#Showering a second round of love on my girl after yesterday's playlist <3

[theimpossiblescheme]

Another shorter piece inspired by @the-cat-at-the-theatre-door for Jelly’s day--I’ve had this idea kicking around in my head for a while, and I hope everyone likes it!

Her writer was still clicking away on that typewriter of his.  Day in and day out, always by the same window overlooking the rose garden… he always seemed to get stuck on the same page, too, pulling out the paper and crumpling it up and starting again.  Just like humans, wasn’t it, to insist on the silliest things?  Any cat could do it better in a few hours, simply by walking across the keys just so, but her writer never seemed to think of the obvious things.  He just spent a few more hours clicking away.

Of course, he wasn’t really her writer.  But he’d almost been.  Once upon a time.

Jellylorum had tried to be a proper housecat, she really had.  She knew how to use a litter box and eat out of a ceramic dish and play without using her claws too much.  And she hadn’t been much fuss, or at least she’d tried not to be.  All she needed was a patch of sunlight and a few scraps of fish when she could get them, and she was happy.  It was a lovely house, too—all blue with painted flowers and animals and bright curtains adorning every window.  Apparently, he’d tried to be an artist first, but there hadn’t been any money in it, which never made any sense to Jelly.  Why on earth would anyone pay money for art?  Did humans pay money to sing, too, or dance or have any fun at all?  Why put something so beautiful, so essential, behind a way of nonsense papers and numbers? Then again, she’d never pretended to understand why humans did anything, so why start now?  She only watched curiously as he took up writing instead, making a corner of his bedroom into a little office space and filling notebooks with ideas every night.  Before he went to bed, her writer would tell her about his future creations, every story and character he wanted to share with the world, and she listened raptly. Even if she couldn’t quite follow every word he said, she still hung on them—he was excited, so she was excited, and it brought to mind every fairy tale and adventure epic her parents had told her as a kitten.  When he turned out the light, Jelly curled up at the end of his bedspread and went to sleep, content as she’d ever been.  For a time.

She’d tried to stay there. Tried to tell herself she would never want for more.  But every cat’s feet start to itch if they can’t find enough roads and pathways, and that was how she found the Junkyard again.  She’d been several times as a kitten, and it was astounding how little it had changed.  There was the same broken-down old car, the same tire propped up on cinder blocks, the same stringy clothesline stretching high above the wall… it felt like a time capsule. Except the inhabitants had changed. Her father was still there and her brother and sister, and so was dearest Jenny from across the way who always smelled like kitchens and tap shoe polish.  And there were so many kittens.  She couldn’t turn a corner without hearing a little voice, making her heart swell every time.  One kitten in particular, a silvery tom with black stripes and the most serious eyes she had seen in anyone so young, liked nothing more than to sit with her and Asparagus whenever he couldn’t find anyone to play with.  Eventually Jenny, Hathor, and Skimble would join them, and they became a little council of six.  Demeter and Bombalurina also needed someone to play with, so Jelly and Jenny would take her off for an explore, mostly to spare Asparagus’s poor nerves.  Occasionally, kittens would just turn up as well, and they would need to be assigned a den to sleep in… Jelly had shared a blanket in an old rusty pram with so many shivering little ones.  She had lullabies for all of them, and some of them learned the words well enough to sing along, even if she had to explain what they meant. And every moment she was away, she worried about them.  Were they getting enough to eat, were they getting along with the other kittens, were Demeter’s ankles any better after she’d twisted them dancing…?

The longer she was away, the guiltier she felt.  Of course, she loved her home with her writer… but the Junkyard was home, too.  Every time she approached the gates, it was as if that entire corner of the street sang out to her.  I’ve been waiting for you—did you not hear me calling?

She was needed there. Too many cats relied on her, not just her blood family, for her to stay away too long.

Her writer… could get along just fine.  He was an adult, perfectly independent and devoted to his work.  If anything… if anything, she would be one less thing for him to worry about.

If she’d been a little more heartless, she would have just disappeared one day and never come back. But even if her writer could get along just fine, Jelly just wanted to make sure.  So she made a tradition of sitting between the bushes of his garden and sitting, peacefully lulled by the clacking of typewriter keys.  Every Saturday, when she knew he would be home.  She still wore his collar around her neck as well, a very simple band of braided leather.  Even after years and years, it still smelled like ink stains and rose petals, and she kept breathing in the scent… it was hard to explain, but it comforted her.  As long as the scent remained, his roses still grew tall and lovely, and his typewriter kept clacking away.  Never letting up for a moment.  All was well.

