#can we take it out back and put it down Old Yeller style and move on?

[solvicrafts]

"Bob hates the idea of any good drow that isn't Drizzt."

[etraytin]

Quarantine, Day 154

August 12

LOL my computer won't show me my pin login screen unless I press the soft boot keys first, that's not a bad sign, is it? 

Anyway, another day of entirely kittens! Three hour feeds means breakfast starts at 6am, bright and early! Second breakfast rolls out around 9, just in time for a nice lunch at noon. Second lunch is at 3pm, followed by early bird dinner at six. Fashionably late dinner (attended by all the same diners, of course) is at 9pm, then we all have a midnight snack that is in fact a full meal. A 3am top-up finishes the day's menu, and everybody gets one more nap before breakfast. Whew! In the middle of this, the weanlings also get fed on their own, slightly less rigid schedule consisting of "We have finished the food, human! What the hell are you playing at?" 

The good news is that eight daily feedings are paying off in terms of baby weight gain. All of the teenies are up by at least 20g over yesterday, which is an excellent daily gain equivalent to the weight of about four US quarters. Given that they were very underweight to start with, rapid gain and good suckling are very encouraging signs. Orphan kittens always have a tough row to hoe and things could go wrong, but it's a great start. They also have names nowI I ran the two sets of names by the coordinator and she okayed the Harper Hall set, woo-hoo! Without further ado (or photo editing to make these pics smaller because I am exhausted), meet the Harpers! 

First off is Menolly, of course. She is white and black with a mostly white body and a white blaze on her face (her first given name for my notebook was "Stripe"). Menolly is the smallest of the kittens by just a few grams and earned her name by being the loudest and most energetic yeller by an order of magnitude. She always gets fed first, because she is apparently always STARVING. Menolly was also the first kitten to escape her bin; I found her snuggled up next to Audiva this morning and had to put binder clips on the towel cover. 

Next is Audiva, the other female, and much less obvious of a naming choice. If she'd been bigger or louder she might have been Silvinia, but she's pretty laid back and mostly enjoys snuggling in with her stuffed puppy fake mama and sleeping on her back. (She was "Dot" to start with, because she has one black spot on her back and the white stripe on her face wraps around her ear to make the black spot a round dot.) 

Sebell has facial markings that are not dissimilar from Menolly's, but where her body is mostly white, his is tuxie black. (He was "Blaze" to start with becausse of the white blaze up his face and chest.) Sebell just about gave me a goddamned heart attack this afternoon by not only slipping out of his bin but leaving the bins entirely and going a few feet away to a place where I could easily have stepped on him. I like to think I would've noticed him before I did, but luckily the kiddo was with me and quickly pointed out the wanderer. Yikes! There is such a thing as living up too much to your name, journeyman. 

The final kitten is Robinton, the biggest and most distinguished of the kittens thanks to his handsome white mustache! (He was "Stashy" in the book for obvious reasons.) Robinton is possibly the most businesslike kitten I have ever encountered. When I pick him up he pees and usually poos as well, lets himself be wiped up, then latches onto the bottle like it's going out of style. He's gained 30g already and has a handsome portly tummy to go with his handsome face.

  The little kittens did well today, but Zuko lost some weight and I'm not sure why. I'm hoping the tick we pulled off him isn't making him sick a few days later. I penned him up with some food to make sure he'd get enough, but all he did was cry, so I pulled him out, snuggled him, and then syringe fed him meat mush through a luer lock with no tip in it. It was messy work, but he ate some! I'm going to keep on keeping an eye on him, but he's certainly been very active. The others are all gaining well and eating well. The kiddo has been spending a lot of time taking Aang into his room and playing with him whenever I say he can. It's probably just as well if these kittens depart this weekend; we cannot get another cat if we want to keep fostering and I don't want him to get his little heart broken when it's time to say goodbye. 

In non-heartbreaking news, I proved my Minecraft chops and general motherly acumen today when I fixed the kiddo's bugged game by successfully typing /gamemode creative into the text window in the very few seconds between respawn and death after the kiddo accidentally redrew the borders of the world to exclude the place where he was. He'd been getting a little wound up worrying about it but all's well that ends well, and I showed him how to back up his game to prevent future disasters from being ruinous. It's funny because I remember back when he was maybe two or three years old and my motion sickness wasn't so acute, he'd like to sit on the arm of my recliner and watch me play Minecraft. It was fun, but it added difficulty because he unconditionally refused to let me kill the cute animals for food or materials. Suffice it to say he has gotten over that qualm and is now a first rate hunter and farmer. 

The only other real thing of note today was our trip to the thrift store. The thrift store was closed for many months during the pandemic, and we've only been back a couple times since they opened despite it being one of my favorite places. Today's trip was ostensibly for the purpose of acquiring suitable fake mama animals for when the teenies inevitably pee or poop on the ones they have, but we found many other goodies as well. They put all their pet, garden and summer stuff on half price sale, so I got a Topsy Turvy planter for a buck, a couple of blue ice cooler packs for less than a dollar each, and a really startlingly nice crate-style cage for small animals for just three dollars. I am betting it was probably 40 at the store and it looked new, so I'm very pleased. We're always looking for crates for transfering kittens or friendly ferals without taking up our scarce box traps! I also got six or seven appropriately sized stuffed animals for the non-hypothetical kittens. 

The kiddo got into a bin of 50 cent electronics toys with no batteries, sold take-your-chances style, and got a little ray gun, two Perry the Platypus walkie-talkies, and a bluetooth speaker. Everything but the gun worked, so it was a heck of a good deal even though he did wind up getting his finger stuck in the ray gun while disassembling it and needing a good spritz of cooking spray to release him. My best find was probably the nonstick Pampered Chef two-handled skillet in great shape for five bucks. I couldn't find the exact pan online because it's probably older, but I don't think PC sells any pans for less than like 100 bucks, so I was quite pleased. It's a great size for omelettes, stir fry, eggs, whatever. Every time I move, I have to go through and get rid of most of my pans, and every time I settle down again, I rebuild my collection. It's the circle of life! 

[aggresivelyfriendly]

Hi babes! Are we still breathing? How much though have you given Harry’s pores, whiskers, dimples, nipples(all four)? Share with me about that and this chapter!! Hope you like my world building and Character introduction! Thanks do my advance guard @emulateharry, @dirtystyles, and @bleedinglove4h tripod forever!!  Talk to me!

