#spent 8hrs hanging out

[gregorgregor]

Sometimes the plan is to have no plans

[lonelyplanetfag]

spent 8hrs Hanging Out today n im still miserable. whats up w that

[lmanberg]

just some observations... watching t being himself on his alt and it’s so clear he’s really cynical and pessimistic, unlike how people perceive him. he’s said struggles to give advice (such as when asked how to start streaming, he says give up, that it’s stressful, and although he’s partially joking, you can tell he means it too). he often thinks the worst in situations too. he’s really critical of himself a lot and puts so much stress on himself, like he mentioned the lore today was really stressful and that he should’ve planned more. he then criticised his appearance, saying he looked a mess - something he does a concerning amount. he is kinda insecure about it - he doesn’t use full cam on stream because he hates how he looks, he’s said he’s most insecure of his legs, often hiding his arms/legs with long sleeves/hoodies etc. and he’s mentioned he hated trampolining/swimming partially because it showed off his body so much. he also has a really unhealthy relationship with food - he often forgets to eat, and doesn’t really eat anything heavy. then he eats too much at once and feels sick and has mentioned wanting to throw up afterwards several times as well as calling himself fat a lot :( i think he’s not too good at self-care, and that’s why he ends up doing things mindlessly (like socks in the shower). it also is worrying that his dreams sound so damn horrific. i guess that’s the flaw of having an overactive imagination, but dude, i hope he’s able to sleep well. he mentioned yesterday that sometimes he wakes up still in the dream, and frantically starts packing things in his room to deal with the dream before realising it’s not real. he also sleeps in the shower D: so dangerous. he needs to take care of himself, actually.

and the way he said he doesn’t really get motivated easily, but when he see how much work tmmy puts in, and is asked what he’s up to, he ends up working on things too. it’s nice to see that his friends are something that help motivate him, but it also is kinda worrying. i wonder if he would truly be okay on his own. you can kinda tell he just wants to chill with his friends and follows/values their lead and advice, and is quite dependant and reliant on them to being happy, and doesn’t really do well alone. which, paired with how he doesn’t actively say his feelings, could mean that he suffers alone sometimes and doesn’t talk about what’s bothering him in the moment :( especially to not worry others. such a damn t thing to do.

the way he asks a lot where people are to play with but doesn’t actively seek people out to hang with, he used to, but you can tell he doesn’t wanna bother people (like how he doesn’t call r on stream anymore). if he prepared more streams/lobbies, i think he would enjoy it more. he’s obviously an introvert but likes company in small groups. he’s much happier and energetic with people, and so these quiet hours show off this other side we don’t see often. he mentioned recently that the past few weeks have been especially stressful - and i have a feeling part of it is that he doesn’t really have people to regularly stream with anymore, which could’ve lowered his enthusiasm for streams. tmmy barely streams, r is busy doing homework, and others don’t log in as much at the times he’s live. so it’s not surprising the alt has become a place where he doesn’t have to be the t we expect, but can vibe on his own without being asked if he’s sad when he’s just low energy. and it explains why he’s moving his main to be more planned content, rather than burning out by streaming unplanned content everyday. the only concern with the alt is that he could get lost in it. tmmy told him after his first (8hr) stream to not fall into overstreaming on there, as that wasn’t why tmmy recommended creating an alt (i think tmmy saw it as something that can feel more freeing). t is still streaming a very long time though, and i wonder if this is how t spent his days before? or by streaming on his alt it deters him from hanging with others (like being on r’s stream, since r won’t want to bother him, while he’s live, and t thinks r won’t want him there - he said that earlier this stream)? it’s very chill and therapeutic though :D

t said that he doesn’t really feel like he deserves us. he said he hasn’t done anything noteworthy to be proud of, like charity work or something, only proud of his server work. i think he views his success as something that came about from luck, and he compares it a lot to his friends. he clearly recognises how essential tmmy was to it, in that tmmy told him not to quit, and brought him along as he blew up. but i wish he knew that he was valued for actually being an interesting cc on his own, and not just see himself as a fleeting person that no one will care about in the future. however, i hope his ambition and drive to create will allow him to realise he is worthy in the future when he gives something meaning like his server :) he’s so real, too. when asked how to network, he said he didn’t like the phrase, but just liked making friends. it’s not surprising that everyone adores him when he’s so damn genuine, just looking solely for friends :’)

i hope you enjoyed my appreciation of t as a person!! ps can i be 🧩 anon?

