#fill the monday slot of my week with pills

[stephaniedola]

it has always bothered me that birth control packs and also the pill-organizer i use start on sunday because thats not how i map my weeks out (monday is the start of a week this is not up for debate) but im finally caving and buying a fancy pill organizer that has both morning and night that i can rearrange to be monday start

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

From Eden: Two

Warnings: noncon sexual acts, mentions of mental illness; tags to be added throughout series

This is dark!Bucky. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The mc suffers from agoraphobia. After a new neighbour moves in across the street, her home becomes even more of a prison.

Note: Yo, so here’s part 2! I hope you all enjoy. As before, there is a transcript at the end for anyone having issues with the images.

Thank you so much for your patience! And support!!

As always, if you are so inclined, please like, reblog, and comment. <3

Transcript:

Sunday

I called Dr. Tisha this morning. I told her about the neighbour. She said it was nice of him to help with the garden but ignored me when I mentioned the broken gate. I don’t know if she believed me. It didn’t seem like it. 

She’s coming by tomorrow to check on my progress. That means I can’t keep those magazines on the dining table anymore. The last time she made me throw half of them out. She didn’t listen when I told her some were so old they were priceless. Sometimes it feels like she doesn’t listen to me at all. Well, what do I pay her to do then?

I haven’t been back outside. I should water the garden as it’s only getting hotter but I don’t appreciate the unwanted audience. An intruder!

Later

I still haven’t found the courage to venture out. I made sure the bike lock was still in place from the front door. It is. Though, if that man’s metal hand could break the old lock, it will likely shred the chain lock. 

Thinking about it makes my heart race. I should go lay down. I’m dizzy and the humidity is making me sick to my stomach. Or maybe it’s something else.

Monday

Dr. Tisha came by early today.

I showed Dr. Tisha where I kept my medicine in the bathroom cabinet, the pills divided into the days. I check off each day on the calendar so I don’t forget either. She said that was good. The last time she was here, it was because I’d stopped taking the pills so I hope this made her happy.

Then she walked through the house, she said she was happy to see the top of the table this time. I laughed but it wasn’t really funny. Then she went to the kitchen and checked all the drawers. 

She found some books hidden under the sink and asked if I’d ever read them. I mean to but haven’t yet. She took them to the guest room where she found the bins of books stacked in the corner. Better than last time when they were a pile on the carpet. 

She said I have too many things. Too many things that aren’t mine. She says it’s okay to be sad about grandma but that holding onto all her stuff won’t bring her back. Like I don’t know that! I do know! But she left me these things so yes, they are mine.

Then we went to grandma’s old room. It’s the same as it was. As it’s always been. Dr. Tisha frowned and went to my room next. 

She asked me about the broken bed frame. I told her it was nothing. I made sure to replace the duvet I’d dragged out the couch to sleep without threat of rolling onto the floor in my sleep. Not that I sleep very much.

She opened my closet and found the magazines. That didn’t impress her either.

We had tea in the kitchen and talked. She asked me how I was feeling. About side effects and all that. Besides the occasional bout of nausea and vivid dreams, I’m fine. She agrees.

Then she asked about the tall shelf of vinyls in the living room. Which one is my favourite? I told her the old Vera Lynn record reminded me of grandma and it was still on the needle.

Then we argued. She wants me to get rid of the ones I don’t listen to. And the magazines in my closet! And she wants me to go through all the books, too. 

She also suggested that I think about redecorating. I told her I didn’t want to do any of that. I like the house the way it is. Who is it hurting if I have a few extra books laying around?

She calmed me down after I raised my voice. She made me count my breaths and explained that I don’t have to get rid of everything, just a little. She says it would help with my progress. And, she said, I could probably make a healthy profit off a yard sale. 

Well, I don’t care about the money, I don’t want to have a sale. I don’t want to deal with people and them thumbing through grandma’s thing for pennies. 

Dr. Tisha said she’ll make some signs and we’ll have the sale on Saturday. My task for the week is to decide what to sell and prices. We argued again but not very long.

When she left, I started crying. Everywhere I look, I see grandma and this place is empty enough without her.

Tuesday

Lorena showed up today.

I gave her my list, it wasn’t very long. She asked about the bike lock and I asked if she could stop by the hardware store and get a new mechanism. She asked me if I even knew how to fix it. I said I’d figure it out.

I told her about Dr. Tisha’s idea for the yard sale. She said it was a great idea. I still don’t agree but she offered to help me sort through the guest room. I shrugged and asked her how long she’d be at the store. She said the usual and left.

I waited by the door. I watched the front gate for her return. She had the combination to the bike lock now and could let herself in. I just wanted her to come back and drop everything off so I could be alone.

When she did return, she wasn’t alone. I saw her at the gate, fumbling with the lock. As the gate shifted open, a metal arm reached past her to push it all the way. The man held a paper bag in his other arm as Lorena carried the other.

He was smiling as he spoke to her and let her pass. He followed her to the door and he saw me before I could back away from the slated window in the door.

“Open up,” Lorena called as she tapped the door. 

I didn’t know what else to do but open the door. When I did she handed me her bag and reached for the one the man held.

“Sorry, but… I can’t let you inside.” She said glumly. “But thanks for the help.”

“No problem.” He glanced past her and I tried to hide behind her but he’s taller than her. He’s very big up close. “You have a great day. Both of you.”

“You, too.” Lorena said and he strode away.

When the gate clattered closed I waited until I was sure he was gone. I dropped my bag and rushed to check the lock. He’d secured it. Good.

I went back to the house and locked the door too. Lorena already had both bags on the table.

“He didn’t mean any harm,” She said as she unpacked the groceries. “He was just helping me so I figured--”

“You shouldn’t have let him in.” I told her.

“He was only in the yard. He didn’t come into the house.”

