect to ask. But that also means waiting to be sent paperwork and to hear back whether they’re gonna make an exception or not (AKA whether I’m gonna collapse out of this job in 3 to 6 months or not, because this accommodation would make or break my ability to sustain/maintain working fast food again).

I am disabled. This body is disabled. I can’t really accommodate the physical disabilities as well (struggling to stand for long periods of time / chronic pain), but if I can at least accommodate the mental ones...that’s something.

(before anyone asks, explicitly stating these— referenced & implied disabilities here: D.I.D., ADHD + bipolar, autism, sensory processing disorder, POTS, & chronic pain // disabilities I’m asking for accommodations for: ADHD/autism (sensory processing delays/overstim), & probably also PTSD because I already had to tell them yesterday about that (not sure about D.I.D. yet; bipolar is medicated; physical stuff is nigh impossible in fast food).)

(I won’t/can’t say which corporation I now work for; I don’t want to get in trouble for posting about them on social media or have them accuse me of acting as a spokesperson when I’m not. Too risky.)

~Nico

[zoeology31]

*emerges from today's game covered in blood* Series win, never a doubt!

Nice to see the team get their hitting mojo back late last night and today after that disaster of an offensive hangover the first two games in Pittsburgh. Across the past two series, the Twins have scored 37 runs, allowed 26, and finished 3-3. Baseball!

Pretty solid turn through the rotation after the guys got knocked around in Houston and New York. Ryan looked great, SWR threw 96+ (!?!?!?), Paddack threw 97+ (feat. velo whisperer Cole Sands), and Louie held his own in the spot start. Bullpen has been solid too, with one uh. notable exception.

Thielbar's comeback was such a great story and he's been a fantastic pitcher for us in this current era, and talking about his season feels like sending a beloved pet to the farm upstate, but man. I think this is it. He just doesn't have it anymore, and these last two days have been absolutely brutal to watch.

The offense really picked him up today though, and almost did so yesterday, which has been a wild swing over the course of the week. Lewis is the franchise, Miranda, Margot, and Santana have all been on a tear lately, even Farmer and Vazquez have put up solid June numbers. Also special shoutout to Correa, who's hitting over .500 since porching one in Yankee Stadium last week, capped off with his first career 5-hit game today! That combined with his characteristic stellar defense (error today notwithstanding) and damn, it's always great to have him on the team. He's playing like he saw that poll from The Athletic and/or the Neal tweet lmao.

Let's go back to the score from today, because. 17-9??? Every Twin in the starting lineup reached at least twice, five had at least three hits, and the team combined for 24 hits, their most since 2017 (team record 28). Ten players had an RBI and the team was 11-for-17 with RISP. The combined score ties last year's Cleveland blowout, a game in which position players pitched five half-innings. Everyone's making football score jokes. And it wasn't even at Coors Field! Absolutely wild times.

(Also the game was under 4 hours with a 37-minute rain delay in the middle, in this house we love the pitch clock.)

Nice long early-summer homestand, with the City Connects on-field debut and the annual Pride Day lined up for this weekend. It's a great time to get out to the ballpark and enjoy some baseball, so let's keep it rolling.

[jodilin65]

FRIDAY, APRIL 30, 1999 Will the new noisemakers be here tomorrow? After the city leaves at 4:00, I’ll look over the wall and see if the stuff’s still there and if the grass is mowed. That should be a sign in itself. When I went to hang a few things on the line just now, I could hear soft music coming from over there. Just what have they been doing for eight hours a day for these past two weeks?

I just hope my vibes are right about us moving in July or early August, cuz getting the house up for sale by mid-May is just a dream. I knew he was full of shit when he said the house would be ready to put on the market by then. He’s much too intelligent to be giving off-the-wall time frames like he’s done a lot in the past, and it makes me wonder if he likes don’t that.

He called that realtor, who was with customers, to find out what land was available and where, but he never returned the call. People seem to be doing that a lot lately; not returning calls.

I wonder if the guy with the braids doll will return Tom’s email. Tom told him we haven’t gotten the doll, but I’ll bet you anything that if he does reply, he’ll say it’s been sent. This guy has sold over 200 items and has a good rep with the auction. Tom says he thinks he’s procrastinating, but I think it’s the mailman. That’s two packages he’s given away and I’m really fed up with him! I want to kick his ass so bad! Ironically enough, the two packages I never got had dolls involved. So, it’s a combination of my being hexed in the doll department, and having a mailman who likes to give our mail away. I’ve already resigned myself to the fact that I’ll never have this braids doll any more than I’ll ever have pictures from Paula. I just hope we can get our money back on this doll.

Andy left a message yesterday. It was a quick one, cuz he was expecting a couple of co-workers to visit. I thought he wasn’t mixing business with pleasure, but I guess not. He said he’s got all his bills paid. That’s good.

I’m halfway done reading Black Ice, then I’ll read Amy Girl.

Yesterday and the day before, I spent a lot of time on the web getting back the Gloria pictures I lost. I also got a Gloria theme and it sucked, so I made it better. They used a few icons with her picture. Their colors sucked, so I chose my own. The only thing I really like about it is the music clips, although they should’ve put more on and more variety of songs, too. They’ve got two clips from Anything for You. I went and made my own picture icons, but they didn’t look too good cuz of the way my wallpaper picture colors would get into them. Then they started doing weird things on me and changing into bizarre things. Maybe I’ll try again today.

Later…

Fell asleep for an hour cuz I had to take Benadryl. Had the typical allergy attack I get every 2-3 weeks. It looks like it isn’t over either, since I just started sneezing again. These things go on all day and I usually can’t stop it till the next day. I may go for 20-30 minute periods without sneezing, but on days I have these attacks, I sneeze all day on and off. I don’t have an attack for just a part of a day, although I wish that were the case if I had to have them at all! God doesn’t recognize hard work when he sees it. I dust, vacuum, and quit smoking, only to keep on having allergy trouble. Maybe he’ll care enough to help me help myself someday, but I won’t count on it.

It’s just about May now, but we’ve barely scratched the surface of our list of prep jobs. Tom is out there putting flashing on the patio, so that’s another step in the right direction.

My vibes say next door will be empty again this weekend, but we’ll see what my logic says after I do a spy check after they leave today.

Tom fixed the bird clock. I didn’t think to check it myself, but when he did he saw that the part that makes the birds chirp uses two separate batteries from the one battery that keeps time. The “chirping” batteries were dead.

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 28, 1999 Due to having major computer problems, I haven’t written in a few days.

First, Patch died yesterday, so now I just have Katie and Ashley. I could’ve sworn I saw Katie fucking Ashley, though, which makes no sense at all. Even if Katie was a male, they should be well on their second batch by now. It’s too late to not have produced any babies since they only carry litters for three weeks.

Tom has an anti-virus thing installed on his computer. He never bothered to put one in mine, cuz I hardly ever download anything. We suspect that the new screensavers we recently got had a virus in them that infected my computer. One day my computer just wouldn’t boot up. I ended up losing so much. I lost some of the Gloria pictures I downloaded not too long ago, the superimposed pictures I made, the pictures I put pretty backgrounds on, all the family pictures, doll pictures, and some pet pictures, my cardfiles, and more. Tom says he’s really sorry he didn’t back me up more often. Yeah, me too, but now I’ve set things up so that I can’t lose much, if anything at all, the next time something like this happens. Fortunately, though, I didn’t lose any journal stuff. I lost four pages from Andy’s file, but I was able to rebuild that by copying/pasting excerpts from my journal just like I would for the freeloaders.

Since my weight hasn’t fluctuated much in the last several months, I quit doing a weight file, then I condensed things. I rebuilt my dolls and pets files in my word processor so I can back things up more easily. I pretty much went back to basics. The main reason I got into computers in the first place was to do journals and write letters. Not sit and look at pictures. My picture days are over. If I want a picture, I’ll print it out. That way it can’t get lost so easily.

Aside from AOL, a few games I like, some empty files I use for letters, and my journals, I have my journal chart, the grocery list, an index of subjects I once began, phone numbers, lyrics, edits, and pet and doll info all backed up onto one floppy. So, from now on, all that should matter is that I keep my journal stuff backed up regularly. Yesterday, I figured out how to restore floppies for the first time in my life. It was only January 9th, as far as the computer was concerned, cuz that was when we last backed up on CDs, so I had to restore the journal stuff from then on up till now. Every time I get a page worth of Andy’s stuff, I’ll print it out.

Got my period. It started yesterday. Will I get those mid-cycle pains for the 4th month in a row in two weeks? Anyway, even if it’s dryer when he doesn’t get off, the good thing about when he does get off is that I know it’ll be many months before he does it again. Also, if he cums at the wrong time of month, it’s the wrong time of month for me. If he cums at the right time of month, it’s the wrong time of month for me. I still trust him to be smart enough not to go squirting at the right time, and for God to take care of destiny even if he does.

I had been worried that it’d be a bitch to peel off stickers and contact paper from shelves/doors, but Tom got this really cool thing that sands it right off. It’ll even sand the paint off too, in no time at all. It’s a chalky, rough pumice-like thing. It makes a mess, but it works.

I moved Velvet into the aquarium that’ll be his home when we move. He seems content enough in it. Especially since he’s such a lazy pig who just sits there. I put him right next to the mice and I think he likes being able to see them. Makes him feel less alone, I guess.

I also put Bailey back in the living room, cuz the room just looks so boring without a doll in it. The rest are still in boxes, but not Mary, Giselle, Maria, or Rapunzel. I don’t have suitable boxes for them, but that’s fine. They can ride in the backseat of the car wrapped in towels.

It looks like I’ll be keeping Giselle #2 which I’ll rename Liselle to go with her twin Giselle. Giselle and Liselle. I’ll leave her in her box till we move, of course, and then I’ll do different things to make her look somewhat different than her twin.

I was right, so far, when I said I’d only get two or three out of the four dolls I got from eBay (the auction), so Tom will email the guy tonight so we can get our money back. That’s two packages of mine the mailman didn’t give me this month.

I got that form for that art test. I did a good job considering that I haven’t drawn in about a year. They asked a few questions - age, marital status, why you like art. Then you draw a copy of a couple of cartoon heads and dress up an outline of a house. If the mailman lets me have it, I should receive a score and evaluation on it. Tom said I did a great job and that he’s looking forward to hearing what my options are on it. I don’t know. This is a fun experiment, but I’m sure that they tell everyone their work is good. Even if I’d scribbled, I’m sure I’d get an encouraging reply about it with a high score attached. They want to entice anyone they can into their training program.

Later…

The city van’s not here yet. Usually, he’s here from 8:30-4:00, with an hour and a half off for lunch. Just three more days till the freeloader animals get over there. There may be no basketball games, but there’ll be music, car doors, loudmouths, and maybe even a dog or two to go with it. Thank God we’ll be getting out of here soon enough.

I realized a reason I don’t want to be with Andy in his car again. I may’ve been lucky enough not to go down with him for years, but I’m reluctant to push my luck any further. Very reluctant. Even he says he doesn’t want to take certain risks, like having furniture stick out of his trunk, cuz he’s not insured. That doesn’t mean he still doesn’t have weed on him when he drives around. To think that I could’ve gone down with him those many times I’d ride in his car with him in the past is a bit scary. I can’t afford to push my luck nowadays. I’m not some poor, young, cute girl with connections any more. I’m a married, middle-aged woman with a decent income. I can’t afford to go down with him now that my life is what it is. I just don’t want losers or druggies for friends. Period. Out of the very few things Andy has an interest in, he knows his stuff well, and there is some good to Andy, but if I’ve said it once, I’ll say it a million times - I’ve outgrown Andy. I’m not going down for some waste product who doesn’t give a shit about life. Who only cares about himself. If he wants to be a dope case that hangs with the wrong people and that sits on his ass day in and day out with a phone in one hand and a joint in the other - let him. Let him stuff his face and ruin his life at his own expense. I’m not taking any more risks. Period.

Here’s something that’s pretty amazing. By 4:00 yesterday, there had been only one sales call. I don’t know what calls came later, though, cuz I went to bed around then.

Later…

The city van’s here. An hour later today.

Later…

Now there are two city vans.

Later…

We’re back down to one van. Just what in the world are they doing over there, hour after hour, day after day? What did those freeloaders do over there?

Anyway, Tom was in for about a half hour. He put in a sell order to cash in some stock if it hit 76 points, but it hasn’t so far. He’s gone now to the eye doctor. I’ll be calling in an order for pork-fried rice at noon which he’ll pick up.

If there’s one thing, and one thing only, that I’m glad is gone, it’s the cardfile. I inserted a table with rows and columns of blocks for keeping track of pet and doll info and it looks much better this way.

SUNDAY, APRIL 25, 1999 No one moved in yesterday, and there were signs saying that no one would move in this weekend that we didn’t see or think of right away. The grass isn’t mowed, the recycle bin’s out, and they still haven’t picked up the shit I threw in the backyard I couldn’t believe it!

The only activity that I know of that went on over there yesterday, was this car that pulled deep into the carport. A fat lady and a little boy got out of the car and they went straight to the back. The first thing I thought was that the pregnant kid’s mother came over with one of the kid’s kids, and they were getting the dog set up in back, but nope. They were only here a few minutes, too. Maybe they went to get something I threw over.

Then Tom went up on the roof to read some numbers off the side of the cooler, and to spy, and that’s when I totally regretted throwing things over there! Mr. Paranoid saw the shit over there and lectured me for a good hour or so on why I shouldn’t do things like that and why it’s important that he be paranoid and cautious in life. I’m very very sorry to have upset him, and now I’ll be just as paranoid and cautious just so I can spare him from having to get all worried again. I’ll never again do anything remotely like that.

Also, there’s no way I’m gonna tell him about the hoop when we move. He’d be a basket case of nerves over it and he doesn’t need it if I can spare him from it. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Not even after ten years will I tell him about the hoop, cuz even then he’ll probably worry that something bad may come of it.

Meanwhile, I’m going to finish enjoying this weekend with next door empty. It’s to be our last weekend here with it empty.

Later…

Tom fixed the stereo in seconds yesterday. All that was keeping it from playing CDs was a loose wire.

I went around and counted cracked outlets and light switches for him so he can pick up new ones to replace them when he gets other things we need. It’s gonna cost $500 to put the fence around the pool! But it’s the law.

SATURDAY, APRIL 24, 1999 I have so much to write about! Let me start with the bad news, then I’ll get to the good news. I saw what’s probably going to be the new scum that’s gonna be next to us either this weekend or sometime during next week for sure. We’ve gone from Mormons to blacks to Mexicans. I am so sick of them! I’m so sick of having to be the one stuck next to lazy, rude, selfish kids with kids. At 9:45 on Thursday, the city van came back, and shortly after, at 10:00, a nice blue/gray van pulled in. Too nice for someone who’s supposed to be poor and in need of subsidized housing. Anyway, out hopped a pregnant woman with two little kids and with what appeared to be her mother. A little later, the city van and the asshole's van left. At 12:30, the pregnant kid returned with two guys. She and the guys couldn’t have been over 18 and they all looked like total scum. Totally. One of the guys had a T-shirt on that said: Don’t ask me 4 shit. I was thinking to myself, don’t worry. I’m not gonna bother wasting my time, guy. I’m gonna have the city deal with you.

At 1:00, the van came back. I saw that same gray-haired guy step out topless and pull a door out of the back of the van, and a paint roller.

I hate these loud-mouthed Mexicans! Although they didn’t seem to be that loud for being Mexican. Not as loud as that black bitch was. She sounded like a mad bull butch. Anyway, I’m just so sick of these lazy people who have one kid, jump on welfare, then keep popping kids so they can avoid having to work. Meanwhile, it’s people like us who struggle to earn a living that has to foot their bills with our tax dollars, and I’m sick of it. Fucking sick of it! They couldn’t wait to have kids. They just had to run out and have them before they were ready and on stable ground financially. They probably made a contest out of which would come first - their diploma or the kids, although I doubt Miss Mex went all the way through high school.

I could’ve sworn I heard one of them mention us having a pool, so they were probably peaking in our yard. I hope Tom doesn’t leave anything of value out there.

Tom says I’m pretty bigoted. Well, if they don’t force their lives on me then I won’t be. If they let me sleep and don’t constantly invade my home with their noise, they can be whatever color/race they happen to be. It’s not the color or race I’m against so much as the ways of lazy people like this. I’ve lived in two projects. I know how most of them are. Not all, but most. It’s rude, selfish assholes I’m against. Not blacks or Mexicans, although I use those words as a way to vent. I’d do that with a white person I disliked, too. It may be wrong, but within my own journals, I think I should be able to say whatever I please. I’ll be damned if I’ll watch what I say in my journal. I could’ve lowered myself to that bitch’s level and called her a N after she stormed off calling me a ho, but I didn’t. The issue wasn’t about her black skin. The issue was about her and her associates harassing me with noise.

Now for the good news. I saw the city van pull in yesterday at the usual time of 8:30. This time, the gray-haired guy was with that black guy again. The black guy got out and took hold of the lock on the hoop just like one of the black boys had done. Then I stepped out and asked if the place was gonna be rented to the people that came yesterday. He said not for sure. They had just come to look at the place. I don’t buy it, though. I think it is gonna be them living there, but can they have that nice van? I thought Tom said subsidized housing was for the working poor, but there’s no way this Mexie’s gonna be working. Not with kid number three on the way by August at the latest. So, if she can stay home and have a van like that, she can have a dog too, right?

I asked when the new people would be in. He said when they were done fixing the place up.

Anyway, I asked if they could do me the favor of taking the hoop down cuz kids were coming around in the middle of the night playing ball. This is BS, of course, but I figured that’d get me further than saying that I just didn’t want to listen to the new kids, or their kids, thump balls just outside my window all day long. So, the guy got up and took it down!!! With my luck, though, the new scum will be bouncing balls up and down the driveway, anyway. I’m still thrilled to see this thing go, and I wish I’d done this in between the Mormons and the blacks. Better later than never, I guess, even though Tom says we can have the house up for sale as soon as May 15th. I just hope we can sell it privately, although $65,000-$75,000 is a lot of cash to come up with.

Anyway, I’ve opted to wait till after we move before telling Tom that I asked that the hoop be taken down, cuz he can get more paranoid than Andy at times. He’ll fear trouble will come from it, but I know that even if the city suspects I’m the one who locked the hoop, they can’t prove it, and I don’t think they’d bother with such petty shit anyway. They should have better things to do with their time. Tom, though, may fear we’ll have to go to court on vandalism charges.

We saw the hoop sitting just inside the carport on our way out at around 10:00 and I feared they’d put the hoop back up as soon as the lazies moved in, but Tom said he didn’t think they would. He was the one to be right, fortunately. He said he saw a pickup haul it away. Good riddance!!

On our way back, we saw an APS truck. That means they could be moving in this weekend, but more than likely, they’ll be in next week. I’ll have to see if they replaced the security light yet when I listen to music. I’ll go do that now, then write about our little outing yesterday.

Later…

The security light hasn’t been replaced yet, but I’ve been compensated for getting rid of the hoop with a dead stereo. I was listening to CDs and everything was just fine, but then it quit playing anything. It goes from disk to disk, then stops as if it had no CDs loaded in its carousel. Great timing. Just what we need to be dealing with now. I might not tell Tom about it till after we move and I may just listen to tapes till then.

We went to Wal-Mart yesterday and he got a couple of pairs of shorts. I got a bright pink cotton pair of shorts and two satin pairs in black and royal blue. Their sundresses were boring. I got a pair of denim shorts, two white bras, and two shiny pairs of panties. One’s gold and white checkered, the other’s magenta and black.

The only problem with the shorts is that because I’m so thick-waisted, in order to get a comfortable fit around the waist, the rest is too big and baggy. In order to get the shorts to fit well, I have to get a tight waist. So I took the good fit with the tight waist and am now stretching the waists on chair backs.

Then we went to the bookstore, got Jack-n-the-Box, and came home. Not right away, though, cuz some stupid shit had to hold us up by parking in a way that we couldn’t get by them till they decided to move. I was getting more pissed by the moment. Two more minutes and I’d have been pulling the dumb fuck out of its car and beating the fuck out of it, I swear to God!

We still want to go to the library some other time and to the mall so I can get more clothes.

If I don’t get my braids doll today, then I guess I’ll get her next week.

Ashton-Drake sent me their new catalog. They had a couple of new Indian dolls that were nice, but for $135, no thanks. If they weren’t 17” and under, that’d be different.

Later…

Tom came this morning. I was shocked. He cums so rarely that it was just so unexpected that I wondered if he’d quit for good.

So, are our new assholes coming today? I’d guess that if they’re moving in today, they should be here any time now. Well, they won’t be playing basketball in the midst of moving in! Anyway, Tom says he’ll stick around and spy along with me till 11:00, but that if they don’t come by then, he’s gonna go out to the racetrack.

THURSDAY, APRIL 22, 1999 Andy left a message about an hour ago saying he was bored and lonely, so call him if I was up. I called, but he didn’t answer. Then he called me back saying he was out walking and wanted another hour before calling. I thought he was supposed to be so bored and lonely. He’s probably lowering himself out of desperation to cruising the streets for sex. So, I just left him a message to please have his eating done when he calls me but to just let the phone ring once, and I’ll take that as my cue to make my coffee, then I’ll call him back. Knowing him, though, he’ll have a mouthful of food, the little pig!

In the first message he left, he told me he didn’t know if he’d told me yet, but that he was going back east in May for a visit, and he went through that spiel again, after telling me three times. Of course, if he stopped potting his brains out, he may remember what he’s already told me. Sometimes, though, I think he just rambles about the same old things just to be leaving me a lengthy message, since he never really has anything new going on with him. He says he realizes he chooses to be bored. Yeah, I realized that a long time ago. I know he doesn’t want to do anything. As I told him, though, I’ll still accept him no matter what he does, and this is true whether or not I dumped him. He has to be what he wants to be. No one can make him work or do anything he doesn’t want to do. Only God can do that to any of us.

Then he says he’s gonna get his act together and seriously work when he gets back. Yeah, right! And I’ll get serious about being a brain surgeon!

I’m surprised Tammy hasn’t called yet, but she will. It’s just a matter of time. I knew the pathological liar had no intentions of sending a letter or pictures either like she said she would, but do I really care or want these anymore? No. I’m done with these people.

It’ll be nice to have Andy go back east and give me a break from the phone for two weeks, but will he call Tammy? I hope not, for his sake. She’s a very insecure person, uncomfortable with gays, and living in the past. She’ll only be rude, cold and distant to Andy and bring up the past, but Andy has to be Andy, as always, and do whatever he wants to do.

Later…

I managed to get Andy off the phone in just a half hour. He was falling asleep anyway, and the stoned ditz who never listens to a damn thing I say asked the same questions for the tenth time and brought up yet again manufactured homes being cheaper and blowing away in storms. For the tenth time, I explained to him why they’re cheaper and why they won’t blow away (he’s just jealous and is trying to burst my bubble). So, after hearing about stuff I already know, he mentioned us going to Camelback Mountain and then to his house. I reminded him of how he recently said he was sick of Camelback Mountain, then he goes, “Boy, I contradict myself a lot, huh?” Yeah, he does. Anyway, I don’t want to go, but what am I supposed to do? Tell him, “No, I don’t feel like it. Besides, why do you think I’m not giving you our address and number when we move? Cuz I’m sick of you. I’ve moved on in life, you haven’t. You’re a lazy druggie and I don’t need that.”

He wanted me to hand-write more notes up for him to distribute, but I told him no. Not just because I don’t feel like writing the notes, but because I’m sick of doing for him and not getting much in return for it. There’s nothing he can really offer me. Also, why doesn’t he do it? He has the time. While he’s sitting at home stuffing his face or getting high, why doesn’t he do it? He said he might have Michelle do it.

Lastly, during our talk, he said he was picking food out of his teeth but I know he was really eating the whole time. God, what a fucking, major fucking pig this guy’s become! That’s about 35 minutes of eating - damn!

I wonder what Naper dolls are? Andy says Barbara Nicks collects these.

Later…

That fucking pest! Here we go again with the phone. He just called twice. Let me make some coffee, then see what this general nuisance wants now.

Later…

Well, Andy just had himself a little scare. I’d have been furious and I’d have run out after the person but to each their own. He sleeps with music on and had just turned his radio on to go to bed when he heard these weird noises. So he turned the music off and listened and then saw someone running from his backyard. I don’t know if the person heard him, changed their mind, or what their intentions were in the first place, but Andy was appalled that someone tried breaking in at 4:00 in the morning with him there. He says he keeps his kitchen window open sometimes and that they got the screen out. I say it’s Laura-related or someone he’s had problems with cuz 4:00 in the morning is not the time to go breaking into houses when you know the people are probably home and could very well shoot you since so many people have guns.

I sort of played a joke on Tom. I told him on the machine that I saw a show about people like him who rarely cum and that it has to do with some blockage, so it’s physical and not mental. It’s rare, but maybe not as rare as people think cuz some people won’t speak up about it cuz they’re either shy, embarrassed, or afraid they won’t be believed. Meanwhile, he can do what he wants with the information and doesn’t have to change a thing on account of me.

It’s a long shot. Quite a long shot. But maybe his problem is physical. Whatever it is, although I still think it’s fear of making a kid, I hope he doesn’t change unless he wants to. I prefer him as he is. Especially since I don’t want a kid, regardless of how much it’s not meant to be, anyway.

For a few hours this morning, a city van was next door. I don’t know if they were around in the afternoon, though. It appears the electricity’s not on yet. Also, that unmarked white car that looks like ours and a little like one of the ones that would visit the bitch was there today, too.

The lock’s still on. I hope they wait till after the weekend before cutting it off, cuz then that’ll be one less weekend that it could be used.

I wonder why they haven’t taken the recycle bin in from off of the side of the road.

Tom’s still sure we can beat our deadline and be out of here in July or August. I hope so! I really, really do!

Yesterday I dragged out two old, beat-up chairs to be put in the alley during bulk pickup, an old table, and that wavy, furry recliner that Andy gave us.

