#Froggy mail time

[smokbeast]

💕 Outer snas?

He's so prepared for this first date you don't even understand

[munespice]

Mail time froggies :)

[sirfrogsworth]

Froggie's (Almost) Very Productive Day

I try to fit as many out-and-about chores as possible into a single day so I only have one set of post-exertional malaise consequences instead of consequences after each day of doing a thing. So any time I decide to drive, I try to find several tasks to accomplish all at once.

My first stop was the Family Services Division in the hopes of getting some help with grocery bills. I am making ends meet, but it seems to be getting harder each month. And maybe I could have skipped my trip to Florida and saved that money, but if I don't do something drastic for my mental health, I fear this first holiday season without a parent could send me into the darkness.

I needed to do an interview to finish applying for SNAP. I wanted to do a phone interview, but the next appointment was in January. So I went to social services where they allow walk-in appointments. I waited in a tiny plastic chair for several hours until they called my name. She yelled out "Benjamin" because when most people see "Grelle" they aren't really sure how to say it. (Rhymes with belly.)

She started my interview and it was going swimmingly at first. But then she started asking questions about the house and my inheritance and my trust. I had no idea what to tell her. It feels like a mistake now, but I have had pretty much no involvement in that process. I have no idea how it works. And I started to panic because she was acting like I was committing fraud or something by not mentioning the trust. But the entire point of the trust was to protect my benefits. Nothing is mine. I own nothing. I have no access. But I had no idea how to explain that.

Maybe my lawyer can help me apply, but I did not want them investigating everything and screwing things up before we even have the estate through probate. We specifically hired a lawyer and went through this convoluted process to make sure everything was on the up and up. But she really made me feel like I was doing something wrong. And that made me panic, which probably made me look even more guilty of something. So I just canceled everything and left.

After a few hours in a crowded government office, I decided to head to a different crowded government office.

I know I didn't need it until 2025, but I decided to go ahead and get my Real ID thingie before my first flight. I was kind of hoping they'd retake my picture because my current driver's license is... well...

And I'm so glad they took my big terrible picture and made it into a smaller, more terrible picture.

People complain about the DMV, but the one near me runs like a machine. It was filled with people and I still only had a 10 minute wait time.

I'm starting to wonder if all of those 80s comedians who were all, "What's the deal with the DMV?" were exaggerating.

Good stuff, Jerry.

I head up to the counter and ask for a Real ID. She asks for two pieces of mail and my birth certificate.

And this disappointed me a little bit.

I did my research. I went to the Real ID website and used their interactive guide to figure out exactly which documents I would need. They gave me this entire checklist and I printed it out and went through all my records and mail trying to find everything.

I had to wait a week for my internet bill to come because it's the only thing I forgot to change to paperless. This took a lot of effort and I was ready to be validated for being so prepared.

And she asks for two pieces of mail.

Any mail.

So I was off to get new tires.

Driving around on 8 year old bald tires was giving me anxiety. I didn't have the money for new tires, but I remember the guy saying they had financing. Recently several of my past debts went past the statute of limitations, and so my credit score lifted itself out of the pits of "poor" and into the realm of "fair." So I decided to take a chance and apply for a Discount Tire credit card. It's a 6 month payment plan with no interest, so that didn't feel as predatory as all the credit card offers I get in the mail with 8000% interest.

We started going through the approval process and I was answering all of the questions and then I saw the name of the bank offering the credit. It was the same bank that tried to sue me and also the bank that can longer collect due to the statute. I was worried they put me on some sort of list and would deny me. But, to my surprise, they approved me instantly. And wouldn't you know it, they gave me almost exactly the amount needed for a new set of tires.

I'm hoping we'll be doing another auction of the house stuff soon, so I plan to pay off the card and then cancel it, but this was the only solution I could come up with to drive safely until then.

I was having a weird day where photos of crusty rich wide dudes followed me everywhere I went. Here is my good ol' boy governor at the entrance to social services.

And at the tire place, I noticed this fella...

Why does every rich CEO think they are a font of wisdom capable of creating compelling quotes?

Does he think no one has ever said "work hard" and "have fun"? And after he said this was he like...

"That's gold, put that in *every* store."

"Oh, and use that picture of me where it looks like a handsome gal just grabbed my undercarriage."

He probably thinks, "Well, no one has put these specific generic platitudes together into a single mega-platitude. I am a genius."

"Be honest, work hard, have fun, be grateful, pay it forward" sounds like he had a bunch of motivational posters on his wall and started reading them all at once.

Like, every line could have a picture of an eagle above it.

In any case, the guy at the tire store, Dakota, was really nice. He made the experience very low anxiety. And he really liked my Thor's Hammer keychain with built in fidget spinner.

He went around showing it to all his coworkers. "Look, it even spins!" And they were like, "Dude, where did you get that??" And I was like, "Amazon." Now I'm just imagining 10 dudes at a tire store all fidgeting their hammers.

As nice as he was, Dakota was still a salesman and had a job to do. He gave me two tire options and tried to upsell me. The cheapest tires had a "1" rating for winter. He said they get "super hard" in the cold... I tried not to giggle. But I explained I drive about twice a month and mostly to the grocery store. If it is a bad winter day, I'll just wait or get delivery. He understood and set me up with the cheaper tires.

He then checked out my car and noticed my tire pressure sensors were dying. I keep getting a warning light on my dash. Apparently they all have tiny batteries in them that die after 7 years. And you can't just replace the batteries so you have to install brand new sensors.

And this is where my social anxiety got me into trouble.

I don't actually need these sensors. They are usually inaccurate. I prefer to test my tires with an actual gauge. But I got so caught up in his sales pitch that I agreed to replace them... at $60 each. For that I could have gotten the fancier tires. I really don't care if an orange light shows up on my dash. And I looked up the price online and a pack of 4 is $30. Though that is without installation.

But still... I wasn't thinking and he was so nice that I was just like, "I want to please Dakota. Saying no might make Dakota sad." Dakota's job is selling me but that doesn't mean I have to buy anything. He would live if I had said "no thanks."

To make my blunder more blunderous, when they finished the tires he asked for my key fob. And it decided that was the time for the battery to die. And in order to reset the system for the new tire pressure sensors, you have to press two buttons on the fob for 7 seconds. Thankfully I had a spare fob at home, but if I want my fancy new $240 sensors to work, I have to return to Dakota and have him initialize them.

I really hope these are the Cadillac of sensors.

Or, like, the ones they use on Cadillacs?

They better be accurate, is what I'm saying.

I do feel safer with new tires. So I am glad I did that. And I gave them a good obligatory kick and felt the tread. They seem nice enough even if they get boners in the winter. It's crazy how bald my other tires were in comparison. Like, I can fit half my finger down into the tread on the new ones—which did not get them super hard.

The way I drive, I probably won't wear them down. They'll probably start to rot before I do.

Before I do, meaning before I wear them down.

Not before I rot.

I am not in a rotting competition with my tires.