Chapter 2- Sweet Thing

Harry could pinpoint exactly the moment the rest of the world, well his world, realized just what they had been missing in Jillian. She'd been a late bloomer, and only a few gross examples of "guys" had noticed her.

Like Mark Martin.

If there was one positive side effect to Jillian's inadvertent social debut, it was that the likes of Mark finally realized she was way out of his league.

Harry had already known it. Honestly.

But it was so painfully obvious by the end of the homecoming dance, he could only drive home alone and curse himself for being a fool and a coward. For not asking her on a date, formally. Jillian would have left with him. It would have been different. He could imagine it. Then they'd've laughed and joked and she might fix his collar and her nails would nick his neck and he'd get goosebumps, and she'd smile at him in a brand new way. He knew all her smiles, but this one would be brand new, to both of them. Harry would be overcome, and he'd get over his fear and press his lips to hers.

He didn't ask though.

It may have been a date to him, but he didn't ask her, so how was she to know? Jillian wouldn't have abandoned him for any party if they were on a date. If she said yes. Which was why he hadn't asked.

Maybe his dad was right; he should have just grown a back bone and told her. Told Jillian he liked her, more than liked her,  she drove him crazy and he was going to Stanford or Berkley, like he'd been planning, secretly. They were gonna move to California, not him to England, for school. That she should apply too. She never talked about going to school herself, just living with him and working. There was no reason she couldn't get a degree. She was much smarter than anybody gave her credit for, herself included. Her mind moved fast, she just needed some background knowledge. Harry could tutor her. He'd talk to her about that too, his plans, and revising her own too.

He was going to. Once they got through the dance. He'd worn a vest so she couldn't see where he was sure to sweat through his button up. It had already taken every bit of his gumption to execute. his plan. It would just take him a bit more time to work up the backbone. Harry knew he would have backed out, of all of it,  if he hadn't had the idea so close to it happening. Had it not captivated him. He was sorry he didn't back out. Kind of.

It had started on Wednesday. On their drive home. They were driving from the high school to her shift at Dairy Barn and he had studying to do. He was going to drop her, go to the library, and come back to pick her up. All of that still happened, but there had been an unexpected pause in their progress. At the library, the idea kept repeating in his head. The dress was just at the thrift shop. They'd seen it when he was driving her to work after school.

"Look Harry!" She was breathless, but her voice was a red octagon. The momentum threw them forward when he hit the brakes. He figured there must be a bird in the road or something.

"What?" He threw his eyes across the road like he was watching a tennis match. There was no bird, or dog, or sheep, nothing. "Why'd you yell?" Jillian was not a yeller, if you knew her, she already had your attention when she spoke.

"Look! That dress." She pointed to the thrift shop right across the way. She looked so enchanted. He pulled in without second guessing. It was pretty, she looked better imagining it than the dress itself, but his imagination, of her in it, surpassed even the yearning look on her face.

"Do we have time for you to try it on?" He was a little dreamy thinking about her in it, his voice thin as a wispy cloud. It was a slip of a dress, with a sweetheart neck and slim straps, A blush pink. It matched her cheeks after too much sun or too many giggles.

She glanced at her watch, bit her lip. He saw her decision made but she didn't voice it for a few more moments. "No, and I can't afford it. I have nowhere to wear it anyhow." She smiled at Harry, mist in her eyes be damned. "I just," she gestured at the window. "It's so pretty."

It was so pretty. Harry thought about it for a while, wondered if someone had lovingly made it, or it was bought in New York City years before and just took up space. Told its story to himself about how it wound up front and center in the small shop on their Main Street. He spent an hour of his study time wondering and making up his mind. That's what he told himself. In truth, the decision was made when she'd shouted for a closer look, then grieved the loss of the dress, or when Harry imagined her in it.

The tears, they made Harry weak. They didn't fall down her cheeks, but he'd seen the gloss on her eyes. He wanted to be strong for Jillian, but she made him weak. Truth was, he'd do anything for her.

After he dropped her off at work, he found his stash of birthday cash. He'd been saving up for a certain chemistry set, but this need was more immediate. Jillian may not have known it, but she had somewhere to wear it, the tear inducing dress. Homecoming was in three days. She had written that off with her Dairy Barn shift, but work would be so slow, she'd get off early. He'd surprise her.

It was a foolproof plan.

Well, there were places several it could go wrong. She could have to close the Dairy Barn, the dress could not fit her, or she'd scoff at the idea of going on a date with him.

It wasn't a date! He'd stress that if she asked. They were best friends, and this was their last year.  Neither of them had even been to a dance. They should go.

He'd just cherish it as a date, in his head.

The money felt crisp in his hands, unused dollars bills had that smell too. The one that filled his nostrils when he'd opened the birthday cards. Harry wished he was allowed to get a job. His dad always insisted that he focus on his studies instead. So, Jillian paid for their occasionally meals when she couldn't share her employee food and chipped in for gas.  Harry carefully hoarded money he was gifted.

Would it be enough?

"That's all?" He heard himself ask when the dress rang up.

"Do you want to pay more?" Mel, the store owner asked him. She was staring at him with an unlit cigarette in her mouth. She smoked in the street, which was weird because everybody just smoked inside, but the clothes in her shop smelled better for it. At least the ones that weren't musty.

"Um, no?" He was just surprised. It was well under what he expected.

"It'll look pretty on her." She turned away and was fussing with a bag and a hanger. It gave Harry time to find his voice.

"Who?"

Mel smiled and handed Harry the makeshift garment bag around the side of the counter. "Be sure to lay it out to avoid wrinkling."

The smile perplexed him. Was he made of glass?

He did as Mel said, carefully hooking it over the bench seat of his car so it hung onto the floorboard with the protective wrap on it.

He bought the tickets at lunch while Jillian was getting her food. He'd gotten lucky that there was no line. He was ready. Except he hadn't asked, and though she liked the dress, and he couldn't imagine this happening, what if she didn't like the way it looked on her.

It had sat in his closet for three days killing him. He and Jillian didn't keep secrets. Maybe because she had to keep so many from everybody else, and he didn't have anybody but her to share things with.

On Friday morning, after she'd slept over again, Jillian sat with her tea at the table, "You look like you have not slept a wink?" She'd touched his hand and it launched him forward twenty years to sharing a table and tea with her in their own house. But she was asking if he slept.