Tubbo honestly deserves the world. You’re super right when you say that he relies on his friends for motivation, and I have a big feeling that if he ever was to live with someone else he would rely on them a lot for keeping him on a schedule for sleeping/eating/drinking. It’s a common habit, but very unhealthy in the long run. I do really hope he finds a way to eat/sleep/drink regularly, I myself struggle with it just because I don’t get hungry or thirsty or any of that. My methods is to keep water and food near me to eat/drink when I’m bored. He kinda does that with his parents giving him food, so that’s good. I think when he grows up and has a more strict schedule with streaming or an actual job on the side that he’ll get better with it, but he has to learn to rely on himself rather than his friends. Getting help from friends is fine, but overly relying can be dangerous.

[ranxco]

not even sure i’d be able to even post this all in one post lol. basically JK decided to come back to our lives. after “breaking up” with his gf. he blew us off for an entire year because it was either her or us (she gave him an ultimatum). when JK first told us about his relationship, it was shady (he was being secretive about his gf) but he was happy. it was like the honeymoon phase; everything was great. but slowly, there were red flags. she wouldn’t allow him to hang out w his friends or even talk to them. he wasn’t allowed to talk to any of his female friends, let alone any females in general lmao. she lived in a different country so there was an approx 8hr time difference and they would be on the phone for minimum 6hrs. she always wanted to talk w him. she had access to his socials. and don’t have me mistaken, JK was also in the wrong. he was his own person and grown enough to make his own decisions. he was aware of the toxicity (he told me this explicitly when he was in a fight w her or he was very frustrated in the kind of relationship he was in) and made the unfortunate poor decision to continue to be in said relationship. at first, when we all began to see signs of a toxic relationship, we gave him warnings. telling JK this wasn’t it. that it was unhealthy. but he didn’t listen to us. the day when he officially told me how absurd and ridiculous parts of his relationship was, that was when i took a more “offensive” stance. i’d state he needed to break up w her. multiple times. all the time. but because he was in “love”, my words never got through him. they would fight, breakup, get back together, repeat. they’ve done this a million times within the 11ish months they’ve been together (he told us this today and not a shocker since this was a norm earlier than 11ish months). when he chose his gf over me (yes, we are now switching from “us” to “me”), that’s when things began to more or less fall apart. he would ignore me (he wasn’t allowed to speak and talk w me or any females). he always needed her persmission to hang out. he never came to visit me or spent time w me. basically, he dropped from earth. he was told to delete all his socials (which he did). if he did have a social, usually instagram, he was only allowed to follow his gf and gf’s sister. he was gone. and i was hurt. a lot. a lot more than i would like to admit. he was my closest guy friend. and honestly, i cared a lot about him. i tried my best to show him the signs but when it became clear i couldn’t get through to him, that was when i took a step back. maybe as a close friend, i should’ve never given up. but there was only so much i could do. especially when he locked himself away despite my attempts to keep in touch. i told him i “understood” his position and would let him do what he wants. because he “loved” her and i, as his friend, will take a step back so he had one less problem to worry about. his relationship w his gf was rocky as is and i made the executive decision to make one of his problems disappear. JK, regardless of everything, still means a lot to me. he contacted me today, while i was w the girls, and we all met up. i was very happy. extremely. but only a fool would think that this would be forever. he reached out only because he was “allowed” to; he was single. we talked and talked as a group. and while i wish i could just tell him how sad i was, it’s difficult. allowing him back into my life when he could just as easily leave isn’t fair to me. and value myself much more than giving him that kind of satisfaction. he says it’s done w his gf. said that he respects me (as well as my girls). and that if his gf does not want to respect that aspect, then she can’t be part of his life. his gf wants him to pick between her and me. i told him that i was 100% comfortable w him having her and me. but i also told him last night that if he chooses her over us, then our relationship would be on pause as i have no intention of allowing myself to be beat up over this. he says i am important and that he cares for me...

[95wonder]

In high school they said college would be harder. I heard tales of all-nighters, of how the A+ students hardly slept.

When I got to college it was easier than high school. Sure they were assigning me more reading, more writing, but at least it was interesting, or most classes were. Some were dull and repetitive just like high school, but only 3 classes in my degree plan had me following the “two hours of work outside class for every hour spent inside class” guideline they gave me as a freshman. I spent about 3hrs a day 6 days a week on classwork. Slept 10hrs a night.