I was then off to Sam's. I decided all of my hard work accomplishing 2 out of 3 goals deserved some sushi. So I grabbed some California Rolls and headed home. On my way out, a Hummer and a Porsche nearly collided in the parking lot. And they sort of got stuck facing each other. One of them needed to back up and they both signaled at each other like "You back up, I'm not backing up." And it was just this weird standoff between the two douchiest looking cars you could imagine.

I mean, you have to be a douche to drive a Hummer.

I still remember the mystery Hummer dialysis patient from when my dad was going 3 time per week. We could never figure out who owned the Hummer, but we knew it was not the underpaid nurses and techs. So it had to be one of the patients. And none of them seemed the type. We never solved that mystery.

That hummer started off a delightful safety yellow. (Elon would cry.)

They decided this wasn't extra enough... so they did this...

Katrina and I could never decide... are these cow spots or the world's least effective camoflauge?

There was another patient who drove this old beater...

And I loved seeing this car because we had the same one when I was a little kid. I'm afraid the aesthetics of the 1980s Caprice Classic did not stand the test of time, but it had great sentimental appeal for me.

But this maroon beast that squeaked and sputtered its way from here to there belonged to a very sweet older gentleman. Sometimes he and my dad would be dialysis buddies—sitting next to each other in the recliners. And the worst thing about dialysis was the boredom. All you have to do is watch broadcast TV with 4 channels.

All of the TVs require headphones. They give you your own set of super cheap headphones in the dialysis welcome bag. They were very uncomfortable so I ordered my dad better ones with cushioned ear cups.

His dialysis buddy noticed them and thought they looked nice. And then he revealed that his free headphones broke and he didn't know how to get new ones. He had been watching TV with no sound for weeks. So, I bought another pair with the soft ear cups and my dad gave them to his friend. And it just made me happy imagining the two of them watching The Price is Right in matching headphones.

I do have to make fun of this sweet old man a little bit. When I walked passed his car I noticed he implemented the world's most effective anti-theft device ever created.

That's right... The Club™.

If someone decides they have to have a 40 year old car with an engine that sounds like a dying hyena and a hubcap missing... they are out of luck.

But hey, you gotta protect what is important to you. And if I needed a getaway car and my choices were between his beater and the Cow Hummer, I'd take his ride for sure.

Well, I'd try... and then get arrested because The Club™ is undefeatable.

Do NOT look that up on YouTube. It's 100% true. (And the Lock Picking Lawyer doesn't count due to him being able to break into Fort Knox with a paperclip and then doing it again to make sure it isn't a fluke.)

The dialysis center is in the same complex as my local Tolerable Schnucks and I still see that maroon boat of a car every once in a while. I always smile whenever it is there because it lets me know he is hanging in there and hopefully still has sound for his TV.

Wow, I went off on a mega-tangent.

I didn't even finish talking about my day. Where was I? Oh, the douche standoff finally ended. The Porsche Douche capitulated and backed up. Probably due to the fact the Hummer Douche has 0 visibility behind him.

When I got home I started devouring my sushi. I finally heard back from my lawyer. He submitted the last of the evidence for my appeal. And I was finally able to confirm he got the records of my ECT treatments from 20 years ago. I worked so hard to get those. At first, they forgot to send all records before 2011. I had to call back and figure that out. They shipped them and they didn't arrive until a week before we had to file. Everything was so last minute and my anxiety has been... palpable. It felt like when I did my science fair project on Sunday night.

He's hoping to get a decision at the beginning of next year. He warned me that these appeals are usually rejected. And that the most effective method of approval was a hearing in front of an administrative law judge. But that could be delayed by up to a year. So I might need to figure out how to survive until 2025. As long as my brother does what he is legally required to do, I should be okay. But counting on that also gives me palpable anxiety.

And that was my day.

Every time I go out is always an adventure.

But remember...

BE NICE. EAT YOUR VEGGIES. PET CUTE DOGS. DREAM BIG. KEEP YOUR TIRES WARM... FOR REASONS. 5 LIFE LESSONS -Froggie, Mildly Famous Internet Person

[stories-and-chaos]

Tarnished pt 23

[Helluva Boss AU where Blitzø’s childhood theft from Stolas’ palace is discovered and major consequences ensue for everyone involved.]

[Part 23/?? Word Count: 1857]

[CW: Drug abuse, addiction, gaslighting]

—————

Two weeks later, Blitzo sent another letter. It was thinner than the first. Barb gave it the same treatment, ‘RETURN TO SENDER’. The next one was even thinner, probably just one page in the envelope.

After she had that one sent back, he started sending postcards. Mostly they were generic landscape images from across the Rings. But not being in an envelope meant she saw snippets of the text on the blank side. Barb let Fizz know that Blitzo was sending mail, but never the content.

She didn’t mean to read any of them, but checking the address meant seeing what was written. There was a theme of ‘sorry, please talk to me, let me explain, I’m sorry, text, call, so sorry,’ in his scribbled handwriting. Knowing their dad’s account of events, her brother’s repeated requests for forgiveness just infuriated Barb.

She saw there were a few that mentioned her and their mom. Blitzo was asking if Fizz knew where they were. You’d know if you’d stuck around, traitor, she thought bitterly as she sent the postcards to be shredded. 

The frequent reminders of Blitzo’s existence kept her off balance. And Fizzarolli was spending more time in Lust. He kept denying any emotional attachment to Asmodeus but Barb saw the difference in how he talked about the Sin.  His absence left her somewhat at loose ends in her downtime.

The other survivors from their circus had scattered; few wanted to stay in Greed with all the established gangs and corruption. Barb, not wanting to be alone constantly, found other demons that shared her interests. One of those interests being drug use was incidental. 

After seven months, the postcards arrived less frequently. Barb didn’t really notice; she had access to stronger stuff and was getting fucked up on a regular basis. Fizz was paying her enough that she could afford it… for now. But as the next pageant got closer, she started missing more days.

At first it didn’t matter too much. Her friend was off being Ozzie’s boy toy. The PR team was finally filtering the mail somewhat. And just before the pageant, Blitzo sent a card saying, ‘I’ll leave you alone Fizz. You know where to find me. I’m sorry.’ That was one less stressor; Barb celebrated with a weekend long bender.

She managed to be clean for a few days before and after the clown pageant. She was able to function as Fizz’s security the whole time. Once again, he won. Once again, Mammon immediately signed him on with a year long contract.

This year though, the king of Greed had some things to talk about concerning Fizzarolli’s assistant. Whisking him behind closed doors for the rigamarole of the contract was the perfect moment to plant seeds of doubt about Barb in his mind.

“Y’know Fizzy, that assistant o’ yours…I know she’s your friend but she’s been slacking big time,” he said as they signed and initialed pages. “I’d hate for someone from your past to take advantage of you, yah?” Mammon had a look of intense concern as he finished his portion of the contract.

“I-I’ll talk to her, Mammon sir.” Fizz was already worried about Barb. He knew she’d gotten hooked on painkillers after the fire. She’d been sober for years but he could see the signs popping up. And if Mammon noticed, things were getting worse.

“Good boy Fizzy! ‘Cause we’re gonna be real busy again and we don’t need c**ts coasting off your success.”