There had once been a little yellow charm hanging from the collar.  She’d worn that for many years, too, even if the name on it wasn’t quite right.  But shortly before her son was born, Jelly knew she wouldn’t be able to visit her writer for some time.  This next visit—the last one until Jenny was through nursing and Mungojerrie could walk by himself and eat solid food—would have to be special. So before she left that final time, she dug a small hole beside the biggest rosebush and buried her charm, patting the dirt carefully over it when she was finished.  Above her, her writer never stopped for a second.  The keys tapped to the beat of an imaginary song, one only he could hear.  The struggle of the old torn-out page was gone now, and she could tell from the steady rhythm across this new page that he’d hit upon something brilliant.

He wouldn’t even notice Jelly had been there.  But she had left him something to remember her by.

[likeabulletyoucanhurtme]

1. Would you have sex with the last person you text messaged? No, I'm not gay. But also, I don't think his wife would be too impressed either. itsmeetingthemanofmydreamsandthenmeetinghisbeautifulwife 2. You talked to an ex today, correct? Wrong! 3. Have you taken someones virginity? Nope. 4. Is trust a big issue for you? Romantically, it will be now. donttrustahoeneveratrustahoewonttrustahoe 5. Did you hang out with the person you like recently? I haven't hung around with anyone recently 6. What are you excited for? Concerts coming back after the rona thisshitwillfuckyouup 7. What happened tonight? Scotland drew with england and now I'm drinking and watching Bob Ross painting because it taped as a suggestion and all your memes make it sound interesting. throwawayyourtelevisiontakethenooseofyourambition 8. Do you think it’s disgusting when girls get really wasted? No, that seems a very sexist comment. Girls have every right to get as wasted as they want. I myself have been horribly wasted before and don't judge others for it. causeimprettyfuckingwastedidrunksogoddamnmuchthaticantfeelmyfaceyeah 9. Is confidence cute? As long as it's warranted. 10. What is the last beverage you had? Lidl Cola imnotbyyoursideimnottakingtimeyoudeserveeverythingyouvegot 11. How many people of the opposite sex do you fully trust? 8 (six of those are family members tho) 12. Do you own a pair of skinny jeans? Never have and never will. 13. What are you gonna do Saturday night? Watch more TV. Or the next film on my list. Or play GTA3. saturdaynightifeeltheairisgettinghotlikeyoubaby 14. What are you going to spend money on next? Chocolate 15. Are you going out with the last person you kissed? Not anymore :) sokissmehardcausethisllbethelasttimethatiletyou 16. Do you think you’ll change in the next 3 months? I highly doubt it andillbethiswayforever 17. Who do you feel most comfortable talking to about anything Depends about what. I can talk to my mum about most things, but not all obviously 18. The last time you felt broken? December causeimbrokenwhenimlonesomeandidontfeellikeiamstrongenough 19. Have you had sex today? Nope 20. Are you starting to realize anything? Nah, I realized it all quite a while ago. 21. Are you in a good mood? Kinda? I'm not in a bad mood. I was in a good mood yesterday an.. Nah. Fuck it. Yes, I am in a good mood. (I realise I could've just put yes but I thought it was important to note the point where I fought against West Of Scotland stoicism and decided to acknowledge some positivity). 22. Would you ever want to swim with sharks? Nah. And they should be left alone and not dragged about for our pleasure. iftheseawaswarmwouldsharksbemorefriendly 23. Are your eyes the same color as your dad’s? Yeah 24. What do you want right this second? A large amount of money, or chocolate. 25. What would you say if the person you love/like kissed another girl/boy? I'm not currently liking anyone right now so meh. 26. Is your current hair color your natural hair color? Yeah. Including the grey. Might dye it at some point soon for shits and giggles. imstartingtothinkthisisntititisntallitscrackeduptobe 27. Would you be able to date someone who doesn’t make you laugh? I've done that twice. It obviously didn't work out. Maybe I should try? 28. What was the last thing that made you laugh? A meme on facebook asking if the earth was round, why the bottom of your shoes are flat instead of curved. It had a picture of a curved shoe. It's more of a visual joke. 29. Do you really, truly miss someone right now? Not really. I miss the closeness I had with some people, but I've come to terms with it. 30. Does everyone deserve a second chance? idk. I give people more chances than they deserve and I probably shouldn't. 31. Honestly, do you hate the last boy you were talking to? Nope. I try not to talk to people I hate. 32. Does the person you have feelings for right now, know you do? I don't even know I have feelings for them, so I doubt they know. 33. Are you one of those people who never drinks soda? Quite obviously