He hadn't. He may never again now with that image to haunt him.

She'd never gone in his closet, when he was lucky enough for her to wear his clothes, he always got them for her. He'd be mortified if she found an old pair of his briefs or something. All night though, the possibility of her walking over to grab one of his long sleeved button ups, one of his usual fantasies, had flipped it into a nightmare. She'd see. The pink dress hanging in the back. He saw it every time.

He was jumpy that whole morning on the way to school. Jillian had come out of his bedroom.

"Harry, your book bag!" She'd called in her melodic twang.

His feet had actually left the ground.

"You are so jumpy. Want to talk about what has you on your guard?" Jillian was always a little jumpy. He liked to come up behind her and say "BOO!" She'd jump and turn around and smack him on his chest. Then they would laugh together. It never worked on him.

"Nah, I had a dream. And that um, that tree outside was scratching the window. It's just the change of seasons. I miss summer." He put on a shiver and was rewarded with a smile and head shake.

"There are places where there is no winter." She let it lie. Her constant convincing amused him. Her being there was amenity enough.

"Are those places where people are gentle and wear flowers in their hair?" He asked with a blank pair of eyes. Undressed eyes, he could barely see her. He slipped his glasses up his nose with his pointer finger in a practiced move. His muscles would remember the move long after he stopped using the glasses when he didn't need them.

"Yes! That's exactly where it's summer, always." She laughed. He often made jokes of the lyrics of her favorite songs. San Francisco was going to be a favorite no matter what, on its name alone. Harry liked to make her smile. It worked as a distraction from his nervous condition.

He had to make it through the day. It was a rough one.

Harry got a C on a pop quiz.

"Mr. Styles, can you stay after class?" Mr. Brisco said as he entered their peer graded quizzes into his book and Harry tried to get to his next class.

"I'll be late." Harry protested.

"I'll write you a pass." He looked at Harry, looked behind his glasses where Harry imagined bruise like circles. "Is everything alright? This is not your usual standard." He gestured to the large red C with a scrawled 'loser' by his not so secret grader. It was Lance Hinkle, quarterback, BMOC, asshole.

"I'm alright. I slept poorly." He shrugged. "It won't happen again."

"Why don't you write me a paper on Nicholai Tesla, for extra credit. Due Monday." He extended his hand and Harry shook it. It was good to be well liked by your teachers, sometimes.

He really wanted to say no. He wanted to spend the weekend with Jillian, especially after taking her to the dance in the dress.

He needn't have worried. She was busy. They weren't gonna wind up in his truck all Sunday afternoon near the lake.

He took the opportunity though, and had plenty of time to complete it. Because his plan backfired.

Well, really it went seamlessly. She did get off early, and when he arrived, he had the dress, and she loved it.

And she looked as amazing as he expected.

He just wasn't the only one who noticed.

"Harry! You didn't."

He hadn't answered. It was rhetorical, it was obvious he did. They drove the short distance to his house and she just went inside. The hum of the engine matched the warm buzz in his chest. He relived her seeing his surprise 15 minutes before while he waited.

She liked it.

The look on her face, when she'd walked out, pulling her ponytail down on her way. Jillian was exhausted and bemoaning having her shifts cut. Worried. Her brow was knit as tightly as the sweater vest he had on. Jillian would have usually noticed how he was dressed up, not just trousers, those weren't out of the ordinary, or a button up shirt. His was usually short sleeved and plain white. Today he had on dark grey trousers and a long-sleeved blue shirt with a small print, and his fair isle vest. He looked nice, his hair had extra pomade. His trusty glasses with their heavy black frame completed his look.

He'd tried.

But her tired eyes woke up as soon as they lit upon the dress he'd hid for three days. And lost sleep over. It was all worth it.

"Harry!" She'd reached for the hanger with speed but stopped just before she picked it up. The hinge of his truck door was still settling after she had wrenched it open.

She'd slowed so much, the dress slinked down to nearly the pavement like a pink waterfall when Jillian hoisted it higher to protect the hem. "Oh! It's so pretty. Prettier than I thought! Oh but Harry! It's too much!"

"No, it was not nearly so expensive as I thought." He protested. He'd have blown every cent for her face.

"The thought Harry!" She'd looked at him then. "You look so nice."

He shrugged that right off. "It's pretty standard nerd fare for me." He demurred.

"No! The little print, it's psychedelic!" This was high praise from Jillian. "Is this for the dance?" She hoisted the dress two inches higher.

"Yeah, yeah." He swallowed the bullfrog lodged in his throat. Not a date. "We don't usually go. I was just thinking...." he shrugged like this speech wasn't rehearsed. "Let's see what high school has to offer before we fly away to the sunshine."

"Oh Harry!" She flowed and jumped up like a spun top, but rather than drop into his seat with the same energy, she reverently sat down and slipped the dress over her neck by the hanger. He assumed following Mel's advice without needing to hear it. It looked amazing like that, draped over her sharp turns and long flats. He couldn't wait.

He reminded himself it wasn't a date.

The drive home was full of her happy chatter and his listening ear. He liked that she could keep up conversation with only a nod or jest as his contribution. It was why they were like complimentary angles.

He kept the engine running, reminisced, and he was reminded how little polish she needed to shine when she came out not 15 min later. She got in the truck carefully.

He was thankful that Mel had suggested heels too, and that he knew her size. She tried to smooth her ponytail bump the whole way to the gymnasium. It had created a nice swoop, but he knew better than to correct her. He could almost hear her say,"What do you know about ladies hair? And I don't like it, so that's more important, my hair my ideas!" She'd been into women's lib as well as black rights lately. Ready to freedom ride and do voter drives, they were just too rural, and too Yankee. He'd already convinced her not to drop out. Twice.

Jillian found Vaseline in her bag and put a little on her pink lips, cheekbones, and a tiny slick over her eyelids. Perfect.

The moonlight bathed the truck cab and he had a momentary idea to convince her to go to the lake instead. To dance on the bank to the radio.

Maybe he should have, everything might have been different.

They walked in, hand-in-hand, which wouldn't shock anybody, so much as their presence would. They already wondered what the pretty but classless girl was doing with the nerdiest boy in school. They didn't say anything to Jillian, yet, but Harry wasn't spared from their comments.