“I could have helped you.” I said.

“When’s the last time you went past the gate?” She asked as she pulled out a small plastic bag and slid it across to me. It was the new lock. “That should fit, if you can figure it out.”

“That’s not the point, Lor,” You slapped the table. “You let him into my space. A stranger!”

“He’s your neighbour. I’ve talked to Dr. Tisha and you know you’re supposed to be working on your socialising. This yard sale will be a good first step.”

“This yard sale is bull shit,” I was so angry I could have yelled. “I like being alone. I like it here. This is my home and these are my things!”

“Calm down.” She set down the carton of milk and neared me. “Look, I’m sorry. You’re right. I should’ve asked before I let him past the gate.”

I felt so tired. Suddenly weak, like the air had been let out of me. I felt bad for being so mad with her after she went all the way to town for me. 

“I’m sorry I got upset.” 

She forgave me and I forgave her. She convinced me to fill one bin for the sale before the end of the day. She left shortly after. Her and Shelby are going to see a movie. I’m watching one too. An old black and white movie Grandma had on her shelf of cassettes. It’s interesting but the edges are fuzzy and the audio is muffled.

Oh, well, I’m tired. And I’ll be sleeping on the couch anyway.

Wednesday

I tried to fix the lock today. I haven’t been outside that long since last week. The garden needs to be watered.

I took out grandma’s old toolbox, the tools half-rusted but intact. I got what was left of the old lock off easily but the new one was more of a task to get in. I had to open the gate to get it in. The holes for the screw were off-kilter but I couldn’t turn the lock enough to get them to line up.

Then he showed up. That man. Bucky. The lock slipped out as he scared me and my screw driver hit my shoe. My toe still hurts.

“You need some help?” He asked.

I shook my head and tried to close the gate on him but he was already picking up the mechanism and screwdriver.

“I can do it.” I sound like a dying mouse. I reached for the lock but he didn’t even seem to notice. “Hold the door steady and I’ll just--”

“I can do it myself,” I said louder but he still didn’t seem to hear me. Or chose not to.

He reached around the gate and pulled it closer to him. I grabbed the bars and he slid the lock into place. His metal fingers shifted it and aligned the holes.

“Do you have the screws?” He asked.

I found the box on the bunch of rocks just beside the gate. I handed him each long screw and he easily twisted them into place.

“There ya go,” He gave the screwdriver back and smiled.

I closed the gate, as good as pushing him out of the yard. He let me but looked confused. I took the key from the box and slid it in the slot. I turned it and the click slowed my racing heart.

“I still don’t know your name,” He said.

I didn’t tell him and left him there. You think he’d get the clue.

Thursday

It’s not even 5am. I woke up in a sweat. The fan is dead and the house has grown stolid, even as the night air slips through the open window.

I thought I’d closed it more but it is wide open and the power is out. There is an eerie silence as the buzz of the fridge is entirely gone and the house is pitch black. 

I swear I saw something move in the window. Maybe a bird?

I tried to get back to sleep but it’s too hot. I guess I’ll just sit and wait for the sun to rise. It’s already starting to.

I want to go out in the garden today. I just hope that man doesn’t bother me again. I hope the lock is still in place.

Friday

Well, yesterday was fine. The power came back on at noon as I watered the garden and trimmed some overgrown plants. The freesias had grown despite my neglect. 

Today was just as boring. I read at the patio table for a while but then the phone started ringing. Dr. Tisha was checking in. She said she put the signs up yesterday and hoped the turn out would be good. She asked me how much I got done. I lied and said a lot.

Now I’m going to go sort through the guest room and toss a few records on top to get her off my back. I guess I’ll just have to hide under the table tomorrow.

Saturday

Everytime I think I’m doing better, it all goes so bad! 

Dr. Tisha and Lorena arrived early to set up the yard sale. They unfolded a table just inside the gate, leaving it wide open, and helped me arrange everything on top of it. I was nervous and tired. I didn’t sleep very much.

I waited nervously and the first customer showed up. Gladys, an old friend of Grandma’s. She bought an old pin cushion and the Miles Davis record. I should have kept that.

I watched mostly as Dr. Tisha and Lorena took the money and helped people, both familiar and not. 

Dr. Tisha made me introduce myself to them at least. I hated it but they were mostly friendly. A woman with two children, I think she said her name was Essie? She said she liked my shirt. That was nice.

But then he showed up! I ignored him at first as he played with the ornamental cowbell. He took that and a few records from the table. He didn’t even seem to notice Dr. Tisha or Lorena as he came to me.

I kept my head down as I lined up the thimbles beside the painted sewing box.

“How much for the records?” He asked. 

I didn’t say anything and went to the other end of the table. He followed and I turned back and went back to the other end again. He followed me. Again.

“Now,” Tisha stopped me. “What are you doing? He asked you a question.”

I looked up and blinked dumbly. “What? I didn’t-- I was--”

“Bucky,” Lorena greeted him as she neared. “Tisha, this is the neighbour who helped with the groceries the other day.”

“Oh, hello,” She held out her hand as she blocked me from getting away. “I’m Tisha.”

She introduced me then and told me like a child to say hello. I did, quietly.

“Are you… the one who gave her the flowers?” Tisha asked.

“I did.” He smiled. “But I guess she already has enough.”

“She’s shy,” Tisha lowered her voice. “She’s working on it. Now,” she turned to me, “how much do you want for the records… and bell?”

I didn’t know what to say. The man watched me and I felt as if I would melt.

“Come on.” Tisha poked me. “We talked about this, right? This is your sale.”

“Ten dollars each,” I doubled the price. “And twenty for the bell.”

“That’s a bit pricey,” Lorena said. I shrugged.

“Sounds fair to me,” The man took out his wallet as he leaned the record on the table beneath the bell and used his leg to keep it from falling. “I’ve never listened to these bands before and I’m trying to expand my library.”