Woke up to find that I lost a pound, naturally, without water pills. I’m down to 107 pounds. Of course, though, that meant no shitting, so I’ll be back to 108-109 by tomorrow.

Later…

Got the bitch’s new number. Yesterday, I used the message-send thing (which is untraceable as far as I know) as a test and sent a message to her old number. All I did was moan for a second. It went through, but why would it send to a number that’s been changed and that’s not in use now? Must’ve gotten forwarded to her new number. Also, I thought this bitch didn’t accept blocked calls. Maybe she’s too broke to have kept her Caller ID.

Anyway, I called at 5:45 and whispered her name. She said, “Uh-huh” and there was no doubt about it being her. She asked who it was and I whispered something unclear, hoping she’d guess a name that I’d go along with. Bitch did just that. She asked, “Michelle?” I said yes, and that I was scared about this guy Brian I met last night who was outside my window. She asked what I wanted her to do and I asked if she could come over. She said she didn’t have a car to come over. I asked if her dad was there yet. She said no one was there yet. I asked if she had to go to work. She said yes. So, I told her I’d call her later and that was it.

I wonder if the bitch will suspect me when she finds out Michelle never called her.

I really think she’s still subsidized and that’s why she moved quietly and hasn’t done anything to the house. I think that for some reason, the city just transferred her to some other house. Maybe not even a house. Maybe an apartment, but my guess is that she’s in another house. She’s not living with Mike. At least I don’t think she is, cuz she said, “Nobody’s here yet.” Not, “He’s not here yet,” when I asked about her dad, and remember, both Bill and the cock would come over in the mornings.

I thought about waiting till Bill got there to call him. I could probably come up with a clever enough line that he’d buy and weasel the new address out of him, but I won’t just in case he were to be a little suspicious and give me the wrong address. I’ll just stick with the original plan and mail it next door and let it get forwarded.

The final chapter of the bitch will be when I call her two more times. I’m gonna wait a week or two after sending her her stuff, then call her when I think she’ll answer and ask if she got the stuff. If she didn’t, she’d more than likely sound curious and confused and ask who I was. If she did, she should go off on me. I’ll make the last call a little later by way of the message-send thing. I’ll just remind her how lucky she is I didn’t maul her what with all the shit she and her cronies stuck me with, and just laugh and laugh away at her. Then just like Tammy, Larry, Dureen, Art, and Andy, we’ll be finished with each other.

Later…

I was right on assuming the city van would be here at 8:30. It just pulled in.

Tom mentioned us possibly looking in the paper for ads with people wanting to buy houses with cash. Oh, how wonderful it’d be if we could privately sell this house! Then I wouldn’t have to be woken up a billion times while waiting for a Realtor to call. Also, we’d get out of having to pay percentage fees.

Later…

Just saw this gray-haired guy, who I’ve seen working next door before, but who isn’t the one I spoke to, pull a door out from the back of the van. An inner door. Bitch and cock must’ve had a fight and punched a door out.

No white car today. At least not yet. That white car’s gotta be some kind of inspector checking up on the workers to make sure everything’s going well.

The van’s leaving. That was fast. And from what I could see, it was just that one guy.

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 21, 1999 Typical, typical Tom. He has me get him up at 10:00 so he can do some work on the back room before leaving at 12:30, but what does he do? Finds out he was outbid on a computer part on the online auction, then sat in front of the TV till he had to shower and leave. We’re never gonna get out of here by July or August at this rate. Not if he keeps contradicting and procrastinating, and not if the car keeps having problems. His being sad about having too much to do tells me something right there; that he’s gonna resist doing things till the last minute, causing us to be stuck here till October or something.

At 12:30, I went and put the lock on the hoop which will be cut off by the weekend tops, I’m sure. Can’t these fucking city people, when they see another lock, just say to themselves, Alright. Somebody must really want this locked for a reason. So be it then. But no. Knowing how people work, that’ll only egg them on to rebel and cut the lock off again and make a competition of it.

At 1:00, the renters had company. This is the latest I’ve ever known them to have company, but somehow, it doesn’t surprise me. All I heard was a car door, but for about 10 minutes they had their front door wide open and I could see people milling about. Then the white pickup that came and had parked on the street left and now the only two cars there are the ones that are always there. They’ve shut their door and lights.

The doll with braids could get here tomorrow!

Later…

I recorded myself singing to hear if there was a difference in the way my voice sounds since not smoking for a year and a half but it was the same. In other words, it sucked but was better than most could do. It was as nasally as it usually is. The only thing I didn’t hear that I’d always hear when I’d tape myself singing, was me clearing my throat. It was still strong, on key, and vibrant, but other than that, I didn’t like what I heard.

I could’ve sworn I just saw Katie trying to fuck Ashley. I took her out, and Patch too, since she was easier to get at than Ashley at the moment, and looked at their parts. They look the same to me, but boy is Patch’s weird cuz of her tumor that’s growing fast. Unlike the others that had tumors, hers goes down from her hip to her crotch. Although I could see her parts, her crotch is bulging at one side making it look sort of twisted. How can she shit with this thing?

Another racially motivated school shooting. This one’s in Denver where my braids doll is. They need to go back to segregation, I swear! It shouldn’t have to be that way, but it’s the only way to cut down some of the problems like this. Especially since kids nowadays can get a hold of guns as easily as bubble gum. Kids are mean enough as it is and will shoot another kid for the color of their shirt, so why add fuel to the fire and give them more reasons? It’s not fair, it’s not right, blacks and whites should be able to get along, but that’s just pure fantasy and never to be a reality. You can’t just say, “OK boys and girls. I want you to all get along now no matter what color you are.” That’s not the way it works. In reality, blacks and whites don’t mix. Period. We may not like it or think it should be that way, but that’s just the way it is. It’s always been that way and it always will be.

It’s pretty sick to see how almost all schools are installing metal detectors. What have schools become? Airports? Well, I’m glad I’ll never be having a kid. I’d have hated to send it to such a war zone and be wondering all the time if it’d get shot. Sending kids off to school today is like sending them off to some military base with beefed-up security. Instead of learning what they should be learning, they’ve got to fear for their lives (if they aren’t one of the ones on some murderous rampage).

TUESDAY, APRIL 20, 1999 I’m to get Tom up at 10:00, according to the message he left when he came in while I was asleep, so he can get some work done in the back room.

He stops at his ma’s on Tuesdays and Thursdays. He says she’s doing OK. Yeah, I figured.

Last night, we had our typical cumless sex. Neither of us could really get into it. He didn’t even go on top, claiming he likes variety. I really believe that whether or not I was with just Tom for the rest of my life, or slutting around with women, sex will never again be new, exciting, and fulfilling. It’s easier to just get myself off when I need to get off since I don’t have the patience to get off with him since it now takes me forever to get off. I don’t think he could hold out long enough for me to get off. I don’t want to run the guy ragged in bed.

I forgot to mention that I saw an ad on TV for free information on being an art student and taking an art test. I don’t want to be an art student anywhere, but I’m curious to take the test and have it graded. You take some art test that’s judged by people who teach at this school, I guess, and I’m curious to see what they say about it. I haven’t drawn in ages!

I had Ratsy running around the music room the other night like Piggy used to do. He seemed to have a good time.

Someone had to be next door early Monday morning; cuz the recycle bin was out (with the stuff I threw over there in it?). I don’t know if anyone was there today, cuz the bin’s still out.

As I knew would be the case sooner or later, though, the lock’s been cut off. Tonight, after Tom goes to work, I’ll put another lock on, just in case the other very old lock broke off. I doubt it, though. I’m sure it was cut off and that this one will get cut off, too. If God insists that the hoop not be locked and that I must deal with ball games till we move - so be it. At least that can’t wake me up and can be fanned out when I’m up. It’s getting hot too, so maybe kids won’t want to play much ball.

A good way to tell when the new scum’s about to move in will be by the security light. I know the city will replace that obnoxious light. Freeloaders, why did you have to move?!

We went to Staples and Walgreens yesterday. The seatbelt adjuster’s great. It really keeps the belt off my neck.

We bought a package of 10 boxes that are the same size as the ones he used to be able to get at work. I packed stuff we won’t need while we’re still here.

Got a V-shaped keyboard, but it was awful! I couldn’t type on it to save my life, so I’ve got my old one back. Tom may use it, though.

Got a book to hold me over till we go to the bookstore on Friday called Black and Blue. I’m almost done with The Other Side.

Got a puzzle, a potpourri thing you clip along the rim of the toilet, and lilac-scented refills which really do smell just like lilac.

I’m hoping that this Friday, Tom will not only feel up to going to Wal-Mart and to the bookstore but maybe to the library too, to get books on face exercises and doll making. Also, to get this 200 CD changer that you can hook up to your stereo. That’d be great! Then I’d never have to handle the CDs and risk damage to them or hairs getting caught in the stereo and Tom could have my CD rack for his computer CDs.

Speaking of exercises, I’m making yet another attempt to be consistent with that by developing another routine. I’ll do my abs, hips, and inner thighs every day (my worst areas), my upper body every other day, and my lower body every other day. About 8 exercises a day. Then when we move, I’ll walk on the walker for 15 minutes every day, too.

Talked to Paula earlier, who’s up to the usual - health problems, neighbor problems, and male problems. She’s getting her money back on the package. She either wrote the address out wrong, or the mailman gave it away. Maybe he really didn’t give it away, since I got these other packages. I think the ditz addressed it wrong and that I’m not meant to get mail from her. A doll from her would’ve been nice, but pictures would’ve been even nicer. However, I know I’ll never have pictures of her. This is the second attempt at her getting pictures to me. Something up there, for whatever reason, just doesn’t want me having pictures of her.

Andy mentioned coming over to use this program that prints out music you play on the keyboard. Always when he wants something. Can’t come over just to see me. I told him we don’t have the program anymore, but in truth, our computers aren’t set up for it, and I’m not gonna go out of my way or steal any of Tom’s sparse, valuable free time, to cater to Andy. We’ve given and done enough for Andy. Everything’s what Andy wants.

I did tell him, though, that he might want to come over to get the round glass shelves in the living room, cuz he should be able to haul it in his trunk, the more I think of it. It’ll stick out the back of his trunk, but he should still be able to transport it that way. It’s heavy enough that it won’t bounce out, even without a rope across it.

MONDAY, APRIL 19, 1999 Here’s a weird observation. We got this car on a Sunday, March 21st. So, exactly one month to the date, just four weeks later, there’s already a problem. I suppose some would consider me a selfish, greedy, ungrateful person, but I’m so sick of God’s unfairness. I resent his not letting us get ahead. If we have to play car, we’re never gonna get out of here come July or August. Not if every other weekend has to go to the car. I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if he had to spend the next weekend on the car, so there goes two days right there to prep and relax.

God, give the poor guy a break, will you? Have mercy on the guy! He works his ass off, has no free time, so leave him alone! Just leave the guy alone!

Talk about mixed emotions about God. Just yesterday I was feeling blessed by him for allowing me not to want a child, about the moving, the doll making, etc. Today, though, I could strangle him. Enough is enough is enough of the same old, same old.

I suppose he’s gonna go after the toilet again anytime now, too.

Later…

Couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d expand on my mixed emotions about God. Well, his ordering me childless, for example. I know I’ve probably said this before, but I hate him and I love him for it. I hate his taking away what was supposed to be my right and my responsibility as a human being to choose, yet I love him for letting me out of the misery and hardships it would’ve brought. Then I find myself feeling sorry for myself that God has no faith in me and that that’s why he didn’t let me have a child back when I wanted one, but he shouldn’t have faith in me. There are things I can handle, but we all have our limits. Mine is children. I could never handle a child.

SUNDAY, APRIL 18, 1999 Another stress-free weekend as far as next door goes. God, please don’t take it away too soon! I know better, though. The new subsidized blacks or Mexicans will be here this week. If not, definitely by the 1st of May.

Speaking of freeloaders, who was that that rang our bell an hour ago with the clipboard? It might not have been a clipboard, but the black guy was holding something. Some papers of some kind. He only rang once. Usually, people don’t give up that quickly. What says he could be an associate of Miss Bitch was how he walked directly to the collie house as if he knew the freeloaders' house was empty. On the other hand, if he’s innocent of any asshole connections, he may’ve decided not to bother with houses that had no cars in their driveways or carports, upon doing whatever he’s doing. Maybe a survey? I also couldn’t see if he went on to another house after stopping at the collies. Lastly, I think the bitch and the collie people had a fight at some point and are no longer in touch.

Anyway, we’ve been compensated for the dolls and peace with the usual - car trouble. I knew it. I just knew it and I told him this would happen. I knew that no matter what car he got, no matter how old, it’d have one problem after another. A hose sprung a leak. He taped it, but who knows if it’ll hold till he can replace it? And as soon as he does fix it, there’ll be a new problem in 2-4 weeks. We’re totally hexed with cars. I still see us moving this summer and so does he, but what? Are we gonna get held up in life again to have to play car constantly? The back room still looks the same, although he swears he filled up a box of CDs. Car trouble or not, he’s full of shit when he says he’ll clear/pack the back room. He ain’t gonna do that till it gets close to us moving.

He “says” he’s gonna have the pool fence delivered next Monday, but we’ll see. Everything’s always gotta get delayed with him. Yesterday he got the tools to do the fence with. He also says he’s gonna get more roofing (he was a little short) and do the patio roof soon.

He didn’t get to go to the track. Said so many things were going wrong with the handicapping program he wrote for his little computer that he took that as a sign saying he wasn’t meant to go. He did some shopping instead and got a sketch board for the computer. You draw on this board with a stylus and what you draw appears on the screen. We haven’t used it yet cuz he has to get a special adapter for it.

He also got this thing to move the seatbelt off of my neck.

He said they have some really cool contacts that you can get custom-made with your prescription. You can get cat’s eyes, spirals, contacts that whiteout the eyeballs, etc. That’d be interesting to see.

Later…

Cocoa’s dead. No more originals left. How sad. I guess Patch, although she still appears to be well, will be next soon enough. Ashley and Katie, who should have at least a year of life in them, should be the only ones to move with us.

I got up too early this afternoon to go to Wal-Mart and the bookstore when Tom gets in in the morning, so we’ll just go to Walgreens and buy a book, then hit Wal-Mart and the bookstore this Friday. I should be able to go then unless the new pieces of shit move in this week and wake me up in the process. Most people move on weekends, but who knows if the new assholes will even work?

I know I’m gonna be stuck with either blacks or Mexicans, and you know what? Mexicans may be even worse cuz they have kids like rabbits. I could end up with a Mex woman over there with 8 little kids who do nothing but stay home all day and play ball, while the boyfriend who isn’t supposed to be there comes in and out all day slamming doors and blasting music, along with their millions of just as rude, selfish, buddies.

I’d like to think that the city, knowing how much I don’t want shit like that, will think twice about who they put in there, but that’s not the way it works. Anyone in a subsidized house is gonna be like those freeloaders were. They’re not gonna give a damn about anyone but themselves. They want to be heard. Society’s so against people like this that they have to work for acknowledgment. The more you try to ignore most people and tell them to shut up, the more they’re gonna do things to be heard and noticed. These kinds of scum feel the dire need to remind people of their sorry existence. Yes, Mexicans could end up worse, making it seem like the black folks never had company and like the kids that were associated with them were comatose. The adults talk really loud just like adult blacks do, and the women are typically just as aggressive as black women and butches are. The guys are all the same. So, while I could end up with a home-all-the-time Mex woman over there, plus adults that aren’t supposed to be living there, plus tons of kids, the shithead’s sister and her 5 kids are gonna be over constantly, and her other sister and her 6 kids will be too, and so on and so forth.

God, why do you do this to me?! Why is it that the biggest family has to go next to me? Or the blacks and the Hispanics? Why do I have to get stuck with them, huh? Can’t I have some nice, white, quiet, respectful, dogless, childless person or persons over there till we move? No! Of course not! That’d be the day! Can’t it stay empty till we move? No! That’d also be the day!

What is it with all these off-brands I’ve seen walking around these streets lately, anyway? I thought this was mainly a white, middle-class neighborhood.

I envy Tom, who says depending on what he eats, he can be full for up to 3-4 hours. I couldn’t be full past 20 minutes if I tried! The only way to satisfy my hunger regularly would be to eat the same amount, maybe a little more, than your average adult eats, which will put 20-50 pounds on me in less than half a year.

For when it comes time to show the house and to move, I’ve got five boxes that Summer Dream, Patrice, Angel, Falling Star and Christina will fit perfectly in. Meanwhile, the doll with braids that’s on its way can sit safely in her box. Anne, Edie, Victoria and Sunshine and Lollipops will fit on the tallest closet shelf which is Tom’s closet. Bailey, Maria, Giselle, Rapunzel and Mary can sit on the top of my journal bookcase. That way, they’ll be out of the way of unruly children that’ll be coming to see the house, and in a safe place for moving. Not all the dolls need to go in a box. It’s OK if some of them sit in the backseat of the car. I’ll just stick one of my shirts over them for extra cushioning.

That was weird. Some lonely desperado just went down the street honking. About 10 quick honks. What? Your stereo don’t work? Must’ve blown those speakers!

Those fucking sales calls are now coming even on Sundays. Sundays were the only day I had to look forward to getting a break from them, but not anymore. A guy called from some opinion/research thing. I told him I’d give him my opinion, alright - fuck off! I know I’m wasting my breath with these people, but it feels good to cuss them out now and then. He had a woman try again later, but I told her to fuck off too, and that was it for tonight.

Guess who couldn’t wait another weekend to not call? You got it. The motor mouth itself called and left three messages. Two for the last two weekends he didn’t call, and one for this weekend. Trying to make up for lost time, I guess. He didn’t mention God, but he brought up the food. He said he has a cold and should eat, but won’t. Right! I know he’s stuffing his face left and right cold or not. Like I said, he’s obsessed with finding common ground with people. He’s trying to reflect Michelle onto himself, so he’s eating like a pig and trying to gain weight. I don’t know if he knows this on a conscious level or not. Well, if he keeps eating like he has been, he may not end up like Michelle, but he will gain weight. Things have a way of catching up to us.

Anyway, the thing I like about his messages, although I’d rather a few short ones than lots of long ones, is that I can hit 3 to skip the boring parts. Most of what he says is boring or stuff that I already know, and he almost always leaves full 3-minute messages. But by hitting the 3 button it forwards 10 seconds. I also have to 6 it too, to speed him up. Like I said, I’m not gonna try to change his ways or politely ask for simple reasonable things that a friend should have no problem complying with. I’m just gonna let Andy be Andy and walk away.

So I skimmed through most of his messages being glad he wasn’t live. When we talk live, I can’t fast-forward him. I did listen to one part, though, but that’s because what he had to say was such a crock of shit that I was laughing all the way through it. His “new career move” (he’s only had about a thousand of these this year alone) is gonna be to tour with bands selling T-shirts. Right, Andy! Sure! That’s the biggest crock of shit. Brilliant, Andy! Real brilliant. Wake up, boy! You gonna spend your whole life an immature druggie loser with your head in the sand? Damn! Some people never change. They never grow. They never move on, learn, develop, and mature. I mean, I’m still a kid at heart too, in many ways. I still have teddy bears and shit like that, but look at all I’ve learned and done since 1988. But look at Andy - still a druggie, still smoking, still poor, still unstable, still loveless, still can’t hold a job, still obsessed with losers, looks, and youth. Still thinks he can mix dreams with reality, and is still as selfish and contradicting as always. Still loves abusers and conflicts with people. The only difference is that he never shuts up and he eats like a pig.

I used to look up to this guy. Now I’m not saying I’m perfect and that there’s no good in him. It’s just that I now see him as a few steps below myself and if he hasn’t come up a few pegs closer to my level by now, he ain’t gonna at all. He’s as set in his ways as I am in mine. Although I’d say I have a little more of an open mind for change than he does, and change is exactly what I need - meaning - no Mr. M in the new house! As hard as this may be to comprehend, I still do love and care for him and I want him to succeed in life and be happy. After we move, I’ll make it a point, on the first of every month, to close my eyes and think of Andy and Lisa and pray for their health and happiness in life, even if prayer almost never works for me. The power of prayer? Ha! How about the power of wishful thinking? That’s what they ought to call it. Meanwhile, let Andy chew in my ear, call up a storm, and bore me with God and food talk all he wants till it’s time to move on.

Guess the sales calls are done for the night. The question is, though - how long must the payback go on? And why is it that Andy never had to lose as much sleep as I did and get 5-10 sales calls a day? God must really favor anything male over anything female. Andy’s rude untrue friends may’ve woken him up here and there, but that’s something he could’ve avoided. He chose to associate with friends that aren’t true friends. People that don’t respect him enough to even let him sleep. Me? I had no choice. There was nothing I could do to keep from being woken up like I constantly was from 1991-1993. Especially during 1992. In 1992, I got woke up nearly every single day. Much more often than not. But sure enough, Andy’s beloved God wouldn’t have him be woken up day after day for over a year. Nor would he have him get nearly a dozen sales calls a day.

Speaking of lost sleep, I sure as hell can count on losing plenty when the house goes up for sale. I won’t allow the new subsidized scum to wake me up, but I gotta answer the phone if the Realtor calls to show the house when I’m on nights. Not that it’s not worth it, but knowing I’ll have to answer to a zillion sales calls and Andy, does not go over well with me at all. Andy says he’ll use the message-send thing. Yeah, right! This selfish loser’s gonna be calling me directly and we both know it. You’re such a true friend, Andy. Such a true friend. It’s nice to know I can count on you for a favor. Hey, what are friends for anyway, right?

I decided not to mail Andy his stuff right away. I’ll wait a few weeks after we move. I’ll give him a few weeks to sit and wonder where I am. Maybe that’ll just make him all the more determined to read his stuff thoroughly. That’ll depend on how curious he is, but it’s hard to get a druggie to do anything. They are so non-ambitious! Sorry, but I think I deserve better for a friend. I have too much respect for myself to have selfish little potheads for pals.

The spotting stopped yesterday. I have no idea when my next full flow will come, but if it comes at the end of the month, then I guess that’d be pretty much on time.

I saw an ad on TV for getting a video and some audiotapes for $40 on face exercises to tighten the face/neck. When we go to the library to look for the doll-making book (when he’s not playing car) I’ll have to look for a book on this. I could use those exercises, if they really work, to pick up my sagging neck and keep the folds that run from the sides of the nose to the sides of the mouth from getting any worse.

SATURDAY, APRIL 17, 1999 Falling Star could very well arrive tomorrow (today). I wish! I won’t count on it, though. Not if this stupid fuck of a mailman is gonna give it away or take his sweet time with delivering it, even if it is priority mail.

Monday morning we’re gonna go to Walmart. I’ve been needing more bras. We’re also gonna go to the bookstore.

Later…

Got Falling Star, Mary, and Christina today! I was shocked. Tom said they came as early as 9:15 this morning. Was there any doll trouble since they came so soon? You bet. But it was nothing I couldn’t fix or improve and deal with. Falling Star had no problems. She’s 12” kneeling and is on her brown bear rug right by me as I type, but I was afraid at first that I wouldn’t be able to pose her kneeling, cuz she’d pitch forward. I didn’t realize her legs would be soft and that they’d bend. Guess there’s a wire in them. Only her feet and lower calves are porcelain. She has cream-colored moccasins with a few tiny red and green beads. Her dress, which is sort of corduroy up top and felt on the bottom, is cream-colored from the chest down. There’s a dark aqua stripe along the hem and below that are fringes. She’s got longer fringes streaming off the front lower part. She has a brown leather belt with round silver studs. There are red and green beads throughout the dress. The upper part of the dress and the sleeves are dark aqua with white trim. The sleeves, which go down to the wrists, have fringes off the ends and are a little wide. Her arms are a little too long with hands a little too big, but other than that, she’s gorgeous. Her face reminds me of Summer Dream’s, even though they’re very different. Her face, with its delicate and distinct features, is more realistic looking than most of my dolls. Her dark brown eyes really have that wet look and they shimmer and sparkle with light as you move around them. She came with a beaded knife pocket (she doesn’t have a real knife. It’s just a handle glued to the top of the pocket), a beaded bracelet, and four beaded necklaces. Two reds and two blues. She looked good with one I made on too, but that was before I put her hair in a ponytail and exposed the big silver clasp in back. She has two white feathers in her hair that stick up in back. Also, some round gold thing, but I don’t know what you’d call it. Her black straight hair is short for being Indian. It’s barely to the middle of her back, but it’s long enough still. I’ve been wanting a doll that’d look good in a ponytail for variety. I used a red elastic to put her hair back with and it looks better this way. The red elastic goes with the red beads well, too. She has no bangs and her hair is close to one length. It’s parted in the middle.

Falling Star’s the doll we won even though we lost. I was outbid on her, but the woman offered us another one anyway for our bidding price of $46. An excellent deal, cuz I know these dolls go for $132 from Ashton-Drake. They have one similar to her, only she sits on a log, has a different outfit, and has braided hair. Ashton-Drake would want $80 for Christina and over $100 for Mary, but they don’t do dolls over 20” and Mary’s 22”.