"Does she have a thing for four eyes or something?" Steve Adler, class president and would be valedictorian, but for Harry, sneered at him one day. They had an antagonistic thing going before Harry out A'ed him. Harry corrected him in chemistry once. Since then, Steve was not a fan.

Steve was one of the first people to see them, on stage getting his crown, of course, most people were facing away. His attention caught was noticed. There was sort of a swell, a murmur.

"I'd like to thank my parents for my face, and god for my brain and height, and Jane for the dance." He leered. Then stopped short when he saw Jillian under the door light. His eyes tracked her from where her dress covered the less than stellar shoes, up over her round hips, lithe waist and ample breasts. He looked shocked when he registered her face. The shock stayed a minute when he clocked Harry. It turned to a sneer quick.

His face journey caught the crowd's attention, and Harry lived a fantasy and nightmare all at once. Jillian was on his arm, but the entire school was looking at him, them.

"Um," he wanted to clean his glasses, but Jillian had clenched his hand tight. "Do you, do you want some punch?" He'd thrown his hand to the side and they'd moved from under the inadvertent spotlight.

Jillian followed him easily, and stood close, with a hand on his bicep like a safety blanket while he poured them juice. The music had never stopped, in actuality, but it had definitely turned back up post speech and record scratch. The stage was clearing.

Couples were pairing up.

Should he ask her to dance?

Before he could get it out, her teasing tone rolled over his ears. "I know you don't!" She rolled her eyes. "But will you dance with me, Harry?"

Before he could say the obvious yes, he'd be happy to stutter his way through the steps with her, Steven was there.

He still had the crown on his head.

"Hey, um," he looks embarrassed for just a moment. His eyes flashing around in their lids. "Jilly!" Nobody has called her that in years, Harry thinks maybe the last person was Mrs. June, their 5th grade teacher. "Do you want to dance?"

Jillian looked back at Harry and shrugged. He hadn't answered fast enough. Or asked himself.

He wasn't sure if she said yes, but she hadn't said no.

He watched as she was held in Steven's arms. He drank his punch and diverted his eyes to where Jane stewed.

He thought the first song was unbearable, but then there was another, with Dale Turner, captain of the basketball team, and track star Will Whaisse. He would have left. Except he wasn't sure how she would get home.

Harry hated feeling sorry for himself. Being here was encouraging it. He should leave. He could be home studying, and Steve could bring Jillian home. He had that new mustang.

He had to talk to her though, on his way out. He decided this as his foot crossed the line at the threshold. The force of his turn brought his glasses to the end of his nose. He was pushing it up and nearing the edge of the dance floor when he saw her. She was 20 yards away, her neck on a swivel and her feet moving in a way he expected would land her on her face. From experience. That was without ill fitting high heels, and she had still grown into her body better than him.

Her eyes found his, and he didn't need his glasses to see her expression. Relief, maybe a smidgeon of apology. They moved together like there was apiece of thread being spoiled from his heart to hers.

"Harry, will you dance with me now?" Jillian asked when he reached the free throw line. She was just under the basket. He kept walking.

"Yes, I'll dance with you now." Always.

Her arms circled his neck and his found her lower back, where her hips flared out. This was lower than he had ever purposely touched her. The times it had been accidental haunted him.

Jillian's arms widened at his shoulders and she laid her head on him. It reminds him of a prolonged hug. Like he remembers his mom giving him that last day. Jillian does that, exuberantly hugs him, but never for more than 30 seconds, tops. He has counted. She did hours ago, when she got out of the car to put on the pink dress that looked better on her than he could ever imagine. This long cinch of their bodies, snuggled up tight. It's his linchpin. When she turned her head in along his clavicle and he felt her breath at his jugular, he was bleeding love.

He might tell her. On the way home. That he had always wanted to be her forever. When they were young he thought that meant friends, but now he meant wife. They could get married, if she wanted.

Then it would be his job to protect her, officially. He already tried. To provide for her, he could work at the university. They could have a little apartment in San Francisco she could fill with flowers and fabrics, music and laughter. It would be a nice life. He could hold her like this in their kitchen. They'd dance before dinner.

The chance, at that life, the one in his vision, it's enough to make him brave.

"Jillian." He'd be sad her head came off his collarbone, but looking down into her eyes was good too.

The music had stopped and Harry hadn't registered it was the last dance. It's the perfect time. The only Time.

Before he could get anything out but an exhale, Steven Adler was standing right next to her. Talking about some party everybody was going too.

Except Harry. Who was not invited and had curfew.

He didn't sleep, not much. He'd been tossing and turning. After he'd written his paper too. He knew enough about Tesla for a basic five paragraphs. His bed felt like a tomb, so he heard the faint knock at his window somewhere between the darkest part of night and dawn.

She's there. Jillian. The sun was changing the sky behind her. Harry can't see any tears, but something, something's off.

He didn't ask, and she didn't tell. That night, she just got into his twin bed with him, still in the dress he bought her, and nodded off. He worried about his dad finding them in bed together, but they were fully clothed, and he was so tired.

And she came back to him.

[myso-calledlibraryy]

The Absolutely True Diary of  a Part-Time Indian

This book is GOOD. Not just well written, but GOOD. All the emotions of high school perfectly encapsulated into one novel that also tackles some bigger issues that go beyond puberty. 

The author Sherman Alexie is a Native American man who grew up on the Spokane Indian Reservation and now lives off the reservation in Seattle Washington. 

((beautiful heart shaped earrings made by a Spokane Indian from the Spokane reservation, gifted to me by my grandparents who visited the area in 2005. very unimportant information but cool !!! ))

He was born with a condition called hydrocephalus, which is just a bunch of extra fluid around your brain, but requires extensive brain surgeries. This led to Alexie having many health problems in his young age, and a self proclaimed “freak” because of the effect this had on his appearance. He lived on the reservation with five siblings and his mother and father. Both his mother and father were alcoholics, which is pretty much the norm for adults on the reservation. At 14, Alexie left the “rez” for the local white high school which made him stand out even more at home and at the new school. After high school he attended college with the hopes of being a pediatrician. After repeatedly fainting in his human anatomy class, a poetry class hooked Alexie to writing. 