He held out the money. Tisha had to elbow me to get me to take it. I snatched it from him and counted it. Another elbow as Lorena kept me from turning away.

“Thank you,” I said to him. 

“I hope you enjoy the records,” Tisha offered gently before she pulled me aside.

She took me closer to the house as Lorena watched the table. She lowered her voice. “What’s going on?” She asked.

“Nothing.” I lied.

“Nothing? Why were you so rude to him?”

“I don’t like him.”

“You don’t know him.” She insisted.

“I don’t want to.”

“Look, I know you’re uneasy around men, but he was nice. And he’s your neighbour. You’ll be seeing a lot of him so I think you should at least try to be friendly. And remember what I said about friends?”

“My only friend is dead.” 

I was so upset I ran inside. And now I’m locked in my room, waiting for them all to just go away.

[starrybethany]

Clayton Keller: Part 5

Word count: 2081

I roll over in bed, stretching out my leg to release the tension in the muscle. It hits something hard on the other side of the bed and I shoot up in surprise, instantly regretting it as pain ruptures through my head.

Betsy groans, causing the pain to worsen and she turns towards me, innocently blinking her eyes open.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, my voice husky.

“Bro we got so drunk last night,” she lets out a quiet laugh and I can’t help but wince at that.

Every single noise that is occuring is making my head want to explode.

“I was too wasted to go home so you told me to crash here.”

“Okay, but why are you in my bed?”

She shrugs lazily. “You wanted someone to cuddle with.”

Yep, sounds like me.

She rolls over onto her back, splaying across the bed. She shows no hint of caring when her arm hits my body. “And you started whining because Clayton’s not here so I figured hey, I’m the next best thing.”

I watch her carefully as her eyes flicker back closed. I thought she would tease me about wanting Clayton here but I guess she’s too focused on her intense hangover to do that. I won’t complain about it, though.

Everything in my body is yelling at me to stop as I pull myself to a standing position, stumbling my way into the kitchen. I almost begin to cry at the sunlight streaming through the windows but hold it in, quickly grabbing two bottles of water and some Tylenol.

“Hey, babe.” I get Betsy’s attention quietly as I enter my room again, handing her a water bottle and two pills.

“Give me another.”

I give her another pill before taking three myself, drinking half of the water bottle before deciding it’s enough and laying back down on my bed. I’m just about asleep when my phone vibrates on the bedside table, light illuminating the dark room.

“Turn that shit off,” Betsy mumbles tiredly.

I squint my eyes as closed as they can get before grabbing my phone, turning it on ‘Do Not Disturb’ while catching a glance at the sender of the text. Clayton, of course. I groan from both the light and the absurdity of our situation and Betsy throws a pillow at me to get me to shut up.

I set my phone back down and turn to face her, falling into a nice slumber.

~

I feel better when I wake up but I’m still hungover as hell. I don’t know what I drank last night or how much, but I don’t think that I’ll be doing that for a while.

I feel ridiculous wearing sunglasses into the kitchen but when I spot Betsy making food at the stove with her sunglasses on, I don’t feel so bad.

“I don’t even remember what happened last night,” I murmur, leaning against the counter and staring down at it.

“Well, long story short, you couldn’t stop thinking about the Coyotes game you went to and how you met all of Clayton’s teammates and their partners and shit so you called me to get your mind off of the topic and oh, I did,” she smirks.

It would be more effective without the bulky sunglasses covering half of her face.

“Thanks for the booze, you should bring it to Tyler’s birthday party next week.” The words slip out of her mouth easily.

She just reminded me of another thing to be stressed about. Tyler’s birthday is next week and we celebrate hard every year. It takes months of planning in advance and shit, I forgot to plan it.

“You forgot his birthday didn’t you?” Betsy asks once she sees the look on my face.

I nod, pressing my head into my hands.

“Y/N, it was your turn to plan it! And I reminded you a bunch of times too!”

“You don’t think I know that, Betsy?” I snap. She becomes quiet and I sigh. “I’m sorry for yelling at you, it’s just, shit.”

“You can figure it out,” she reassures me. “You know all he really wants is to hang out with his friends, get drunk, and then get laid.”

“Yeah but I didn’t tell anybody and I didn’t buy any alcohol yet, hell I don’t even know how much money I have for alcohol,” I sigh.

“Ask Clayton to pay you early.” She shrugs.

I don’t respond, my mind racing with all that I have to do. I have to plan this birthday party, my midterms are coming up this week, my sister might be coming to visit me, and oh, yeah, I have to do whatever Clayton wants too.

My mind stops spinning when Betsy sets a bowl down in front of me, taking a seat at the counter beside me.

“Stop worrying, you’ll figure it out. You always do.”

“I guess so.”

~

My chest burns from lack of oxygen and I glare at Betsy’s car in the back of the parking lot. Why are there so many people at the grocery store in the middle of the day on a Monday? And why did so many people have to park like assholes?

“Hello?” I answer my phone breathlessly as I quickly grab a cart and walk through the store towards the alcohol section. I wanted to grab some booze for Tyler’s party before I had to rush back to campus for class but I don’t know how well that plan is working out.

“Y/N,” the other person lets out a wail and I pull my phone back in confusion, unsure of who it is.

It’s my college roommate from when I was a freshman. We talk once and a while but she’s still as obsessed with her boyfriend now as she was a couple of years ago, something that I can’t really related to.

“What’s wrong, Paige?” I ask, picking up a pack of beer in my free hand and putting it in my cart. I grab another pack and put that in my cart as I wait for her to collect herself.

“He cheated on me!” I have to pull the phone away from my ear as she screams it.

“Andrew cheated on you?” I question, sending her into another fit of sobs. I mentally curse myself out, grabbing a bottle of wine and a bottle of tequila off of the shelf. I decide to go for another bottle of tequila.