not. 34. Listening to? Transplant. It's a medical drama that taped on TV five months ago. 35. Do you ever write in pencil anymore? I don't have a pencil. I rarely write in pen anymore. 36. Do you know where the last person you kissed is? Nope. And I don't want to. 37. Do you believe in love at first sight? No. That's lust. Love takes time. 38. Who did you last call? Voicemail, and before that my mum. telephonelinesawaydeathontheendandimscreaming 39. Who was the last person you danced with? The last time I danced I did 5,6,7,8 by myself in the middle of a bar in Glasgow because it was on the jukebox. I called them all miserable bastards for not joining in 40. Why did you kiss the last person you kissed? Because I was in a relationship with them at the time and I felt like it. 41. When was the last time you ate a cupcake? 10th of June. 42. Did you hug/kiss one of your parents today? I haven't seen them for four days 43. Ever embarrass yourself in front of a crush? Consistently. My memory doesn't plague me with these instances while I'm trying to sleep though, I just have a vague general feeling that I'm an embarrassment. 44. Do you tan in the nude? I avoid sunbathing and tanning. 45. If you could, would you take back your last kiss? Yeah. I mean I enjoyed it at the time, but she's now my ex so she didn't deserve it. 46. Did you talk to someone until you fell asleep last night? Nope. 47. Who was the last person to call you? An employment agency. 48. Do you sing in the shower? No. I think of conversations I will never have or the story that I've got writers block with. 49. Do you dance in the car? No. I look out the window and watch the scenery 50. Ever used a bow and arrow? Nope. 51. Last time you got a portrait taken by a photographer? Maybe when I was a baby imnotapictureperfectportraitbutiamworkingonit 52. Do you think musicals are cheesy? Yes. Because they are. Apart from Cannibal The Musical. 53. Is Christmas stressful? Undoubtedly so. sotelltheworldletsbuysomepeaceandquietforachangebeforewespenditallonfuckingtoys 54. Ever eat a pierogi? Wikipedia tells me they are filled dumplings, so I probably would if I got a chance 55. Favorite type of fruit pie? Apple. 56. Occupations you wanted to be when you were a kid? Astronaut. That was about it I think. 57. Do you believe in ghosts? No, I don't. imaginelivinglikeakingsomedayasinglenightwithoutaghostinthewalls 58. Ever have a Deja-vu feeling? Not that I can remember. 59. Take a vitamin daily? Nope. 60. Wear slippers? Yes. Star Wars ones. 61. Wear a bath robe? Sometimes. It's called a dressing gown though. 62. What do you wear to bed? Nothing. 63. First concert? The Beautiful South, 24yrs ago. whenyoursockssmellofangelsbutyourlifesmellsofbriedontmarryherfuckme 64. Wal-Mart, Target or Kmart? Lidl 65. Nike or Adidas? Converse 66. Cheetos Or Fritos? Pringles 67. Peanuts or Sunflower seeds? Raisins 68. Favorite Taylor Swift song? Clean. raincamefallingdownwheniwasdrowningthatswhenicouldfinallybreathe 69. Ever take dance lessons? Never! I have two right feet. It's like having two left feet, only worse because it's also out of place as well as just generally bad dancing. 70. Is there a profession you picture your future spouse doing? Nah, why would I care about that? 71. Can you curl your tongue? I can't even extend my tongue far outside of my mouth. 72. Ever won a spelling bee? I've never entered a spelling bee. 73. Have you ever cried because you were so happy? No I have not. 74. What is your favorite book? It used to be either HitcHikers Guide To The Galaxy or Reaper Man. SQUEAKsaidthedeathofrats 75. Do you study better with or without music? Without. If I have music on then that will distract me too much and I'll listen more than study. 76. Regularly burn incense? Nope. 77. Ever been in love? Maybe. I thought I have been several times. I said I was. 78. Who would you like to see in concert? AFI, Green Day, I Set My Friends On Fire, Kesha, The Killers, Lady Gaga, System Of A Down, Tenacious D, While She Sleeps 79. What was the