Christina, the 16” ballerina, was a mistake. However, if the guy who sold her to me offered to buy her back, I’d say no. Unlike Mary and Falling Star, she’s not extremely detailed. Her hair is, though. It’s blond with bangs and up in two braids across the top of her head. She’s got flowers and ribbons of different shades of blue in her hair. Her face, though, is the worst of all. Her eyes are such a weird and ugly color. It’s like a grayish gold/green color with stripes, and eyelashes that are too long. She was very poorly put together. This is a girl doll no older than 10. Probably between 6-8, yet she had tits. Not only did she have tits but they were also so low. They were on her upper stomach. She was also pitching forward in her stand and was standing disproportionately. Slightly twisted at the waist. Her head, just like the other two that came today, was turned slightly towards one side. She’s supposed to be standing on both toes, but one toe doesn’t quite touch. Her dress is very nice, but I had to use the steamer on it at first. It’s made of that stiff stuff that Patrice has in the skirt of her dress, and it was a little crinkled at first. It’s white, with white solid dots on it. The only blue part is on the chest and sleeves, and that part’s satin. She has the same stiff stuff at the shoulders and blue satin ballet slippers that crisscross up to below the knee and tie in a bow as do Giselle’s. Her dress and blows consist of two different shades of blue. Sky blue, and a blue/green color. So all three of my ballerinas are wearing blue. This one just has blue only at the top of her dress. I undressed her to see if I could better proportion her so she’d look better and stand sturdier. That was when I noticed the “tit pillow” that was glued onto her upper stomach area. What a stupid thing to do. Anyway, I couldn’t pull or cut it off without having to cut the cloth part of the body out altogether. At first, it felt like foam was the body packing, but when I looked at it, it looked exactly like multi-colored lint that you’d pull out of a dryer. Fortunately, it was tightly packed enough that I could just leave it as it was. The stuffing won’t go falling out. Her pantaloons had a million threads hanging from them so I trimmed those off, and out of her pants came a little silica gel packet. This is the first doll I’ve seen packed with this. It’s to keep moisture out, but why would a porcelain doll need it? I’m not gonna bother to see if Mary’s got one in her pants. So after removing her so-called implants, I wiggled her around to a better position, and now she’s standing steadier on her stand and looking much better than when she arrived.

Mary is runner-up on my list of those who came today, and for a Victorian doll, she’s beautiful. She’s skinny for 22” tall. Her face is bigger than Giselle’s, but not as big as Maria’s and Bailey’s. I thought she’d be Maria’s size, but she’s just a tad shorter and wider than Giselle. I love how her dress, which is about a half-inch past her feet, falls straight down. It’s a nice change from the typical full-circle gown like Rapunzel’s that stands out. I don’t know if I’d describe it as burgundy, though. I’d say it’s a maroon (or dark red) and pink floral design. The dress is very detailed and sort of hard to describe. It’s got two white ribbon sashes across the chest with two button-like things in the middle. It’s long-sleeved, and there’s white lace at the neck, sleeves and the very bottom. The sleeves are so long that they only made her porcelain just a little above the wrists. Usually, the arms are porcelain to just above the elbow. There’s white netting from the waist down, and an area at the bottom that’s about two inches wide of white, gathered satin. There are also three pink rosebuds in the front with a few off-white embroidered lines that go down and across the front. She has yellow rosebuds with leaves in one hand. Well, sort of. The stem is wrapped around her wrist. She has white shoes, a pearl necklace, green eyes, and a matching hat. I couldn’t take the hat off cuz it’s glued on in a way that I could tear off, but there’d be glue in her hair that’d be impossible to get out and that’d look really dumb. The hat’s nice, though, with a feather, a yellow bow, and a yellow, orange and pink flower. She has curly brown hair with bangs and two small braids at the sides. Her hair’s a lot like Sunshine and Lollipop’s, and just like with Sunshine and Lollipop’s, I straightened her hair out a little bit. Mary’s stand was a bit bent and Tom straightened it out for me.

Of all my dolls, Bailey’s still number one. She’s the best looking and the most realistic looking too. Tom agrees.

So now I have 7 dark-haired dolls and 7 light-haired dolls, but that’ll change to 8 light-haired dolls when Miss Braids gets here, whatever her real name is. The guy, who’s in Denver, should’ve gotten our check for her yesterday or today, so that means we should get her probably Wednesday or Thursday if all goes as swiftly as the others did. Falling Star came from Ohio and the other two came from Wisconsin.

I have 9 girl dolls and 5 women dolls, but again, that’ll be changing. I’ll soon have 10 girl dolls. They’re all very detailed except for Christina, and I’m very happy with them all. Especially with Falling Star and Mary. I don’t know why Falling Star didn’t come with a certificate of authenticity, but Mary and Christina did.

The guy that packed Mary and Christina, packed them in a big box. Great for moving. I’ll also keep their boxes to put them in when it comes time to show the house and move.

Tom says that tomorrow he’ll clear the massive mound of clutter in the back room. That’s great, but every time he decides to do this, although that hasn’t been very many times, he retrashes it. I hope he won’t do that yet again. He needs to get some of this shit packed and out of the way for packed boxes. I can only fit so many boxes in the other rooms.

FRIDAY, APRIL 16, 1999 The van was next door again. The hoop is still locked, though.

I’m gonna deal with these new black, rude, selfish assholes right this time. As soon as they stick their bass on me or whatever the fuck noise they’re gonna throw out, I’m not even gonna waste my breath going over there and asking them to quiet down. I’m not gonna get a phony, “Sure. No problem,” only to have them keep right up with their shit. A city letter’s going right in as soon as they start up.

The phone rang earlier and I saw Tammy’s number. I said to myself, I knew it was just a matter of time before she started calling, but the person tried calling collect so that told me it was Lisa. Lisa calling with a problem since she rarely calls just to say hi. But the call came at 8:00 her time. Isn’t she supposed to be with the sick fuck at that time? Tammy says he takes them on weekends. I can’t believe a woman would place her kids in danger like that no matter what the courts order. What if he kills one of them? These things may not happen as often as we brush our teeth, but they do happen.

Anyway, I know this may sound like the cruelest, most selfish thing, but I’ve washed my hands of all Os and Gs. I don’t want nothing to do with their goddamn misery and problems and all that. Had it with their control, their negativity, their selfishness, their lies, etc. My life is too good right now to mar it with their shit. All it does is get me upset or angry when I hear about how Bill’s doing this or Larry’s doing that. The mention of Art and Doe’s names doesn’t do well with me, either. Just thinking of these people is enough to get me riled up. I moved on and that’s what I need to keep on doing. I need good, positive people like Tom in my life. People who haven’t abused me like they have. People who don’t pressure me into doing what they think I should be doing. After the overkill on the control and non-acceptance I grew up with and put up with as an adult, I’m a freedom freak in almost every sense of the word. I spent my childhood taking their abuse. I spent my 20s taking more of their abuse and trying to impress them and win them over. By the time I hit my 30s, I was fed up. I just don’t care anymore what they say, what they do, or what they think. They can all go to each other with problems I’ve had with them. They can lie, they can exaggerate, they can all kill themselves or each other. I’m not saying I want these people to suffer, I’m just saying they’re out of my life and that they’re people of the past. It’s up to them to either sink or swim.

I forgot to take the phone off the hook so these fucking sales calls wouldn’t keep distracting me, so when one called just now, I simply picked the phone up and left it off its hook. Didn’t even bother wasting my time telling them to fuck off.

Later…

Another half hour and I’ll put the phone back on the hook.

Last night was rather shitty, but only for a few minutes, fortunately. I swear, whether or not I stay not wanting a kid, or return to wanting one, I’ll never again bring up the subject of Invitro or a kid again. All it brings is trouble, as always. I told Tom I’d consider in vitro in a few years cuz he says he wants a kid. I knew I really wasn’t gonna do this, though. Then he said he was against it and never felt we needed a doctor. He said that just like he supported me last December, he’d support me in the future if I decided I wanted in vitro, and that’s really sweet of him, but why is this otherwise logical, practical, realistic, sensible guy so heavy in denial? First he thinks I could conceive naturally, then he felt something was wrong, and now he thinks both (he’d say I was still gonna conceive naturally even if I had to have a hysterectomy!). He said he sometimes has conflicting beliefs. We all have a right to our beliefs, but this one’s just too far-fetched and that of a delusional person. It may not be more than a dozen times, but he’s cum enough to prove to a rational human being that it’s thoroughly impossible for me, Jodi Lin, to conceive. That is a completely foreign thing as far as my body’s concerned. My body just doesn’t do that. It doesn’t understand that. It’s like it sees embryos as enemies. This may not be the case, but the point is, if he thinks I’m gonna conceive naturally someday, he’s kidding himself. He’s too smart to have these conflicting beliefs he says he has. I don’t think he really believes what he says he does. I think it’s his way of conning me. It’s easier for someone to go into denial than it is to face a situation and try to change it for the better. He also knows, though, that he’s not alone anymore. I don’t want a child any more than he does. I still say I could never have handled it, it would’ve caused major conflict between us constantly, and stolen our lives and freedom. This is another reason why he’s in denial and not eager to see if there really is something wrong that hasn’t been detected yet. This is why he doesn’t cum. Not that I’m not OK with this attitude, I’m just stating the facts here. He used, to his advantage, how I talk about meant to be and not meant to be. He said that if it was meant to be, it’d happen naturally. Oh, I’m sure he’s right. However, I was meant to have an ear canal too, but only through surgery. Not naturally. Nonetheless, I believe what he believes. For me, if it were meant to be, it would’ve happened by now and it would’ve happened naturally.

The peak of our arguing and analyzing our beliefs came when I threw one of my dog mugs and smashed it against the bedroom wall and said mean things to him. Right before this, he stormed out of the room swearing. Then he came back and apologized and insisted he help pick up the mess. I know it was wrong of both of us to go off, but like I knew better, I should never have brought it up. God, how I hate having such a curious mind and loving to analyze things left and right!

Even up to this day, I don’t believe him when he says he can’t help his not cumming. Forget about whether or not I accept the cumless sex and have come to be used to it, forget about whether or not I want a kid. The point is, I always thought he was lying and I still do. There’s got to be a reason for this. I can’t be so sure he’s been lying to me about this for years without a legit reason. Again, there’s no such thing as being able to get hard but not cum. If you can’t cum, you can’t get hard. I could do another five years of asking myself why he won’t just admit his fear of cumming and ask that we use some method of birth control, regardless of how sure I am that I can’t conceive naturally, but I have to trust that he has his reasons for sacrificing cumming altogether with his own wife. I don’t want to be accused of trying to control/change him.

Then the dream came. I’m still not sure whether or not I was asleep, or if this was just a dream or something more, but it was my maternal grandmother Shirley G. She came and sat down on the side of the bed beside me, and in her no-nonsense tone of voice, informed me that the choice is now mine. God’s given me a full bag of rights as a woman. I must be sure I don’t want a child, cuz if I don’t heed her warning, so to speak, consequences could result.

I’ve thought about it and thought about it, but it makes no sense. Why would God suddenly hand me my rights as a woman? All my rights as a woman? Why now? Why now when we’re in the middle of moving? This would be an awful time for that. It wouldn’t fit into our lives now. Why would he think I deserve the rights? Why would he think I could handle them? Why would he stop looking out for me? God wouldn’t let me get into something that was not right for me, that I couldn’t handle, that wasn’t meant to be, whether it was intentional or accidental. So I chose to ignore this dream, this whatever it was, for two reasons. One is that I know I’m not meant to have a child. Two is that he quit cumming. So as long as he refuses to cum out of sheer stubbornness and fear, I’m not about to conceive at all. This, though, will be a sign as to how right I am about it not being meant to be. If he stays not cumming, all the more I know I’m right. Then again, it’s not like he’s never cum before, or that other guys haven’t, so does it matter if he cums or not? No. Destiny is destiny is destiny. Period. I don’t know my full destiny. But I know parts of it. A child isn’t part of it. Trust me. His not cumming is simply part of God’s orders that said my sex life shall be hexed, just like he ordered me to be short and brunette. If I were suddenly with someone else, male or female, they too, would have a problem.

Ironically enough, though, is this spotting for a few days when I’m approximately mid-cycle. The spots seem to have stopped. Guess I’m not gonna go into a full flow anytime too soon. Anyway, I have had times where I’ve spotted for a few days a week before my period, but if I get my period in a week, that’s still pretty damn early. Is something changing? I get the feeling something’s “resetting” itself, so to speak, but I don’t know. I don’t see how this dream could have a single grain of truth to it. Like it or not, the choice was never mine. It was always God’s choice and it always will be. I don’t need to worry if he cums, I don’t need to worry about using birth control. I won’t lose my life to a child. I have too many other things planned for me, and as God knows, there’s only so much one can do at once or in their whole lifetime.

Andy says that since Laura’s moved out, his shit’s solid and the stress has really lifted. Yeah, I know. I know what that’s like. I went through that when he left the Woodside Terrace apartment.

I can only imagine how much fighting he and his friend Wendy will do along the way back east. By the way, they’re gonna stay in Outdoor Camps of America and save hotel money. Andy says that different people want to see him or do things with him when he visits, but as Andy himself admitted, he’ll be doing only what he wants to do. However, he’s been anything but selfish lately. No pigging out in my ear. No constant calls. I know Tom wouldn’t call him up and warn him saying, “Look. Be a little less selfish and back off if you don’t want to lose her,” so it’s made me wonder if he sensed what’s coming to him the day he was here getting the comforter and telling me about Stevie and Cheryl. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s sensed something and he is sort of psychic if you ask me.

Later…

Speaking of spotting, I’m doing it again.

Tom went for his eye appointment today to get a 6-month supply of disposable contacts. He missed contacts, but because he hasn’t worn them in so long, he has to get used to them again little by little.

Tom’s hip was bothering him really badly today. I don’t know if it’s arthritis starting, or if he pulled a muscle. I don’t think he knows, either. I just hope it’s better tomorrow so he can go to the track. As he said, it means a lot to him. I hope God will help give him the break he deserves. He’s been depressed cuz of not having enough free time due to all that has to be done.

There were some pieces of wood that were about three feet long and three inches wide. I don’t know what we were gonna use them for, but anyway, I’ve got them in between the bars of the rat’s cage so they can use them as little shelf beams to climb/sit on.

Mickey, Porky and Butterscotch all ended up bigger than Ratsy.

First I straightened Rapunzel’s hair, then I crimped it, and I just went and tried to curl it but it wouldn’t curl too easily. So I went to wash out what little curl I started, but it wouldn’t wash out. Not even the crimps would wash out. So, I’m just gonna leave her as she is.

This is the first manufactured home place that sent us a card urging and hoping we’d do business with them. It was that nosy Maria we saw the last time. The card said: The friendship of those we serve is the foundation of our progress. We truly appreciate the opportunity to assist you with your upcoming housing change. We sincerely want your business and we intend to earn it.

Do they? Well, I’m hoping they will. They got the best house yet. I really like the floor plan of that last house we saw.

Saw a documentary last night with different people’s points of view on why they believe the world may end in 20 years and why they believe it may not. They talked about the different sources that believe we’re in the last days and why, as well as those that feel life will go on. I would say our biggest fear shouldn’t be the antichrist, global disasters such as fire, floods, earthquakes, tornadoes, title waves or war. I think that if anything ended the world it’d be a falling asteroid, comet or meteorite. It’s happened before and it’s what most believe is responsible for killing the dinosaurs. Anyway, life will end when it ends.

THURSDAY, APRIL 15, 1999 Evie’s being her typical self with the health problems - had to have a hose with a camera down her nose and throat and into her vocal cords - yuck! How can anyone have a hose down their throat and not gag it up? I could never handle that!

The city van was next door again today. I can’t say how long they were there but they left at the same time as yesterday at 4:00. Also, a white car was parked in the front of the house while they were there. There was no writing on this car and it sort of looked like one of the cars that would visit the bitch. I wonder if the city called her bitching about the yard she supposedly trashed, she denied it, then came over here to see the stuff she’s supposed to have left here.

So, I guess the new assholes will be here by May 1st and so we’ll have to deal with whatever shit and noise they bring for a few months. Better than a few years, though!

Later…

Talked to Paula earlier. She said she wonders if she could’ve written the package address out to N. 21 St. instead of Ave. Yeah, that’s something she may’ve done. Anyway, she said she’ll put a trace on it and that the store still has those dolls, so if I don’t get this package, she’ll send another. However, I know it’ll never happen. I’m just not meant to get packages or pictures from her, and again, if there’s a doll in the picture, there’ll be a problem. I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if I only got two or three out of the four dolls I got from the auction. I advised her, though, that if she’s gonna send any packages anywhere, she should use priority mail and not parcel post. Tom says priority mail’s not much more expensive anyway than parcel post. Parcel post takes forever, and of course, there’s always the possibility that this package will show up in a week or two from now.

Paula’s up to the usual - onto another Puerto Rican guy and already talking about moving again. She changes guys and apartments like we change clothes!

She says her stomach’s been on the fritz due to nerves. She fears having to go to jail and has to go to court on the 23rd. She says it’s mainly traffic stuff, but also, there were some stolen car parts that were supposed to have been in the new car she just got that she didn’t know about, but had no receipt to prove was hers. Something along those lines, but you can never make out exactly what the fuck Paula’s talking about half the time. I mean, she talks in disjointed sentences and half the stuff she says makes no sense. Anyway, I highly doubt she has to worry about jail.

Later…

Tom’s up now and is on his way to get us some fast food. I haven’t had any in a while and suddenly felt the uncontrollable urge to binge.

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 14, 1999 A city van was next door for a while, but I couldn’t see who it was or what they were doing (I wonder if they hauled away the shit I threw over there?). There was a water truck over there yesterday. Guess they turned off the water, too.

Three of the dolls I got on eBay “supposedly” will arrive in about a week, give or take a couple of days. The other one is a person so we can’t use a credit card on them. We have to send them a money order, so it’ll take longer. I just hope these people are for real.

After the regular mail gets delivered today, I’ll call Paula to advise her to trace her package.

Yesterday morning at 9:30, shortly after I’d gotten up, I heard the phone ringing from the bathroom. As I went to answer it, I thought to myself about how I was gonna tell them, “I’m coming in today. Live with it!” However, shockingly enough, it was Dr. Brown’s office calling about the referral.

I got to the 10:45 appointment with no problem but didn’t even see Melanie. I wore the animal T-shirt I made too, just to show her, but all I saw was the doctor and Anne, the black lady. Anne said she was there but with another patient.

I’d been having irritation in a certain area of my gums and the doctor said it was because of one of the cavities I had. Food would get stuck in the hole in the tooth and it’d irritate the gums like a splinter. Since filling in the hole, though, I’ve had no discomfort whatsoever.

The doctor did my fillings and Anne did my braces. She said she only does it if she has to, cuz she’s too chicken. She said she was slow at it but didn’t want to hurt me. She was much slower than Mel, but so much gentler. She’s also much friendlier too, and I wouldn’t cry if I never saw Mel again and had to have Anne do my ortho. She was concerned with how I felt, not with getting the job done and over with in a hurry like Mel is, not that Mel doesn’t know what she’s doing. She knows her stuff, she’s just rough, and talk about impersonal!

A woman won $5,000 on the radio and Anne said she wished she could win $5,000 on the radio. I told her that if I did, I’d get new clothes since I haven’t gone shopping since losing weight, and she said she noticed my face was smaller. That was good to hear.

The UT pain, if that’s what it really was, was gone as of yesterday, but now I’ve got my period. Isn’t this a little early? Aren’t I like 10-15 days early? My body sure is a weird one.

I’ll take a break now, but later, I’ll get into the manufactured house we saw yesterday. For now, I’ll just say that it was the best house yet!

Later…

Tom’s home now after working 9 hrs. and 45 min. He’s beat.

I called Paula to let her know her package wasn’t coming but didn’t get the chance. She was busy, I guess, cuz she said she’d call back. No, the regular mail hasn’t come yet, but I know that if I haven’t gotten the package by 1:30, it’s not coming. He would’ve delivered his packages for the day already. Also, a parcel post package has had plenty of time to get here, so it obviously isn’t coming at all. I wonder, though, if this stupid shit of a mailman doesn’t let his packages sit for a while. I think the lazy fuck lets his packages sit and build up at the PO for a while before he delivers them.

Later…

I was right - no package. I’m just not meant to get mail from Paula B! This is the second thing she’s said she sent me that I didn’t get. Either she’s a very good liar, or it’s just not meant to be. I really think it was misdelivered, so Paula ought to call her local PO and get her money back. I’m totally hexed anyway when it comes to packages. Especially when there’s a doll involved.

Tom told me that Falling Star’s coming priority mail, not parcel post. So, if the woman mails her out today or tomorrow like she said she would, then it’s guaranteed to take only 2-3 days to get delivered. She should be here Saturday or Monday, but we’ll see.

A city van’s next door again. Can’t tell if it’s the same van, but I saw a different guy over there. He was at the water control that’s in the front yard, maybe turning the water on or off.

Later…

The van’s still over there. Must be a big job. The freeloaders no doubt trashed the place.

I set Bailey up in a totally new pose and new place. I brought a stool out and put it right by my computer. At first I had Rapunzel on it, but then I put her in Bailey’s usual spot on the stereo speaker by the TV, then put Bailey on the stool by the computer. I have one of her hands reaching out for my pen holder. It looks really cute. I still can’t believe how beautiful and realistic this doll is!

I just left Paula, who’s never punctual about returning phone calls, a message. At first, a friend of hers answered saying Paula was out, so I asked that she ignore the phone and let me call right back and leave a message. I let Paula know the package never came.

Yesterday after the dentist, we went to Palm Harbor’s factory lot. We met with a Spanish woman first, who talked too much and asked too many damn questions (had to ask twice if we had any kids), then we only saw one house, cuz this was a new lot that wasn’t fully set up yet. That was fine, though, cuz this was it. This was the perfect house! I loved its layout. The master bedroom is still separate from the other three bedrooms but in a different way. Usually, the other three bedrooms are at the end of the house with two next to each other and one across from them. These were all in a row, though, and what I liked was that the master bedroom and the room where I’d have my computer were away from where the TV would be (even though Tom and I both like headphones better).

The house was 2100 square feet and priced at $68,000. It had a retreat that was almost like a room that’s off of the master bedroom and a walk-in closet big enough to put two twin beds in.

What may be a plus to this place is that you can get a realtor to not only get you land for your new house but also sell your old house. As Tom said, if they had their way, our house would’ve been on the market as of yesterday. It was also nice that certain things were included in the base price that weren’t included in the bass prices of other models we’ve seen. ACs and dishwashers are included. Other things are, too. We’d even save money on this model. This model has 3 baths and we only want two.

Using three different programs, I scanned the layout in, then erased the furniture they drew in and put my own in.

It’s almost 4:00 now and the city van’s still here. My vibes don’t really say anything, but this isn’t a good sign - his working this long. Show’s he may be in a hurry so the new batch of rude, selfish assholes can move in.

No one’s discovered the lock yet. I’ve got two more locks to go, though, so if this one gets cut off, I’ll just try again. Unless they cut the net off. If they cut the net off, I’d have to get a chain to tangle around the hoop to block a ball from being able to pass through it, and since we should only have 3-5 more months left here, it wouldn’t be worth the time, money and effort. Thank God we’re moving this summer, though, and I hope that since God knows that we’ll be moving this summer, he won’t be so determined to get someone really noisy in there. I know, though, that we’re not gonna beat the new people and that it’s still gonna be noisier than most houses on this street, be it cuz of kids, dogs, or bass. That’s just my kind of luck.

Later…

The van just left. There were two people this time. I didn’t like how slowly they were backing out. I thought for a minute they noticed the lock in the net and were contemplating stopping to cut it out before leaving. So, they were there for about 2½ to 3 hours. I’d say, by the number on the van, that it was the same one that was there when I got up at 11:00 that didn’t leave till noon.

I don’t understand why the sudden pause in my metabolism. I swear to God - I just think of food and gain weight! I’m still 110 pounds and haven’t eaten hardly anything in the last two days. I did slip down to 108½, but not for long. That’s what I woke up at, and how I gained a pound and a half from a 400-calorie bowl of soup, water and coffee, beats me.

I can’t believe I’ve got my period now, although it’s not a full, regular period. I’m spotting. I would absolutely love it if my plumbing went on the fritz and needed to be removed so I wouldn’t have any more periods! Especially since I don’t want a child and know I’m not meant to have one, although I knew that for most of my life. At the same time, though, I don’t want to go through the pain and hassles of surgery. The fewer health problems and trips to the doctor, the better, but who doesn’t feel that way?

I still wonder what, for sure, is this monthly pain about. Why the same time every month? They say you can bleed a little when you ovulate, but I never have. I wouldn’t feel slight cramps in my uterus like I do right when a period’s starting if it were just a case of ovulation. Also, like I said before, you’re supposed to rotate from ovary to ovary. Since I’m hexed and controlled plumbing-wise, no matter how normal any test results are, maybe I’m suddenly ovulating on just the side that the pain’s been on and maybe the ovary wall is opening up more than normal and causing the pain. Maybe instead of releasing just one egg and rotating between ovaries, I’m now ovulating on just one side and a bigger hole is forming in the ovary wall cuz more than one egg is coming out. Maybe a lot of eggs are coming out.

If I prayed for my plumbing to fail and need removal, I wonder if God would grant me that. He might. I still can’t believe he never saw to it that I needed a hysterectomy years ago. This is the only thing that makes no sense and that doesn’t fit into his plans to keep me childless, like it or not, normal-appearing or not.

Anyway, I’m saving cranberry juice for if this happens again next time I’m almost mid-cycle. If this keeps happening for too many months, I may need to see a Dr.

Later…

I went and peered over the wall. My shit’s still next door.

I asked Evie how long the forwarding rules are and she said they forward mail for up to a year. Yeah, but can I trust this carrier to forward her mail? I hope so! If it’s meant to get to her, it will.

Saw bits and pieces of Titanic which is now on HBO. It was just as entertaining, scary, and sad as the first time I saw it.

I called Paula again, who was busy with a friend and who swears she’ll call me back at 8:00 my time, but if I don’t hear from her shortly after then, I’m not waiting on her. I’m gonna go listen to music.

MONDAY, APRIL 12, 1999 Believe it or not, I may have five dolls on their way to me counting Paula’s (if Paula’s ever gets here. There’s always a problem getting packages to me when there’s a doll involved)! We registered yesterday and had the winning bid on two of the six dolls we bid on and it looks like I’ll have the winning bid on another doll in a couple of hours! We even won where we lost, too. They had this beautiful Indian doll up for auction but we got outbid. Nonetheless, the lady selling her sent an email saying she had another one like her that we could have for our $46 bid. We bid between $20-$35 on the others. So far, we were the only bidders for the two we won and the one that I’m almost sure we’ll win today.

The Indian doll’s name is Falling Star, but I don’t know the names of the other three. She’s kneeling on a bearskin rug and has a nice outfit for being an Indian outfit. Most Indian outfits suck. She’s 12” kneeling.

The first one I won yesterday has green eyes and brown hair and is 22” tall. She has a burgundy dress on with white lace.