“Yeah, I just found the texts with the other girl and she’s gorgeous and she goes to Harvard and-””Here’s the plan, Paige,” I grab a pack of margarita mix, knowing that Paige would appreciate that much more than any other type of alcohol I would grab. Then I grab some more random bottles for Tyler’s party. “I have class soon so I’ll swing around your apartment and cry with you in about two hours. I’m bringing alcohol and I’ll grab some cookies, too.”

I grab the cookies off of the shelf as I pass it, stopping at a cash register and loading the alcohol onto the belt.

The cashier eyes me as the crying on the other end of the line slows down. “Okay.”

“I’ll see you soon.” I hang up and shove my phone into my back pocket, pulling out my wallet to get my ID out. “How are you today?”

“I’m good,” the cashier gives me a small smile, checking over my ID to make sure I’m over twenty one. “How are you doing?”

My phone rings instantly as her question ends and I pull it out, letting out a sigh. “Busy. Hello?”

“Why didn’t you answer my texts last night?” He asks.

Exhaustion fills my body as I realize this will lead to another fight, something I can’t handle with how little sleep I got last night and the hecticness that’s occured today. “I have things to do, Clayton.”

“But you can’t even take a minute out of your day to respond to my texts? Bullshit,” he spits.

I rub my eyes tiredly, pushing my card into the slot with a tug in my heart, knowing that I’ll wince when I see my account balance after this. “It just slipped my mind, okay?”

“Your job slipped your mind?”

Oh that’s right, this is technically my job. Even though it might not be a job with designated hours or tasks, it’s still something that I’m getting paid for, so I have to throw my heart into it as much as I just want to brush it off.

I never got to brush my part-time jobs off so why would I get to just brush this off? I guess I just assumed that Clayton would be more understanding.

“Okay, sorry.” I hurriedly push the cart into the parking lot, knowing that I’m definitely going to be late to class between loading everything into my car and the traffic. “I’ll come over as soon as class ends- wait, shit, I promised Paige I would go see her-”He scoffs at that and I bite my tongue. “I’ll come over around nine o’clock tonight, okay?”

“Whatever.”

I roll my eyes at his attitude. It’s really the last thing I want to deal with today, and quite frankly, as attractive as the guy is and as nice as he can be at times, he’s bothering me with this whole conversation and seeing him is the last thing that I want to do but I’m obligated to. “If you don’t want me to come over then text me. But otherwise I’ll be over then. I have to go, I have class.”

~

I grumpily ring the doorbell, not happy to see Clayton after our argument on the phone and watching Paige drink away all of her problems while not being able to because I needed to be sober enough to Uber over to Clayton’s house.

“Well look who it is,” Christian opens the door, greeting me with a friendly smile. “Clayton said you would be coming over!”

“Yeah,” I mumble, unsure of how to react to his words. He steps to the side and I enter the house, taking my shoes off and setting them beside the door.

“He’s just in his room, you know where that is, right?” He asks.

I nod, giving him a polite smile before walking down the hall towards the room I’ve been in a couple of times now. I walk in to see Clayton slouched against his headboard, video game controller in his hands and his eyes on the TV.

Really? I came over just to watch him play video games?

He doesn’t say anything and he doesn’t even look at me, but he lifts his arms and motions towards his lap, a sign for me to climb in. I make myself cozy against his body, watching whatever stupid shooter game he’s playing.

Despite the annoyance flooding through my veins, I snuggle closer to Clayton, cherishing the few moments of the day that I get to rest.

“How was your day?” He questions, montone.

“Hectic. You?”

He hums, pressing a button extra hard on the controller. Once he loses all three of his lives I ask, “So do you want to do something now?”

“Yeah, play another round,” he responds, restarting the game.

“So you knew that I have a busy week but begged me to give you attention and now you’re sitting here playing video games.” I sit up in his lap, turning to make eye contact. He avoids my eyes, staring at the TV screen. “Explain that to me.”

“I don’t know what you want from me, babe.”

I blatantly roll my eyes. “I literally just told you what I want from you. An explanation.”

“Is it too much to ask you to just sit here and watch me play video games?” He asks, exasperated. “Ugh, you made me die.”

“You would’ve died anyways,” I mumble, crawling out of his lap and sitting on the bed next to him with my arms crossed.

“If you’re going to pout then you can just leave.”

My head snaps towards him and I notice that now he’s staring back at me with a blank expression, giving me his full attention.

“What?”

He repeats his sentence and I scoff, sliding my feet onto the floor. I leave without another word, not pleased with the way I leave things but not happy with the way he’s treating me either.

[nashvilletonihon]

Trial By Fire

So I had to update this intro a little bit considering I started writing this post like, 2 weeks ago...It’s the end of desk-warming season here and I’m patting out the butt shaped imprint I have worn into my chair over the last month and am finally getting back in the classroom. (At Kumihama anyway.) For those of you unfamiliar with the Japanese educational system, the brand new school year just started and we welcomed those bright eyed and bushy tailed 一年生 ichinensei (first year students) as they make their high school debut. 

It seems only appropriate then that I just recently finished a whirlwind week long side gig playing tour guide to my mom and sister as they came to visit Japan for the first time ever. Being able to show them around my town, introduce them to my co-workers, friends and the people who have been so influential while working on creating a new life, sharing the history, my favorite foods and secret spots was so incredibly gratifying in the most selfish way. That being said, there is an added level of stress and anxiety to hosting friends and family while living and working in a foreign country. Especially one that doesn’t speak English as it’s first language. Unlike if I was living in the U.K., Ireland, Canada or some other English speaking country, I couldn’t leave my mom and sister alone anywhere. I couldn’t tell them to meet Jacob and I at a certain train station, restaurant or temple for fear of them getting lost and not being able to find them for hours. I couldn’t hand them a menu to let them choose what food to eat or suggest they casually peruse a shop or convenience store because they would have no idea what anything was. (Heck, I don’t know what everything is.) Having to be ‘’on’’ all the time is completely exhausting and honestly, by day number 3 I was about ready to choke my little sister out as I screamed ‘’JUST FIGURE IT OUT LIKE I DO’’ over and over again.