The day after the pageant saw Fizz in Lust again, working with Ozzie on updating the Fizzies. Asmodeus took him out for lunch again. He’d told Mammon before the contest that he’d need the whole day with the winner for their work, preventing his fellow Sin from interrupting anything.

After lunch, Ozzie sprung an offer on Fizz. “I’d like you to work at my lounge club, Froggie. Get you some experience outside the Greed Ring and away from all those creeps.”

Fizz waved a dismissive hand. “Psh, I’ve always had creeps around, it’s not that big a deal. Besides, Barb’s got my back.”

“Yeeeeeeaaaah, about that,” Asmodeus said slowly.

“Oh not you too Oz! Mammon was just bitching to me last night about her!”

“Hey, I’m just saying…she’s having a bad time lately. I’m not gonna pry, but if even Mam has picked up on it? Your girl needs help.” Ozzie cupped Fizz’s cheek. “Look, I know she’s important to you. You’re basically family right?” Fizz nodded. “So I want to help. And moving you both out of Greed is a good way to start.”

Fizz sighed. “Yeah, she’s never really liked it there anyway. I can’t make her do anything though.”

“You know me babe; I ain’t about forcing anyone. Unless she’s in deep shit, too deep to handle or putting herself in danger? you gotta let her make her choices.” He leaned back in their private booth. “I’m serious about working at my lounge though. You’d make a great M.C. Fizzy-frog.”

Fizz agreed to perform at Ozzie’s, with the frequent scheduling starting in a few weeks. He had prior commitments with Mammon to take care of first. Doing nightly shows at the lounge would mean moving to Lust.

Before that, he wanted to talk with Barb. The first chance he got was almost a week later, after they were done at Mammon’s for the day. Fizz had to steal himself to talk to his friend so he went to her apartment after hyping himself up via a phone call with Asmodeus.

Barb, meanwhile, had taken a hit of her current drug of choice as soon as she got home. It was the first big high she’d had in the past two weeks. When Fizz showed up at her door unannounced, she could feel the drugs hitting her system. Although he looked serious and she was trying to focus on what he said, the chemical filter in her veins meant she really only caught a few words. Kind of like those snippets of Blitzo’s postcards.

“Barb, I know you’ve got a problem. You’ve been using drugs again, I can tell. We need to get you help, but we can’t do it here. Asmodeus offered me a gig, I’ll need to move to Lust. Please, come with me. I can’t stand seeing you destroy yourself. We’ll get away from all this shit in Greed. Get you some fucking help.”

Barb tried to string together what he was saying. What truly stuck with her was he was moving. Leaving for Lust and Asmodeus. Away from her. She growled angrily. “Urrrgh! Fine, go fuck off with your royal sugar daddy! I don’t need you!” She pushed him away from her. Her intoxication meant she didn’t have much control of her strength. Her push knocked him against the wall; if he hadn’t hit it with his prosthetic arm, it would have left bruises.

She stomped to the door and yanked it open. “Get the fuck out Fizz. The other imp looked stricken so she pushed him again. This one sent him into the hallway. Barb slammed the door shut, locked it and  put the chain on. He had a spare key, but even his extendable arms would struggle with the chain. She pressed her back against the door and slid down it as Fizz knocked desperately. He kept saying her name but she didn’t respond. She just curled up, silent and crying.

Eventually, he was gone. Her sense of time was completely distorted. Maybe it had been an hour, maybe just a couple minutes. She just wanted to forget about everything again. Fortunately, past Barb had picked up a baggie full of little friends from her dealer that were very good at helping her forget.

A few days later, she’d come down enough to realize she had to go work. That many pill-shaped friends weren’t cheap. But when she got to Mammon’s main offices, her keycard didn’t work. Barb tried multiple times, flipping the card in different directions but she continued to get error sounds. She was ready to punch the scanner when the door opened smoothly.

The shark demon that stepped out towered over Barb. “What do you want?” No politeness, just blunt demanding attitude.

“I want to get to work. Why isn’t my keycard working?” She waved the offending piece of plastic in front of the shark’s snout.

His concentric ringed eyes focused on the card, reading her name. “Barb Buckzo. Yeah, your position’s been…terminated.” He gave her a leering grin and flicked the card. His claw hit with enough force to send it spinning out of her hand and down the street.

“The fuck d’you mean, ‘terminated’? I’m Fizz’s  assistant and bodyguard!”

“Not no more. You haven’t been here for a week. Mr. Fizzarolii and Lord Mammon don’t need some lazy ass coasting on her buddy’s success.” He straightened up to his full height. The shark crossed his arms and continued to match her glaring look. “So you’re out, shoulda got a termination letter in yer mail.” 

Her jaw dropped. Those assholes! “I wanna talk to Fizz. Right now!” She tried to push past the beefy shark, but he outweighed her and Fizz combined. 

“Mr. Fizzarolli is busy. Lord Mammon is free for the next ten minutes if you wanna talk to him.” Barb growled, a rumbling hiss coming from her chest. “Thought so.” The shark went back inside and the door slid shut behind him.

Barb stood there, chest heaving. She had mostly come down from her high and there was no drugged filter between her and her emotions. After a few minutes of glaring at the locked doors, she started hurling nearby rocks at the building. Her aim was still good from all those years in the circus. But those doors were designed to withstand bullets; a valid concern with all the turf wars likely to pop up in this Ring.

All the rocks in Hell wouldn’t do much to the structure. Barb didn’t care; if anything it made her madder. She kept hurling the same rocks over and over, screaming obscenities all the while. Until she threw one that ricocheted back, hitting her directly on her circus brand and knocking her on her butt.

She sat there, dazed. The pain on her forehead belatedly hit and she rubbed the spot to find ichor welling from the scratch. “Fine. FINE, YOU HEAR ME! YOU CAN GO FUCK YOURSELVES! HAVE FUN BEING A PAMPERED WHORE FIZZ! YOU’RE JUST LIKE THAT TRAITOR BLITZO!” Barb turned away, rubbing her upper arms with both hands as she tried to keep the anger in the forefront. She flipped of the building as she walked home.

Not that the studio apartment would be home much longer. She was behind on rent and her landlord was ready to kick her out. Checking her mail, she found the termination letter; included was her severance check. Not enough to back pay everything. But enough to find somewhere else. Something cheaper and closer to the drug dens she was visiting more often. 

Within two days, she was gone, ghosting everyone in her life.

—————

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[glitterdustcyclops]

dear dumplings,

hi hello yes hi, dearest mutuals, my beloved gay people in my phone, this is your semi-regular reminder that i fucking LOVE sending mail to people, and if you would like a delightful mail surprise of your own, PLEASE dm me!! i am literally always down to become penpals and i have a deeply unnecessary amount of stickers that i would desperately love to share with y'all

there is never any obligation to send anything in return, but if you want to, you know, that would be cool too 👉👈

as a fun bonus you might even get your own original froggy doodle, depending on how ambitious i'm feeling at the time. there are literally no downsides here folks!! reach out to your friendly neighborhood chocolate today!!

side note: at the time i am currently only comfortable with exchanging letters with people i am mutuals with. if you are a penpal inclined person i would probably enjoy becoming mutuals with you, but i would at least like to have a couple conversations first. security/privacy reasons, you understand.