The second one has blue eyes (I think) and blond hair that’s up. She’s another ballerina doll with a gorgeous blue dress. She’s 16” tall.

The one we’ll win today has I don’t know what color eyes, and blond hair in two braids. She’s 18” tall. She’s wearing a floral dress of some kind that’s hard to describe without seeing it in person.

And I thought I wasn’t getting any more dolls till we moved!

Later…

Sixteen years ago. That’s how long it’s been since I jumped and broke my arm.

Anyway, to speak of more pleasant things - Falling Star should be here next Wednesday or Thursday, but for me, she’ll be here no earlier than next Saturday.

We still haven’t been able to get ahold of one of the sellers by phone that we got two dolls from. The last person we’ll be sending a check to because they’re not a business so we can’t use plastic on them.

We’re thinking of selling the other Giselle we got at this auction.

If I don’t get Paula’s package by Wednesday, I’ll call her and tell her to put a trace on it.

Tom made the appointment with the spit doctor for me to have my ear cleaned out, hoping that they’d be the ones to get the referral from Dr. Brown. Other doctors get through to other doctors better than we non-doctors do. However, the spit doctor’s office told us to get the referral. We tried for the second time, but haven’t had any luck. This is the third time they’ve said they’d call us back about a certain matter and they never did. I’m changing regular doctors. I’m sick of this shit. If you’re my doctor, I expect you to call me back when I need something.

I’m also getting fed up with the dentist’s shit. As I knew would be the case, the secretary left a message asking if I could come in at 10:45 instead of 1:00. I was pissed, cuz 1:00 would’ve been perfect for me. So I called back letting her know I was getting really frustrated. She said the doctor had crowns he had to do. Then why’d they schedule my fillings in at that time if he knew he had crowns to do? Stupid shits! And the sad part of it is, is that in just six months I’ll have to play this game all over again. I think that once the braces come off, it may be time to think about getting another dentist. I just hate to give up the quiet waiting room and getting in on time.

Got some really nice new screensavers for a change. It was time for more variety. I got cats, dogs, waterfalls, and psychedelic screen savers that are really cool. Tom also installed a utility that allowed me to delete screensavers I didn’t like.

This is really weird. Totally curse-like. Like something’s hexing my mice. Well, some of them. Anyway, now Patch has a tumor developing. It’s in the same spot; on the hip. It can’t be hereditary cuz Cocoa and Patch aren’t related. Spot wasn’t related to Patch or Cocoa, either.

Unbelievably, I didn’t get a call from Andy all weekend. He didn’t even respond to my message I left last night telling him about the dolls I won, but that may’ve been cuz he was jealous that we have that much money to spend on stuff like that. This is nothing new for him. Whenever I leave messages about something really neat we got, I don’t seem to hear from him right away, and when I do, he never mentions it. He doesn’t mention most of the things I tell him anyway, cuz he’s either too stoned to remember them, or he just doesn’t care. Too wrapped up in himself.

Not that I’m complaining, since I’m not a phone person, but can Andy sense what’s coming to him? I wonder if he subconsciously senses that I plan to faze him out of my life when we move, cuz ever since I made up my mind to do so, he’s backed off.

The freeloaders haven’t come near the house or called, so unless they’re thinking about waiting a few months to try to look less obvious, which I highly doubt, they really are a thing of the past, and guess what? I was in their house today.

I saw a city van over there, so I went over there. A guy all by himself was there. I asked if the house was sold, or re-rented. He said he didn’t know anything about it. Just that they didn’t have new people at the moment ready to move in. I asked to see the layout, and it sure is different, but it’s not a two-bath. It has just one. The layout’s much nicer than ours, except that they don’t have the nice big room we’ve got in back. The bathroom’s longer, and so’s the living room. I like how the kitchen’s in sort of an alcove-like area. Also, I like how you can’t see into the bedrooms and kitchen (just the eating area) from the living room. I like how the rooms aren’t as connected as ours. We have such a little L-shaped hallway where our bedrooms are that one of the bedrooms is practically an extension of the living room. From their living room, the bedrooms are down a straight hallway. They had these mini sunken shelves in one of the living room walls. It may be nicer than this house, but it sure as hell is a dump compared to what we’ll be living in this summer!

Just like I attract the sexual weirdo, I attract the paranoid. Tom’s almost as paranoid as Andy. He said not to ask workers over there too many questions about the house so as not to attract attention to us. Like we should care? Who gives a shit who’s paying attention to us as long as they don’t do anything to us and we don’t do anything wrong?

I’m sure it won’t do me any good, but I asked Evie if David could get me the bitch’s new address (not in those words, naturally). I also asked if we were right about mail being forwarded for up to six months. Watch. With my luck, she’ll reply saying that they just changed the forwarding rules to three months.

I can’t believe I’ve spent a whole year being hungry most of the time and struggling as I have just to lose a lousy 15 pounds. I realize more and more that I not only would have to starve to get down to 100 pounds, but I’d have to keep on starving just to stay there. At this age, as soon as I had just one bite, I’d fly right back up to 110 pounds. Until the time comes that I let my body have the food it needs and craves, even if that’s 3,000 calories worth a day and 50 more pounds, it has to be all or nothing. Trying to minimize my food just doesn’t work, cuz one bite leads to another and another and another, then before I know it I’ve had 1,500 calories that day. That’s a good 500 too much to be losing weight on, so it’s either don’t eat at all or eat what I need to eat since I can’t puke up my food. I don’t see how that would do me any good even if I could, cuz if I ate, satisfied my hunger, then lost it, wouldn’t I just be hungry all over again? The way to lose weight and keep it off, and the only way to lose weight and keep it off, is total or near starvation. I have to ask myself - do I want to look like shit or feel like shit? I feel like shit when I don’t eat, but I’ll really look like shit if I do eat and gain weight. Then again, I look like shit right now at 110 pounds. I look like I’m 125 pounds. I’d have to get down to 90 pounds to look like I did the last time I was at 100 pounds.

Later…

I just called Andy to see if he wanted to talk. Sure enough, he had a mouthful of food when he picked up. So I let him finish eating while I went to make coffee and said I’d call him back in five minutes. But then when I called just now, he didn’t answer. Guess he’s still stuffing his face.

Later…

I spoke with Andy for about an hour. God, he is so hard to talk to! He keeps budding in, and where are his brains? This guy’s not exactly stupid, yet he couldn’t get half the things I said. What made it harder for him to understand things I’d say were his constant interruptions so I couldn’t even finish explaining things to him in the first place.

He asks why I get upset that he brings up God every single time we talk. It doesn’t upset me, it just gets old. He has a right to talk about what he wants to, though, even if I disagree with half the things he says.

Michelle’s finally lucked out with this feminine, stable schoolteacher. She’ll get dumped. It’s just a matter of time.

Andy had a friend named Wendy whom he met here that moved to New Hampshire. He says she’s gonna drive out in her van the third week in May and together they’ll drive back there. After about a week, he’ll fly back here. I’ll believe it when I see it.

SATURDAY, APRIL 10, 1999 Took the phone off the hook to give me a break from the slew of sales calls we get that are now even coming on Sundays. The one and only day I had to look forward to being free of these calls. Also, Andy didn’t call last weekend, so you can bet your ass he’ll make damn sure he does today, no doubt with food stuffed in his pig of a mouth.

This has got to be the most stress-free weekend I’ve had in a long long time! No freeloaders! No freeloaders to slam doors, bass the house walls, scream and yell, thump balls! I love it! God, please keep that lock on that hoop and the place empty till we move!

Tom was shocked they didn’t come to clean last week and wondered what the point of waiting was. I wondered that, too. Maybe they’re planning on selling it, cuz you’d think that if they were keeping it as a subsidized house, they’d be in a hurry to get the next batch of assholes in there pronto, what with how the waiting list is so long.

If the freeloaders are gonna do anything to the house, although I don’t sense it and I highly doubt it, it’d be this weekend, since that seems to be when these sick fucks have more time, and I know these assholes are still in the valley, judging by how long it took the cock to make trips back and forth. They’re probably no more than 15 minutes away.

I still can’t believe they moved! Their rude antics are over. They’re really over. Now all I have to do is wait and see if we get rude, loud renters, or an owner with a dog or two that never shuts up. I know there’ll be kids in the package either way. The mistake turned out to be OK to live next to. It was all her little cousins or whoever the fuck all the kids were that came over to play ball that was a problem. Meanwhile, I don’t have a bad vibe coming from next door, so if the next people really are noisy in any way, I guess they’re not due in anytime too soon.

God, just please let the bitch get my stuff when we move!

Tom and I had our usual cumless sex this morning. I forgot the KY, so I was a bit dry. I swear I’ve really dried up down there! I wonder, though, if something’s wrong with me. Shouldn’t I be upset that sex has become so mechanical? I mean, we just go through the motions at this point without any real feeling. I guess I’m OK with it cuz he’s OK with it. Besides, you know how he is when it comes to sex. He’ll admit to almost any non-sexual problem and even try to do something about it, but he’d never see this as a problem, let alone admit it and seriously try to fix it. That’s another way I can tell he’s deliberately afraid to cum. If it were truly out of his hands, wouldn’t he want to get help? Wouldn’t he want to try to fix the problem if it were truly a “problem?” To me, though, this is good cuz once again, it not only keeps the sheets clean, but it’s still better not to hold that gun to one’s head, even if you know it’s unloaded. So, even though I know God’s on my side and that it’s not destined that I conceive, why take risks? If I want out of my so-called womanly duties and if I want freedom in this life, it’s only fair I do my part and not stick it all on God, even if God’s supposed to be able to do everything and anything.

Woke up yesterday at 106 pounds, and sure enough, I couldn’t shit. My body’s definitely resisting going under 105. It does everything it can to get back up to 108-109 which is usually by holding onto its shit.

I don’t know what the real package deal is with Paula. She’s a lot like Fran. Remember how Fran said that if you were 16 you were born in 1985? Well, Paula says she mailed the package last Friday when we spoke, so I should’ve gotten it a week ago. No, Paula, I shouldn’t have gotten it the exact same day you sent it. She said she got the thing insured, though, so that’s good.

I’ve got my leg weights on now, but sometimes I have to take a break from them cuz of the pressure they put on my ankles.

When we move, I’ll be walking again on the walker daily. I’m also trying to be consistent with exercising my upper body every other day and my lower body every other day.

Tom found a “spit doctor” online for me to see to have my ear cleaned properly. He should have the same knowledge as Nielsen. His name’s Daspit.

He also found this great auction online with dolls. You can get three 16” dolls for just $20 or $30! Even less! It seems that most of their dolls are 16”. Haven’t found any biggies yet. I may sell dolls this way in the future, too.

Later…

I don’t fucking believe this, but this is the third month in a row I got a UT infection right before mid-cycle! Is it truly a UT? Something else? Is there a connection to the timing? I don’t see how it can be my ovary. It’s too high, and besides, aren’t you supposed to not feel ovulation, and rotate ovaries every month? Well, all I can do is live with it and hope for the best. I’m drinking lots of cranberry juice.

Later…

Today the renters made up for the freeloader’s lack of door slamming. I’ve never seen so much company over there! Thank God they’re across the street and not next door. There had to have been 20 people, both adults and kids and about 7 vehicles and 2 motorcycles. I can’t believe there wasn’t any music of any kind.

Tom’s taking a nap right now. Earlier he went to Sears and got a sandblaster, a drill, and some other things. He got himself a camera bag yesterday.

He filled in the two holes in the back room ceiling. He did an incredibly good job so amazingly fast. Just maybe it won’t take longer to prep after all.

I got what I wanted by backing up my schedule to make it easier to get to my Tuesday appointment (unless they cancel) but not without a real doozy of an allergy attack. Yesterday was one of those days I have every one to two weeks where I just can’t stop sneezing. I had gotten up at 10 AM, and by 4 PM I wimped out and took a Benadryl. It didn’t knock me out, though, or dry up my nose. It just dried up my mouth and made me groggy. I still sneezed periodically, so at 8 PM I took a second Benadryl and was asleep by 10 PM. I got up at 6 AM. The good thing throughout it all was that my lungs were so open. I swear, if it isn’t my nose, it’s my lungs. If my lungs aren’t tight, they’re congested.

Tom and I were browsing online for screensavers. I got some really beautiful colorful ones, and one with pictures of waterfalls.

He told me the name of another search engine I may want to try out. Yeah, but as soon as God sees me doing a no-no by looking for pictures of Gloria, or whatever other women, crash it goes.

THURSDAY, APRIL 8, 1999 Tom left me a message saying he’ll support whatever I choose to do as far as Art goes, and not to sound defensive of Tammy, but it’s in Tammy’s nature to be a pessimist and hype things up to the worst possible case scenario (concerning her saying he’s ill). True. She’s even more of a pessimist than I am. Tom says to remember that he will die someday, so as long as I’m at peace with whatever I decide, that’s what counts. True again. My being in contact with them won’t keep Art from dying, though. We’re all gonna die someday. And yes, I’m at total peace with myself for cutting these people out of my life. No matter how old or ill they are, they’re still detrimental to my mental health. Even if we could all get along from here on out, which could never be a fact, the horrible memories that are attached to these people are things I don’t need, and I could never fully trust these people again. My life here with Tom in Arizona is too wonderful to mar with these people of the past that I associate with rather traumatic events. Tom and I may still have problems in life like everyone else, but what I’m at peace with is moving this summer, being with Tom forever, and not having anything to do with Dureen, Art, Larry, Tammy, and Andy. I understand, though, that some things are subject to change. The doll-making may bomb and Tom may continue to have shitty job luck. However, whatever happens is God’s will, I believe, and for a reason. I’ll keep in touch with Paula, but I’m not going to give Bob our new address/number. I may not even give them to Kim either cuz once again, I respect my husband and I don’t want to risk trouble for us. I want to stick around to see if Kim will get her lifelong dream of having kids, I love most of the jokes she sends me, but once again, it’s a matter of weighing the pros and cons. It’s more important that I don’t chance her coming between us than it is for me to get her jokes and watch her dreams come true or be denied by God. Kim and I don’t have much in common and this is someone I’ll probably never see again. Even if she lived next door to me; she’s never home, so we wouldn’t have much of a friendship. I’ll just wait and see what I feel like doing when we move. I think, though, that it’d be best for me to basically start over with a clean slate. New house, new land, new people, new life, so to speak. Tom’s not gonna be someone I met after moving and I’m still gonna be me, but you know what I mean. If I make a new friend after moving, and that friend’s good to me, then fine. Meanwhile, I could sit and write the cons to my family all day and have any pros written in just seconds. With Tom, it’s just the opposite. There’s no comparison. His biggest faults are that he makes disgusting noises when he eats, snores, is a disorganized clutter-slob and is a dysfunctional bore sexually (except for when he goes down on me). Big fucking deal, huh?! Meanwhile, I could be here until our anniversary writing his pros.

Later…

I’m having trouble controlling my food. I’ve been having between 1500-2000 calories per day, and already, my weight’s slowly but surely climbing. Woke up at 110 pounds today and I could be back to 125 pounds by June. No problem. I realize more and more that getting down to 100 pounds is just a dream that’ll never happen unless I agree to nearly starve myself day after day after day. I ask myself again - is this worth it? Shouldn’t I just live life, eat when I’m hungry, and say so what if I gain weight? But how much would I gain? How much higher than 125 would it go? To 135? To 200?

Later…

Just let Shiny in to do some eating. Changed my mind about writing now. I want to go clean some wall hangings I packed, so they’ll be clean and ready to go in the new place.

Later…

Didn’t clean the wall hangings yet, but I sure did do a lot of other stuff. Tom was impressed. The closet that’s off the utility area in between the kitchen and garage was cluttered with a bunch of shit. So I junked what we didn’t want, and vacuumed it out really well. The city’s gonna have a field day with all the shit I threw over the wall.

Tom suggested the possibility of the bitch moving cuz she suddenly couldn’t pay her rent. If she couldn’t pay up, I’d think Bill or someone would’ve helped her. I think her time was up and that she had a 3-year lease. I’m surprised the city’s not anxious to get the house ready for the next tenant. Tom says that it’s not too easy to get a crew over there, so maybe they have to wait till a certain time to fix it up. I wonder, though, if this is a sign that they plan to sell it because, with the huge waiting list for those in need of subsidized housing, you’d think they’d be in more of a hurry to get it ready.

It’s gonna be so nice this weekend not having to worry about the freeloaders and ball games! I just hope to hell she gets my shit when we move!

I took down the old screen door in back, so that’s one less thing Tom will have to do, even if it’s a quick and easy job.

Tom’s fed up at work. Well, he’s been fed up, but he really let his boss know it today which he said felt good to do. He’s tired of all the overtime they’re throwing at him. He’s sure he can find a job where he only has to work 40 hours a week, and that this guy will ease up on him and then help him find another job within the bank since he has no one to replace him with, but I don’t know. I think it’s just destined that Tom works overtime no matter where he goes. Thank God there are laws, though, as to how many hours a person can work, or else this user he’s got for a boss would make him work 14-16 hour shifts. Again, though, we’re all pretty much compensated for the shit we go through, and every burden has its blessing. Meaning that we’re in for one hell of a paycheck! Still, they’re tiring the hell out of him and taking time away from him that he could spend doing other things. I worry about him. First I feared his mother would kill him and now I fear his boss will. Of course, I always fear God will take him away from me, too. Well, if God kills him, he’s gonna have to deal with me too, cuz I’ll be hanging in no time. Even if I could have all the money and stuff in the world; life isn’t worth it without him. I’d be too miserable to enjoy any house, money, or material things.

I’m just so glad God didn’t let us have a kid back when I wanted one, cuz we wouldn’t be where we are today. We’d have to wait 5-10 more years to move, I wouldn’t have these dolls or be going into doll making, and on and on and on.

I guess Minnie finally gave up on trying to call.

I put in a prayer for Kim to have the kid she wants (watch, God will grant my prayers for another woman to have a baby, but not for my own baby a few years ago) and although God seems to have a problem with allowing kids to go to people who’d make great mothers, I think she’ll have them. I don’t know if it’ll be by way of in vitro or adoption, but she’s got the looks, the money, and nothing that I can think of to stop her except for God. I know there are a few good-looking women who have kids, but I also know a pattern when I see one. It’s usually the fat, plain, or ugly ones that end up with kids.

Later…

Tom says I’m foolish to worry about this, but I know how destructive kids are. Therefore, I’m gonna put these dolls on high shelves or in boxes when it comes time to show the house. I know disrespectful parents will be coming in here with rowdy kids that the parents won’t keep tabs on. They’ll act like the kids are not even there while they tear the place apart.

I fazed Alex out of my email and buddy list. I hardly ever talk with him, and again, what’s the point? I know that to an outsider I’d seem like a cold person by dumping all these people, but trust me, I’m doing the right thing. I know I am. The only two that I’ll feel a little guilty over are Andy and Lisa, but what has to be done, has to be done.

No package today. I believe Paula when she says a package is on its way. Just by the way she said it, I highly doubt she’s lying. However, I think that if it didn’t get misdelivered, the ditz addressed it wrong. This is, of course, unless it’s parcel post and too soon to be here anyway. I left her a message about it.

WEDNESDAY, APRIL 7, 1999 Tom did lock the net. I don’t know how securely, though. I get a nagging feeling deep in my gut that he may’ve made it easy to undo. Sometimes I think he gets a kick out of seeing things annoy me! Anyway, he was worried it’d draw attention and cause someone to do something about it, but I think that’s just his way of upping the chances of me wondering more often if someone will undo it, not that they might not anyway. I think that if the lock isn’t undone before, it’ll be undone when the new family moves in. And they’ll do it that day. The very day they move in. They won’t wait a week or a month or whatever. He said he couldn’t lock the net to the rim cuz it was too far of a stretch and that he couldn’t reach the rim like I thought he could. Maybe it is too far of a stretch to hook the net to the rim in a way a ball can’t go through, but why can’t he reach the rim? It looks like he can, anyway. Then he said something about having trouble locking the lock cuz it was old. This made me wonder if he deliberately didn’t lock it, but we’ll see. He doesn’t have to worry about it drawing attention. I can barely see it from the window. The rusted lock blends in really well with the rusted chain. The smaller lock would’ve shown up more, cuz it’s silver.

Later…

It’s barely 10:00 and already there’s been two sales calls. It is unfuckingbelievable! Today’s call came as early as 8:10. It’s gonna be so hard on me when I’m on nights, yet have to answer the phone in case it’s the Realtor wanting to show the house. I’m gonna be woken up a dozen times throughout my sleep. It’ll be just like the NHA! At least I don’t have to do that two dozen times a day for 4-6 months like I would’ve had if we had a kid. According to Tom, they’re doing this to everyone everywhere, and changing our number to an unlisted number won’t really curb the problem, cuz they dial randomly. If we got an unlisted number and he stopped giving our number out to everyone, then why wouldn’t it make a significant difference? Andy doesn’t get 5-10 calls a day. Andy doesn’t own a home and has a lot of magazine subscriptions or credit cards either, so I guess that makes a difference. Tom says they’re driving Mary crazy. She too, owns a house, has credit cards, and a listed number that’s been given out to the whole world.

I saw a nice white older lady out front planting something about five houses down. Now why couldn’t I have a nice lady like that, who’s no doubt quiet, with kids on their own, if she has any at all, living next to me? Why is it that of all the people on the block, the noisiest, rudest ones have to be next to me? If it isn’t Mormon chaos, it’s black trash. Although, this nice white older lady could have noisy grandkids that visit a lot, and a barking dog. I doubt it, though. Several of the houses right around ours are quiet as far as bass, kids, dogs, and constant vehicles go. If someone moves in before we move, and they probably will, God may not have them be as noisy as he normally would have if he knew we were staying here.

It’s hard to believe it’s all over. I no longer have to worry about some bass-thumping freeloaders next door waking me up. Not unless a new set of bass-thumping freeloaders moves in. It’ll be nice to be able to relax this weekend and not have to worry about what next door may do, and as far as I know, I don’t have to be interrupted by a ball game next door, even if there hasn’t been much hoop activity in about a year. Just these fucking sales calls! It’s not even 11:00 and there goes call number three.

Later…

I guess I misunderstood Tom. Yes, changing our number to an unlisted number and not giving it to anyone we don’t absolutely have to give it to will make a difference, but having this number unlisted won’t. Meanwhile, I took the fucking phone off the hook after the sixth call.

I just took my nosy little ass over to spy in the freeloaders’ yard. I still call it “the freeloaders’” place, even if it was never truly theirs. I pulled a chair up to the wall and stood on it so I could see over. What a tiny clothesline and even their patio seems smaller. Their yard is almost grassless. It’s like a dirt yard with a touch of grass. They have more space between the left side of their house and the block wall, so that may help to not amplify noise as much from the collies and from whatever, although you gotta be able to hear those dogs just fine, even if the wall’s not as close and even if they do have double-paned windows. The dogs are just a few feet away from their house. The reason they have more space between the bedrooms and the block wall is cuz they’re not on a corner. At one point the block wall curves in if you’re on a corner, but all the yards and houses are the same size. The yards are longer than they are wide. They’re about 120’ long and about 60’ wide. The houses are around 30’-40’ wide not counting garages or carports. I wish I could really settle my curiosity and break in there and walk through the place and see its layout. It’s very different from ours. It started off similar, but then, instead of adding a huge big room in back, they split the master bedroom in two and took out a little part of the living room to make a second bath. Even their front door is different. It faces the side while ours faces the street.

Here goes a school bus. You know, I never see kids that live at the collie house get on or off the bus. All the more I think they’re Mormons and that the kids are home-taught. But they don’t have more than 3-4 kids. Maybe she couldn’t have any more than that and that’s why they do daycare to sort of supplement things, although I don’t know if they’re still doing it.

Another day of weird weather. Is it really April out there? It’s cool and windy out there today. The barometer’s not that low, though. It keeps going back and forth between sunny and cloudy.

Later…

I knew it. It just knew it. It was only a matter of time. I knew telling Tammy not to push Art and Doe on me would do no good and that she’d start pressuring me to “do the right thing” and contact them. She’s such a contradicting asshole, too. In one breath she says she’s not gonna try to persuade me one way or another, but then she does. She tells me not to get huffy on her, but then when she saw she wasn’t gonna get her way, she hung up on me saying, “Goodbye, Jodi. I don’t need this shit.”

Does she know they changed their number and that I don’t know the new number? That’s beside the point, though. The point is that I’m done with Tammy now. Not when we move. The first thing she says is that our father’s ill and that she’s just giving me the knowledge which is mine to do as I choose with it (all the while she’s implying otherwise). She says she’s not buddy-buddy with them and never will be. She says that she and the kids “did the right thing” by talking to them. Yeah, well, like I tried telling her before - if “doing the right thing” means talking to a person like he is, I don’t want to “do the right thing.” Period. I’m not obligated to him. Just because he’s my biological father does not mean I have to associate with him or anyone else I don’t exactly like. He’s not as bad as his wife is, but to do away with one you have to do away with the other, too. I just don’t want anything to do with anyone associated with Tammy G or Larry or Art or Dureen O. Period. My mind’s been made up since last what? August? And it’s going to stay that way.

At one point Tammy asked how I was gonna deal with him dying. I told her I’m sorry if he’s in any pain or suffering in any way, but that people do die. Meanwhile, life has to go on. She has to live her life her way and I have to live mine my way and if that means I’m the selfish one - tough shit! And if she’s talking about my being included in their will, I’m not interested, I told her. Then she said that wasn’t what she was talking about. She was talking about my dealing with it within myself. I already did that months ago. I did it in my head, I talked about it with Tom, and I wrote about it. I weighed all the pros and cons and went over the reasons why it was best that I ignore these people. I’m not stupid, either. I know that people eventually die.

So I suppose Tammy will “do right” by going to Art and Doe’s funerals. I’m telling you, she and Larry, or she and Ronnie, or all three, are gonna get into a fight that could turn deadly (I’m sure macho Marty will have to be a part of it too, if he’s there). I just sense it, and you know what? I don’t want no part of it. I’m done with that life and with those people.