One thing I’ve noticed the most about being a foreigner in Japan is that, like most adult experiences I’ve had, it’s all trial by fire. Of course people will go out of their way to help you, don’t get me wrong. The myths about Japanese politeness are all true, but they’re also just as likely to sit back and watch you struggle. It’s all about balance I guess... Just when you think you’re getting the hang of things (and maybe a little too big for your britches) Japan laughs and knocks you back down again. A prime example would have to be what I now and will forever refer to as, The Parking Incident. As I mentioned, my mom and sister were in the country a few weeks ago, so here’s a very brief look at our schedule: (trust me, it’s pertinent to the story...)

Sunday - They arrive!! Monday - Drive on up to Tango (Where I live.) Tuesday - Tango Wednesday - Drive on down to Kyoto City/Uji (Where Jacob lives.) Thursday - Kyoto City Friday - Nara Saturday - Osaka

The reason our schedule is important to the next bit of my story is because while we booked my mom and sister a hotel room in Kyoto City, Jacob and I stayed at our apartment in Uji. (Don’t worry, I still live in Tango. It’s my future ‘’new’’ apartment.) In a moment of immense clarity and ‘’good thinking’’ on my part, I decided to leave my car at the pay-per-day parking lot next to Ogura Station in Uji, which is about an 8 minute walk from our apartment. Since Jacob and I would be taking the train to and from the city, my car could just chill there for the 4 days I wouldn’t need it. At ￥600 a day (or roughly $5.37 USD) it was a gosh darn STEAL. Now let’s fast forward to Sunday after my mom and sister left. Jacob and I are going to Costco because, PIZZA, (and other stuff too I guess). We’re laughing and having a great time despite the rain that’s starting to fall when I ask Jacob to tell me which number spot I had parked in. His first response if 6. I punch in the number and the machine says I owe ￥600. I tell him that can’t be right because I’ve been there for longer than a day. He then proceeds to tell me it was actually 5. So I press 5 and I swear to the gods above, if I had been drinking something when I saw the price I would have done a spit take. ￥13,400 ($119.97 USD). I shake my head and stutter ‘’That...that can’t be right. Are you sure it’s 5???’’ trying not to let the immense amount of panic I am now feeling rise up and take control. Jacob checked again and it was, indeed, number 5. I did the quick mental math and, while I’m no genius, I should only owe ￥2400. ￥600 a day X 4 days = ￥2400. I certainly shouldn’t owe as much as the tiny green machine was telling me I did. So Jacob and I decide to divide and conquer. We check every sign and piece of paper once, twice, three times in search of ANY kind of information that could be in red to highlight it’s more important than the rest. When none are to be found, we both agree it’s a good idea to call the help number and neither one of us are surprised when no one on the other end speaks English. In the worst and most rudimentary broken Japanese Jacob tries to explain the situation while also asking if there is anything that can be done. We have no idea why it’s so much and are begging to understand. After 20 minutes of this, the man on the other end of the line just keeps repeating one phrase which we later figure out loosely translates to ‘’Your loss.’’  Not satisfied with that answer, I decide to call my friend, and Prefectural Advisor, Leah. She’s parked in these types of lots before so I knew she would be familiar with them. After explaining the situation, I send her a photo of the largest sign at the front of the lot. 30 second later she informs me that in small writing underneath the daily fee it states ‘’If here for more than 48 hours, the charge will be ￥600 every 20 minutes.’’ I’m not exaggerating when I say that I literally dry heaved. For a little over 2 days my car had been charged almost $6 every 20 minutes until it reached a whopping $120. Tears spring to my eyes as I hang up the phone and tell Jacob the news. I’m going to have to pay all of it to get my car out... 

The best part about all of this is that the machine only takes ￥1,000 or roughly 10 dollar bills and coins. Neither Jacob nor I have that much money on us in the bills needed. Gritting my teeth I march toward the nearest convenience store to use their ATM while Jacob walks to his bank across the street. As I furiously punch buttons on the ATM, I silently curse Japan. I curse the language that I cannot speak, the words I cannot read, the culture I cannot understand. I curse  myself for thinking I had it all figured out without a moment’s hesitation at the thought that maybe ￥600 a day was a little too good to be true. I mean, where in America do you find that type of price without some kind of catch??? I snatch the money from the machine and stalk back outside, down the street and back to the parking meter. A few moments later Jacob is next to me helping feed bills into the slot. With about ￥8,000 left we run out of ￥1,000 bills. I’m so mad I almost punch the machine. At this point it’s raining and I’m honestly wondering if things can get any worse. Jacob tells me it’s going to be ok and runs off to get more ￥1,000 notes. I stand there fuming and jamming what little amount of coins I have in my wallet into the meter until Jacob come back, sweaty and out of breath, with more money clutched in one hand and a 鯛焼き taiyaki (a fish shaped pastry with any number of fillings inside (but mine was chocolate)) held in the other. He smiles and hands me the 鯛焼き before putting the final 1,000 yens into the machine. (There are many reasons why I love that man but the fact that even in the face of what seems like an impossible situation, he still thinks to bring me a sweet treat is definitely near the top.)