Now this all seems incredibly boring (which it should not because the author is so important to the book, obviously) BUT Diary of a Part-Time Indian, is all about these issues Alexie faced. While it is not completely nonfiction, the book is essentially a memoir based on the time of Alexie’s life when he switched to the all white high school. During this year the main character, Junior, faces the tough loss of his dog in the very beginning and the tragic loss of his sister towards the end. In between this time Junior is dealing with the struggles of being bullied due to his appearance caused by the hydrocephalus. On top of all the loss and the bullies, Junior has a lot of normal high school problems that evoke emotions everyone can relate to. And on top of all of this is the central issue of racism, which Alexie addresses beautifully. While half joking but being very serious, this novel shuts down all stereotypes and lets us into the life of a young Indian boy living on a reservation. 

From the very beginning this book had me CRYING, and I do not mean a few little tears. Junior’s dog dies within the first like five minutes of reading and I was like okay I am going to be in for a ride. Not only does the dog die but the poor guy goes out Old Yeller style, which is just an image that has traumatized me since I was 5. So obviously I am already in pain, but as the mature reader I am I saw this as symbolism and allowed myself to move forward. Symbolism of the loss of his childhood?? Or maybe just me trying to pretend like this kid’s dad did not just SHOOT his dog. 

Now that the dog is dead I am sad and searching for something in this book that can make me happy again.

In walks, Rowdy. 

Not only is Rowdy Junior’s best friend, but he is also a ~bad boy~ which I kind of have a thing for, sue me! The big tough guy being friends with the little loser and it’s not even out of pity? bingo, I am HOOKED. 

Rowdy and Junior get into quite the fight when Junior decides to go to Reardan. Rowdy is pissed his best friend is about to leave him, but he is also definitely a little jealous. Rowdy doesn’t really want to go to school with Junior but he has some resentment towards the fact that Junior is moving on. After Junior’s school beats the rez school in a basketball game, it seems like the two are never going to mend things. 

THANKFULLY the character development of Rowdy is exceptional. He realizes just because Junior is moving on from the rez it doesn’t mean Junior is going to move on from him. Boys putting aside their manliness and understanding that they love each other so much and just want what’s best for each other is ~magical~. Like seriously literary genius I have no idea why but it just does something to a person’s heart. 

So to wrap that one up, Rowdy is my main character because I 100% would’ve had a crippling crush on him in high school. 

While I am crushing on Rowdy, Junior get’s himself a little white girlfriend, who’s not his girlfriend but is basically his girlfriend while not being his girlfriend at all; what a weird thing we are all way too used to. Her name is Penelope and I literally hate that so much. He is completely enamored by her because a girl has never even looked at him before, and she is just one of those. Like one of those girls who is obviously going to date the new boy so then everyone will talk about her and she is just so worried about not being what everyone thinks she is even though that is exactly what is. Disclaimer; I definitely would have hated Penelope in high school and she definitely would have bullied me. 

Penelope was the only character in the whole book that put a bad taste in my mouth... but in a good way? She had visible character development after Junior helps her with her bulimia, but she is still a bitch and does not love Junior the way he deserves to be loved. 

The other two main girls in Junior’s life are his sister and grandmother. Grandmothers are automatically my favorite character because my grandmother is my best friend and an angel. Junior loves his grandmother this much too and he makes it very obvious. His sister, he more so pities because she is way too old to still be living in her parents basement. But he loves her nonetheless and she is definitely one of the biggest influences for Junior’s switch to the new school. Mary had plans to go to school and fulfill her dreams but she ended up in a rut like all the other Indian’s and Junior wanted to be better than her. 

To make Junior’s life a literal living hell, even more so than it already was, both of these women die within his first year at the new school. Oh and to make matters even worse the grandmother gets hit by a drunk driver and the sister gets so drunk she passes out and burns alive in her home. If you thought I was sad about the dog, boy let me tell ya I was not well. 

Alcohol takes a serious tole on the lives in Indian communities. This is not a stereotype this is a real life thing. Most people on the rez are alcoholics, and most of them die because of it. Junior has to deal with this for his whole life and so does everyone else. 

Having dealt with alcoholism in my family my whole life this really struck a cord for me. Poor Junior was literally going through every one of my worst nightmares all at once and I just wanted to give him a hug. But while I was feeling this way, I selfishly just wanted my Rowdy to be the one to come in and save the day. (yes he is my Rowdy I do not make the rules here)

For once in my life my selfishness was actually not selfish at all because this is exactly what happened. 

Rowdy doesn’t make some big gesture or anything like that, but the boys become best friends again and that is all that matters. After wrapping up his first year at Reardan, Junior is down on life in general but feeling good about the switch he made. The only thing that would make it 100% better would be Rowdy. And thank GOD the two are able to be teenage boys and put their difference behind them after a little one on one bball. 

Not only do Rowdy and Junior become friends again, but Rowdy delivers a speech that is like no other. Rowdy low key professes his love to Junior (in a friend way) and it so inspiring. Rowdy admits that he doesn’t want Junior to forget him but that he wants nothing more than for Junior to leave the rez. Rowdy wants Junior to be the best, because that’s what he knows he can be. 

Again, I cried over two boys showing their love for each other but this is something we never get to see and it is special. And this is the ending so in reality I would have been crying no matter what. 

So yes again this book is like REALLY sad, but not in a bad way that makes you want to put it down. In a way that makes you truly think and keeps you hooked to the content of the book. 

And it is also so HAPPY. Obviously we know that Alexie became a big time author but just looking at it as Junior we know that everything is going to work out for him. 

I spent hours trying to perfectly describe how this book made me feel until it hit. It made me feeling EVERYTHING. 

That feeling when you’re a freshman in high school and the senior boy you have a crush on makes eye contact with you and suddenly you have absolutely no idea what you’re doing but it doesn’t matter because he LOOKED at you. 

That feeling of eating lunch alone at a table because no one wants to be your friend. 

That feeling of being left behind while you sit home and watch everyone succeed without you. 

That feeling of just pure loneliness where your thoughts are so loud but at the same time is everything is quiet. 

That feeling of grief that actually feels like a piece of your body went on with that person and you don’t know if you’ll ever be able to get it back.

That feeling of your first heartbreak.

That feeling of a friend break up is a lot worse than a boy break up. 

The whole novel is just one emotion after the next, but so many stick with you after. 