[stardustshimmer]

Hmmm, just want to know will the same mail fairy be delivery mail for the random event blog or will there be two different ones? As we had a event like less than 2 weeks ago where the mail room/ask container was aflame so if both are the same fairly then there will likely be events like that where it would in danger normal asks. Of course there are other problems including the fact random events are typically more physical and supposed to be people in the same area which would not make sense for your mail courier fairy to be couriering random event mail where it would have to reach you in events like the froggie one or the one where I filled a building with ants, put serval birds that can be extremely deadly but shy, put serval rabid badgers in a car, and put multiple pounds of an explosive material down a chute and the only to come out of it is someone and the birds getting rabies.

Mae survived the fire and she’s voluntarily working double time.

It shouldn’t be that difficult for her because I think the most amount of asks I get in a day should be from the sideblog.

[bestbugs]

🐛 Diary, Entry 1. (April 11, 2023)

I am super excited to get my ita bag in the mail! This bag will be my very first ita bag— which will be nice, because a lot of my friends have given me pins that I’ve accidentally lost when they fell off my other bags. In a bag like an ita bag, your pins can’t really get lost!

This is the little guy I’ll be getting! I’ve had my eye on these bags since Blushsprout’s very first froggie bag kickstarter— but I couldn’t afford to back it at the time. I’m so glad this worked out the way it did!

Sometimes I miss being in Girl Scouts and getting badges and pins for my achievements— so I’ve decided that all of my pins will be “achievement based”. When I am brave enough to go to the dentist again, I will get myself a tooth shaped pin to put inside. I also have a super important doctor appointment coming up— so I will make sure to give myself a pin for that achievement, too!

It will become something I won’t only love because it’s cute, but I will love it because it will be a reminder of how brave I have been— as well as how much I have / will achieve!

I will make sure to post lots of pictures of it once it arrives!

(This diary entry will also go under my “interests” list— because bags and backpacks are huge interests of mine!)

[daily-life-of-crow]

August 1st, 2022

Today was not fun. Very hot and still no ac. Hyena called me that was fun. Then my father who asked me to do things. Then my grandma Ohio >:(. Not fun. Then I took the four wheeler to get the mail and I drove around a bit and I saw my neighbor in the excavator. Good thing I turned around on the path I was on because he was doing things at the end of that one. Anyways funky times. Then my mom came home :). Made us dinner it was good. Then I was on call with Penguin and Froggie and let me say that me, Froggie, and Opossum are now traumatized. Anyways today was my dogs birthday and he is 12 or 13 now. He old boy. Anyways I am heading to bed so night. Also here is picture of the boy!

Songs on Loop:

Nowhere To Run by Stegosaurus Rex

Fell asleep to agoraphobic by CORPSE

New Information:

About 20% of Earth’s oxygen is produced by the Amazon rainforest.

Goal Progress:

Cleaned and laundry

[crazywolf828]

My friend wasn't lying when he said he'd buy me a dick. My first packer is now on its way.

[smokbeast]

hi i wanna say i absolutely adore your art and fang especially hes so gmoijgiohgioeahgoiehaogheoa <3

[inkykeiji]

i’m truly lost for words i. your hard work paid off so fucking much clari i can’t even begin to describe the emotions i felt reading that piece. it was just orchestrated so beautifully, portraying each line so diligently. the description of each sentence and- oh god i’m just waffling all my thoughts here but. wow. i’m so proud of you. it took me well over an hour to read it just due to the fact i sobbed so hard. i loved every bit of it, please don’t critique yourself too much, please. it’s perfect. thank you so much for delivering. i love you, little lily pad. - 🐸

ah my sweet green friend!!!! your words brought tears to MY eyes; thank you so, so, so much. i’m over the moon to hear that you loved it so much and that it was able to affect you to such a degree oh my gosh!!! if you’re comfortable sharing, i would absolutely love to hear which scenes were the ones that got you the most (but absolutely no pressure at all!!) <33 ahahahaha i am naturally extremely harsh on myself but i am trying to keep in mind that i am only human and i am trying my best!!! thank YOU so much, both for this lovely review and always sending me lil asks that make me laugh, i love you so much!!!! <33333

FROGGY PLS U KILL ME AHAHAHAH I’M SO SORRY I HOPE UR FEELING BETTER NOW PLS FORGIVE ME FOR LAUGHING EEEEE

[paintpostcardposse]

froggy card

🤠💻🎨📬

[froginvader]

I hope you and your family stays safe!

     Thank you! We’ll be fine!

[fan-art-ic]

Don't Stop Here

She's back. Anne is really back on Earth. She can hardly believe it.

(Picks up immediately after the episode ends) (ao3 link in reblog)

Anne can hardly believe it. Cars honked around her and every breath is heavy with unnatural smog. She meets eyes with a human stranger, who lifts a phone very quickly and stares bug-eyed at her. Not at her, no, at her family. She turns to Hop-pop, Sprig, and Polly, all scratched, bruised, tired, afraid, and looking at her with trust in their eyes. Hop-pop croaks and coughs and Anne notices her frog family's skin is graying. She has to get them out of here. Off the hood of the car, over five lanes of traffic, hopped over the guardrail, down the hill, through a sparse copse of trees, to the sidewalk under the bridge and-

"Anne?" A pink hand tugs on her wrist. "Anne, stop. Please." Her feet stumble to a stop and her socked foot lands on something sharp and cutting and she gasps.

"Anne!"

Two sets of hands catch her torso, and she faintly feels a wet touch pulling at her ankle. Her family carefully let her down, so she lands heavily on her butt instead of her nose. Anne's next breath is a punch of air and her lungs brighten with pain as she loses control of her inhales and exhales. Her eyes hurt and burn. When she wipes a dirty hand across her face, she winces as hot tears and snot sting her injuries. A light weight settles onto her back and rubs in a circular motion. Anne clings to the sensation. Between sputtering breaths, she begins to hear. "-in...and out...in...and out," Hop-pop's soothing, raspy voice repeats and then she can hear Sprig humming. It's a song Wally wrote about a silly snail getting lost and he had sung it at her Frog of the Year party. A laugh bubbles up into a sob and Anne reaches out her arms to pull all three of them close.

"I love you guys," she chokes out, and Polly pats her cheek.

"We love you too, Anne," says the polliwog, normally so energetic now wrung out and too bright-eyed. She needs to pull herself together. Anne releases her grip and her family takes a step back. She runs her hands through her hair and shakes her head, dust and dirt and surprisingly long twigs falling to the broken concrete.

"Alright, froggy fam," she begins, "I'm going to take you to meet my human fam." Sprig whoops, but he's clearly flagging.

"Yay!..."

Anne grimaces and looks at Hop-pop. The old, orange frog meets her gaze steadily, but she can tell how much he is missing his cane. "Hop-pop, you got Polly, I got Sprig?" He nods. "Alright. Let's make our way to the highway, follow along till we hit an exit, follow that till we hit town, figure out where we are, call my parents. Sound good?" No one protests and Anne helps Sprig up to her shoulder as Hop-pop collects Polly.