Watch, now Tammy will use the kids to get me to respond to and acknowledge her. I wouldn’t be surprised if she called up crying that one of the kids was in a crisis. It’s something she would do. She’s done it with Larry to try to get his attention. With me, she’ll probably use Lisa, and call up and say that she’s depressed, and suddenly, I’ll be the only one who can do something about it. Well, I’m not gonna give her the satisfaction of a reaction or a response of any kind, in any way.

Lastly, I’ll bet anything that Art’s not that ill. He may be a 68-year-old man with a bum ticker, but I know how Tammy exaggerates when she either wants attention or to get you to do something. She’s exaggerated health issues with the kids, Bill, and even herself. Do you know how many times Tammy might’ve been and was terminally ill? She’s always got a “fatal” problem or one that might be. Meanwhile, I’m pretty sure Doe and Art have another 10-20 years to go. I’m not saying Art couldn’t kick the bucket right now cuz of his heart, or that Doe won’t die in a few years of lung cancer from smoking for 50 years, I’m saying it’s unlikely that they’ll go anytime soon, but they’re still a closed chapter in my life, regardless of when they die.

Tom showed me how to get the word find to work. It wasn’t finding words that were in documents. He also set it up so I could number pages again. That wasn’t working, either.

Later…

I got to missing Steve the other night. Steve H from Woodside Terr. I wish, if only for one time, that I could see him and tell/show him just how wonderful my life turned out, and introduce him to Tom. I hope the guy’s happy, wherever he is, whatever he’s doing.

Still no package from Paula.

The new TV Guide came, and every now and then I check the horoscopes out. Mine’s wonderful and Tom’s is pretty good, too. My sister’s hits it right on the nose. I’d mail it to her, but she’s not worth the effort.

Mine - You can wish upon a star this week and start turning dreams into reality. Close relationships will flourish, and even those who have opposed you in the past (you mean God?) can be won over.

Tom’s - Someone in a position of influence seems to believe you’re ready for a step up the ladder (must be at work) and is willing to support you. Such a chance must not be wasted, even if it means massaging the egos of those for whom you have little respect.

Tammy’s - Something you discover this week will make you realize that there’s more to the world than the view from where you now stand (love that line!). It may encourage you to travel further afield or to simply broaden your outlook. Either way, you’ll learn more about life…and yourself.

Later…

Finally talked to Kim. She sure had a hell of a time of it. She was so depressed. Walt was diagnosed with a brain tumor, so here they were, sure he was gonna die and that Kim would be alone again after finally finding someone. However, it was a mistake. It might’ve been a mild stroke or something like that, but he’s gonna live. What a horrible thing to have to go through. At least there was a happy ending to this sad story!

She’s gonna have Invitro sometime soon enough. Not cuz she can’t get pregnant, but cuz Walt had a vasectomy and has a low sperm count. It takes 3-4 tries and is about $10,000 each. I’m glad I decided to forget about having in vitro and I’m glad I don’t want a kid! Hope it always is that way, too! Meanwhile, it’s been her lifelong dream to have at least two kids. I don’t know if they have to use some other man’s sperm. Maybe not. I think a guy with a vasectomy still makes sperm. It just can’t get to the woman. I just hope God will let Kim have her dream!

Just finished one of the puzzles I got. This is the second puzzle that had an extra piece.

Well, I guess I’ll go finish out the rest of my day with my book. I’m halfway through Night Stone and it’s great.

TUESDAY, APRIL 6, 1999 I still can’t believe that bitch up and moved. Tom was teasing me saying how much I miss her and that I’m not happy if she’s there, and I’m not happy if she’s not there. If I don’t have to deal with bass or dogs from whoever’s going in there next, even though it wouldn’t be for long, and if the bitch gets my shit - let her be moved. I doubt anything will happen to the house since it would’ve happened by now, I suppose. I’m not too shocked that they didn’t mess with the house, but I still can’t believe they moved quietly and that I didn’t sense it coming.

The city hasn’t come yet to fix the place up. I wish to hell it could stay empty till we move, but if the city keeps it, it’ll be refilled fast. May 1st the new people should be coming. The new subsidized trash. However, if I had to choose between the city selling it and the city keeping it, I’d rather they keep it and risk having it stay empty till we moved, which could be the case if they sold it. This is cuz it’s easier to do something about any problems we may have with the new people if the city owns the house. If the people are renting from the city, it’s quicker and easier to get results by mailing the city a letter. If they own, it’ll be harder to deal with them. I can do something quickly about a renter thumping its bass than with an owner’s barking dog that never shuts up.

We screwed yesterday, but he just wouldn’t or couldn’t get into it, and the sex was brief (this confirms my belief that his saying I was the one who wasn’t into it the day before, was just an excuse to get out of it altogether cuz he wasn’t in the mood). The way he acted afterward was so phony and obvious. It was so obvious that he was trying to butter me up afterward by tickling me and insisting I had a mopey look on my face. Did he want me to have a mopey look on my face? It’s his dick. If he wants it in me semi-hard, cumless, and not for long, that’s his choice. I just hope to God I never want a child again, cuz all I’d get is his stubbornness and his resistance to get off. He’d never fully cooperate and do all he could do to allow us a kid, and so then I’d end up not just madder at God for not allowing me the right to choose to have a child or not, but mad at him all over again, feeling like he’s controlling and manipulating me and conning his way out of cumming and having a kid. He still swears he’s not consciously or subconsciously keeping from cumming. Sorry, Tom. No one gets off as rarely as you do without a reason. There’s no such thing as a guy being able to get hard with no problem without being able to cum. You either can get hard and can cum, or you can’t get hard in the first place, let alone cum.

Later…

I saw an APS truck pull up in front of the freeloaders’ and I stepped out and asked the guy if the house was sold. He said he didn’t know what was going on. He was just there to turn the electricity off. Yeah, I didn’t think he’d know what was going on. This is a good sign, though, saying they’re not anxious to do any work over there right away and the things I threw over the wall (I’m sure they’ll assume the stuff was the freeloaders'). It’s just a few old odds and ends. Nothing major. A couple of old plant holders, the old foam mattress, and some old chicken wire we had surrounding cactuses to keep Bunny away from them.

Later…

Tom has an old lock that’s bigger than your average padlock, and tonight he’ll lock up the hoop. This will be even better cuz now he can lock the net to the rim and make it harder to break through. Tom was being his usual paranoid self, suggesting it’d draw attention. I don’t think so. And even if it does, how would that harm anything? If attention is drawn to a hoop that can’t be used, so what? Maybe this was his last feeble attempt at talking me out of it. I just hope he really does lock the thing up and doesn’t make it easy to be removed, even if we only have a few months left here. He says he’s gonna do it tonight, but I’m prepared for him to stall a night or two, making some excuse as to why it has to wait.

I still can’t believe that bitch moved! See what I mean, though? They shut up, they move. It’s always after they finally shut up that one of us moves.

Spoke with Andy earlier who’s up to the usual - food, pot, God, phones, music, and TV. He said he was slutting up a storm earlier, cruising the neighborhood and hitting on everything with a dick. Then he said he woke up the next day and realized he doesn’t need to be a slut with all the diseases out there, and that he has more class than that.

Later…

That was the fourth fucking sales call today and today I was in the mood to tell them off, but these last two hung up on me as soon as I picked up, suggesting maybe it’s Jenny C or someone with the last name O.

I’m having a lot of boredom spells lately. I can only read, write, and do puzzles so much. Maybe I should start a story. It’s just that I’m embarrassed by my writing and aren’t the greatest storyteller. I’m not as shy about my journal writing, but I am about stories. I regret ever sharing any past stories with anyone. I cringe with embarrassment at the thought of it. The only kinds of stories that appeal to me as far as writing one goes involve lesbian lovers. Romance novels, only it’s two women and not a woman and a guy.

Three black boys in their early teens just went around the corner thumping a basketball. I cannot believe they didn’t stop to play next door!

The kids, by the way, are in school. They do go on vacation sometime in April, though.

MONDAY, APRIL 5, 1999 Let me back up to Friday. Friday, we went to look at manufactured homes again at that place that has more than one brand. They didn’t have Shultz, though (the first ones we saw). They had Cavco, which was at the second place we went to, Palm Harbor, and Redman. We picked out a Redman house as our number one choice and a Cavco as our second choice. Palm Harbor, though, has these really cool-looking shelves built into the living room walls. They’re optional and called accent walls. They also have a lot of things I’m not sure what you’d call, but they’re high shelves/beams and would be great for plants and stuff like that. So, we narrowed down our favorite floor plans, then compared features between the different brands.

The guy there was so obnoxious yet so funny. Tom and I were laughing about him afterward. As obnoxious as he was, he was a very soft-spoken, easygoing guy. The last kind to go raping/beating a woman, and I was pleased to see he was a family man by the pictures he had in his office. This may not be God’s ideal type of man for a father, but I think the world needs more guys like this as fathers.

The obnoxious part of him was that he asked too many needless questions and he talked in slow motion. He also took forever answering questions and he’d sometimes dodge answering the question fully. He’d dance around the subject when I’d ask him the price of a certain model.

The funny part of him was that his expression never changed. He had a fixed grin on his face. Even after a minute or two of silently walking to a model, he’d still be grinning as if someone just said something so hysterically funny.

Then we went to JB’s for lunch, and oh my God! What a big mistake to go during lunchtime. The food was good, though, even if it was a bit greasy, but as my luck would have it, I was seated right next to a baby that screamed bloody murder. It was ear-piercing, brain-splitting loud, and neither of its parents seemed to give a shit or make an attempt to quiet the thing, although what could they do? A child is like a wild animal that cannot be tamed. Not for the first five years, anyway. I’m so glad I don’t want a child and that I can’t conceive whether or not one of us is sterile. I asked that we be moved and sure enough, the thing quieted down after we were moved several tables away.

Then we went to the grocery store, which also has a little department store connected to it. I got a purple T-shirt dress, a couple of cute puzzles, some different scents for my plug-ins (the vanilla smells like baby oil), a big long pink pillow for great back support, a pretty butterfly 3-D soap dispenser, and I think that’s it. The soap dispenser is clear plastic with butterflies on it. Then they inserted a clear plastic card inside with more butterflies and it looks nice. We looked at their soap dispensers, bathroom pails, and other things and they sure had some nice stuff. One of the bathroom pails they had was gorgeous. It had colorful flowers, mostly pink. I can’t wait to set up the new place! Can’t wait to pick out towels, bathroom accessories, dishes, etc.

Friday, Paula also called and I wonder if she’s gonna lose Justin, although I highly doubt it. If I weren’t her friend, maybe so, but since I am, God just has to keep that thing whining in the background while we talk. Every single fucking time we talk, it’s there! Anyway, she said they found a knife on him at school. Paula said they said it was a steak knife, but she says it was a butter knife he used to cut Play-dough with. But why would he need a knife of any kind to cut Play-dough with?

She said that what I said would happen came true about the guys in her life fucking her over. Part of seeing that was logic. You don’t need to be psychic to know what kind of guys Paula attracts.

Wonder if I’ll get the package she says she sent today. She seemed sincere enough and I can’t picture her lying about something like that. All I have to worry about is that she addressed the thing properly and that the mailman lets me have it if she did. She says she sent pictures (that were on their way when we talked on Friday) and that porcelain doll too, which she said is “arm’s length” for just $7. I think it’s really about 6”-8” tall, though, like the ones we saw for $7 in Walgreens.

Paula also says she’s gonna use some guy’s sperm to fertilize one of her eggs (she had her tubes tied) cuz she wants a little girl who looks like her that she’ll name either Nakita or Selena. Wait till she finds out this procedure costs many thousands of dollars and that her insurance doesn’t cover it.

There’s no for sale sign next door, but I wonder if there will be. That’ll depend on if the city chooses to sell the house.

I was out dumping garbage earlier. The two dumpsters in our alley were chock full and looked like a lot of the stuff in them came from the freeloaders. I saw that they put a table in the alley just outside their gate, and there’s some stuff on it, too.

Saturday Tom replaced the two broken light fixtures that were in the kitchen and utility area with new fixtures and fluorescent bulbs.

Saturday he also took out the old, ugly cast-iron sink from the bathroom and put in the nice new sink/cabinet. It’s so much nicer. There’s just one knob and you push it up to turn the water on, right for cold water, left for hot, and down to turn it off. It’s washerless, so it doesn’t drip. Next, we have to do the walls in there and put the vent in.

Yesterday’s attempt to screw was a bust. I just couldn’t get him firmed up. He said I seemed to be distracted and distant. That’s possible, but I thought I was getting him hard by hand and ready for sex the same way I always do, and I wondered if he was just using this as an excuse cuz he wasn’t in the mood. I wasn’t in the mood, so it turned out OK, and he didn’t appear deprived in any way.

Tell me I’m not hexed sexually and I’ll tell you you’re crazy. Already, one of the vibrators sort of broke on me. It suddenly died and I thought it was completely broken. I put it in the garbage before bed, then when he came in, he took it out and fixed it. He said, though, it’s either high speed or no speed cuz one of the wires inside it broke. But why must there always be a problem with sex and with vibrators? Can’t God just leave it alone? Just let me be sexually, God, just let me be. If I were smart I’d ditch Tom and the vibrators and just use my hand. It’s the only thing I can count on unless it gets chopped off in some accident.

Also, it’s not gonna cost $15 to mail the bitch’s shit to her. It’s gonna cost $3.20. Tom reminded me that you can send anything between a pound or two for $3.20. So, it’ll cost $16 to mail the five manila envelopes I’ll be mailing when we move. The bitch’s two envelopes and one for Andy, Larry, and Dureen and Art.

Tom’s gonna see about finding a doctor that knows ears like Neilson did so I can have my ear properly cleaned. It’s been bothering me lately and Tom could see it was clogged up. Don’t I have enough hexes, God? Hexed with the ears, the sex, toilets, cars, etc.

Later…

A kid of about 4 years of age is bouncing a basketball in the collie’s driveway. I suppose it’s a matter of time before she finds her way over to the hoop. The kids are on vacation this week, so hopefully Tom can get the damn thing locked up real soon.

SUNDAY, APRIL 4, 1999 I don’t believe it! I just don’t fucking believe it! The bitch next door moved! I didn’t even sense it either, and they’ve been so quiet about it, too. Why didn’t they bang up a storm and why didn’t I sense it coming?

Tom says not to worry, they won’t damage our house, and mail gets forward for at least a year when a person moves, so she’ll still get the writings that I worked so long and hard on for her. Well, I sure hope so! As long as nothing happens to the house and as long as she gets my stuff - fine. Let them move. Tom also says that even if they did do a little graffiti or anything like that, we have to paint the house anyway, so it’d be no big deal. I’m talking about them breaking windows or shooting at the house. That’s what I worry about, although I don’t have a bad vibe. Yeah, but can I trust my vibes anymore? I didn’t even sense this move. The two biggest questions that keep going through my head are why are they so quiet about it and why didn’t I sense it? Is this, combined with the fact that there were a million stereos to drive by yesterday, a bad moving sign for us? I still sense us moving this summer, but now, I can’t be sure of anything when it comes to moving. Tom says he’s 95% sure we can move this summer. Logically speaking, there should be nothing to stop us. Then, I’ll mail her the two manila envelopes I’ve got for her, then to do a test, I’ll send myself mail to this address to see if it really does get forwarded to me. There’s always a chance she didn’t leave a forwarding address and that she won’t get it, or will get it and won’t read my writings, and if that’s the case, it certainly wouldn’t be the end of the world, but after working so long and hard on it, I really would prefer that she gets/reads it.

I wonder why and where she moved to? It’s been exactly three years since she moved in. Could she have been on a 3-year deal with the housing people? Did he ask her to marry him? Is she moving in with him? Into another house? An apt.? And why was everyone so quiet about the move? Are they waiting for something? Are they biding their time for some reason? Maybe she’s still dependent on the city and that’s why they’re behaving. Tom thinks it’s cuz I’m not that big a deal to them and they’ve got better things to do with their time than harass me, and if they did anything to the house, it’d be too obvious that it was them.

I wonder, although I highly doubt they could’ve gotten evicted upon my third complaint, but I’d think that if that was the case the cock wouldn’t be almost smiling at Tom and that there certainly would’ve been some shit to go down around here by now cuz of it. I’m still not so sure the bitch and her cronies will still be willing to forget that I was the one that caused her to have to quiet down the music and have her boy toy move out, though. After thinking about it - wouldn’t I be pissed off at anyone who caused Tom to have to be away from me? You damn well better know I would be. I’d be furious and I’d want to get them for it somehow, some time, although I have to agree with Tom. They probably won’t bother with us.

Here’s how it went - at 9:30 yesterday morning, I saw a U-Haul pull up in front of the house. Just as the cock opened the door, Tom came in from the store and saw that the truck was empty, so that ruled out the possibility of him moving back in. I saw the cock looking at Tom, but not with any meanness. In fact, it was sort of a friendly expression. One that no doubt said, Glad to be leaving you. Now I can do whatever I want and be an asshole. Probably get away with it, too. The cock’s buddy showed up soon afterward in the Buick and spotted as the cock backed the U-Haul into the driveway. I also saw what I think was a dark green car pull in front of the truck, and some big black girl walk by. They loaded up for three hours. At 12:30, the U-Haul left and the cock returned at 3:30 with some little white guy with a mustache and a purple cap. I think the guy’s name was Dave, from what I heard. I heard him ask the cock if he had city sewer or septic tank and the cock answered city sewer. For a second I saw a blue Blazer and the bitch and the mistake. The Blazer wasn’t there long. Then, from there on out till at least 7:30 (I went to bed then) the cock’s car came and went as it took loads out of the house.

Today, the cock came at 9:00 with the little white guy (this is the first white person I’ve known them to associate with). A white van pulled in shortly after, 2-3 Mexicans jumped out, then cleaned the carpet. After the carpet was cleaned, they stood around chatting for five minutes, then the carpet cleaners left, followed by the cock and whitey, not too long afterward.

One of the living room blinds is now raised and I can see the living room surely is empty.

Tom agreed to take one of my old locks and lock up the basketball hoop on his way to work sometime this week. We’ll only be able to lock up the net part of it, but hopefully, no one will take the net off till after we move. If God’s on my side, he’ll spare me the ball games till then. It won’t be as easy to remove a metal link chain net, as it would be to just cut a nylon net.

Thank God I was on days this weekend, so I could spy on them and so I could sleep. I probably could’ve slept just fine yesterday, though. I never heard anything drop or go crashing around, but the carpet cleaning motor was a bit fierce. It’s got a serious rumbling sound to it.

Later…

I officially closed the freeloader’s file. I printed out most of what I wrote in my last entry and sealed up the bitch’s two envelopes (hers, Larry’s, and Doe’s and Art’s envelopes are now ready to go upon moving, except for Andy’s). Come this summer, she’ll hopefully have these forwarded to her (it sucks that I have to pay about $15 to mail this shit to her, but it’s worth it). I wrote in her file, though, that we were staying here now that she’s gone.

So what am I in for now? Will the place remain vacant for a while? Or will I get a new pack of subsidized freeloaders to have to deal with? Will the city sell the place to some nice white folks? Nice or not, will they have a dog I’ll have to listen to 24/7 just three feet away till we move? And how many kids? How often will cars be coming and going, and will there be any loud motorcycle-like engines? I just thank God we only have 4-5 more months to go, now that I’ve got to deal with yet another turnover over there. Although, in between the Ms and the freeloaders, the place was vacant for 6 months, so maybe it’ll stay that way till we move. Tom may be sure she’ll get forwarded her mail, but still, I wish she could’ve just stayed put for 4-5 more months to really be sure she gets my stuff and so I could save money getting it to her, too. If it’s to be a case of her moving and leaving the house alone, and her still getting my stuff, and being able to have the place empty till we move - then that’d be an even better deal. Especially with the hoop net locked up as an added bonus. I supposed the not knowing what’s to come next should be unnerving to me, but it isn’t. Maybe that’s cuz we’re moving.

Later…

I can’t believe Andy hasn’t called this weekend. Not so far, anyway.

Speaking of Andy, the day after his visit, I was about to tell Tom of his adventures with Stevie and Cheryl and told him that even though it was OK, the visit was all Andy, Andy, Andy. Just as I said that, the phone rang, Tom glanced at the Caller ID box, saw it said private, and goes, “Andy, Andy, Andy!”

As with Tammy, some guilt goes with my walking away from him. I know he’ll feel hurt at first, despite having not much in common these days. However, as I weighed all the pros and cons in my mind of staying involved with them, I still feel that the best thing to do would be to walk away.

Anyway, to finish my talk with Tammy. I covered the inevitable reunion with Dureen and Art, the asking that we visit, now let’s cover the shocking part. Tammy said I had to find religion and God at one point, and I thought she was joking. Tammy’s always been the least religious person I know. She said although she didn’t grow up with it, she’s been going to church with Mark. I asked if she was planning on conforming and she said she wasn’t going to till she was sure what she wanted.

I’m pretty surprised. I wonder just what she does in church and what she gets out of it. I’ll have to ask her some time what it does for her. I’ve never liked churches cuz of how they’re prejudiced. They badmouth gays and people who are different and send a message saying that if you don’t live by their rules, you go to hell. Tammy says it isn’t that way, but I’ve never seen or heard differently.

Looks like I got my rain wish after all, but why do I feel it’s only because they moved? I’ll bet if they were still here, it wouldn’t be raining. I can’t believe all this rain we’ve had.

SATURDAY, APRIL 3, 1999 Another Saturday on N. 21 Ave., but I don’t have a bad vibe. At least not for today I don’t. Also, although it’s doubtful, the freeloaders may not even be there. It’s too early to tell. The cock was here and Bill was gone as early as 1:00 yesterday. I had seen the cock’s trunk open at some point, then the cock left and came back. I then noticed the car seemed a little full, suggesting maybe, just maybe, they took off for the Easter weekend. I crashed too early to tell if someone was there at night last night.

Tom’s mom offered to buy him contact lenses. That’s very nice, but I sure hope she helps with the move.

Tom’s at the store now picking up stuff to prep the bathroom with. We also need to replace the kitchen and utility area light fixtures. They’re cracked. So he’s picking up odds and ends like that.

It’s not even 10:00 yet and there have already been three calls. One sales and two from Minnie.

Tammy called again and we talked. First of all, she did nothing wrong, but the things we discussed reinforced in my mind that making a clean break from her really is the right thing to do.

She brought up a couple of things I knew were only inevitable that she’d bring up sooner or later. Then she brought up something else that totally shocked me.

The first thing that I knew she’d bring up and that I knew I couldn’t be lucky enough to avoid forever, was wanting us to come for a visit since it’s easier for two people to go cross country than four or more. As I’ve written and as I’ve told Tom, who’s very supportive of me and of how I feel, I have no desire whatsoever to go back there. If it were a matter of snapping my fingers, being there, seeing them, introducing them to Tom, and showing him places I lived in, etc., then I probably would. However, I just don’t care to see her. I do miss Lisa and I’d love to see her, but seeing her isn’t worth everything else that’d come with seeing her. I mean, I’d have to go on a big trip, which I hate, worry about my schedule and being able to sleep, and worry that I’d run into Bill and kill him. I’d no doubt have to talk about people and subjects that I’d rather not discuss with Tammy, I’d have to deal with her pressuring me, her cigarette smoke, the unhappy memories that go with the place, and who knows what else?

I told her we’d be there in the fall or the winter, cuz of course, I certainly wasn’t gonna tell her that I plan on disappearing.

The other thing I felt would only be a matter of time is that from what she said, she’s already working Dureen and Art back into her life. Now, I don’t know how chummy they are, or if she’s on speaking terms with Dureen, but she’s sending Art a birthday present. At first, I thought she was joking when she mentioned it and asked if I was gonna send one. Then she actually came out and told me that I should cuz then I’d know I was doing the right thing. If sending a present to abusive people like that is doing the right thing, then I’d rather do wrong. I was really surprised to hear she was sending him a birthday present. I thought she said she was 100% through with both of them for what they’ve said and done to her for so many years. Me? If I’ve said it once, I’ll say it a thousand times - I’m 100% finished with them. Just cuz they created me, does not mean that I should be obligated to associate with them in any way shape or form after the years of abuse I took from them. I totally detest selfish control freaks who always have a problem with how people are, what they do, what they say, etc. I’d tell this to anyone and that’s that if you don’t like my husband or myself as we are, don’t bother with us, and don’t think we’re about to change our ways for you or anyone else. I also reminded her that I think it’s really sick when a parent pits one of their kids against another, and when they go to one kid about a dispute they had with another. It’s her life, but how can she send a present to someone who urged his son to call the state on her and who said and did the things he’s said and done to her and say she’s done the right thing? Well, to each their own, but I feel I deserve better than to associate with people like that, and I’d like to think I had self-respect by not doing so, too.

Tom brought up a very good point too, and I think he’s right. Sadly enough, though, this is human nature for most people, but money’s an issue here. When people get old and have money, they tend to stick around and put up with their abuse for it. Me? I’d rather be happy and with people who are supportive, non-selfish, accepting, and respectful. Tom said that Larry no doubt got the money for his business from Dureen and Art. I wouldn’t doubt it. That’s probably why he made a point of reuniting with them in 1993. Cuz he knew he wanted to go into business and therefore, why not get their help financing it? Isn’t it a little too soon, though, for Tammy to be kissing their asses and being all nicey? They’ve got another 10-20 years to go, sis. Is the money really worth putting up with another 10-20 years of abuse?

FRIDAY, APRIL 2, 1999 I can’t believe this weather! Yesterday would’ve been perfect for Easter Sunday. It rained all day long, and even when I got up a few hours ago, it was coming down in torrents! It went from being between warm and hot to being chilly and rainy. It seems like just when you think summer’s gonna work its way in, we go back to cooler weather. The wonderful thing of it all was that despite how long and hard it rained, not one drop leaked in here!! Not one!!

Tom says that if next door’s a normal family, they won’t do Easter here this year cuz they did it here last year. They’re not “normal” anything, and yes, they will. They know I can’t legally do anything about the ball playing, so why not? They’ll make sure they do it here on account of me.