We get into the car and quietly share the 鯛焼き while I try not to pout on the way to COSTCO. Having to pay that much money was absolutely awful no question, but the worst part about the entire ordeal was not being able to explain the situation to the help desk worker over the phone. It was the immense feeling of utter helplessness that frustrated me the most. And it’s not just this one isolated situation either. That feeling of helplessness is ever present and all consuming. The things I took for granted while living in America, such as being able to schedule my own appointments, go to have my tires and oil changed, mail a gosh dern letter, are all MONUMENTAL accomplishments over here. Jacob and I talk about this all the time. It’s the one thing we wish people would understand more when it comes to asking about our lives over here. EVERYTHING. IS. SO. FREAKING. DIFFICULT. No, we can’t just ‘‘call the help number and speak to someone about our issue’‘. No we can’t just ‘‘walk into a health clinic and request to be seen.’‘ Hell, we can’t even check the labels on the dang food at the grocery store because it’s much more than just a simple task. It’s mentally preparing yourself to translate, reorder the words and be able to communicate your problem or question correctly. It’s hoping and praying the person you’re speaking to doesn’t use complicated words or phrases you are’t used to hearing that often. (Spoiler alert: They ALWAYS do.) It’s trying your best to meet them halfway and falling embarrassingly short every. single. time. It’s terrifying and frustrating and upsetting. You feel like a child who can’t do the most basic of tasks for themselves and it’s humiliating. You truly have to put your pride aside and swallow that bitterest of pills in order to just...survive. 

I’ll step down off my soapbox now and say that I guess the biggest thing I’d want someone reading this post to take away from it, is this: Be kind to those people who are not from your home country. Be kind to the immigrants and the visitors who are there either trying to make a living or just simply enjoying themselves but who may not be able to speak your country’s mother tongue. They’re doing the best they can. Be patient. Be helpful. Be courteous. As a woman living and working in a country not her own, the smallest of kindnesses can make a world of difference. Japan may be one trial by fire after the next, but I refuse to crack under the pressure. 

 がんばっります。(I will do my best.)

じゃあまた (See you!)

- レイチェル (Rachel)

Oh hey!! Just like at the end of a Marvel movie, here’s a post credits scene consisting of photos showcasing my mom and sister’s time in Japan!!

On their way into 東大寺 Todaiji Temple in 奈良 Nara the deer city.

Elizabeth greatly enjoyed the 鹿 shika (deer). This photo was taken not long after one bit her in the butt because she wasn’t feeding it cookies fast enough. 

My American and Japanese family met for the first time. It was magical. Please ignore Japanese Christoph Waltz in the left hand side of this photo.

One of my favorite places in 奈良 Nara, 春日大社 Kasuga-taisha (the stone lantern temple) is full of beautiful bronze and stone lanterns surrounded by lush, green foliage. 

If you can’t tell by my enormous grin, I was beyond excited to have these gorgeous people all together in the same place.  

[getseriouser]

20 THOUGHTS: Renault is French for ‘no spare seats at Ferrari’

NOT often this column starts with a quote from The Australian. No, it’s not going to be about immigration or how we need to save the white African farmers, its ok, but Peter Lalor has had a shocker.

“The laws of the land do not stop at the boundary line of a football oval, but you would be forgiven for thinking that they did… Why shouldn’t players be done for assault?”

Hmm ok, so when Shane Mumford annihilated Mitch Duncan in Canberra two years ago, a tackle come bump, right up the middle but not high, that would be assault as well? Not as grievous as Gaff on Brayshaw but where’s the line, Peter?

Someone gets sold candy and looks as foolish as Donald Trump at a spelling bee, can they sue for character defamation? Players can file VCAT cases when delisted for unfair dismissal? What about journos who make silly and prosperous statements about pressing charges in a contact sport, that’s fraud surely against those who are paying money for allegedly ‘quality journalism’ as Australian subscribes?

Never mind, Peter writes for a publication with a readership smaller than the Mr. Men books so he is just unlucky we even noticed.

Moving on.

 1.       Ok, onto Mr Gaff properly. So this has been written bits on Monday, bits on Tuesday, but before the verdict. Jeremy Cameron with his hit on Harris Andrews, he had priors, it was in play but did a fair bit of damage, he got five weeks. Tom Bugg, last year on Callum Mills, it was behind play, Mills was concussed and sat out the rest of the game but returned the following weekend, Bugg got six. For mine, Gaff, despite his pristine record and exceptional character, given it was behind play and did more damage than Barry Hall on Brent Staker, it starts at seven. Either way he doesn’t play again this year, no matter the Eagles season and finals from here.

2.       Rated Ross Lyon’s presser, we’ve sorta forgot him a bit over here on the eastern seaboard but was awesome at St Kilda, has brought Freo as a club into relevance and is now trying to rebuild as quickly as he can. He was emotional, raw, super empathetic to the Brayshaw family and if you’re a Dockers fan you’d love to fall in behind him on the road ahead, just terrific.

3.       West Coast in Perth. Wow. Gaff will get one of the biggest suspensions in recent times and the Eagles CEO comes out the next day, calls a presser, and tries to hijack the narrative with a drive-by for Ross Lyon. My view was that Lyon was brilliant but even if you found his comments post-game fractionally too emotional, Trevor, just don’t go there, this is about your player’s actions, not about deflecting. The Eagles are as arrogant a sporting club you’ll find, especially at home, they can’t be touched, or at least think they can’t be.

4.       Red cards come up again. The NRL has the ability to send players off, and rarely does, so let’s not give the umpires another thing to stuff up, because to wrongly or unfairly use a red card in our spot would be so much worse than to not have the option for that once in a blue moon event in the first place, let me assure you.

5.       "If there are people out there, managers, who are prepared to get up on radio and say 'Don't go to the Gold Coast', we'll have them in court as quick as we can.”

That’s Mark Evans, Suns CEO, on reports that player managers are, as per their position description, providing advice and counsel to their clients, vis a vis that a move to the Suns is, correctly too, a poor one. So Mark thinks he can take those managers to court? To you Mark, we just have one word – lolz.