.

They're maybe ten minutes into their walk, and every step is a jolt to her nervous system. Her skin feels prickly, her jaw too tight, her muscles ache like never before. The pressure of her Newtopian breastplate, once reassuring, weighs her every step like a lodestone.  The heron-leather straps pinch at the underside of her arms. Sprig's cool, damp skin is refreshing against the back of her neck, but it's not slimy enough and it concerns Anne. She bites her lip and tries to time her steps so that her sneaker hits the rocks and roots, while her socked-foot hits bare earth. She isn't always successful, and everything is starting to throb. Her temples pulse loudly in her head and her knees are weak and her mouth is parched.

"Shh, shh, it's okay, Polly..." Hop-pop murmurs behind her. She can't see him, but she hears the dragging footsteps crunch the dry grass and the low comfortings of the grandfather to the polliwog. A stabbing pain shoots through her chest, and Anne forces her legs into a march. Focuses on the act of raising her thigh, swinging her calf forward, shifting her weight, repeat ad infinitum.

In seventh grade health class, there had been only one day dedicated to 'mental health issues' and something mentioned was meditative breathing. In multiple P.E. classes, Anne heard the teachers talk about making sure to breath while exercising. One, two, three. In. One, two, three. Out. Anne can do this.

.

The clouds parted a bit as they walked and the sun is nearly blinding Anne, as she squints at the sign. DALY STREET EXIT, it read in giant white text on green. Okay, so now they can get out of the weird in-between highway area they've been hiking. She points at it. "This way."

Something is mumbled behind her back.

"Huh?" She stops to turn and looks at Hop-pop. "What's up?" The elderly frog's face is twisted in a very non-confidence inspiring way.

"Well...Anne, I can't help but notice you don't have your backpack. Or...or your phone. So-" All Anne could hear was a piercing, ringing sound. Her hands clenched and unclenched.

"Right," says Anne, interrupting whatever the old frog had been saying. "Right. I don't have my backpack or phone." She blinks rapidly and Hop-pop's brow furrows deeper grooves. Her fingernails dig grooves of equal depth into her palms. "Okay, so," she claps her hands and ignores Sprig and Polly startle, "we will keep going. We will find someone kind and nice who will be willing to call my parents. End of plan."

"Great plan," Sprig yawns in her ear, and she can't help the yawn in return. It stretches her neck muscles and she yawns again for good measure. Polly yawns, then Hop-pop, then her and Polly at the same time. They all smile and the moment of brevity gets the family going again, the plan -no matter how little Anne believes in it herself- solidly in mind and the goal spurring them on. Not too much further now.

.

The sign for 7-11 flickers and there is a closed down Redbox sitting stoutly next to a ash-tray/trash can. The ad in the window advertises Berry Glam Blitz Bomb and a two for four hotdogs sale. Her stomach rumbles.

Her family is crowded together outside the storefront, and Anne doesn't know what to do. She's loathe to leave the Plantars by themselves, but maybe the cashier won't be the most cynical soul in Los Angeles. Then the frogs won't go under the risk of wandering the streets, talking to strangers. She can't bring them in though, what if the employee freaks out (like...any reasonable person confronted by talking frog people would). A clammy, orange hand taps her arm twice. She looks down.

"We'll be okay for five minutes, Anne," reassures Hop-pop. "Hand me Sprig." She doesn't hand him Sprig so much as the pink frog melts off her back and flops down next to his grandfather, but either way transfer successful. Okay now it's just time to interact with a human who isn't one of her two childhood best friends. She can't be totally out of practice right?

Marcy's eyes had been so wide when she died. Her pretty, dark brown eyes glittering from the light of Andrias' sword. From the flashing blue of the portal home. From tears.

Anne swallows roughly and steps toward the entrance. She scolds herself when the self-automated doors startle her, and she glances around the store. Someone tall and bald by the coolers, someone on the phone in the back, besides them and Anne the place is empty. Well, and the cashier. She approaches the register before she can one-eighty out the stupid doors, and she clears her throat. The cashier, a young guy with bright green and black hair and a name tag reading 'Jared', looks up from his phone.

"Hey-o, ready to check out?"

"Um, no actually," Anne starts and stops. What is she supposed to say? "I...dropped my phone and it cracked badly," she lies. "I was supposed to meet up with my mom but I can't get the dang thing to turn on." She laughs, short and high-pitched, rubbing her neck. "Is there like, a store phone I could borrow to call her?"

Jared raises his eyebrows. "No, there isn't a store phone. If you buy something I could exchange dollars for quarters, I think there's a phone booth near here." The lights are buzzing really loudly, Anne notices. She takes a deep breath.

"Sorry, that doesn't work. Could I borrow your phone?" She sees how the older guy assesses her. She sees her dirty torn school skirt, her scorched copper armor, the twigs that she can't stop finding in her hair. "Or could I give you her number? Please, I just want to get back to my mom." Jared's frown softens and his mouth opens to speak, but is cut off by a voice behind Anne.

"Annie Bone-choy?" Her neck complains at the speed she turns to look. The bald person she saw earlier. Face contorted in open surprise, finger pointed in her direction, he says in a nasally SoCal accent, "Your parents have been looking everywhere for you."

"Do I know you?" Anne asks. Bald guy shakes his head. "No. I like your parents restaurant, amazing noodles by the way, and they have your missing posters all over the front. Yours and two other girls."

"I thought you lost your phone and were meeting up with your mom," Jared unhelpful interjects. Anne looks between both of them.

"Can I please use someone's phone to call my mom?" The two adults look at each other.

"Tell me your mom's number," says Jared tentatively. Anne rattles off the ten digit code with ease. She remembers sitting in the kitchen and her mom helping her arrange plastic magnet numbers in the order of her cell phone number. Jared puts the phone on speaker and the dialing tone begins to ring. Once, twice, three times, four...

"Hi! This is Madee Boonchuy. Not here right now, please leave a message!" The messaging system beeps and Anne just shakes her head at Jared. He ends the call.

"Can you please try again?" She pleads. Jared frowns, but does as requested. The dialing rings again. And gets voice-mail, again.

"I could call the restaurant," the bald guy offers. "It's not exactly rush hour but they are open right now, right?" Anne blinks away the stinging in her eyes. She has no idea what time it is, no idea what day or month or even if it's the same year. Who knows how Amphibia time lines up with Earth time?

"Can you? Please?" He nods and pulls out his phone. A minute while he finds the contact, and now for the third time, the phone rings on speaker. Anne knows what they say about third tries, and she crosses her fingers tightly.

"Hello? Delivery or pick-up?" Familiar, accented English, and Anne has to resist falling to the floor.

"Mom," Anne whispers in Thai, and the voice on the line speaks rapidly.

"Anne? Sweetheart? Oh my god, Anne? Anne?"

"It's me Mom. It's Anne," Anne sniffs and hiccups.

Some sharp, unintelligible yelling comes out the receiver, and there is a rustling and slamming sound before Anne's mom replies, "Where are you?"