When I applied for graduate school I heard tales of beleaguered grad students, my friends recalling reading and writing so much they didn’t want to touch a book for years afterward.

When I got to graduate school it was easier than undergrad. Sure there was even more reading, and even more writing, but none of the classes were dull repetitive filler. I spend about the same amount of time on classwork as in undergrad. I sleep 10hrs a night. I spend most of my time reading for fun, crafting, and hanging out with my partner.

People are now telling me a career in academia is hard, cutthroat, and a huge workload. I’m finding it hard to believe them.

School didn’t get harder because reading and writing have been my primary special interests since I started reading for fun (3yrs old) and writing for fun (11yrs old). More reading and more writing isn’t a huge obstacle, it’s doing things I enjoy, but “productive”.

They also told me minimum wage jobs were “unskilled” or for “lazy” people. I have never held down a job for more than a year. I burn out, whether it was after two weeks or six months, I cannot handle that much work. My body started shutting down after 3 months of working full time.

My co-workers heard I was going back to school for my master’s and they scoffed “I could never”. They didn’t seem to understand that I could never follow in their footsteps. That reading scientific literature for hours on end is my idea of a good time, but just existing on the clock for 8hrs a day is unbearable.

Schoolwork and academia are task-based work systems. It’s about finishing certain tasks by certain deadlines, no matter how fast or slow it takes you. I thrive because I can shit out an A+ 10pg paper in 8hrs, because I can read, comprehend, and remember what I’ve read at 300wpm.

Wage based employment is a time based system. It largely doesn’t matter how much you do or don’t do during your shift, what matters is that you are physically present and composed for 8hrs a day, 5 days a week.

As an autistic person especially, having to mask and camouflage enough to not get fired for being “unprofessional” is an exhausting task to do for 8hrs straight let alone 40hrs a week.

Being able to do special interest related tasks at my home, in private, is easy as pie. If I need to shake my hands out after every line of data I input? no problem. If I need to wiggle and squeak while I read? no one cares. I can crochet during class, I never have to make eye contact, and I’ve never had a professor who gave enough of a shit to tell me otherwise because the proof was in the pudding, in the grades I churned out.

I think that’s why the whole “skilled vs unskilled labor” or any kind of hierarchy of tasks is bullshit. Because I know exactly how subjective all of those categorizations are. Because for me “unskilled labor” is hard as shit and “skilled labor” is a breeze. They like to pretend that “anyone could be a cashier, but it takes someone special/smart/skilled to be a doctor/professor” as though I’m not right here, utterly incapable of being a cashier and cruising through grad school no problem.

[scarlett-olivier]

10 (30?) Questions Writing Game

Hey, y'all. I've been meaning to do this for a hot minute now. Ever since I got tagged by our lovely @faireladypenumbra. So without further ado, lets get started.

1. What do you hope to communicate to your audience with your WIP?

Find the people who appreciate you for you. Even the best of us have hard times. Finally, even if you've had a really shitty past, or are currently in a shitty situation, you can still be the hero of your own story and possibly to someone else too. ^.^

2. What do you find the hardest to write? (Ex: emotion, humor, seduction, etc...)

Anything fast paced is notoriously difficult for me to write. Humor, wit, action, any of those things that live in the fast lane, and are usually just a one-two punch, are horrendous labor. They take forever to write (I'm sure there's some kind of irony in that statement). I love for my audience to be able to savor the moment and live vicariously through my characters, so fast paced moments always feel well, rushed and forced to me. It takes at least 4 drafts of the scene for me to feel alright about it.

3. How bad do you feel your first draft was/is?

Oh, my, holey spacerocks batman, was it awful. POV breaks, spelling errors (their mostly. I before E my ASS. My peeps, beware of the grammar fuckery, it abounds everywhere.), wrong verb usage, and just all around plot and flow shittiness. I kept some of it, but 2/3 got hit in the face with a rusty crowbar, shoved right up in the payload area of a rocket, and blasted off into the sun.

4. What is your favorite genre to read? Write?

Fantasy. To both. All the fantasy. Gimme.

5. Who have you based your style of writing off of?

Honestly, I'd like to think that I've picked up bits and pieces from a multitude of various authors' style and garishly sewed it all together to fashion my own personal brand of magnificent monstrosity. However if you forced me to narrow it down to three specific authors, I'd have to say... Edgar Allen Poe, Jane Austen, and Angie Sage.