last concert you saw? Twin Atlantic makeabeastofmyselftokillthemall 80. Hot tea or cold tea? Hot, if it has to be any at all. 81. Tea or coffee? Irn Bru 82. Favorite type of cookie? Millie's 83. Can you swim well? I can swim in a pool but I can't tread water or breath very well whilst swimming so open water would not be good for me. 84. Can you hold your breath without holding your nose? Yeah. 85. Are you patient? I can be. 86. DJ or band, at a wedding? DJ, and my playlist of 6625 songs on itunes 87. Ever won a contest? Nah. I don't enter contests. 88. Ever have plastic surgery? Nope. 89. Which are better black or green olives? Tomatoes. 90. Opinions on sex before marriage? Have as much as you can with as many consenting partners as you wish 91. Best room for a fireplace? The living room? 92. Do you want to get married It's an archaic institution and puts too much stress and debt on one day for very little benefit that I can see.

[fashiontrendin-blog]

I Did Whatever I Wanted for 3 Days and It Was…Telling

http://fashion-trendin.com/i-did-whatever-i-wanted-for-3-days-and-it-wastelling/

I Did Whatever I Wanted for 3 Days and It Was…Telling

My mom and dad’s parenting philosophy largely revolved around teaching me the value of hard work and, especially, earning life’s pleasures. Play dates came after chores; dessert came after dinner; spending money came after an 8-hour shift. I hated it as a kid, but over time developed a sort of Stockholm syndrome in regards to delayed gratification, becoming almost unable to enjoy things I didn’t “earn.”

Today, I’m the ultimate loyalist to the long game, which doesn’t mean I always play it as much as it means I feel immeasurably guilty when I don’t. My boyfriend calls me crypto-Catholic. (You can call me fun.)

Feel Good Month on Man Repeller seemed an appropriate time to re-examine my relationship with feeling good, particularly the part where I sometimes stop myself from it out of a blind expression of self-discipline. What would it feel like to orient my life around instant gratification instead? The idea sounded so alien I decided it was good, and thus the “hedonism diet” was born: three days of doing what felt good instead of what felt responsible, and not an hour longer.

For the sake of not burying the lede, this turned out nothing like my Yes Diet, mostly involved having a second roll or waiting too long to pee, and ultimately revealed the dull boundaries of my Tuesday-through-Thursday imagination. The diet also came at an interesting time: I was a week into a mildly depressed slump and less in touch with my desires than ever. I tried to use the diet as a sort of catalyst for emotional movement, but quickly learned my day-to-day life has little room from spontaneity outside the bounds of what I eat.

Speaking of which: As tepid a vehicle for hedonism as food is — the image of a group of people screaming down a highway to Vegas on a Monday seems more fitting – indulging in it with abandon was the main fantasy raised by people who learned I was on the diet. That’s either a commentary on the people I know, New York in general, or humanity as a whole. Will let you theorize on that one.

If you want to read my diary over the course of the three days, it’s below. If you don’t, I won’t blame you, and will leave you with a question instead: What would your hedonism diet entail? I have a feeling the answer might reveal a lot, but in my case, I kind of hope it doesn’t.

Day 1, Tuesday

7:40 a.m. I wake up wondering if I’ve ever slept worse, but feel inexplicably energetic. Probably adrenaline; a great way to start my hedonism diet.

8:02 a.m. After cleaning up and washing some dishes, I decide to watch Jane the Virgin while I eat a bowl of yogurt and granola. I was never allowed to watch TV before school as a kid and have maintained that rule as an adult. This feels weirdly indulgent. I love Jane the Virgin.

8: 31 a.m. I pick an outfit on my first try. A miracle since getting dressed has felt impossible lately. I put on leopard shorts, a mustard shirt and lace-up sandals.

9:36 a.m. When I got to work, I buy a small 8-oz. coffee. I’d rather get cold brew but the one I got yesterday turned me into a manic pixie nightmare, plus I don’t want to spend the extra dollar.

12:18 p.m. This morning has been stressful. With a new onslaught of work, I consider killing this very story, but I resist my impulse and decide to keep it on the calendar. An ironic hedonism fail.

1:53 p.m. I haven’t had a chance to eat lunch and I’m hungry. I realize I’m in the mood for a bagel and don’t second guess it. I’m wild.