6.       Tom Lynch exercises his right and will return to Melbourne. Fair enough. But for the Suns to put up some players internally, in a confrontational sort of exit, criticising and demeaning Lynch for his decision is bad enough. But to put up young players, most notably Lachie Weller who did the exact same thing in ditching Fremantle to head back home only ten months ago, is so ironically laughable it’s gotta be a for a prank show on Channel Ten or something. This is a serious AFL club?

7.       So the Crows win by a whisker because the goal umpire missed Josh Jenkins’ snap grazing the post and the score review showed nothing conclusive to go against the initial call. What do we do? Snicko or hot spot perhaps? Or better still, whatever the tennis use for a let on a serve, have that tech installed in all goal posts from perhaps above the padding up, whooshka. But get it right though, the camera angles at present are still a half pregnant solution.

8.       Whilst we’re fixing the game, advantage rule, don’t blow the whistle until there’s no longer an advantage. Like Rugby Union, where the ref puts his hand up to signal a penalty, only then going to the whistle to stop the play. So, for footy, the umpire sees a free kick but the team still has possession, he then puts his arm out to signal a free kick but if the advantage isn’t there, only then would the umpire blow the whistle. Simple. Next.

9.       “At the very least, the 6-6-6 format after goals will be adopted…”

“…the bigger picture — and that’s to spread the ground and stop 30 players congregating within 30m of a stoppage in the 50m arcs.”

That’s from old mate Robbo in his Monday blurbs.

We had a terrific game of football on Saturday afternoon between the Hawks and Bombers whilst the AFL had erections for rule changes watching Coburg and Werribee trial the new ideas.

But to Robbo’s point that the main rule change at play, the very satanic 6-6-6 starting positions will ‘spread the ground and stop players congregating’ is laughable. Once the ball is bounced after a goal, those starting positions go to the proverbial and then there’s nothing to stop said congregations around the pill. Unless you’re locking players to zones like netball people like Robbo need to start thinking things through.

10.   Something about this state of the game talk – we’re changing the rules drastically. Why? Because of two main things – crowds are down and free to air television ratings are too. Firstly crowds, let’s have a look at them properly broken down. Perth has a new stadium and its getting filled, that’s a big tick. Adelaide, same thing just five years ahead, another tick. Geelong is expanding the size of Kardinia Park and filling it too, so that’s three new or expanded grounds getting bums on seats. Good. The big ticket though is crowds at the MCG or Marvel.

And we’ve done the numbers on that: ten years ago crowds between Victorian clubs at those two grounds were 1% higher, which equates to about 1000 people less per game. That’s nothing. The bigger picture shows it being greater but that’s when you take into account Melbourne clubs hosting the GWS or the Suns, which of course will impact numbers. So we’re losing our shit on 1%? When membership across the board is way up too?

Also Fox Footy subscriptions are up, about an extra 100,000 people are watching football each weekend on Foxtel than ten years ago, so wash that against the 1000 less at the ‘G or Colonial and I’m pretty happy.

That Foxtel figure might also eat into those FTA figures somewhat but let’s look at Masterchef. Each of the ten seasons’ finales has been the number one ranked show in the ratings, but the audiences in raw figures have dropped over 60%. Season One and Two had finales over 3.5 million each time, last week’s finale, still arguably as ‘popular’ relative to those who watch television, only 1.3 million.

So are footy ratings down because the goal square isn’t long enough or because we just aren’t watching free to air like we once did?

And lastly on that TV angle – if the ratings are down, why do we think it’s all down to the rules and not because we schedule crap games in prime slots, or perhaps the production of Channel Seven and how good that is compared to Fox Footy’s, or what we got with Channel Nine which was unquestionably far better presented?

11.   Right, some onfield stuff? No, not yet, AFLW. Just shocking PR. Firstly, the comp isn’t ready to be expanded; clearly, the league can’t schedule any more games. So the mistake sits with premature expansion from 8 to 10 teams before you worry about the patronising decision to limit the games for the next season. But to have such disengagement between Town Hall and the women's game biggest stars is just such a bad look. The only way to fix it, given they can’t renege on expansion now, is to cop it on the chin and play the extra games and go up against Big Bash and tennis. Even though, as they’d well know, that will only increase the loss they write off each year to run the women’s game – it’s a mile off breaking even but they are too far in now.

12.   Some onfield stuff now? Yes, finally. The Giants first. Even though it was only the Blues, the fact they played with 18 for so long and then even a man or two short onfield and could score so easily was a testament to not just their talent but their fortitude. A lesser side would almost let the Blues win that final term, just shut up shop and get back to Sydney to lick their wounds. But they are that good they got the margin over 100.

13.   If they can get some names back and be reasonably fit come September they would be the ones to trouble the Tigers, even on the ‘G. But it’s their injury list, and the Pies one as well to be fair, that might be the clincher for Richmond going back to back. All three reasonably fully fit would go toe to toe deep in September, but Richmond being the healthiest gives them an almost unassailable advantage.

14.   Port Adelaide can’t score. Pretty handy thing in this game to be able to score more than your opponents and the last month or so they’ve barely managed a good half time score let alone a winning full time one. Big problems there and it’s not an easy run home. Could miss the eight which given their draw post-bye would be unacceptable.

15.   Great to have Nathan Freeman debut on the weekend, Alex Johnson get back after not playing since the War, funny seeing him play without panty hose and a cap, Brodie Smith got back after the tragedy of the knee injury during last year’s finals and Aaron Vandenberg as well, his last game was against Fitzroy so good to see him back out in the red and blue too.

16.   Ben Stratton is the best defender in the game. Locks down on a variety of players as good as any, but also takes the intercepts as well as any too. A less flashy Alex Rance with the intercept prowess close to Jeremy McGovern. Just without the fanfare. The Hawks could go deep and his influence is pivotal.