Minnie tried calling again but didn’t leave a message. Kim did, though. I’ll call her today. I’ll call Tammy, too. I left her a message yesterday since it had been a while and she called back when I was listening to music. She said she was busy, she and Mark were opening a retail store, and the kids were fine. No illnesses or injuries? That’s good.

I can’t believe I woke up at 107 pounds today, which was what I woke up at yesterday, cuz yesterday I had to have had around 2,000 calories.

The Acutrim I tried was totally worthless in suppressing my appetite.

I like it when I accidentally learn new things on the computer. I discovered a way to bring up the statistics and all that on just my Word document files. That way I don’t have to weed through a bunch of shit I don’t use. I can delete files from here, too. What was weird, though, was that one journal file had 130 pages and 100,000 words, while another had 144 pages and 96,000 words. How can I have 4,000 fewer words with 14 more pages?

It’s so cool to look in the mirror and see even, white, non-smoker’s teeth!

THURSDAY, APRIL 1, 1999 I just went out back and could smell the rain in the air as soon as I did. The sky’s a mass of clouds and it’s drizzling out. I noticed the barometer was down when I got up at 2:00, but it will come up with the weekend. It really truly almost never rains on weekends, and if it does, it’s early in the morning. If I didn’t know any better, and if I believed in the power of prayer, I’d be on my knees begging God to have it rain all through Easter Sunday, but I know the weather will be perfect for a three-hour ball game, whether or not the bass is thrown into the package. If all goes as planned, we should have only two more big holidays here - Easter and Memorial Day. Once again, though, any day next door could be a major holiday and call for hours’ worth of ball thumping.

Although yesterday’s visit, not surprisingly, was Andy, Andy, Andy, it was a cool visit that I did enjoy. He didn’t call again or bring food, either.

I told him Tuesday would be a good day of the week for us to chat and that I’d fill him in some more on the houses then since I didn’t get a chance to tell him anything about it, cuz he had to leave for his appointment, although there really isn’t much more to tell till we know for sure what’s going on.

He was only ten minutes late and was baked, as usual. I should’ve known I was wasting my time by telling him that I hoped he’d visit sober. Remind me never to ask my “best friend” for a favor again!

He didn’t seem bigger like I thought he’d be, what with all the eating he does. Just in the gut. This is probably why the buttons popped off his shirt, too. I saw that they were in the gut area.

I first showed him my dolls, then the animals. He had trouble focusing, though, and I couldn’t get his attention to hold on to any one subject for too long. If I’d comment about the dolls, he’d ask about the rats. If I’d comment about the mice, he’d ask about objects in the back room. I was amazed, though, that he remembered Giselle, which I just mailed him a picture of.

Then he surfed the web while I sewed his buttons on. Then he went out back and smoked a cigarette. Then he came back in and told me about last night. He first asked me if I would write about it in my journal. I told him yes, and added to myself - and you’ll read it one of these days too. That’s still a maybe, though, cuz I don’t think Andy’s a big reader, and if he didn’t read the other journal - why read this? Maybe he will given the circumstances. It’s up to him.

It was when he went to tell me the Stevie/Cheryl story that he seemed to sober right up.

He said his friend Wendy from “New Hamster” called to tell him that it was just posted online that Stevie, a friend of Cheryl Crow’s, would be singing at Cheryl’s concert at an old high school in Phoenix that holds 2,000 people.

He called Barbara Nicks and asked if she knew Stevie was gonna be performing. She said no, and he told her he’d call her in a couple of days to let her know how it went. She asked that he call sooner, which he agreed to.

So he and Michelle went to the concert and traded weed for scalper’s tickets. They were $37 a piece if I heard Andy right.

On their way in, Michelle was told she couldn’t take her water jug in. Andy said he told her to just put it down and they’d get it when they returned while distracting the person so Michelle could weasel the jug in.

The concert then went on. Andy said he didn’t know most of the songs, but that Cheryl performed well and was really into it. At some point during the concert, he and Michelle got separated. Then Stevie came on in the end and Andy got to be the closest to her he’d ever been in his life (about 15’). He got 13th-row seats, but Cheryl kept everyone on their feet and I guess people were moving all around. He got right up to the stage. He said Stevie’s lost a lot of weight, and although she still had fat hands and fingers, she looked great. She wore an old, faded red pair of platform boots and her gold/brown hair was straight.

He said some fat guy with a bulging belly walked up to the front of the stage and just stood there staring at Stevie with no emotion whatsoever. Usually, when a guy gives a woman that sort of still, emotionless look, they’re raping or beating her within their minds.

Another weirdo was some girl up on the balcony who just couldn’t stop twirling around and around and around.

So after the concert, he hung around an area with a ramp that connected two buildings. About an hour and three cigarettes later, he saw Stevie with two relatives and a security guard shorter than she was, coming up the ramp. As soon as Stevie got within a five-foot range, he stood up from where he was sitting and said, “May I say hi to Miss Stevie Nicks?” She kept on walking, but called out, “Hi,” as she quickly glanced at him. Then he casually followed her a little way. Meanwhile, all the fans were in front of them several yards away, calling out to Stevie. From just behind Stevie, Andy yelled out to Michelle. Then Stevie and company got in a car and left.

He said he exchanged hellos with Stevie’s brother Chris, too, who went walking by at some point. I can’t remember what he said about this, but he gave him something. Some piece of paper that had to do with Wendy, but he didn’t make himself too clear about what that was all about.

Then shortly afterward, Cheryl and the same security guard came walking up the ramp (Cheryl was heading for her tour bus). Andy approached her when she walked by and told her she put on a wonderful show and was looking forward to a future album that she and Stevie were to produce together, and during the minute or two they spoke, the security guard was pulling her away from him and telling him he had his turn, while she was saying, “It’s OK. It’s OK,” and thanking him.

Then he decided he wanted a Cheryl T-shirt and asked the guy selling them if he’d be willing to trade for one. The guy asked what he wanted to trade, and after Andy hesitated in answering, the guy said, “You want to trade some hushables, huh?” So, Andy weeded his way into a shirt, and now he just may have one more customer to deal to and to risk ending up in jail with, although I can’t see it. Andy’s always been lucky when it comes to getting caught with shit. It’s amazing, though, that some cop didn’t pull us over for some reason during one of the many times I was in his car with him and that I didn’t end up going down with him, since he almost always has pot on him.

I told him I could imagine how much Michelle had to have envied him. He said she was quiet afterward, so he could tell she was jealous.

As always, Andy can’t get through a conversation without mentioning God, and he said he thanked God when he got home and told him he could die now. I got a kick out of that one.

Later…

Sometime next week, we’ll be going to look at one more manufactured home dealer, as I said before, then the next step will be to look for land. I just hope God’s with us, and that we don’t have to settle in a big way. It’s impersonal, so I don’t see why God wouldn’t help us. As long as the dream/goal is material, he usually has no problem with allowing it. I hope to hell we can find some decent land that’s already prepped, cuz that’d save us money that we could put towards the house, furniture, etc.

Tom says that the fact that our house is on the corner is a plus cuz then you don’t have neighbors on two sides of you. Really? I thought most people wouldn’t mind noise/neighbors and wouldn’t want the corner cuz of how people cut across it all the time.

It was my turn to have to reschedule my appointment with Mel and the Doc the other day. The appointment on the 7th was too early for Tom to get home and get me there, so I upped it to the 13th. Tisha understood and said it was only fair since they’ve had to reschedule on me.

Now there’s a blue/white Blazer at the renter’s that some guy and a little kid got out of. These people are just like the freeloaders - so many cars, so many people.

[sounmashnews]

[ad_1] GANDHINAGAR: Gujarat's ace shooter Elavenil Valarivan gave the hosts their fourth gold whereas Olympic silver medallist weightlifter Mirabai Chanu, path-breaking fencer Bhavani Devi and wrestler Divya Kakaran, lived as much as their high billing with yellow metals of their respective occasions within the thirty sixth National Games right here on Friday. The athletics area at IIT, Gandhinagar, nevertheless, was on fireplace, with as many as 9 Games' data falling throughout the course of the action-packed day. Munita Prajapati (Uttar Pradesh), daughter of a development labourer, and 17-year-old Parvej Khan (Services) have been the celebrities of the day, with Munita setting the primary report of this version within the Women's 20km stroll. She clocked a commendable 1 hour 38 minutes 20 seconds. Parvej Khan, then, did one higher, breaking the highly-rated Bahadur Prasad's 28-year-old Games report within the males's 1500m to the delight of the fraternity. He slashed practically two seconds off his private greatest time to win the metric mile gold in 3:40.89. 2018 Asian Games decathlon champion Swapna Barman, competing in Madhya Pradesh colors right here, claimed the ladies's High Jump report with a clearance of 1.83m whereas Praveen Chithravel (Tamil Nadu) made mild of a depleted Triple Jump area to win gold with a Games report effort of 16.68m. Damneet Singh (Punjab) within the males's Hammer Throw and Kiran Baliyan (Uttar Pradesh) in ladies's Shot Put additionally entered the report books. In the boys's 100m semifinals, Amlan Borgohain (Assam) additionally broke the National Games report, set at 10.45 seconds by Haryana's Dharambir Singh in Thiruvananthapuram in 2015. Amlan Borgohain, who has been in good type this season, stopped the clock at 10.28 seconds, two-hundredths of a second outdoors the National Record held by Amiya Kumar Mallick since 2016. Gujarat had lots to cheer although, with their Netball Men's group including a fifth medal after the Technical Committee awarded the bronze to them in addition to their opponents, Delhi, following a tie of their bronze medal play-off. Powered by Ankita Raina, Gujarat ladies's group continued their march into the tennis last with a simple win over Karnataka. They will begin favourites within the gold medal match towards Maharashtra on the Riverside Sports Complex on Saturday. The ladies's tennis group additionally stayed on track to defend its gold medal, defeating Karnataka 2-0 within the semifinals on the Sabarmati Riverfront sports activities advanced. Among the favourites, Bhavani Devi (Tamil Nadu) accomplished a hat-trick of ladies's Sabre particular person gold medals. Having barely slept after flying in from her coaching base in France and having carried the Tamil Nadu flag within the athletes' parade yesterday, she spent a productive day on the Mahatma Mandir, asserting her primacy as India's greatest Sabre fencer. Divya Kakaran (Uttar Pradesh) stopped a Haryana sweep of all six gold medals at stake on the opening day of wrestling competitors. She gained the ladies's 76kg class title, beating Haryana's Reetika within the quarterfinals and Rohini Satya Shivani (Telangana) and Rani (Himachal Pradesh) with a measure of consolation. Haryana males and Odisha ladies claimed the Rugby 7s gold medals respectively with victories over Maharashtra groups. Haryana scored a golden double in Netball, their males's group defeating Telangana 75-73 in a thriller that went to the wire and their ladies quelling Punjab's problem 53-49. The ladies's Kabaddi occasion will see an in-form Maharashtra square-up towards Himachal Pradesh within the last on Saturday. Both sides had a different journey within the semi-final spherical with Maharashtra successful at a canter towards Tamil Nadu whereas Himachal Pradesh had various tense moments towards Haryana. !(function(f, b, e, v, n, t, s) window.TimesApps = window.TimesApps )( window, document,

'script', 'https://connect.facebook.net/en_US/fbevents.js', );if(typeof window !== 'undefined') window.TimesApps = window.TimesApps [ad_2] Source link

[study-coffee-chicago]

Seasons of Med: Season 1: Glad I Didn’t Make it that Far (A Halstead brothers + Halstead sister! imagine)

Trigger warning: Talk of eating disorders

As always, I do not own any quotes from Chicago Med 1x04 that show up here!

Your age: 14

Jay's age: 28

Will's age: 30

"We should go to a movie," your best friend Emma suggested when you were sitting on the playground of Central Chicago's elementary school one summer day.

You had been coming here since it was pretty close to your house to be able to read without worrying that your dad would show up drunk. He wasn't violent, he was just rude, asking why there was no food and when you explained it was because he wasn't going shopping, he'd scoff and tell you to get a job if you wanted to eat. It wasn't your fault; you'd tried to get a job, but no one would hire you because you were only fourteen. Most places required that you be at least sixteen and the occasional place would let you start at fifteen, but only with very limited hours. And, the places that let you start at fifteen were too far away for you to walk to. You'd have to take the El...and that would turn out badly if Will and Jay found out, even though your dad wouldn't care in the slightest.

"Em, I don't have any money. I'm literally rationing out my feminine products at this point."

"Hey, just tell me if you need any. Me or my mom can get you some. Oh, and some neighbors of mine run a little kettle corn company. They're looking for some extra help on the weekends and they'll pay you under the table. I can give you their number if you want."

"Really?" Emma smiled and nodded. "Yes, please! And, you're the best."

But, what you didn't tell her was that you hadn't eaten since yesterday since there was barely anything in your house and that your cramps were killing you and because of all this, you were feeling nauseous.

"Let's go to the movies. My treat."

"I can't let you pay for me."

"Yes, you can. Best friends help each other out. Now c'mon, let's go." You sighed and closed your eyes as you stood up. "You good?" Emma asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just dizzy."

"You wanna go home?"

"No, no I'm fine. Just seasonal allergies from all the pollen," you lied.

"Okay, let's go."

You started to slow down as you got closer to the movie theater. "I'm so excited to see The Longest Ride!" Emma squealed. "Scott Eastwood is just mwah!"

"Yeah, but he's- he's a lot-- I gotta, I gotta sit down," you stuttered, starting to feel more lightheaded and seeing your vision become blurry at the edges.

"Okay, let's get to the front where you can sit on the curb."

You slowly started to make your way there, but it was too late. "Em- Emma," you slurred as you tried to reach for her as your legs gave out underneath you, and then everything went black.

"Y/N!" Emma yelled as she squatted down next to you and pulled out her phone.

Just then, everyone started running out of the theater shouting something about a shooting.

***

Will's pager went off as he was eating with Natalie and the rest of the team from a taco truck outside of Chicago Med. And, everyone else's pagers were going off, too, making it sound like alarm clocks that were all set for the same time. Then, Maggie ran outside.

"Shooting in a movie theater! Mass casualties! It's about to get crazy!" she yelled to the doctors and other nurses. "EMTs are four minutes out!"

Not even a second after she finished her sentence, an ambulance pulled up with lights flashing and sirens blaring.

"Check that!" Will yelled as he threw his food in the trash can. "They're here!"

Then, all of them sprinted into the hospital, their main focus now being saving as many lives as possible.

"Another maniac gone crazy in a theater," Will said as he put something over his scrubs to keep them from getting blood all over them. "Is this the world we live in?"

***

You slowly opened your eyes to be met with the white ceiling and an IV in your arm. You groaned. "Where am I?" you asked as you rolled over to see Emma sitting on a bench. "Are we in an ambulance?"

"You don't remember?" Emma asked.

"You passed out, sweetie," a female paramedic told you as she put a blood pressure cuff around your arm. "Luckily for you, we came pretty quick after hearing about the shooting."

"The shooting? There was a shooting?"

"In the movie theater," the paramedic answered you. "You were lucky you didn't go in."

"Guess so."

Your eyes widened as you realized they were probably taking you to Chicago Med. You couldn't let your brother know that the most likely reason for you passing out was that you hadn't eaten since yesterday. They'd freak out.

"Am I good to go when we get to the hospital? I feel fine." You were still nauseous, but that was better than being passed out.

"You passed out, we need to get you checked out at the hospital."

"But I feel fine," you protested.

"I understand that, sweetie. But you need to get checked out anyway to make sure that there wasn't something that made you pass out other than the heat."

"She's right, Y/N," Emma said. "You need to get checked out."

You huffed. "Fine." Maybe Will would be too busy to even notice you were there. And, you figured your dad wouldn't pick up his phone, so you could just sneak out undetected when the doctors and nurses weren't watching.

When you got in, you were met by Natalie. "Y/N?" she asked. "What are you doing here?"

"It's nothing. I just passed out. I'm fine, really."

"Shoot," Emma said. "My mom's here to pick me up. Said she doesn't want me here because of all the press since I'm not hurt. I'm sorry."

You waved your hand. "It's fine. Hopefully, I'll be getting out here soon, too. See you later."

"Bye, Y/N."

"If you passed out, you're not fine, Y/N," Natalie said.

As you were wheeled past a trauma room, you saw your brother. Luckily for you, he was too focused on his patient that he didn't notice.

"Want me to get Will?" Natalie asked when she saw you glance in there.

"No! I mean, he looks really busy and I'm not dying. They should be the first priority."

"Okay, well I'll have Maggie call your dad because after all the standard tests, if I need to do more, I'm going to need your dad's permission since you're still a minor."

"Okay."

"Hey, Maggie," Natalie called, "Do me a favor and call Y/N's dad for me. I just might need permission to run some additional tests."

"You got it."

You got on the bed in the treatment room and allowed Natalie to listen to your heart and lungs. "Were you part of the crush?" she asked. "Did you get the wind knocked out of you? Is that why you passed out?"

"No, I got dizzy before we could get inside. I felt nauseous, too, but I think that was just from period cramps."

"The paramedics said you were dehydrated and that they had to administer an IV. Have you been eating and drinking properly? I know it's hot and that can cause you to pass out. Other than that factor, have you been eating and drinking normally?"

"Yes," you lied.

"Okay, I'm just going to need to get your height and weight and other vitals before we continue."

You nodded and followed her to where she took your height and weight. She wrote it down and you started to walk out, but she stopped you. "Uh, Y/N, come with me."

You followed her to the doctor's lounge where she handed you her sweatshirt. "Why are you giving me this?"

"You bled through your shorts. There's free pads and tampons in the bathroom if you don't have any on you."

You nodded. "Thank you."

"Meet me back here once you're finished."

"Okay."

When you got into the bathroom, you took all the pads and tampons you could fit in your shorts pockets after you had finished changing your dirty one.

Now, it was time for your great escape. No one would see you; they were all too busy treating other patients and worrying about the press.

You were almost out into the waiting room, but then a voice stopped you.

"Y/N?"

Shit. Jay.

You stopped in your tracks but then continued walking.

"Y/N, I know you heard me. Come back."

You sighed and turned around, hoping you wouldn't have to spill all the secrets about what's been happening at home.

***

"Poor guy," Erin said as she and Jay exited Sharon Goodwin's office. "He thought what he was going was right."

"I probably would've done the same thing if I were in his shoes," Jay agreed. "I mean, if I thought I saw a guy with an AR-15 in a movie theater and then thought the shots from the movie were coming from the gun, I sure as hell would've acted. Not that my service weapon can shoot bullets off as much as my sniper, but I'd try. Try and save civilians."

"Jay." Erin placed a hand on his arm. "You're not in Afghanistan anymore."

"I know. There's just some sick and twisted people in this world. Why would someone go into a theater with a leaf blower anyway? With all the mass shootings that have happened, that's probably the stupidest idea I've heard."

"I agree with you. But he's just a kid. He didn't ask to get shot. But, if I were in that teacher's shoes, I'd probably do the same thing and draw my gun."

Jay furrowed his eyebrows as he saw someone walking towards the exit of the ED and towards the waiting room. She had shorts and a t-shirt on with a burgundy sweatshirt tied around her waist. Jay wouldn't have given it a second thought, but he knew you had the same gray beat-up Converse because he had gotten them for you for a birthday present two years ago and you always wore the same polka dot scrunchie when you needed your hair to be in a bun and needed it to be tight.

"Is that?..." Erin trailed off.

"I think so," Jay answered, quickening his pace to catch up with you before you got out of the ED and he lost sight of you due to the number of people in the waiting room. "Y/N!" he yelled.

The girl he thought was you froze for a split second and then continued walking, this time at a faster pace. That was all the confirmation he needed. "Y/N, I know you heard me. Come back."

You sighed and turned around.

"I was going to tell you," you mumbled once you were in front of him.

He scoffed and crossed his arms across his chest. "Yeah? And when were you planning on calling Dad? You know you're a minor so a parent needs to be notified."

"Y/N!" Natalie yelled. "I thought you left, I was so close to getting security to look for you. We couldn't get a hold of your dad and were going to call Jay since he's your secondary emergency contact, but he's here now, so if both of you could follow me then that'd be great."

"You got it from here, Erin?" Jay asked.

"Yeah, text me if you need me to pick you up and bring you back to the district."

"Will do. Don't let Voight bust my balls because I skipped out."

"I'll tell him Y/N had a medical emergency. He'll understand."

"Thanks."

You, Natalie, and Jay walked back into the treatment room where Natalie had been previously treating you.

"First of all, let me just say it was not a medical emergency," you told your brother.

"Oh yeah? Then why are you here?" he asked.

"I was feeling nauseous."

"And you came to the ED just because of some nausea?" He raised an eyebrow. He so knew you were lying.

Meanwhile, Will was walking out of a trauma room after Rhodes brought a victim up to surgery.

"Hey. You hear?" Reese asked as she walked up to the doctor. "The kid at the theater, the one who got shot, he didn't have a gun, he had a leaf blower."

"What?" Will asked, stunned. He had worked on that kid and knew that it wasn't good.

"Yeah, turns out it was some kind of prank." She was about to turn around to leave, but then stopped. "Oh, and your sister's here. Treatment one."

"What? Why?"

"I think she passed out or something. Dr. Manning's in there with her right now."

"Thanks, Reese."

Will barged into your treatment room. "So, she comes into the ED and nobody has the common decency to even notify me?" he asked rhetorically.

"You were busy treating other patients, Will. I was going to get around to it eventually," Natalie said.

"Natalie, please just finish explaining what happened. Or just start from the beginning because Will's here now," Jay suggested, not wanting to have to break up an argument between the two doctors.

Now it was Will who was the one who crossed his arms over his chest.

"So, Will, what happened was that Y/N passed out. She was almost inside the movie theater, but she passed out, so she didn't go in."

"The movie theater where the shooting happened?" Jay asked. You nodded. "Jesus, kid, if you would've gotten inside, you would've given both me and Will heart attacks."

"Sorry. But, I'm glad I didn't get that far."

"Yeah, us too," Will agreed. "So, why'd she pass out?"

"Can I talk to you two for a minute? Outside?"

They nodded. "Be right back," Jay told you.

"So, what's going on?" Jay asked once the three were safely outside of the room and out of earshot from you.

"Have you noticed anything strange with her eating habits lately? Any skipping meals? Going to the bathroom right after meals? Not wanting to eat?" Natalie asked the two brothers.

"No, nothing," Jay answered. "Granted, we don't eat with her a lot because she lives with our dad and we both live on our own."

"Okay, because since her physical check-up a month and a half ago, Y/N's lost fifteen pounds."

"Fifteen?" Will asked, flabbergasted.

"I thought she looked smaller, but I just thought I was hallucinating from lack of sleep because of all the crazy cases we've had," Jay said.

"No, she's lost fifteen pounds since her last check-up," Dr. Manning reiterated.

"So, what are you saying?" Will asked. "Our sister's anorexic? Bulimic?"

"I'm not saying any of those yet. But, I talked to Dr. Charles while Y/N was in the bathroom and she said to try and have her eat something, like the greasiest thing you can find in the cafeteria, and see what she does. We'll even leave the room after to chat and I'll have Maggie keep an eye on the bathrooms to see if she goes in there. If she refuses to eat or freaks out over it, then we might be dealing with anorexia. If she goes into the bathroom after, we might be dealing with bulimia. Or, it could be a combination of the two or just possibly her trying to lose weight. Has she ever mentioned wanting to lose weight to either of you?"

"No, not all," Jay answered. "Even when we went out after her last day of school, which I think was about two weeks after she had that physical, she ate a ton and she didn't go to the bathroom right after."

"But you did go home right after," Will pointed out.

"Yeah."

"But, with some bulimics, if they know that the food has already been digested, they won't try to purge. And, it sounds like the food had time to digest."

"Alright, I'll go grab her a bacon cheeseburger."

"And a side of mac n cheese," Jay suggested. "She loves that stuff." Will started to walk out, but Jay stopped him once more. "Can you pick me up a bacon cheeseburger, too? I'm hungry."

Will rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but just so you know, you're paying me back."

"I know," Jay said and then went back inside the treatment room.

"Where's Will?" you asked.

"He's getting you some food. How does a bacon cheeseburger and mac n cheese sound?"

God, your mouth watered just at the thought of the bacon cheeseburger alone. The juicy patty, melty cheese, and crispy bacon, yum. And, you hadn't had a burger in who knows how long.

"That sounds amazing honestly," you answered.

"Okay, good because that's what Will's getting you." He paused. "Is everything okay with Dad? Everything good at home?"

"Yeah, everything's fine," you lied.

"Did someone tell you that you were fat at all?"

Shit, he knew I'd lost weight. "No," you answered. "I guess I'm not just mindlessly snacking when I'm doing homework anymore. It's not like I'm trying to lose weight."

No way were you going to tell him that there was rarely any food in the house, not here anyway.

"Okay, good," Jay answered. Then, he looked out of the room to see Will talking with Natalie. But, they were close enough that you could hear them, so you turned your attention to the two as well.

"Hey, Nat," Will said, carrying a bag with three cheeseburgers and a side of mac n cheese.

"Yeah?" she asked.

"I'm thinking, I only live a mile from you. So, when you go into labor, call me. I'll drive you here."

"Thanks, but...you know it could be three in the morning, right?"

"Sleep's overrated anyway."

Then, Will made his way back into your treatment room. "I wanna take you to the hospital," Jay mocked. "Very smooth, Will, very smooth."

"Will's got a crush, Will's got a crush," you said in a sing-song voice.

"Would you two knuckleheads keep it down? And no, I do not have a crush, I was just trying to be helpful."

Jay scoffed. "Yeah right. You totally have a crush on her, man. Now, give us the food and we won't say anything."

***

"Everything seem normal?" Natalie asked Will as Jay was still sitting with you after the three of you had finished your food.

"Yeah, she ate a little faster than normal, but we waited an hour and she didn't even get up to go to the bathroom, so I don't think that's the issue. She told Jay she wasn't trying to lose weight. She said she just wasn't mindlessly eating anymore when she was doing homework. But, I don't think that could make her lose fifteen pounds. Do you?"