2:05 p.m. While waiting for my almond butter and jam bagel from Black Seed, I let myself mindlessly scroll Instagram, something I normally resist. I end up on Sofia Richie’s account, find out she’s dating Scott Disick, and then wonder whether I’m out of touch and if that’s a good the until my bagel gets called.

4:50 p.m. Work black hole. Hungry again. Guess bagels aren’t all that nutritionally dense? All we have in the office are almonds.

I’ve never been hungry and wanted almonds

— Haley Nahman (@halemur) August 3, 2017

I run to Grumpy’s and get the only food item they have left: a piece of pumpkin bread. Weird choice after a bagel lunch, but it sounds good.

6:45 p.m. On my way out the door for a dentist appointment, I steal a piece of gum from Emily’s desk (sorry Emily!) without considering her feelings. Is hedonism just psychopathy?

7:13 p.m. Just got to my dentist on time and mildly have to pee but am not gonna go. SO THERE.

9:07 p.m. I’m getting dinner at a French restaurant with my boyfriend. The soap in the bathroom is on a pole that requires you do a jerk-off motion to get a lather. There is a jar of condoms next to the sink. It is a mildly sexual experience that I’m trying and failing to connect to my hedonism diet.

9:09 p.m. I refuse to Google whether air hand dryers cover my hands in feces, as my boyfriend is currently suggesting, which I consider a win, despite his pouting.

10:11 a.m. When we got home, we plop on the couch instead of going to bed, and I put on a random YouTube video, which leads to another and another. My boyfriend is great at putting together an interesting and educational YouTube playlist. Under my hedonistic guidance, however, it entails a girl giving herself a makeover for 45 minutes, a women giving unhelpful tips on “how to pose” by a dirty pool, and a 30-minute compilation of “jean hacks,” such as turning your jeans into a bag or turning your jeans into a larger bag. It’s truly some of the worst content either of us have ever seen.

Day 2, Wednesday

8:21 a.m. While getting dressed I consider whether wearing red shoes and a red sweater is too much, then remember such considerations are for another day.

9:22 a.m. I decide to text my boyfriend something we really should talk about in person — an impulsive decision I would normally not entertain. (It wasn’t worth it, for the record.)

1:52 p.m. For lunch I get a salad from Sweetgreen because I’m in a hurry and need to be efficient. Am too busy to entertain other impulses.

5:04 p.m. Elizabeth brings cupcakes for Ashley’s birthday, I go for the second one I touch. Bold.

7:35 p.m. At a lovely media dinner surrounded by people I’ve never met. Our bread basket has two biscuits no one is eating. I eat the first one. It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.

7:52 p.m. I eat the second one.

9:08 p.m. After dinner I realize I lost my ring, but am so embarrassing by the thought of crawling around on the ground that I decide to call it a loss. Very irresponsible.

11:38 p.m. When I get home I take a shower, brush my cat, and right when I am about to get in bed, decide to watch Jane the Virgin instead. I go to bed at 12:18, like a real party animal.

Day 3, Thursday

8 a.m. The first outfit I put on makes me look like a waiter, so I swap my button-down for a pajama top, which is probably inappropriate for the dinner I have later but is the only solution to the getting-dressed woes I’ve been experiencing of late.

12:52 p.m. I set up a therapy consultation. The best-feeling thing I’ve done all week.

2:43 p.m. I decide against a salad in an attempt to prove my desires extend beyond Sweetgreen. I try out The Dez, the new Mediterranean place on Mulberry Street. I get my food to go and start eating my pita on my walk home, like a kid who failed the marshmallow test.

7:05 p.m. At dinner with some girls. Everything we order is some form of bread or pasta, rounding out my inadvertent carb-only diet this week. After mutually agreeing it’s not embarrassing, we order vanilla gelato with rainbow sprinkles for dessert.

8:31 p.m. If I were truly following the diet I would get a car home. It would take 15 minutes, but I can’t bear the cost, and so I take two long trains home. It takes an hour.

11:11 p.m. When I get home, I clean my house, shower, skip TV and go to bed like an adult.

This may not have been the most thrilling time to live by way of impulse, but it was at least interesting to note that by doing so I saw almost no consequences (except perhaps a lack of nutrients), aside from feeling less guilt. In a way, I put my conscience to the test to prove it’s overactive, and I’m delighted to say it worked, for whatever that’s worth.

http://platform.twitter.com/widgets.js