Anne blue screens for a second. "I'm..." She struggles to remember. "I'm at a 7-11."

"What? Where? What street?"

"Daly Street," Jared pipes up.

"Who is that?" Her mother says sharply.

"That's just the cashier, he was, he was helping me. Well and another guy who comes to the restaurant apparently? I uh, he says he recognized me from my posters, huh, I didn't realize I'd have any," Anne rambles.

"I'm coming to you, Anne," Her mom promises. "I'm going to hug you so much. I'm coming to you. I have to hang up now, to get in the car, but do not go. Please."

"I promise," says Anne, and when her mom ends the call, she starts crying.

.

She exits the 7-11 once she gets the bald guy and Jared to distract each other (i.e. purchasing a bottled soda), and she spots the Plantars immediately. They're on top of a parked USPS truck. When Anne peers around the vehicle to see the other side of the street, she spies the mailman making his way towards the truck. Crap.

"Guys!" She hisses through clenched teeth. She raps her knuckles against the truck's side and hear Polly yelp. "Guys, get off the truck!" A moment later, Hop-pop and Sprig land beside her, Polly in her brother's arms. Anne pulls them over to the Redbox and huddles on the side opposite to the store entrance. She steps in front of them, hoping her body will shield enough of the frogs so nobody looks closer.

"Your mom is gonna be here soon?" Sprig asks. Anne nods.

"Yep, she'll...she'll be here soon." There's no response, and there is a take-a-tab paper taped to the trash can advertising singing lessons, and it's all Anne can do to not remember the time Sasha threw a karaoke party and they all started singing badly and together, and Anne blinks and keeps talking.

"My mom will come, and she's probably in her mini-van, oh man she's gonna tear through like twenty stop signs and scare other drivers so bad," she snorts, "and maybe there'll be a loose water bottle or a chip bag in the car, and oh man, you guys don't know what sour cream and onion chips are I can't wait to show you-"

"Anne," Hop-pop cuts her off. "Don't forget to breathe." She sucks in a deep breath and feels bile creeping up her throat. She tries to swallow but her mouth is so dry it just hurts. She can't imagine how her frog family's is feeling compared to her, they must be feeling so much worse than her, and they haven't said anything yet. Anne exhales forcefully. When a hand squeezes around her own, she squeezes back reassuringly.

They all jump as a dark red mini-van screeches to a halt in front of the 7-11. The driver exits the car, not wasting time to even park, and runs towards them. "Anne!"

"Mom!!!" Anne cries and she takes only a few steps before she's barreled over.

"Anne, oh my god, thank the heavens it's you! Anne, Anne, oh my baby," Anne's mom sobs into her shoulder before pulling back. Anne stares at her mother. Lets her eyes trace the deepened wrinkles, notice the shining, brown eyes the same shade as her own, the beauty mark on her chin. Her mom's glasses are new. Anne can't remember what they'd been, but now her mom wears tortoiseshell frames.

"I like your glasses," is the first thing to tumble out of Anne's mouth, and she nearly slaps herself. Her mom laughs wetly.

"Oh, Anne, oh, I've missed you so much." Her mother folds her back into her arms. Anne hugs back as tightly as she can for a second before her mom stiffens with a surprised grunt. "And you're so much stronger, when did that happen?"

Anne smiles. "I'll tell you about it." She steps back and grabs her mom by the shoulders. They're the same height now. "I'll tell you all about it." And that means... "Mom, let me introduce you to the Plantars," Anne steps to her mom's side and reveals her froggy family.

Her mother gasps and says something in Thai that Anne doesn't know. She would bet it's one of the worse swear words. "I know it's a shock, cuz, well, two foot tall talking frogs," says Anne and motions for the trio to come a bit closer. "But they protected me, fed me, and loved me while I was stranded in their world." Hop-pop shuffles the closes with Sprig and Polly poking their heads out behind him.

Hop-pop extends his hand. "My name is Hopadiah Plantar, it's an honor to meet you Mrs. Boonchuy." Her mom looks down at the wrinkly, orange hand and then back at Anne. She nods encouragingly and her mom steels herself before meeting the hand with her own.

She gingerly shakes it. "Pleasure to meet you...Hopadiah," Anne's mom says his name carefully. "My daughter says you kept her safe?" Hop-pop nods.

"To the best of my ability," and his face gains a wry look and he rubs the back of his neck. "When she and my grandkids weren't off chasing trouble."

Anne's mom smiles tentatively. "I'm sure. Are these your grandkids here?" Sprig comes out behind Hop-pop's back and puts out his hand.

"I'm Sprig Plantar! And this is-" A loud honk interrupts him and everyone in the group startles, moving to look at the source. A silver BMW is stuck behind her mom's mini-van and the one-way street doesn't give any wiggle around room. A shout filters out of the sports car. "MOVE YOUR CAR!" Except with a lot more swears. Anne's mom sighs.

"Introductions later, let's get in the car," she instructs and everyone moves.

All the frogs hesitate as they get closer, Sprig even flinching when Anne hauls open the back seat door with a slam. She gestures inside. "C'mon guys, it's just like a wagon," Anne says. Polly hops in first and settles into the closest middle row seat. She bounces a couple times.

"It's comfy," the polliwog reports. The jerk in the BMW honks again, even longer. Sprig and Hop-pop pile in and Anne closes the door behind them. She gets into the passenger seat and the feeling of air conditioning against her skin is like. Magic wind. Super relaxing. Like insane luxury. Oh, Anne missed technology.

"Buckle up." Her mom clicks her seat belt into the lock and starts pulling away immediately. Leaving Anne to explain what 'buckle up' means, and what a seat belt is, and no she doesn't know when they were invented. The questions continue as the mini-van pulls onto the highway, but the group soon quiets down. Anne blinks slowly and looks outside the window. The trees and billboards and other cars pass by her so quickly, so much quicker than Bessie could ever go. A pang strikes her heart as Anne realizes Bessie will be all alone. She hopes the Plantar's family snail is taken care of while they're gone. Anne looks away from the window as nausea grips her throat. She's almost home. She can hold off on falling apart for just a little longer.

.

"Anne, honey, are you awake? We're home."

Anne blinks and she squeezes her eyes tight and yawns loudly and long. She hadn't realized she dozed off. "I'm...home." She opens the door and doesn't let her twinging feet deter her from getting a good look at her home. The small bushes that lined the driveway, the slightly dented mailbox, the umbrella her dad always left outside the red door. Anne drinks it all in.

For the past several months she had been in a world with fantastical flora and fauna and shocking experiences every day, but Anne feels dizzy at the sight of her home. Her eyes catch on every detail, the once too-familiar not familiar enough. The bristly door mat; the unpolished brass numbers: 301; the creaky porch step; the small, pink, clay owl figurine Anne had given to her mom for Mother's Day in fifth grade and sat tucked in the corner. Her eyelashes are sticky with tears.

"Your house is SOOOOOOOOO BIG!" Anne snorts and is grateful for Sprig. She turns around to look at the small, pink frog.

"It's pretty nice! I've loved growing up here. Three-oh-one Silver Spring Lane." A gobsmacked look.