"No. But unfortunately, given her height and age, she still has a normal BMI, so we can't do anything."

"Yeah, I get it. Me and Jay will keep an eye on her. It was around this time when our dad just kind of checked out on parenting us."

"What do you mean?"

"He wouldn't cook or really help us with anything. But, it was okay because our Mom was still around, so she'd cook and help us with things. He just thought we were old enough to deal with stuff on our own."

"Things that a teenager without another parent still needs help with."

"Exactly."

Jay poked his head out of the room. "Everything good? Y/N's asking when she can leave."

Will rolled his eyes. "Wonder where she gets that from."

"Shut up."

"I'll grab you the discharge papers," Natalie said and then walked to a nurse's station.

Just then, Will's pager went off. "I gotta go." He fished into the pocket of his scrubs. "You can take my car home and then just come pick me up from work and we can drive back to the district to get your truck. That way you don't have to bug Erin."

"Thanks, man. Go save some lives."

Natalie came back and handed him the discharge papers.

"Thanks, Nat. Me and Will will be sure to keep an eye on her, maybe have her over for dinner once or twice a week to monitor her eating habits."

"That's a good idea. Good luck with all this. Will told me that this was around the time that your dad clocked out on you, so maybe pay him a visit when Y/N's not there and check? I don't know if that's something you'd want to do or not."

Jay nodded. "I'll keep that in mind. Thanks."

"No problem."

Jay signed the discharge papers and then walked back into the room. "Good news."

"We can leave?" you asked excitedly as you sat up.

"We can leave," he confirmed.

***

You got out of the car and stood on the stoop of your house, Jay right next to you. "Jay," you started, "I have to tell you something."

"Okay, what is it? You can tell me anything."

You opened your mouth to tell him that there was barely any food in the house and that your dad refused to buy you feminine hygiene products because, by his logic, if he had another son, he wouldn't need to buy them, so you should buy them yourself.

But then, the door opened, revealing your dad.

"I was just going to say thanks for staying with me at the hospital. I would've left if you didn't stop me."

"You're welcome."

"Care to tell me where you've been?" your dad asked.

You knew he was just putting on a show because Jay was there.

"I was at the park and then me and Emma were going to see a movie and then--" your phone buzzed, alerting you that you had a text message.

"I've got it from here, Y/N. Dad, can I come inside?"

Pat Halstead nodded and you walked inside followed by your brother. "I'm gonna go upstairs and change," you said.

As you walked past the kitchen, you noticed a bunch of grocery bags, all of them full. He must've gone grocery shopping. At least you didn't have to worry about food for the next few days. But, you didn't know if he just did that because he finally listened to his voice mails and heard that you were in the hospital and were worried that they were going to find out that he was an unfit parent or because he finally came to his senses and realized that he was still responsible for you because you were a minor, which meant he needed to have food in the house.

As you walked upstairs, you checked your phone. It was Emma's neighbor asking if you could start helping her with kettle corn this Saturday. You responded with a yes because now, if your dad went back to not buying groceries, at least you'd be able to buy some for yourself.

A/N: Sorry this one was so short! It's kind of just to foreshadow the next installment of this. And, in the next installment, I will probably combine Seasons of PD: Season 4 and Seasons of Med: Season 2 because the storylines kind of go together. Anyway, thank you for reading! Please reblog/like and comment and tell me what you think! As always, if you want to be added to the taglist, just tell me and I’ll be happy to add you!

taglist: @theambracer88 @virtualreader @kelelas-life @celyndavies @brookerz122493 @musicismyescape27 @anotherfan07 @thexplosivegirl @dreamingwithlens @xoxmariaxox @onechicago18 @iamasimpingh0e 

[fumiko-matsubara]

Chiba Ryuunosuke || Sleep

Contrary to popular belief and very hypocritical to his own actions, Chiba Ryuunosuke actually loves to sleep.

Even though he has the habit of staying up late and working himself to the bone simultaneously, Chiba values his sleep the same way he values his personal space.

It shouldn't be disturbed.

He especially loves it when the day after a day is a Sunday, with his homework done and schedules cleared, because it means he can finally sleep in as long as he wants without inevitably facing any sort of outside disturbance (like his phone, his cat, any of his sisters, or sometimes even a wild Koro-sensei zooming by the window). With doors and windows locked, curtains closed, phone muted, and alarms disabled, Chiba always makes sure to have his dinner between 6-7 at night during Saturdays so that he can surely have his usual 16 hours of undisturbed rest since he then would normally wake up around Sunday noon.

Though, that doesn't mean that he wouldn't accidentally oversleep still whenever he chooses to stay up late during the weekdays. Everytime he stays awake until midnight as the earliest, his body will then automatically sleep in until there's only about an hour left before the first period starts the next day.

It was like as if his body has an alarm clock of its own with the way he always wakes up at 8 in the morning regardless of what time he finally falls into slumber.

Chiba was glad by this since it means he then won't oversleep to the point of missing more than half of his morning classes. But at the same time, it annoys him because it means he can't sleep in when he wants to.

Chiba likes to be punctual at all times, even begrudgingly too. It was the least he could do to make up for his not so good reputation since the impression he leaves on people the first time he meets them just for merely existing wasn't usually a good one. Oh how hyper aware he always is to the surprised whispers from his new classmates about how he is surprisingly compliant to the rules despite looking like someone who couldn't careless.

But even he has his own limits like come on now.

Maybe perhaps it's an aftereffect from befriending Karma last term but there are times when Chiba just badly wanted to screw everything and skip a whole school day just to catch some sleep. But alas, his own body ultimately betrays him and forces him to wake up at bloody 8 in the morning when it's only just been fucking 3 hours since he laid down on his beloved bed like oh my god-!

Which is why Okajima just narrowly dodged a furious fist flying to his face when he greeted Chiba a bit too loudly on their way to school that morning.

Koro-sensei could only sweat profusely when he felt one utterly terrifying unseen glare piercing its way through him in response when he joyfully greeted his class a good morning before starting homeroom.

"Don't even think about bothering him, let alone wake him up," Miki sharply warned to Maehara with a glare of her own when the brunet was curiously eyeing Chiba who was sound asleep on his desk during study hall. "Unless you wanna get bloody scratches on your face like what he did to one of his old band members last month."

Maehara then fearfully smacked both of his hands to cover his face in response, cautiously side stepping away from Chiba's seat as far as possible.

Miki shuddered at her own warning. She was so blessed that she was physically stronger and has better reflexes, that she managed to catch the attacking hands before it reached her face when she was tasked by Karasuma to wake Chiba up that afternoon when the guy was found asleep by a tree when he was just meant to be taking a short break from training like he claimed so.

Well, Chiba was dismissed early from training in the end since the class' usual accurate shot just missed the entire shooting target at every attempt he made. Figures he couldn't function well whenever he was forcibly woken up from his nap.

"Oh he can't be serious now," Nakamura just let out a long exhausted sigh when they found Chiba sound asleep on his desk yet again later that day, still clad in his gym uniform since he clearly couldn't be bothered sparing at least 3 minutes since being dismissed early to change out of it.

Nakamura turned to the ones who were currently present inside the classroom. "So... which of y'all big strong fellas wanna carry him home? I doubt we can wake him up at this point."

"I'll do it," Miki spoke up from her seat, packing her belongings. "We live in the same block anyways and he basically weighs nothing to me."

Something tells them that this wasn't the first time Miki had to carry a sleeping Chiba from one place to another. Maehara just wordlessly patted her shoulder out of pity.

It was a bit too jarring for everyone when Chiba came to class the next day in such a good mood, completely unlike from the violent cranky display he had shown the whole day yesterday.

Since then, nobody even dared to think about waking Chiba up, even if it's to eat something at least no matter how concerned they've gotten, in the entire 28 hours he had been deeply asleep after that whole ordeal with Takaoka's petty ass at the hotel.

They find the enormous makeshift blanket nest kinda cool though, enough to bring envy with how incredibly comfortable it looked to sleep on.

Not that they know how that nest even came to be or where the hell those blankets even came from.

[rays-of-fire-and-ice]

16, 24 or 28 for February Prompts :)

Prompt/s: 28. Ribbons

Setting: a few years after this valentine’s day/white day event/sometime after the ten-year time skip.

Rating: K

Synopsis: Momo gives Toshiro his Valentine’s Day chocolate with a small twist.

AN: Happy Valentine’s Day Hitsuhina community! Inspired by the prompts you sent me @canariie, I wrote this fic and was hoping to release it on Valentine’s Day (didn’t have much luck there as you can see). I decided I could use some cheese and fluff, and I hope you enjoy it too!

____________________________________

Toshiro couldn’t decide what was worse: the indignantion he felt or the headache throbbing in his temples. He tries to ignore both as he signs off on reports, but with each passing minute it becomes harder.

It’s rare for him to fall ill, but a lack of sleep and overworking had finally taken their toll on him. Yesterday when Rangiku saw him drag himself into their office, sniffling and croaking out an order, she’d practically kicked him out and told their subordinates to make sure he doesn’t return. It was a surreal moment, but in his hazy mind he could barely take it in. He’d protested for as long as he could, until he fell into a coughing fit and went back to his quarters.

But he couldn’t just lie here. He’s never felt as childish as he did a few hours ago when he’d snuck out of his room and back to his office, gotten the reports that needed to be completed, and flash-stepped back to his quarters. He knew he could have just dismissed the concerns of subordinates, but he didn’t want to face that, not while his mind was like this.

He puts his focus into writing his name, slow and labored. He pauses every now and then to cough. Time flies by in a blur of aches and dizziness. When it becomes too much he glances at the desk clock – a gift from Rangiku for his birthday a few years back. Someone from the fourth division would be coming by soon with medicine. Maybe now would be a good time to get a tea. Besides, he’s have to hide this paperwork before they got here. He stands and makes his way to the door, intending to go to the barracks kitchens just down the hall to make a tea for himself, when there’s a knock.

He stops, but loses his balance and half leans on the nearest wall. They’re early. Tea would have to wait until after this visit. With a string of coughs, he reaches the door and slides it open.

He’s bewildered to find his visitor is not from the fourth division. “Hinamori?”

Momo, expression pinched in concern before he even opened the door, shakes her head in pity. “You sound terrible, Shiro-chan. You shouldn’t have gotten up to answer the door.”

Coming out of his stupor, he frowns and half-heartedly glares. “It’s ‘Captain Hitsugaya’,” he croaks, “and as a captain, you can’t tell me what to do.”

He cringes at the indignation in his tone, and even Momo isn’t sure how to take it. in the end she chooses to be annoyed. “You should be resting! You’ll get worse if you don’t.”

He leans against the doorway, world tilting slightly. “I’ll go back and rest after you tell me why you’re here.”

“I wasn’t going to come by originally, but Rangiku-san said I should give this to you in person.” Pale pink flushes through her cheeks. “I know she’s right, but you’re sick so I won’t take up more of your time.”

Before he can ask, she pulls out something from her sleeve and presents it to him. “I hope you like them. I used a different recipe for them this year.”

He blinks at the cellophane bag of chocolate in her hands. “Why’re you giving me chocolate?”

Her eyes widen. “Oh, you must be really sick, Shiro-chan.”

“What’re you on about?”

“It’s Valentine’s Day.”

“Oh…” And now he’s dumbfounded. The strange World of the Living celebration had taken off in the Seireitei since it was introduced several years ago. In his sick-induced stupor, he’d completely forgotten about it. He’s slow to reach out and take her gift. If only he were in a better state to accept these.

The bag is almost filled to the brim with chocolates and cookies, all different sizes and shapes; there’s a few snowflakes, some daffodils for the tenth division insignia, a bitten into watermelon slice, and hearts. He frowns at the blue and yellow ribbons tied into bows near the top. He tugs on the end of the yellow one, trying to think why it was so familiar to him. It’s not until the bow starts to come undone that it comes to him. “Is this…” He looks at her. “Is this the ribbon I used for those ice roses?”

A pale blush colors her cheeks and her lips tilt into a rueful smile. “Perceptive as always,” she says. “I didn’t intentionally use it, I just ran out of ribbon and that was the only one left.”

“Why’d you keep it?”

“Uh, well…”

He’s not used to her being this self-conscious; he almost tells her to forget it but he can’t help but be a bit curious.

“Your roses…they didn’t last long,” she explains. “I know even real roses don’t survive long, but they’re not the same. The ones you made were so beautiful, I never wanted to forget them.” She looks off to the side. “I kept the ribbon to remind me of them. Silly, I know, so I’m, uh, giving it back to you now.” The pale pink had darkened to red and she shifts her weight from one foot to the other. “I-I’ll be going now. I hope you get better so-”

“Hinamori.” His cheek heat up, and he knows it’s not from sickness. “Thank you for these.” He shifts her gift into one hand to rub the back of his neck. “Those roses were no big deal to make, so if you want them again this year…I’ll make them.”

She shakes her head, frazzled. “You don’t have to!”

“I know. But you like them, and I’m not great with other gift ideas, so…”

After a moment she relaxes and offers a tentative smile. “Okay, I’ll look forward to them.””

He nods. He’d have to start crafting them a week before White Day at the latest. Maybe he could make other flowers along with them. She likes most flowers, so it probably wouldn’t bother her to have some variety in the bouquet.

“Now, please, go back and rest,” she gently requests. “Can I help you back to bed or get you anything?”

He forces himself from the doorway. As nice as it would be to have her around, he can’t risk it. The last thing he wants right now – aside from someone discovering him doing his paperwork – was for Momo to get sick too. “Fourth division will be here soon. I’ll be fine.”

She nods. “All right then. I hope you’re feeling better soon, Hitsugaya-kun.” She bows her head. “I’ll see you later.”

“Right.” He slides his door shut once she’s out of sight. He used what little energy he had to stay standing, he realises, as he makes his way back.

He plonks down to his work table and completely unties both ribbons from the bag. He pulls out a snowflake shaped cookie and chews on it, disappointed that he can barely taste it. He puts the sweets down and puts the yellow ribbon aside – he’ll use it for White Day again. Maybe they could use this like a game of tag, passing it to each other every Valentine’s and White Day. He stops the thought right there, shaking his head at how childish it is.

This sickness is getting to him. If he wanted to be rid of such strange ideas or even taste the sweets Momo made he’d need to get better. He stands again and goes to his closet to pull out his futon. The reports can wait; resting would do him some good.

[purplesurveys]

1298

trigger warninggg

[Pause: Currently]

What style is your hair in?  In a really haphazard ponytail that I didn’t tie all the way through so it looks more like a bun than a ponytail.

What’re you wearing? Just a shirt and a pair of lounge shorts.

What’s the weather like outside?  I can’t really tell since it’s dark now and we currently have the aircon on, but judging how the weather at night has been more merciful now I’m guessing it’s quite chilly out.

What time is it?  11:28 PM. I really should be sleeping now since I have an antigen test early tomorrow but eh, it won’t be very Robyn of me if I have a normal body clock lol.

What’re you sitting on?  I’m currently in the living room. It’s been a while since I’ve taken a survey here, or downstairs in general.

Who, if anyone, is in the room with you?  My siblings and mom, and my grandma and cousin who are staying the night. The dogs are here too.

What’s on your mind?  How I should really be headed for bed.

What make-up, if any, are you wearing?  Nothing.

What month is it? We’re at the end of October.

[Fast Forward: Future]

What career do you want?  I used to want to get into journalism; like that seemed to be the only path for me at first. Once I started actually taking it up it didn’t take long for me to realize it wasn’t meant to be. After that I aimed to get a career related to media and/or communications, and I’m here now.

What age do you think you’ll get married by?  At this rate, I don’t know if it will still be a possibility for me. I tend to...not give things another try once I’ve proven to fail them once. But if by some miracle I meet someone and find myself in a stable, long-term relationship, my ideal age would be 27 or 28.

What about having kids?  Same age. I don’t want to have kids in my 30s.

What age do you plan on moving out?  Maybe 26? 27? Time will tell. I used to say I’ll move out as soon as I get my first job but I quickly learned how insane that sounds.

Can you see yourself moving away from here and if so, to where?  I imagine it for myself, yeah; but I’m also afraid of big leaps. I hope I would be brave enough to move to an entirely different city or even country altogether.

Do you think you’ll marry your current significant other?  I don’t have one.

Do you know what the weather is supposed to be like for the rest of the week?  I think sunny? It’s been like that the last few days and I haven’t heard any news about a typhoon coming. Which is GREAT, because I’ll be going to the beach this weekend and this is the only instance I’m ok with being under the sun lol.

What tattoos and/or piercings do you want in the future?  Seven dots. I also still want a bowl of nachos.

Do you want any cosmetic surgery sometime down the line, if you had money for it?  Nope.

In ten years, how old will you be and where do you see yourself?  33. Making more money.

[Rewind: Past]

When’s the last time you took a shower?  Yesterday.

What was the last text message you sent?  I sent an inquiry to a publication since they were being unresponsive to my email.

What did you do yesterday?  Just work. This week had been pretty hectic...but then again I think I’ve been saying that about all my weeks these days. Ugh. I’m burned the fuck out. My bosses are begging me to file a leave for once but I just can’t stand the idea of being absent and resting while shit is going on at work.

How old were you when you first started dating?  I never really...dated. The first and only relationship I’ve been in had been mutual from the very beginning and we dove headfirst to being together, no courtship phase and all. And I’m demi too, so dating is something I honestly find complicated.

When was the last time you saw your best friend? Angela, last Sunday. Andi, last January.

What was your first word?  My parents didn’t take note of it. What’s your earliest memory?  My mom planning a ‘camping’ trip for me and my sister, which was really just a tent set up beside her bed.

Do you remember what you were doing twelve hours ago? I was in a virtual meeting with one of our clients.

Three years ago, did you dress the same way you do now?  No. I liked stuff like denim skirts and off-shoulder tops back then, which wouldn’t be my first or even fifth choice these days.

How old were you when your first younger sibling was born, assuming you’re not the youngest or an only child?  I was 2.

[Eject: Stuff You Wish Didn’t Happen]

How did your first serious breakup go? My surveys from September last year to probably around March this year can speak for themselves.

TW// Have you ever had an eating disorder? I wouldn’t call it an eating disorder but I did lose much of my appetite in the aftermath of said breakup and skipped many meals. If I did eat, it didn’t take long before I felt full or before I felt nauseous.

TW// Have you ever cut yourself? Yes. I keep a key somewhere in my room just in case I feel like doing it but fortunately I haven’t felt the need to look for it for a while now.

TW// Have you ever thought about or attempted suicide? Yeah, extensively for the former. I’ve only had one attempt.

What was the last thing you cried about? Hometown Cha-cha-cha.

What’s one thing that’s stressing you out like crazy right now? Work.

Have you ever had a horrible teacher and/or boss? I’ve had plenty of horrible teachers. None for bosses - the ones I have are great.

The first time you dumped someone, was it hard? I’ve never been dumped but I’ve been dumped twice. Yes, both times were hard.

[Record: Awesomeness That Deserves to be Recorded on Video Forever]

When was the last time you laughed really hard and what was it about? Just a few hours ago; I was watching In the Soop and there had been a really funny moment when Hobi and Taehyung were playing RC cars and one of them was going really fast their car ended up crashing into a big box of fucking tennis balls and sent all of them flying. That gave me such a good laugh hahaha.

What was the last funny movie you saw?  I don’t really watch movies anymore.

The last time you ate something really delicious, what was it?  Starbucks’ dark chocolate macadamia cookie, which I’m having right now because my cousin got it for me :)

The last time you got your paycheck, how much was it and were you satisfied with it?  I’m not sharing that here haha. But sure, it’s an ok pay considering I still live with my family.

How exactly did you and your best friend meet?  We met in Grade 1 when I stabbed her palm with a pencil.

What was the last compliment you received?  That I’m an ok and reliable person to work with. 

What’s one thing you wish you could relive just for one day?  The day before the pandemic broke out just so I could’ve made the most out of that Friday instead of going home at like 4 PM lmao.

[Play: From This Moment On]

Now that you’re done, what will you do?  Get some sleep.

What’s on your agenda for today?  Well it’s Saturday now, so I’ll have to go out to get my antigen test later this morning since I’ll need to show I’m negative for COVID for my weekend trip to Zambales. I’ll probably catch up on sleep as soon as I’m back home and then spend my afternoon or evening packing.

What’s your next meal going to be?  Another dark chocolate macadamia cookie from Starbucks since my cousin had gotten me two hehe.

Will you change your clothes later in the day? Yes. I’m going out so I’ll definitely have to get into clothes more suitable outdoors.

Who do you plan on seeing today?  I’ll be meeting up with Kata and Bea since we’re taking our antigen tests together.

Are you going to take another survey afterwards?  I want to, but I really need to get some sleep haha.

Is the weather supposed to stay this way all day or will it change?  I don’t think it will change since we don’t have a typhoon warning.

Do you have any chores you need to do?  Not really.

Do you have work later in the day?  Yeah I’ll have to do some weekend work. I hope to get it done as soon as possible.

What about any homework to do?  I’m not in school.

[laisaxrem]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Naruto Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Haruno Sakura & Tsunade, Haruno Sakura & Shizune, Haruno Sakura & Shizune & Tsunade Characters: Haruno Sakura, Tsunade, Shizune, Haruno Kizashi (mentioned), Haruno Mebuki (mentioned), Hatake Kakashi, Uzumaki Naruto Additional Tags: Sakura Week 2021, Sakura Week 2021 day 6: Family, Family, Family is not just blood, civilian kizashi and mebuki, civilian born sakura, tsunade to the rescue, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, i mean mental abuse, Angst, a little bit, One Shot, Tsunade doesn't give a fuck Series: Part 28 of This is Us (english version) Summary:

Sakura has never had an easy relationship with her family: civil by birth and from a wealthy family, her parents have never accepted her desire to become a kunoichi. On a rainy day, Sakura will find that family isn't always just the blood running through your veins.

Day 6 of Sakura Week.

.

.

Friday, 28th February 1680

«Sakura-chaaaan!»

Naruto’s annoying voice just outside her apartment door woke her up.

Turning around a little bit she glanced at the alarm clock that she kept on the bedside table next to her bed: it was only 7 o’clock in the morning and Sakura felt inside her the irrepressible desire to kill her friend.

For a moment she contemplated the idea of not getting up and waiting for Naruto to go away and leave her alone. Then she remembered who she was talking about and with a grunt came out from under the sheets.

Naruto was on the landing, his one arm raised to knock on the door for the umpteenth time.

«Oh, Sakura-chan, I was afraid you weren’t at home».

«If so why did you keep knocking and screaming early in the morning, you giant idiot».

«Uuh. Sakura-chan, don’t be so hard on me», he whimpered, pouting. «I felt alone at home… And my arm hurts».

The young woman sighed and stepped aside, inviting her friend to come in with a gesture of her head, then made him sit on her slightly battered sofa and placed a hand on the stump of his right arm infusing it with her healing chakra to relieve the pain. At the same time Sakura analysed the scar to make sure there were no active infections. Fortunately, everything was as it should be so the young woman sensed that Naruto had still abused his limb during training and gave him a good earful reminding him for what was probably the millionth time the indications they had given him to obtain the best chances that Hashirama-sama’s cells would take root when the prosthetic arm would be ready.

«Hey Sakura-chan, why do you still live in a chūnin apartment if you’re a jōnin?» her friend suddenly asked.

«Mmm». In fact, Tsunade-sama had offered her a new accommodation when Sakura was formally promoted to jōnin but she hadn’t thought about it too much and she had refused. «Maybe because this was the first home I could truly call my own».

«Uhh? What are you sayin’, you lived with your parents before you moved here».

«Mmm mmm».

In fact, come to think of it, exactly three years had passed since that day…

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

Tuesday, 28th February 1677

Sakura had always hated ultimatums.

That’s why she found herself wandering the streets of Konoha as if she no longer had a home. Because in fact Sakura no longer had a home.

She thought she had finally found her way, her place in the ninja world: she excelled in the medical arts thanks to the guidance of Tsunade-shishō, she had reached an excellent level in taijutsu thanks also to the help of Rock Lee, she felt useful and necessary in the hospital where she helped both shinobi and civilians too. She felt she was getting closer and closer to her goal: to bring Sasuke home. And she were happy.

Yet there she was, walking like a zombie in the rain. She sometimes hated her parents; they had never supported her desire to become a kunoichi and in fact they had often even done what they could to get in her way. She remembered as if it were yesterday how much they had fought to not sign the forms for the admission to the Academy. In those days at the Haruno compound there had been screams, tears and slamming doors. Kizashi and Mebuki had believed they could discourage her with their denials and their constant postponement; it was evident that they did not know her at all.

Some times she could still hear their words in her ears. “You are still too young”, they told her, “you will fail and then you will come and cry to us”; or, when they tried to change her mind using logic, they used arguments like “we are not ninja, the Harunos never were. Trying to be what you are not will only make you feel worse”. Sometimes instead they decided to use the sense of guilt: “and if something happened to you what would become of us? Don’t you think about your poor parents? We didn’t educate you to be so selfish”. But in the end she had won and enrolled in the Academy even if almost a year late. She had hoped that her parents would accept her choice but that had not happened. Whenever she found herself having some difficulty in an exercise, or a test didn’t go more than perfect, her father looked at her with disappointment and with an expression on his face that said he expected her to fail while her mother pointed out that they had told her that this was not her way, that she had to live as a civilian like they did. During that time Sakura had fallen asleep crying many times.

Years had passed and she thought that by now her parents had hurt her in every possible way. She was wrong; how wrong she was.

Her father had told her at dinner that evening that they would be moving to Hana no Kuni soon and that she would go with them.

Sakura had vehemently protested telling them that in Konoha she had a life, friends, a career and that she didn’t want to leave everything to move to the other side of the world. “You’re a Haruno”, her father had yelled as he slammed his fist on the table, “and it’s time for you to act like one. You will come with us, you will forget all this nonsense and you will get married with the nephew of the Daimyō! Everything has already been decided”.

So Sakura had ran out and slammed the door, ignoring the fact that it was pouring with rain outside and that her light civilian clothes were not suitable for a walk in the rain.