If I had to rate this book I would give it a “makes you cry in the best way, while also making you laugh”...the emotions a novel can evoke are so important to me, and The Diary of a Part-Time Indian gave me all the feels. 

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In addition to all of these things Part-Time Indian was able to tackle the issue of racism in a way that is a little new. Having it come from the point of view of a child, with the intention of a YA audience, you do have to write things in a less serious way. Alexie was able to do this without ever actually “dumbing” anything down. It is so absolutely important for this to be a conversation in YA novels because this is a conversation that has to become real. We cannot be afraid to read books that involve racism because it needs to be talked about on all levels, especially with young people. 

[shelbswastaken]

The 3 Most Disturbing Cartoons I've Ever Seen

Disclaimer: Some, if not ALL of these cartoons have disturbing imagery such as; Domestic abuse Pedophilia Implied homicide Homicidal and suicidal thoughts Child abuse And extreme cases of gore and violence. If you are in any part offended of these subjects/have bad experiences involving these subjects, go watch something more light-hearted. Like...JackSepticEye or something. Ugh….I didn't want to make this. The stuff in these quote-unquote “Cartoons” is too demented for anyone to watch. But, for all you brave souls out there, you can kick back in your office chairs and enjoy….. The Top 3 Most DISTURBING Cartoons I Have Ever Seen 3: 2003’s “Ren Seeks Help” You know this list is gonna be bad when Ren Seeks Help is number 3 on the list. Basically, this is about Ren being forced to take a psychological appointment by Stimpy. While at the appointment, Ren talks to his psychologist, telling him about how...being smacked by a doctor when he was born made him want to inflict that sort of pain on others. He started with bugs before moving on to a frog, and the frog scenes, along with the ending, is some of the most gory stuff you will ever see in animated form. After telling his psychologist basically his entire fucked-up life history, the psychologist brands him a sociopath, and he has all the right to call Ren one. Ren, however, claws his psychologist like a rabid cat, then fucking BEATS HIS PSYCHOLOGIST TO DEATH WITH A ROTARY PHONE, then when some...I dunno, dogcatchers? come to capture Ren, he TEARS OFF ONE OF THE MEN’S HANDS BEFORE SLOWLY EATING IT! Then, the men finally net Ren, and I hope they put Ren down Old Yeller style, because that is the only punishment Ren, and this entire FRANCHISE, deserves! 3: 1956’s Tom & Jerry: Blue Cat Blues This is perhaps the tamest one on the list in terms of psychical horror, but definitely wins in terms of having the most severe mood whiplash I have ever seen. Already, the episode starts off on a bleak note. We see a depressed and dishevelled looking Tom sitting on some railway tracks, obviously hoping to be hit by a train. Meanwhile, Jerry is standing on the top of a bridge with a concerned look in his eyes, and through Jerry’s inner monologue, we find out the story. Tom & Jerry were best pals, but don't worry...We still get the classic slapstick you'd expect from a Tom & Jerry short. Then Tom falls for a pretty lady cat, and his life falls to shit shortly after. After he recounts the event, Jerry takes a photo of his girlfriend out of what I like to call the “Ass Dimension”, and is thankful for how well his love life is going….only for a car with his girlfriend and another mouse to speed past him with a sign saying “Just Married”. After this, Jerry decides on sharing Tom’s fate. The cartoon ends with them both sitting on the track, and a train can be heard as the credits appear, implying that Tom & Jerry met their demise. This short is by far the DARKEST Tom & Jerry short of the golden era. Now I know what you're all thinking. How could something top the gore in Ren Seeks Help? Or the downer ending of Blue Cat Blues? Well, there is a movie that is considered the darkest piece of animation of all time. Something with barely any attention. Something that deserves to be buried deep in the annals of history. My pick for the most disturbing animated cartoon of all time is….. Number 1: Where The Dead Go To Die This movie is vile and disgusting. The movie consists of 3 shorts, and all of them are fucking twisted. The first short, Tainted Milk, is essentially Lassie if the dog was a fucked-up Labrador from the deepest pits of Hell. The second short, Liquid Memories, is about a serial killer who goes insane from stealing his victim’s memories. The final, and probably most disturbing short, is The Masks That Monsters Wear. This short is about a boy with the parasitic face of his brother on the side of his head-and you've probably already thrown up at this point. His parents wish he was never born, and he has to wear a mask to hide his second face. He meets a nice girl named Sophia, but when he goes to her house, he sees what she goes through. Her hillbilly dad forces her to strip down and film child pornos, and when she doesn't follow his fucked-up rules, he muzzles her, hangs her from the ceiling, and lets her siblings hit her. You should never watch this film. It shouldn't receive any attention. Well, see you next time. It’ll be a little more light-hearted.

[mrgoldsshopofhorrors]

Just in case we wanted to be positive about the show,

and happened to be shipping Rumbelle..

Well, I’m slightly bummed. After a lovely day yesterday in which I could finally get back into the swing of fandom fun, the fury is back again in the Rumple... tags. Sucks too because I was all ready to break my Rumbelle earrings out of storage for Valentine’s Day.

Now, mind you, I know that’s my dumbass fault for not knowing how to block ‘anti-’ tags.

And I can understand the reactions. Completely. Plus the fact that for some, venting helps them feel better. But for me, dwelling on the negativity is like reopening a wound over and over again.

I mean, hell, if I wanted to concentrate on problems, I’d focus on my own real-life issues. But I don’t, because I have my lovely fandoms as a way to escape. But when even my fandoms become too stressful to handle, that’s when it’s time to jump ship.

And yes, I’ve been very tempted (okay, actually tried) to do that in the past. And I still could, but...call me naive, I think the worse is past. That or I’m just getting numb to the pain. Maybe both.

Are things going to get instantly better? Nah. Is the show ever gonna be the same quality as the first few seasons? Not a chance. Could it start to become something I can occasionally enjoy and not watch while cringing in fear? That’s what I’m hoping towards.

But back to the negativity that constantly lingers around..

(good-golly, I made these gifs during the 5th season.. But after watching 6a, suddenly season 5 don’t look so bad! Also, this is how I dealt with my own feelings of negativity towards the show, so pot meets kettle)

I never wanted to be in a position to dislike Belle. Frankly I still don’t. Yet I find it very hard to look at pictures or gifs of her from season 6. Too many bad memories there.