6. What made you want to publish your work?

I ran out of books on my bookshelf, and I'd read the ones I had to the point I could almost recite them by rote. While I was writing my first story, I thought that my problem could be someone else problem too, and it was selfish of me to hoard these stories I kept on inventing to myself when someine out there might like them. So, I decided to share.

7. What have you had to research the most for your WIP?

How to write. Due to my upbringing's effect on my mental health, and the fact that I'm a high school drop out deciding to get together and tag team my self confidence into the nearest portapotty and flip it down a hill, I'm incredibly hypercritical of my own abilities. Therefore, I acknowledge that I lack the ability to judge my own work properly and rely heavily upon research, beta readers, and critique partner feedback to appropriately improve and turn out a quality product.

8. What character do you like (that you've written) the least?

Hmmm...... Merlin. He's a douchenozzle in a saint's disguise. If he were real, I'd have to punch him. Repeatedly. In the face.

9. Are you basing any of your WIP off your life and what would it be ( if not to spoiler - ex: people, places, situations)?

Finally, an easy question! Yes and no. Every author draws inspiration from life, but as far as specific instances or anything of that nature? No.

10. Who would you dedicate you book to?

My mom, my daughter, my fiancee, and my critique partner. Without them, the book would've never happened, for whatever reason.

11. If you could steal one idea from a famous author, what would it be?

I dunno. Honestly, even if I were able to do that morally, what would I possibly DO with it? I think the reason some stories are timeless is, in part, due to the author. They've poured their heart and soul into their work, breathing a life into it that could've only been so perfectly captured by them. Even if I took the idea, it wouldnt turn out the same in the end. For example, my Frankenstein would be vastly different from Mary Shelley's, simply because we're two different people with different values, morals, beliefs, and standards. I'm not saying my version would've been bad, per se, but it definitely wouldn't have been Mary Shelley. In ancient times, it was thought that the story (carried by the muses) chose the author, and the author had minimal control over what story they were to write, and I kind of follow that line of thinking.

12. What's been the hardest to write in your WIP so far? (Ex: beginnings, middles, ends, etc.)

Beginnings are the bane of my existence. Like I said before, I'm hypercritical of my abilities, so during the beginning of a story (before I get into the flow of things) I spend a ludicrous amount of time going over, and over, and over, and over my starts. On the plus side though, by the time I'm somewhat satisfied by the "first draft" of my beginning, the rest seems to fly by in comparison. Just gotta get over that initial hump. 😉😜

13. Which characters in your WIP get along the worst? The best?

I'd have to say Merek and Rowan, as the worst. As the best.... Cassandra and Nimue.

14. Tea, coffee, water, or nothing when working?

Tea, mostly. Tea is life. Followed by Redbull and Pepsi. I rarely drink coffee.

15. Is your desk organized or messy?

*eyes a particularly large stack of objects suspiciously.* Hang on a sec. *sweeps the uppermost of the stacks onto the floor with both arms.* Amazeballs! I actually have a desk! How long has that been there?!

16. Can you summarize your favorite piece of writing (that you've created)?

Orphaned girl gets captured by strange creatures and thrown into a world not her own, where she's informed she will finds out that not only is she NOT an orphan, but she will have to fight one of her parents to the death for the fate of the multiverse.

17. How long have you been working on your current WIP?

About a year and a half? Ish. It will, hopefully soon, be my first published novel. 😸😸😸😸

18. Sum up your main characters in three words. (Sorry, not a question)

Nimue- Troubled, stubborn, curious

19. What time of day are you most productive?

1 bloody a.m., when I'm trying to sleep.

20. What's your favorite fictional place?

Neverland. Because Alliteration. Magnificent Murderous Mermaids....

😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😄

21. What book inspired you to write the most?

Probs a toss up between T.A. Barron's The Lost Years of Merlin series, Tamora Pierce's The Circle Opens series, and Cecelia Dart-Thornton's The Bitterbynde series. I love all of them.

22. Do you write by hand, type, or some combination of the two?

Both. I prefer to type because it's far easier on my hands and joints, but writing by hand seems to improve my productivity. Not that I have the option of typing atm... My fan quit on my laptop and I can't afford the replacement part for it. 😭😭😭😭 why, wiritng gods, WHY?!

23. A book you would recommend to anyone?

Well, unfortunately, there is no such thing as a one-size-fits-all book. Books are usually targeted towards a specific audience, and will tend to go over better with that audience, than with those aren't part of that particular grouping. A book recommendation is a highly personalized experience based on a variety of factors such as; age, gender, orientation, beliefs, and morality.