17.   Still hoping for another Richmond-Clarkson matchup at some stage. Hawthorn are not a top-four side by any stretch but have the best coach most of us have ever seen - after that Round 3 sighter he has had months to plot his plan. He may be a star or two short, but Clarko elevates teams to levels such he might not need it. If he gets his chance at Richmond in September, underestimate his coaching brilliance at your own risk.

18.   Saturday afternoon football, whilst it doesn’t help the broadcaster (see above), has been elite. We’ve had the big game between Richmond and Collingwood followed by an epic last weekend and we’ve got the Hawks and Cats to write another storied chapter this week. Had these three games been the Saturday night timeslot instead I would have needed a different topic for thought number 10.

19.   Alex Di Minaur. Remember him? Teenager, who got hot in the early parts of the summer of tennis eight months back, caused a stir before doing nothing, non-surprisingly, at the Australian Open. However he has had a very decent year since then for his age and that peaked last week when he made the final of the Washington Open losing in straight sets to world no.3 Alexander Zverev. He is now ranked inside the top 50 which for a 19-year-old is a phenomenal achievement. And crucially, where the likes of Kyrgios and Tomic have resembled the brat of Lleyton Hewitt early in his career, Di Minaur already resembles the tenacious fighter of Hewitt in the peak of his career, so the signs are good. Remember the name.

20.   And we finish with the A-League, where the Melbourne Victory had a fair coup this week signing Japanese star Keisuke Honda. Well, he has retired from international football so on the back end of his career very much but still, for the Victory he should be handy. But it seems in the formulation of the deal that Fox Sports has either been a key powerbroker or perhaps even a financial backer to acquire his signature. Given the league tried to recruit Fernando Torres itself before having a club actually committed to even having him, and then possibly allows the broadcaster to play a part in club signing players, perhaps this is the gimmicky tournament Daisy Pearce was talking about. My word…

(originally published 7 August)

[thehexadecimalasylum]

23.42.0

February 10th, 2017.

Topics: work, deadline, absences, leadership and management, family

It’s a Friday again, and it’s a positive that the week comes to a close.

I was a little relieved of my issue manager duties since I was assigned to be a backup deployment manager until the primary goes home by 10 in the evening. Luckily, the one who replaced me did not encounter the severity of the major issues which I got yesterday. I was a bit envious though, and as I always say, I’m really the only unlucky one in the team.

There was an activity that requires the team to finish it within a specified time, and my teammate is a little worried about the deadline, so I offered my help. The thing is, my other teammate is struggling to finish his task, even though there is already a document ready for it. I just guided him in every way I could, despite the fact that I do not know everything about it. For my own task, I was lucky that it will be postponed for missing things that are not assigned to us.

I know it’s hard for me to take the bitter pill, but sometimes I get annoyed when there are a lot of absences in a day. As I noticed, there is always a minimum of 2 absences per day. For today, there is 6. Some are in training and sick, and I understand their situations. Some are on vacation as well, and some are on emergency. I can’t help but feel bad for our team since we are shorthanded most of the time, and I have nothing to do but just step up and perform. There are times that I wanted to play sick even though I’m not, and I already joked to my lead about it, but I just have to be thankful to God that I don’t get much sickness and injury. Still, these things have happened frequently, and we cannot bear to have a lot of people being absent a lot of times, especially when it’s a day with a lot of tasks. I wanted to speak up about my frustration about it, but I guess it isn’t justifiable because sickness and emergencies are inevitable, and trainings and vacations are pre-approved. I just need to accept facts and swallow my concern.

It was a relatively slow day for issues and deployments, but things are uncontrollable. Suddenly, a task was given to us by Italian team, and it was directly addressed to our lead. He then gives it to our teammate who will assign the tasks to us. I was pissed because in previous instances, he just answers the email and does not get involved in activities. This time, he created a group chat for us. Unfortunately, I was the first one to do the task, so I have no other choice. The lead asks me to review the given package, and he was so annoying for telling me to give him updates. It’s also my first time to get involved on the environment so I asked him about the process, but he also doesn’t even know how deployment is going to be done so I have no trust in him whatsoever. Incidentally, the client again requests for a person who will accommodate their deployment, and my other teammate is out for an emergency, so I know it’s going to be me even if I like it or not. We already had a meeting yesterday about it, but since the client is already on escalation to higher managers, I was really asked to do it for them. The lead asked me to stop what I am doing, and attend to the needs of the client. A nice way to shut him up. So I took care of the pesky client again. When I was about to return to our task earlier, the lead told us to stop everything since the Italian team needs to review something, then we waited. It is later confirmed that the activity will be continued on Monday.

I was also asked by my other lead if I could fill in for a late mid shift slot which is currently not yet assigned. I said that I could do it if nobody wants it or there is no other choice. I was then appointed to the 6 PM to 4 AM slot alongside two of my teammates, and it will be for 2 weeks. I really hate late notice announcements, and as said yesterday that saying no is an option, but I have no other choice but to accept it.

There are times that I don’t trust the management because of their decision making and leadership skills, but I don’t have a choice since I’m just a junior in the team. I’m just hoping for at least a little glimmer of change.

I went home alone again, ate at Jollibee and bought some bread along the way for my parents. I walked at one point because there were no tricycles, and when I reached home, the store was closed. I knocked at the gate since my dad is usually up that early. I even texted their phones, but no one seemed to answer. It was a weird and awkward feeling that I am still waiting outside of our house. Until my dad went out and opened the store. He was surprised that I’m there. He even told me that he did not receive a text from me, which I surely had done. I was a little disappointed, but I had to move on. My mother then came and had a little chat with me. My family seems to have no interest on what I want to say every time I go home here, especially my dad. It’s sad, but I have to face it.

I’m really hoping for change.