However I can’t really blame her. She’s fictional. She’s controlled by writers. She put herself under a sleeping curse because the writers don’t know how to write around an actress’s maternity leave. She sent her newborn son away because the story needed to have the kid kidnapped and come back as the season’s new actor.

And here’s a terrible confession. Frankly I’d rather be mad at Belle than Rumple. 

The story direction required Rumple to act badly to make Belle mad, but thankfully he didn’t cross a line that would make me stop loving him as a character.

Remember the infamous Changeling promo? Remember how we were afraid Rumple was going to be the speed up Belle’s pregnancy? If he HAD actually done it, would some of us be as upset at Belle for sending Gideon away?

Who knows? At any rate, I’m not trying to change anyone’s opinion about Belle. If you love her, that’s fine. If you hate her, that’s your choice. Now, if you’re anti-Rumple, we should probably keep our distance from each other. I’m a Dearie first. I just happen to ship Rumbelle because those two fools care more about each other than anyone else in the world ever could...but somewhere along the way, the writers forgot this. And from my viewpoint, Belle as a character suffered the most from this.

My point.... Wait, did I have one? (rechecks post title) Oh, right. Well, if we wanted to be positive about the show, and I that’s not something I usually recommend, but for the sake of trying to find some small remaining bit of enjoyment left.

I remember Rumple has done bad things. Frankly OOC stuff. But it’s canon. :/ I can get past it with headcanons and forgiveness. Mainly because he’s my favorite character and I don’t want to give up on him. Maybe it’s possible I can do the same thing with Belle? Rumple turns the town over the Snow Queen and wants to suck the main character into his magic hat. Belle is gonna take relationship advice from her dream-fetus and hop into different realms if things go sour. Yeah, those two aren’t the best at making good decisions.

Forgiveness seems to be a common theme on this show, provided your name doesn’t start with a ‘R’. And if Snow can forgive her Stepmother for murdering her father, and they become besties, then Rumbelle can get through this. Because that’s how their crazy fairytale universe works. (not throwing shade at Regina here, but in real life...I don’t think you can move on from that kind of thing)

I could try to view things from Belle’s pov. I don’t necessarily want to all of the time, since it still leaves me failing to explain all of her behavior. But during the whole Changeling mess, Rumple has tracked down and aged-up a fairy, then confronts Belle with the magic potion, telling her of his intent. I hated this character action, but it’s what they put in the episode, so this happened... Ultimately he backs down, doesn’t do the deed, but when the inevitable occurs, I can see why she would place the blame on him.

And she sends their baby away because...again, dream-fetus demanded it, as did the story arc.

The next episode, Rumple states he did not cause the predictable plotpoint of her sped-up pregnancy. And Belle instantly believes him. A little surprising to me, since I couldn’t see the Belle of the previous episodes having such a quick change of heart.

Call it bad writing, progress or baby-steps towards the show fixing a toy it gleefully broke for its own entertainment. 

Again, I don’t see all the problems getting solved immediately. There’s a lot of damage that needs to be taken care of. Will we be pleased with everything? HELL-NO. But our show is getting up in age and senile. Likely we’ll only have it another year at the most before Disney puts it out of its misery Old Yeller style. 

Is that ending on a positive note? Not sure, but frankly I’ve written too much as it is it. Just wanted to say, I hope we’ll all be happier soon.

[ayatanskywalker4u]

NO ONE CAN BLAME YOU FOR WALKING AWAY

Does the story end when we go? Does love die if the pages stop turning? I hope so because Im in pain. How do u tell someone "you cheated 1st"? I slept with two women and the other I still love. I read her tumblr page when she wasnt looking, its not like i was the greatest guy. She said stuff like i said mean things. I know i did. Like a kid throwing a tantrum because i dreamed of a future. You know, having kids a house, maybe a dog. If i didnt love her why risk going to jail to save her life? Her father threatened to call the cops on me when i banged on the door yelling and crying shouting "SHES DYING" it was raining that night like some movie and me running through it. We were always there for eachother whether it was a prayer or a hand. I asked her to marry me and she said yes, that was somewhere in the middle.

Theres a lot that happened, some NSFW stuff that happened to her. I could see it breaking her. And when we finally met again she was laughing about some of the graphic content. She told me the old her was dead, like she was just looking past me. Like the night she was dying from an overdose. She didnt see the man that loves her. She only saw what she wanted to see.

When the ambulance took her away i met her the next day in the hospital ward. I will always remember this because as i turned away from her hand i felt her standing there almost begging me not to leave. I had to go, i joined the military.

What went through my mind during that moment was does she love me, then why didnt she call me before the pills? And she's slept with other men to boot. But i was always there even if it made me mad.

There was this other girl, Ebony. She was pretty but so was Ashley. I wanted to try getting back at her for running around. And no i didnt go to bed with Ebony after Ashley's incident. Not right after. I still shouldnt have. "He who touches a women divored commiteth adultery." The same goes for man. I sinned against my very heart which was Ashley and now she hates me.

Im not the type to go get a new dog when we have to put down o'l yeller. When my dog Ginger died i never replaced her. Can you replace a son or a daughter, a father or mother? Can you replace the person you almost lost your life for? I guess the question is should you though. I hate sounding like im giving up on what i believe in. I love ginger and i believe in a better place.

I stayed gone to military training until 2010. Ashley called in the beginning to see if i was alright. I was still mad at her. Was she sleeping with others even though i wasnt around even Ebony? Lol no but ebony was sleeping against me and Ashley even stalked her to find out for me. I thought she was manipulating my emotions. That was the beginning of our downfall. I called her, Ashley, right around my graduation. I was outside of a hotel the privates threw a party at. I missed her and decided to go outside and call her. She was with some other man sadly. Probably doing some NSFW with him as my heart breaks. She laughed at me over the phone, like hey Ash come on its OB. Im still here. I graduated but the woman i love left me.

After the military i called her every now and again. She wouldnt pick up most of the time. I joined the conservation corps and just decided to wait until she asked me to come over. My heart was racing when she asked to talk, funny enough i believe i quit there right beforehand.

We talked about a lot of stuff. Mainly she talked about the guy and the NSFW stuff. All while looking off in the distance just smiling and giggling about how he made her scream and broke the cheap Walmart bed. I was getting upset. Holding my tongue. But when she told me her father touched her, thats when i cracked. I laughed at her pain because it seemed like she was ignoring mine. I missed her forever and a day and she was just, idk she was something, a happy i wouldnt call happy. I spent the night i think, even tried to pull a night with her but its like she just hated me. The last time i recalled ever seeing her was the hospital. She must have held the hospital and ebony against me.