"You have springs made of silver?" Sprig's jaw drops. Hop-pop's head pokes out of the van.

"What's this I hear of silver springs?"

Surprisingly, it's Anne's mom who answers. She laughs, and it soothes Anne, before saying, "No, Hopadiah. It's just a nice name for a road." Anne tunes out what Hop-pop replies in favor of turning back to the door.

The metal door handle is hot to touch, searing from the oppressive California heat. She breathes out in a harsh whoosh and forces herself to yank the door open. It slams against the wall and the hinges squeak. Anne hears a sound of protest from her mom, but she can't acknowledge it when there's a bullet of fluff running towards the door.

"DOMINO!" The cat jumps into Anne's arms and she catches her, swinging Domino around and around and gosh, will Anne ever stop crying today? She hides her tears in Domino's soft, white belly, and laughs as the cat wiggles around to climb up her shoulders. Domino wraps around her neck and rubs Anne's check with her cute, little face.

Anne collapses to her knees and she pulls her cat around and holds her so carefully and so, so close. Domino allows this longer than ever before, but soon she does squirm and fall to the carpet on all four feet. She chirps and purrs vacuum-like. Anne's hands move on their own accord, stroking down Domino's back, scratching all her sweet spots, reacquainting herself with her Domino, her beautiful angel baby.

"Anne, could you move your reunion a few feet more into the hallway? So we can come in?" Her mom says, her tone telling Anne she's smiling. Anne kisses her baby's head one more time before standing up and moves to the side. Ugh, her knees hurt from carpet burn. That's one thing she hadn't missed.

"Sprig, Polly, Hop-pop! Remember the killapillar?" Anne scoops up Domino and holds her out. "This is Domino One!" Sprig steps closer, squinting. He pokes at Domino's paw and she mrrps! at him. He flinches back for a second before staring deep into her eyes. Anne watches this stare-off with no small amount of amusement.

Eventually, Sprig asks, "So this Domino won't kill us for dinner?" Anne shakes her head and a leaf drifts from her hair.

"Nope!"

Sprig oh so slowly reaches a finger to Domino's long-haired back. "Oh!" He says, curling his fingers through the fur. "She's even softer than peatmoss."

Polly joins her brother and jumps up and down on her new, little legs. "Let me pet her!" Anne leans back down, but Domino wriggles out her grip and runs down the hallway, disappearing around the kitchen corner. Polly pouts. "Aw! I wanted to touch Domino One."

Anne pats her yellow bow. "Don't worry. There's plenty of time for that later."

"I believe a good use of time right now," Anne's mom says, still lingering in the open door, "would be for you to change out of your dirty clothes. Go take a shower."

Anne stares at her mom stunned. "Oh my god...," she whispers. "I shall finally be clean." Sprig laughs.

"Are there no showers where you come from?" Anne's mom asks Hop-pop as Anne still revels in the very idea of pressurized water.

"I can't say I know what a shower-whatsit is, but we did bathe," Hop-pop says archly, half at Anne's mom and half at her. Her mom nods understandingly. Then frowns.

"Do you have any spare clothes with you?" She asks and all the Plantars go wide-eyed.

"We..." Hop-pop can't finish his sentence hands twisting his ascot. Sprig looks morose and he's holding onto his slingshot tightly. Polly is similar, tugging at her frayed and dirty yellow bow. Anne's heart twinges, and she cuts in.

"We didn't exactly have time to pack our wardrobes when we came, Mom," she says. "I have piggy bank money, we can go shopping guys! You guys have to see the mall. This time, my treat," she tries to cheer up the little frogs.

Sprig and Polly perk up at the mention of visiting the mall, but Hop-pop and her mom both protest at once.

"Anne, that's mighty kind of you, but-"

"Anne, that's very generous, but-"

Both stop and her mom motions for the frog to continue. Hop-pop waits a second more before saying, "Anne, you don't need to spend your savings on us. We can make do if you just show us to a wash bucket and a needle with thread. When these get worn out, we'll cross that river when we come to it." Anne's mom then lays a hand on Hop-pop's shoulder, slightly crouching to reach. Hop-pop nods at her.

Her mom smiles before saying to him, "I can certainly show you the washing machine, but we'll figure out another set of clothes for you." Her gaze casts over Sprig, Polly, and Anne. "For all of you. And Anne," her mom walks up to her and she smiles with glistening eyes, "when did you grow up so much?" She brings Anne into a tight hug before releasing her. And boops her nose. Anne squeals. Her mom smiles. "I will pay for the shopping. Now!" She claps. "Shoes off."

Everyone looked down at their feet and noticed the frogs didn't have any. "Ah well, shoes and...shoe off. Anne, what happened to your shoe?"

Anne waves it off. "Lost it a few months ago." Her mother grumbles and Anne suspects she'll be getting a new pair of sneakers in the near future. Then it occurs to her, "Where's Dad?"

"He had to stay to make sure the delivery went smoothly since Jackson quit and everyone else messes it up," her mom explains while running her hands through Anne's hair.

Anne gasps. "No! Not Jackson."

"Yes, Jackson," replies her mom. Her fingers tug painfully through Anne's hair and come away holding a handful of leaves and twigs. "Is there an entire forest in your head? Now off you go, shower. Get the dirt off," she commands. Anne rolls her eyes.

"Yes, Mom," Anne says in Thai and kisses her cheek. She looks to the Plantars. "You guys okay with my mom showing you around the house? Show you somewhere to sit and some water?"

Hop-pop nods and Polly wiggles. "I have a mighty THIRST," she yells. Anne giggles.

"Well, alright froggy fam. See you on the flip side," and she starts to head up the steps, her fingers trailing the railing, when a cough causes her to pause. She glances back.

"Anne..." Sprig says, "welcome home."

Tears spill over her cheeks and Anne half-falls down the stairs to give him a tight hug. Quickly, other froggy arms surround the two and are joined by a pair of human arms. All together, all safe, all alive. Anne takes a deep breath, and exhales heavily. She's back home.