It was now more than an hour and Sakura knew she had to go home and talk to her parents, reason with them and make them understand that she really couldn’t leave the Village, even if they were asking her, and sure as hell she had no intention of accepting an arranged marriage. Because inside her she knew she would slowly wither away if she gave up kunoichi’s career. Yet, even knowing this, even the idea of setting foot in that house again made her nauseous and no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn’t find within herself the resolve to go back there.

Eventually in her wandering she found herself at the edge of the forest where a large black tombstone stood proud in the rain. Sakura knew that place well and she knew what that stone represented and she was not too surprised to notice that a tall and slightly curved figure stood in front of it.

«Kakashi-sensei», she greeted him as she slowly approached the cenotaph.

«Hey, Sakura-chan, we haven’t seen each other for a while», he greeted her with a small smile, which can only be guessed from the fold of the one visible eye.

In fact, he was right. After Naruto had left with Jiraiya-sama for his training, all that was left in Konoha of the Team 7 were Kakashi-sensei and herself, who had begun to educate herself under Tsunade-sama’s guidance, so their team had been temporarily dissolved. Sakura knew that Kakashi was constantly engaged in A-rank or even S-rank missions and it didn’t surprise her at all: after all, her ex sensei was probably the most powerful jōnin in the Village and since Suna and Oto had launched the attack that had led to the death of the Sandaime and many other brave shinobi, those who remained were forced to face one mission after another, both to prove that despite everything Konoha was still strong, and to bring some money into the coffers of the Village. Kakashi in particular, perhaps also because of his fame, was tremendously in demand and in the last year and a half he had spent more time on mission than inside the walls. In fact, Sakura knew that Tsunade had given him a three-week rest period after he returned home for the umpteenth time with the chakra reserve at a minimum for the abuse of his sharingan.

(Sakura had once witnessed one of their squabbles because Tsunade had wanted to teach her how to heal people with exhausted chakra. It had been both fun and embarrassing to see her ex-sensei being scolded and treated as if he were a five-year-old kid).

«How is your enforced rest going?»

«Maa, maa, I feel like they’re holding me in a glass dome. I think I have reread Icha Icha Paradise at least a dozen times», the man complained, shrugging and pulling out the orange book long enough to show it to her before putting it back away from the rain.

«Honestly, sensei, I really don’t know what you see in those books. They are not even anatomically correct».

«You say so, Sakura-chan».

«No, the human body says so».

«I will not discuss about Icha Icha with you… And about the fact that you have read a book forbidden to minors under eighteen», he teased her, the light tone of one trying to pull a smile out of someone. «What would your parents say if they knew?»

Ouch. This hurt.

Instantly Sakura felt that weight that she had forgotten during the last minutes of conversation with her sensei return to her heart. Maybe Kakashi noticed her eyes darken as he turned to her just enough to look her straight in the face. The young woman could not hold up that dark eye that scrutinized her and lowered her face.

«Sakura, why are you here in the rain?» She didn’t answer, her throat tightened in a vice. She hated it when she felt this way and someone was nice to her because she felt like she could explode at any moment. The fact that it was Kakashi was even worse. «Sakura». This time Kakashi’s tone was harsher, the tone of voice that he would have used on a mission to get his companions to obey and Sakura found herself unwittingly straightening her back and getting to attention. «Look at me». She obeyed as if she couldn’t do anything else but she felt her throat tighten in a knot. «What happened? Has someone hurt you?»

She couldn’t help but shake her head. She wouldn’t cry, she absolutely wouldn’t cry. She was a kunoichi from Konoha, she was an adult, and she wouldn’t cry just because her parents were selfish.

«Did something happen to your parents?» Kakashi-sensei insisted and Sakura was surprised when she felt one of his hands resting on her shoulder, a reassuring anchor in that storm of emotions. «Come on, let’s go. I’ll take you home».

Sakura wanted to protest but lowered her head and followed him out of the field into the streets of Konoha. She didn’t even look where they were going, her eyes fixed on the jōnin’s feet, blindly trusting that he wouldn’t allow her to crash anywhere. Inside her she was already ready for the second part of that skirmish and she was trying to harden her heart just enough to allow her not to give in under the emotional blackmail of her family. But she actually didn’t know how she could do it. After all, she was not yet fifteen, and although genin far younger than her had been living alone from years, she was not an orphan and as an only child she was expected to follow the wishes of her parents.

Half an hour later Kakashi stopped and in a cheerful tone said: «Here we are».

Sakura looked ahead and realized that they were not in front of her parents’ garden but the door she had in front of her was the somewhat ruined one of Tsunade-shishō’s apartment.

«Oh».

She wanted to say something, ask Kakashi-sensei why he brought her there and not the house where she was born and raised, but he was already knocking on the door and a few seconds later it opened on Shizune.

«Yo», Kakashi greeted her, raising a hand. «I found a lost kitten in the rain and I thought it was yours».

«Sakura! What have you done? You’re completely soaked», her senpai scolded her before grabbing her wrist and dragging her into the house. «Hurry in Kakashi or you’ll let all the heat go out».

The girl did not turn to check but she heard the door close and light footsteps following them along the narrow and dark corridor, a sign that in fact Kakashi-sensei had obeyed the order.

The Hokage’s apartment was pretty damn small, certainly more than one would expect from the most important person in Konoha. It was completely unusual and against tradition and the Elders and the Council had tried to force Tsunade to move to the Senju neighbourhood or at least to accept one of the countless houses that had been offered to her and which, they said, were more appropriate to her role. Naturally, the Godaime had firmly refused, asserting that her small, damp and bare apartment was more than enough for her and Shizune, considering that she spent most of her life in her office at the palace.

Tsunade was sitting on the sofa in the living room, a small ceramic glass in her hand and an open bottle of sake on the low coffee table. In the other hand she was holding a large tome of medicine but when she saw them enter the room she closed the book and her blond eyebrows arch, creating a wrinkle between them.

«What’s the matter with you girl? You’re socked to the bone».

Sakura would have liked to reassure her and say that everything was fine, that there was nothing to worry about, lying and claiming that she had simply forgotten her umbrella on leaving the house. But maybe it was Shizune’s warm hand on her back, or the feeling of Kakashi’s eye on the back of her neck because Sakura couldn’t find the strength to lie.

«My parents have decided to move to Hana no Kuni next month and they want me to go with them», she let out in one breath, her voice low but calmer than she expected.

Her revelation was greeted by a moment of stunned silence, then Shizune blurted out: «What the hell does that mean?»

Sakura blinked like an old owl, amazed, because this was probably the first time she’d heard her senpai swear.

«They said I have to leave my life as a kunoichi and start acting like a Haruno», she continued in that cold and detached tone, as if explaining which procedure she would choose to undergo a certain operation on a patient. «They said it’s time I got to know the activities of the clan and bring honour to the family by finding a husband who can broaden the circle of our acquaintances».

As she spoke, Sakura couldn’t look her shishō in the eyes. As she repeated the words of her parents she felt her nausea and anger grow within her; how was it possible that they expected this from her? How was it possible that they did not understand her feelings in the least even though they were her parents, blood of her blood?

Sakura felt her eyes sting but never, never would she cry, not for that.

«Very well, let them go where the hell they like», Tsunade suddenly snapped, forcing her to finally raise her eyes. Her shishō was gripping the arm of the sofa so tightly that cracks were already starting to form in the wood and for a moment Sakura felt her heart break because she really hoped she would protest and fight to get her parents to stay. But after all, they were her blood family and Sakura was nothing more than an apprentice to her, so why should she protest? «But you won’t move from here», the Sannin added suddenly, the tone of her voice angry, while the wood gave up under her fingers. It was evident from her livid face that what she was about to say was the word of the Hokage and that she would not take no for an answer. «I didn’t waste the last year of my life teaching you everything I know to allow two ordinary people to drag you to the other side of the world to marry you to some preppy rich idiot».

«Tsunade-sama…»

«Don’t “Tsunade-sama” and “Tsunade-sama” me, Shizune», growled the Hokage. «I’m tired of those two. Not once did they give her the support she deserved so I don’t see why she should support them now».

Sakura would have lied if she said she didn’t fully agree with the woman, and hearing those words come out of her mouth took away some of the weight that oppressed her chest.

«And tonight you’re going to sleep here», Tsunade added. «In the morning I will take you to them and communicate my decision to Kizashi and Mebuki».

«Shishō, I can’t…» she tried to protest. Because, as touched as she was by Godaime’s feelings, the truth was that her sense of duty prevented her from considering that solution. And she knew that leveraging her good heart would do no good, not while she was in such an altered state, so she tried to use some logic even though all she wanted was to accept the invitation, lie down on the sofa and sleep until the following morning. «I don’t have my clothes or uniform or something to sleep with me…»

«Kakashi…»

«I’ll drop by and get what you need, Sakura-chan, don’t worry about that», came the prompt reply of her ex sensei who in a flurry of leaves disappeared from the living room, evidently headed for her bedroom in her house.

«You are my apprentice, Sakura», Tsunade continued, as if she had not just silently asked one of her jōnin to break through a window into the home of a member of one of the most powerful civilian families not only in Tsuchi but also in other Countries of the continent, including the Land of Fire. «Before being a Haruno you are my apprentice and I don’t intend to let you go like this». Suddenly the expression on her face softened and, after getting up and going to meet her, she placed her hand on her cheek with more tenderness than she had ever seen. «Don’t worry, little girl, I won’t let anyone take you away without your consent. This I can swear to you ».

Sakura nodded and allowed herself to lean on that rough hand as Shizune approached and placed a hand on her back. And for the first time since she was just a little girl dreaming of becoming a kunoichi, Sakura felt like she really had a family.

[one-more-offbeat-anthem]

@wantstoflyafraidtofall tagged me in this fun tag game!

1. name/nickname: Emmy

2. gender: she/her : )

3. star sign: Sagittarius 

4. height: 4′ 11′’ (technically 11.5 but who’s counting?)

5. time: 3:56 pm (almost put 15:56 bc I use the 24-hour clock)

6. birthday: 12/6 (so it just passed!)

7. favorite bands/groups: Linkin Park, Waterparks, The Strike, Set It Off

8. favorite solo artists: uhhh idk y’all

9. song stuck in my head: Kill the Lights by Set It Off

10. last movie: The Last Jedi

11. last show: yesterday I watched some supernatural and some NCIS, my two great television loves. also partial to Brooklyn 99 but it doesn’t come back til spring : (

12. when did i create this blog: August, finally abandoned my blog from middle school : P

13. what do i post: mostly destiel and spn, with a touch of snowbaz and NCIS

14. last thing googled: who plays the codebreaker in the last jedi

15. other blogs: my fanfic/art recs side blog @one-more-offbeat-anthem-fic-recs

16. do i get asks: I've gotten a few! I love asks so feel free to send ‘em : )

17. why i chose my url: it’s a (misquoted) fall out boy lyric! it’s from the song rat-a-tat, the actual lyric is “one more off key anthem” but when I was fifteen/sixteen and made my ao3 account I misheard it. also, my nanowrimo account is the first half of the line, “are you ready for another bad poem”

18. following: 238

19. followers: 185

20. average hours of sleep: 6-7 : P

21. lucky number: 5

22. Instruments: piano! I have been playing since I was four : ) I also played baritone in marching band, but I haven’t played in ages

23. what am i wearing: jeans, converse, and a sweater with penguins on it

24. dream job: professor/researcher, specifically in public health : )

25. dream trip: Germany!

26. favorite food: pasta pasta pasta

27. nationality: american

28. favorite song: War Crimes by Waterparks

29. last book read: The Hazel Wood by Melissa Albert

30. top three fictional universes i’d like to live in: uhhh see on the one hand supernatural sounds nice but also I would probably die, Star Wars for SURE I would love to live in (would also probably die tho yikes), and the thing is NCIS is set in the real world but also I would LOVE to be a detective or an agent and solve crimes with team Gibbs 

I tag whoever wants to do this! I have a headache and I don’t feel like tagging folks :P

[lovemesomesurveys]

Time Started: 1:13AM. Date: Thursday, January 7, 2021.

1) First Name Spelled Backwards: Einahpets.

2) Middle Name Spelled Backwards: I’m not sharing that.

3) Last Name Spelled Backwards: Or that.

4) Your Half-Birthday: Towards the end of this month, January 28th.

5) What type of milk do you drink? I don’t drink it by itself, but I use soy or almond milk in things.

6) What is the most sentimental thing you own? Oh, a lot of my things are sentimental to me.

7) Have any imaginary friends? No.

8 ) When was the last time you brushed your teeth? Yesterday. It’s 1:17AM; I haven’t brushed them yet today.

9) Do you listen to Christmas music in July? No.

10) What is the first thing that comes to mind when I say January?: I think of the new year.

11) May?: Ugh, summer is right around the corner.

12) November?: The holidays and fall.

13) July?: Miserable summer heat and my birthday. 14) April?: Easter and rain.

15) February?: Hearts and my brother’s birthday.

16) October?: Halloween, scary movies, fall.

17) August?: Dreadful summer weather.

18 ) March?: Green and my dad’s birthday.

19) December?: Christmas, of course.

20) June?: Summer D:

21) September? My mom’s birthday and that fall will soon be coming.

21) What color is your blanket? Rose gold.

22) What was the last movie you bought? I haven’t bought a movie in a long time, so I don’t remember.

23) Last CD you bought? *shrug* It’s been several years since I’ve bought a CD.

24) What radio station do you listen to? None anymore. My parents and brother all play their Spotify in their cars and those are the cares I ride in, so.

25) Are you the only child, oldest child, middle child, or youngest child? I’m the middle kid.

26) If you do have brother(s) or sister(s) put them in alphabetical order, including yourself: Jon, Richard, and me (Stephanie).

27) Do you have anything on your bedroom walls? I do.

28 ) How many windows in your home? Two. We have our sliding glass door that goes to the backyard as well if that counts.

29) How many pairs of shoes do you own? Like 5 or 6.

30) What's the weirdest song title you've ever heard of? There’s been many, but of course I’m totally blanking.  31) What's the worst movie you've ever seen? Not the worst, but a bad one that comes to mind that I saw recently is Sinister.

32) Whats the worst CD you've ever listened to? Hmm.

33) What US State would you NEVER want to visit? *shrug* There’s a lot I do want to visit, though. I don’t know if there’s one I’d NEVER visit, just ones that don’t particularly pique my interest. 

34) What country would you NEVER want to visit? Uhhh.

35) What is your least favorite color? Brown.

36) What is your favorite flavor Fanta (the soda)? The strawberry one. I haven’t had that in yearsssss.

37) Do you have any scars? If so, tell me about them....: I have a lot of scars, most of which are from surgeries.

38) Do you know anybody in the Army, Navy, Marines, or any other group (currently or a Veteran)? Nope.

39) What color goes good with blue? White or yellow.

40) Green? Gray.

41) Grey? You can pair gray with a lot of colors. 42) Orange? Black.

43) Red? White or black.

44) Yellow? Black, white, blue.

45) Purple? Some shades of blue.

46) What is your favorite character in 'Harry Potter'? Snape.

47) 'Lord Of The Rings'? I never got into that.

48)'Grease'? I didn’t have a particular favorite.

49) Have you ever seen 'Life Is Beautiful'? Nope.

50) What about 'Monsters Inc.'? Yes.

51) Do you like Scooby Doo? Yeah. I liked it growing up. It’s a nostalgic thing for me.

52) Describe your perfect place to live (imaginary or not): A beautiful beach home with my own private beach area.

53) Does your back hurt? Of course.

54) Do you collect anything? If so, what? Giraffe stuffed animals and knickknacks, keychains, Baby Yoda/Grogu stuff...

55) Have you ever been to camp? Which camp? I’ve been to science camp and Girl Scout camp.

56) Do you have a car? If yes, do you call it anything? If so what? No, I don’t drive.

57) If you don't have a car, would you name it? If so, what? I don’t think I would, but who knows.

58 ) What is your perfect car? *shrug* A nice, functioning one?

59) What family member are you closest to? My mom and younger brother.

60) What family member do you wish you were closer to? I miss being close with my cousins like I used to be.

61) Do you consider pets as family? They are family. 

62) Do you look at a calendar daily? No. 63) What is your least favorite holiday? Valentine’s Day has just been another day for me, so.

64) Make up your own quote: No.

64) Do you like getting air-mail? I don’t think that’s a thing anymore and hasn’t been for quite a long time?

65) Would you ever go on a cruise? No.

66) How many phones do you have in your home? 6 working ones that are currently used and who knows how many old cell phones my family and I still have.

67) Do you own or wear a watch? Nope.

68) Do you wear any jewelry? I haven’t in awhile.

69) Where do you wish you were right now? I’m good with being at home.

70) With whom? My parents, brother, and doggo are here.

71) Doing what? I’m enjoying doing this and listening to an ASMR video at the moment.

72) Have you ever had a sepia photo taken of you?: Yes.

73) What is your least favorite WB movie? I don’t feel like thinking about which movies are WB movies or looking them up. 74) Do you own any hats? Is yes, what kinds? Yeah, beanies and baseball style caps.

75) Do you own anything that is older than you? Yes.

76) How many hours of sleep did you get last night? Never enough, but last night I think I really only got 2-3 hours. 77) Have you ever seen snow? Yes. 78 ) Have you ever won a ribbon? Yes.

79) Do you save old birthday/Christmas/whatever cards given to you? I do. 

80) How many clocks are in your home? I don’t feel like thinking about that either right now.

81) Ever been to Disneyland? …or Disneyworld? I’ve been to Disneyland several times, but not to Disney World so far.

82) Ever been to Universal Studios? Yeah, back when I was 7. I’d like to go now and see the Harry Potter stuff.

83) Ever seen the cockpit of an airplane? No.

84) Ever made a movie? My cousins and I did stuff like that when we were younger, my friend and I did that once for fun, and there was one I made for a class project.

85) Geometry or Algebra? Ew, math. We don’t get along.

86) Poems or short stories? Short stories.

87) AIM or MSN? I was an AIM girl back in the day.

88) MSN or Yahoo? I used Yahoo Messenger sometimes back in the day, too. I currently still use Yahoo for my email.

89) AIM or Yahoo? AIM.

90) Windows or MAC? MAC.

91) What is your least favorite number? I don’t have a least favorite, but my favorite is 8.

92) What was the last thing you said? “Oh wow.”

93) What are you sitting on? My chair.

94) Have you been outside today? Nope. It’s 1:48 in the morning, but I don’t have plans to go out at all later on either.

95) What have you done today? So far, just scrolled through Tumblr, listened to ASMR, and did surveys. I’m going to make my nightly bowl of ramen after this. 96) Do you like apple or orange juice? Ew, neither. I’m not a juice fan.

97) Do you like cats or dogs more? Dogs.

98) What is your most favorite reptile? Uh, none. I’m a scardy cat.

99) Would you rather fish or hunt? Fish out of the two, but I don’t have any interest doing that either.

100) Are you sleepy? Of course I am.

Time Ended:  1:50AM.

[islandpcosjourney]

Day 6 - Spring ‘21 challenge

20th March 2021

Today I woke up with the powerful feeling of energy! I felt amazing and what a great day to be alive! Not when I looked outside, mind, I do live in the Outer Hebrides and today’s weather isn’t much to write home about 😂

Ginger shot ✔️ Get all ingredients ready for juicing ✔️ Juice and clean-up within the hour ✔️ Shower and get ready ✔️ (Another day, I’ll go into what this all involves) Pour all juices into flasks with ice ✔️ 2.5hrs later and I was ready for work.

Today’s juices are: Pure raw energy smoothie Apple, Pineapple, Celery, Carrot, Beetroot, Lemon blended with Banana, Avocado & JV’s Berry blend powder (Amla berry, Goji berry, Acai & Camu Camu) Chlorophyll Cleanser Apple, Pear, Cucumber, Lime, Celery, Spinach, Broccoli stem, Kale

Yesterday I set up scheduled motivational quotes in a Weight Tracker app I use, and I got my first one today.

“I can’t control everything in my life, but I can control what I put in my body.”

A very apt and life affirming phrase to keep me on track today where I’m already feeling on top of the world and very much in control of things. This is the juice “high” that Jason regularly mentions. I’m surprised it didn’t come sooner than Day 6 this time around, but hey, each time I withdraw from toxins, its different. I suppose I always compare it to the first time in July last year where I basically spent Day 2 & 3 having to do very little with an awful headache, relaxing except for making juice and my brother dragging me out for walks, which of course did me good! I got my Juice high on day 4 that time around but it’s been different every time. I thought I was feeling good on Day 4 this week but today is definitely my HIGH! A juice high is when the body settles and finds its natural energy reserves and stimulants are NO LONGER required to falsely boost you to get through the day. How many of you rely on coffee to get you going in the morning? How many of you reach for a chocolate bar when you need a boost? I used to do both of those things, regularly, and that turns into a bad habit. You experience wonderful highs and terrible lows. On juice, your energy is naturally steady throughout the day and when you feel tired, it’s because your body genuinely needs to rest. I remember distinctly on Day 3 in July when I had to take myself off to bed and sleep for a couple of hours. My body needed to rest, and I just listened to it. Yesterday I wasn’t the most productive, but I now know that it was the “rest” that I required before today’s high, only now I’ll stay high!

I also felt so good that I wanted to take a picture of my progress so far (see below) – also apt because its been 6 months since I last took a mirror pic to show hubby my progress while he was away at sea (he’s away again). I look back on that first photo with disgust at how I’d let myself get that bad! In fact, I was MUCH MUCH worse back in July – 20lbs heavier in fact! No full-length or side-angled photos to show the evidence of that though ;) I was far too ashamed to take one at the time. In some respects, I wish I had but on the other side of the coin, I was in a good headspace to turn my life around. I didn’t want a picture bringing me down if the result turned out to be worse than I thought it was. I had the drive anyway, but boy would it have been interesting to see it now! So, after doing today’s comparison, I instantly feel lifted again. 37lbs doesn’t feel like a lot when I have c.63 still to go but it sure looks a lot and that’s what’s important overall. The main reason I’m on this 28-day journey is because I had become complacent and satisfied with my results (I mean, who wouldn’t be happy at losing over 30lbs!), I was happily maintaining but I’d forgotten my WHY which was to ultimately reset my body & my chronic condition and turn the clock back 10, if not 12 years to when I was last “happy” with the way I looked and felt.

I was also getting frustrated at how little progress I’d made on the scales in 6 months compared to the first 2 but I have to be compassionate and remember that this is a long-term lifestyle change I am making. There will be bad weeks or bad months, there will be ups and downs, there will be times when I make bad choices, there will be times when it all works out BUT ultimately, it’s a lifestyle change for the rest of my life and it must be realistic, achievable and sustainable. So, the weight loss may have slowed down but it’s going to anyway as I get smaller, but the overall picture is of LOSS, not GAIN and that’s what I hold onto.

On another note of progress, I wasn’t planning or needing to visit any shops but I unexpectedly found myself in and around shops with “tempting” food three times today! I felt so liberated to be walking into these stores where I’d normally either check out what was offer for Kevin, or trail the discount section to see what I could save money on (for consuming then or adding to stocks in the freezer) or indeed, grab a naughty impulse buy if I was having a bad day! I deliberately eyed up these areas, deliberately acknowledged them and dismissed them, deliberately walked right passed them and felt amazing doing so! I remember doing this over the summer, or rather “having” to do this when we were forced into going up and down each and every aisle in our local supermarkets for a one-way COVID-safe system. Of course, during the height of lockdown, I was taking advantage of being stationary behind a queue in naughty aisles and filling my trolley with naughties, hence the need for the major turnaround by July but by the summer when everything was opened up a little more and we had more freedom over our movement, I found myself wanting to visit the chocolate or crisps aisle JUST to stare at all the food that I DIDN’T want anymore and tell that food that I didn’t NEED it anymore. I found it the ultimate test of my resilience and it worked, back then. I of course slipped back into bad habits which is so easy to do without being aware of our conscious thoughts. 

“I can’t control everything in my life, but I can control what I put in my body.”

Today, not only was I feeling a déjà-vu about these moments but I was also realising HOW MUCH processed food is littering our shelves in our favourite stores. We’re talking about several thousand products that the population of my island is living on, let along the world, but also hundreds of products that people buy, mistakingly thinking that they’re healthy because they are marketed as such! In one particular store, all of the healthy, fresh produce is right at the beginning of the shop, then you have to walk up all the other aisles full of “food” that isn’t really food. By that I mean nutrition-deficient versus nutrient-dense food. We have too much choice, so many different options forced in front of us all of the time, is it any wonder that people make incorrect decisions, either through a lack of education or through psychological dependance? I’m not trying to disparage anyone’s lifestyles or diets but I’d like to simply point out that when someone such as myself tries hard or makes an attempt to turn their life around, I think its so sad that they’re constantly bombarded with these temptations wherever they turn. In one sense, they could be viewed as “choices” but in another they really aren’t because food addiction is very real. 

I felt very anxious about this side of lifestyle changes, avoiding such foods,  when I first attempted to do this back in 2017 by following a PCOS specific programme. Unfortunately, while the leader was very informed and while her research and the advice she was giving us was spot on (and still to this day I follow her advice and appreciate her research), her recommended food choices were so limited that I couldn’t sustain it. There was also a ton of “new” foods that I just couldn’t stomach and substitutes were so expensive to buy. I had to be so careful about what I ate, sticking to her exact menus because when I had even one thing which included any ingredient on the “avoid” list, I was violently ill. I believe that by being SO restrictive, that I created the perfect environment for food intolerences and I believe it all stemmed from problems in my gut. Now, whilst being on juice and by naturally avoiding gluten, dairy, sugar & meat, if I do “cheat” at any point, I don’t have the violent reactions that I once did, I believe because I am now getting the full complement of nutrients that I need, that I’m now healing my gut. This major difference makes this lifestyle change VERY sustainable and realistic. In this day in age, I don’t think its possible to completely avoid trigger foods without living the strict, paranoid & meal-prepped life that created excess stress & anxiety in my daily life. I simply wasn’t cut out for that.