Fast forward to the next day she drops me off at my house. As i stare at her wondering whats going on in her head, probably the dudes equipment, she reaches out and tries to hug me. I pushed her hands away, like she just wanted me to feel like everything was going to be alright. She only wanted to chase tail. Like all those moments over the years we were together didnt matter. I know she was talkin to someone else, i felt like i couldnt "satisfy" her anymore in a way. She definitely didnt like my moves the night before. I watched her get back in the car and drive off.

Some years passed and we lost the house. I overdosed on i think excedrin. That was the night she wouldnt pick up her phone. Funny enough that bottle wasnt enough to finish the job. The cycle of wanting to die when you lose a love like a dog, pig, cow, man women, whatever its hard to kill unless you have hope.

I gathered my senses and decided to leave california for Minnesota. The week prior was bad though. I started hallucinating and i heard voices. I started developing schizophrenia, and destroyed my mothers house due to it. Back to the following week im leaving for Minnesota and Tony tells me he has a gun he wants to sell. I figure i'd buy it when i get paid. You guessed it, im looking to make the job quick. Ashley didnt love me anymore. She wont miss me anyways. I Know how to pull an M9 apart blind folded and put it back together within seconds. I know the central nervous system is what you aim for. Its in the back of the skull at the nape of the neck. You'd leave this world in seconds. I know it sounds grim but come on, its better than commiting adultery against my heart. Who wants to live and suffer at the same time?

Tony saw me brandishing the piece and hid it from me i was crying about what i had done to everyone.

Tony ended up ditching me in Minnesota, luckily it wasnt my first time eating out of a trash can. Home is where you make it. Some people at the shelter became my friends and we played guitars together. But i wasnt as good with the guitar as i am now.

Salvation army was my first job in Minnesota, i was just happy again. I grew my hair out and styled it down, not like Prince and less greasy. After work id go get a drink. I worked that job for about two months i know because my birthday had passed and i believe i turned 25.

2015 came down and i still was asking god what now. I was skinny and handsome playing the guitar with a job. There were women who'd look and stare and some thought i was full of myself. The truth is i just wanted to be able to hold ashley if she ever fell in my arms. I was kinda muscly. I always told myself that one day her legs will fail but id be ready, the muscles werent just for show.

I hit on a few women but i never chased. Id go to the library every now and again to read. And then it hit me, even though i had no cell phone i could use the computers, Ashley was the 1st thing on my mind. I called, i dont think she answered but messaged back. She sounded angry. She was pregnant is what she was. Little did i know. All said and done she left me feeling more empty than i had planned. I started getting angry at God, "if you control everything and move everything, why are you moving me toward Ashley? She doesnt even see the love anymore or remember the sacrifices."

The train to the mall was coming by soon. I went to the liquor store with a plan. Buy as much fireball whiskey as i can consume and jump off of the mall of america. The train was sluggish, probably because i had been drinking. I fell into a doze just before the last stop, "The Mall of America". I woke up and walked slowly, tipsy, toward the elevators to the 6th floor. I heard a voices as i walked to the ledge. I turned around to see if anyone was watching me, my back against the guard rail. I climbed on top and looked down, liquor really did help. I turned my head up and told God "you want my life? You can have it". I let go of my hands back toward the earth and fell asleep.

When i woke up it was about 2 weeks later. My vision was blurry but i made out my mom crying on my chest. I slowly reached and touched her scalp. She didnt know i woke up. Short lived, i went back to sleep. Not just my mom was there but my sister too. They drove from California. How did they find me with no ID?

I stayed in that hospital for 3 months, due to my injuries and placed in the psych ward. My family visited me every few months. All that was going through my head is 'I'm alive" it took me a while to figure out how to use my legs being one has nerve damage now. But i started walking before my bones could fully fuse. The nurses told me to stop.

After i gained disability and got placed in housing, i bought a game to occupy my time. No more work outs, no more running, just me trying to forget the reasons i gave up on life. A couple months to about a year later my mother asks if i want to leave the housing and save the disability money. I said yes to that. I didnt know they'd take me back to california on my birthday. It was a nostalgic drive.

I picked up a walking routine and decided talking to ashley was always going to end with her thinking about my faults. I stopped calling her for probably 4-5 years no messages, nothing.

One day my mom asks if i want to go for a ride and talk. We drove until we reached the on ramp she passes me her phone with a picture of Ashley holding a baby. It was Zipporah. What should i have felt? If ashley is dead why did ashley hold onto the dream? And share it with someone who just left her holding the bag. I couldnt believe it after how hard we tried to bring her into this world.

But i cant chase Ashley anymore, i cant even run, literally.

I didnt know if she was married or not to the dude all i know is his ass wasnt in any pictures with the baby. Ive done some searchin around, he was some dead beat who'd prey on women revealing there weak sides on the internet instead of reality. Yeah I never liked virtual dating. That or the websites. Why do for me what i can do myself?

Even after zipporah was in my view i was a happy mad. Happy that Ashley finally got her family minus the father. But mad at the whoremonger man who just left her. I was a little sore with Ashley for hiding it.

Its been a a year and a couple months after the pictures were seen. I started forcing the thought of Ashley out. I wanted her to disappear, me or her, but mainly me. She wants to chase body parts thats on her. But Im broken now. I still love her and sure some might say less than before but i say im just skeptical now. Besides what good is seeing me broken going to do for her? Idk if she'd just laugh at me again. I kinda wish she would, so i can take these feelings and curse the day she ever earned my love.

Whats the point in arguing though. We were so happy until people stepped in and sabotaged our emotions. You hate me for cheating, laughing at what happened between the father and you and walking away. When i should have stayed. I forgave all the crap in the past. But im almost done.

The doctors told me i dont have much time left after my jumping act. I messed up my innards pretty good. The alcohol relaxed the impact though. I dont want to tell my mother, she'd flip over what im talking about. I think i can close the book on this life well too.

Even though i didnt get to help raise the dreams we shared i learned you still held onto dead things just to keep the dream alive. Ashley is alive in there somewhere, only ashley would name that baby zipporah.

I can leave happy.