[moonnhare]

on the subject of self loathing— with a peculiar lack of loathing

i hate you. i don’t, actually, but at the same time i really do. it’s not because i want you to like me anymore. i don’t need your admiration. i hate you because i understand you perfectly. or at least this apostle aspect of you; the worship, the love and corruption. the worms.

i hate you because i am you. the position of the sun in the sky and i hate copying you— hate discovering myself after you— and we’re the same again. fuck. i don’t want to be you. i don’t want to know exactly what you mean. my lover gives me a sharp

kick and a snarl and all i can think is how

i am the dog. fuck the dog. i hate the dog. i hate your dog but it’s a damn good metaphor, isn’t it? so i’m stealing it. the art community would make a fuss. they swarm tracers. draw imaginary scuffed lines between referencing and plagiarism in an instagram-slides infographic. it’s all art. it shouldn’t matter.

i think sometimes that i am intrinsically good. other times i think i am very bad, but i like that better. there’s more freedom to it. it means i don’t have to text back; it feels like the BART train car when i’m alone in it, or my dorm’s gray stairwell. like walking around at night hoping i’m masc-presenting enough to not get stolen away somewhere. i’m not happiest when i’m lonely, that’s not what i’m saying, but i’m most comfortable. there are no obligations when you aren’t trying to be good. there’s no guilt— it’s the guilt that eats me. a bad person can shrug it off or not feel it at all.

a bad person doesn’t answer their mom’s call because they’re too high to hold a conversation. a bad person tells their dad yes i’ve been studying hard after a day in bed. a bad person lets their hunger burn through them because they don’t feel like going to eat. fuck. i don’t know what’s wrong with me. i can feel my hip bones and it’s not stemming from society or image or whatever bullshit runs rampant on this site. i’m just bad at taking care of myself.

but even if i wanted i couldn’t be all bad. good people mail their favorite roommate’s poster for them and vacuum up the dirt they spilled. they realize they don’t hate their other roommate sometimes. they tell their parents they love them and can’t wait to be home. they treat themself to pearl tea after a final. they try to make friends— 408, do you want to smoke my froggy pipe on the clark kerr roof? no, i’ve never been. take me there.

i’ve been writing, just not posting. i hate everything i write. honestly. i have to redo my whole novel. my friends and family still won’t read it even though i press. i don’t know why i want them to. it’s not good and the first half is endlessly boring. my grandma’s friend offered to help me edit it and said it was so boring she wanted to make up an excuse to stop. it was constructive, i’ll give her that. certainly got the message through.

i could be the burnout novelist but i know i’m not. remember that time we wrestled in PE? unstoppable force versus immovable object, you said. i’ve always been the unstoppable force. you’ve always been the immovable object. we both have roots at home but i’ve always felt the need to run, and you stay trapped. but in other ways, i think, our roles are reversed. my point is that i could be the burnout novelist but i don’t know how to give up. giving up has never been an option. i get everything i want. the problem stems from my love for the chase.

look. i’m not talking to you as a friend here. i’m talking to you as a fan; you’re not supposed to take any notice of me. i just admire your work. i relate to it. i write to you now like i’d write to… fucking mitski or siken or someone. better yet, a priest in a wooden box. there’s a leash around my neck. i cant stand it, but that’s stupid. i’m happy, i just hate the restraint. i want to do things solely because i’m not supposed to— i want to be rash but i’m not. i want to be angry, sometimes, but i never am. just tired when she’s mad for a reason i don’t understand.

i don’t know why you were so mad about the trash. lately i’ve been wanting to fight back. i’m bad sometimes. bad dogs bite. you make me want to gnaw the leash. i’ve never been the victim.

[pbandjesse]

So I thought I had an interview today. But it was not an interview at all! Because the woman from the Y kept referring to me as the new lead teacher at this site. So...Not an interview! I have the job and I start on monday! 

I am slightly conflicted but Ill get to that later. 

I slept pretty well. I woke up at 8 like I am supposed to. But I wanted so much to go back to sleep.  My navel piercing tore a little again and I had to take the jewelry out. Its very annoying. I have had this piercing for almost a decade but now I am getting psoriasis on it? Really?? At least all the other parts of my skin is healing really well. Im actually shocked but also worried about what I go off the steroid. Cause in the past its just all come back as soon as I stop. But at least for now I can enjoy it. 

I did get up though. I got a shower. I bothered James. He made me a bagel. I teased him for how little cream cheese he put on it. And after chilling in the dungeon for a while I went to work on some art. 

I had to sew a little tear on the dress I wore today. And the I just got to work on some of the last frog things Im making before the store goes live. I found a bag of hair clips so I didnt need to go buy any and that was exciting. I also worked on putting holes in the backs of the lego froggies. I am waiting on the heart beads still but the frogs went well. 

The car was still not ready at noon. So James coordinated with him dad to borrow the car from him and walked to the monument to pick it up. I was nervous to drive someone elses car. James gave me some tips but I was still really scared.

I had lunch while James was gone. Cleaned up the apartment a little more. Made sure I had everything I needed. My notebook and stuff. Cleaned up my eyebrows. Was nervous!! But then James was back and I had to actually think about leaving.

 But James got me a gift! It came in the mail! Its that fragrant jewels brand that is like bath bombs and candles with rings in it. They all smell like chocolate. I am excited to see what I get. He's the sweetest boy. 

I left early. Because of course I did. I had a podcast. And it was a quick drive. Its about 20 minutes give or take. But man. It was so scary driving this car. It didnt coast like ours does, and I couldnt figure out how to put the head lights on. And I was just so nervous. But it ended up being fine but I was still scared the whole time.

I got to the place and it was nice! The neighborhood was nice. Solidly middle class. The location is next to a school. But its a Police Athletic League. And I dont know how I feel about that!! Like I firmly. Do NOT LIKE COPS. I dont want to be associated with the police. But also. The kids?? I want to help the kids. And Im not working for the cops. Im working for the Y. And the two guys who are working their are the sweetest guys. Older black men. Special education teachers. Kind and funny. So like. I have hopes. But yeah. It feels weird. 

Lana, the Y contact, was parked in front of me and I texted her I was there and once she was done her conference call we walked over to the building. 

And like I said the two men were so nice. We had a meeting and thats when I realized, oh I have this job. Because she kept referring to me as the lead teacher. Eventually I jumped in and was like. Hey BTW! This is my background and sort of gave my teaching history so that they had an idea of who I am. I will also have an aid, but she wasnt there today. I hope she's nice. 

After the meeting the guys gave me a tour. Its a small building but is also very nicely laid out. Have a few different rooms. I have some ideas for how the space Ill be in could work. And while I am mostly there as support for the kids, I will have some time to do arts projects with them. Im excited for how much freedom I have but also they dont actually have any registered kids yet so I dont know the ages besides that they have it open for 5 to 17. Ill make it work. 

After the tour we basically said see you at 8am on monday! And I was like. Awesome. And headed out.

I didnt exactly know where I was. But I also didnt want to be driving around a bunch in Tucker's car. But also I wanted wawa so I googled the closest one and headed there. I was starving. 

The wawa was actually really busy. It was hard to socially distance but I think most people tried their best. I got my sandwich and ate in the car. And then headed to drop off the car with Tucker. 

I had trouble parking but eventually I figured it out. I dont parallel park well on a good day but I did alright. And dropped off the keys with Tucker just minutes before the monument closed. So I made it! It was nice to see him. He won the raffle for tickets to the raven's game on sunday. I tisked at him but they are doing like a wild amount of distancing. So I hope its fine even if we arent happy about it. 

I walked home. And honestly it was a long walk but I had a nice time. The weather was good. I had a drink. I had a podcast. It was a good time. A man asked for a quarter and I had exactly that.  And it was just a good time. 

I got home and was in a good mood. I have been having a good night. Enjoying photographing more art. Making so many drafts on instagram in prep for the store opening on sunday. I have just been having a nice night. 

But I am tired. I think I am going to take a bath and use my new bath bomb and maybe the ring will come out?? I am looking forward to the surprise. 

I hope tomorrow is another good day. Sleep well everyone. Take care of yourselves.