29. What is the one thing you NEED while writing, that isn't necessarily a writing tool?

Scully, my skull shaped pillow, a warm blanket, and music. 😆 I know you said one thing. I lumped them all together under the comfort umbrella. Comfortability is a major factor in my productivity levels. If I'm in pain, those levels drop, sharply.

25. How much time do you spend writing?

Ideally? When I'm not in the midst of a pain flare up, 30hrs a week is pretty typical.

If I'm in the middle of a flare up? 10 to 15hrs per week. I hate myself for it all the time.

26. How much time do you wish you spent writing?

Again, ideally, I would wish to spend about 8hrs a day, 5x a week on writing. This would leave the weekends open for time with my loved ones.

27. Do you set writing goals? If so, what is your writing goal for this year?

Oh boy. I set myself some unrealistic goals. They are as follows;

- Finish writing my horror short story, edit, and publish it.

- Finish editing my novel 'Something Wicked'

- Send out ARC copies of my novel

- Set a solid publishing time table and sales goal for my novel.

28. What's you favorite POV to write in?

Limited third person will always be my go to.

29. How may WIPs do you currently have?

One short story, two novels.

30. What is your favorite thing about writing?

Watching the world, that had previously only been a seed in my imagination, bloom into it's multi-tiered glory.

And so concludes the 30 questions game! Thank you again, to @faireladypenumbra for the tag. Sorry it took me so long to get around to. Also, in return, I'm tagging @alisonhaines and @alittleredfinch. I hope y'all enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed answering the questions. ^.^ Hope y'all have a lovely day.

[theactivememoir]

This, was the Hardest Fall 11.17.19-2.5.2020

Warning: ~10,600 words, This one is long. And very painful.

My life turned to hell in a matter of months, I left California 1.5 years ago and  ever since then it turned into one big mess, and took all the strength I could muster to change that. But it took waking up. And one day I finally did it, I woke up.

But let me start from how this all got started.

I got broken up with 3 days before my 21st birthday in May of 2018. So I moved states after that to live with my cousin in North Carolina for a time. It was supposed to be a small vacation, just a couple months. It was supposed to be me finding myself as to who I am as an adult, how to be independent from living at home with my parents, how to live life. That’s what it was supposed to be...

But then I met him...

I was walking to the bar, since there were only 3 in this small town of Southern Pines and that’s just what you do on a Wednesday night. I saw someone I knew and gave them a hug and they introduced me to this disheveled skater boy named Josh. I didn’t really think anything of it, I met so many people every single day, I was the new girl in town, I ended up meeting everyone anyways.

I think I was still playing around, enjoying being the new girl since that brought all the attention, which is always fun, but he kept persisting. And persisting, and persisting, until finally I said yes to hanging out with him. We spent 36 hours together awake doing things with each other. It started at the bar on a lazy Sunday night, not many people, I could actually hear him talking across the table from me for once. I enjoyed his company, he was different from the rest, not some small town hick, he was actually pretty gentlemanly, and a Florida boy too. So here we were, the two random ocean children in the middle of a luscious green never-ending forest.

We talked and talked, and walked all around downtown after the bar closed down at 2am. There’s something calming-ly romantic about walking the streets of a lullaby downtown. The streets are lit just for us, window shopping is a must, as merchandise in the windows is the only thing to really look at. The stars shone overhead, and the distant rush of the wind, and a couple just passing the time by enjoying each other's company...

Monday was when he was supposed to take me on a date, and as the hours passed by into 7:30 am on the day of our date, we respectively went our separate ways for maybe 30 mins and he picked me up to go on our date.

And what do the only two Ocean Children do for a date?? Why go to the beach of course, an excruciating three hours away. But music and soft touches are enough to keep one's hopes up until the awaited sound of the sea.

When we got there he first took me to an aquarium, and like I always do, I got a pressed penny to solidify the memory. The aquarium was small, nothing beats the Aquarium of the Pacific in Long Beach. “Everything is better in California”

Then we went to the pier, lots of fishing guys out there, we even met a pelican named Frank. We spotted a stingray and a shark so we opted to not touch the water, on my behalf, so we posted up under the pier and laid in my double hammock for God knows how long, resting and snoozing to the crashing waves in the warm August sun. As the night went on and the sunset was breaking, he took me to dinner, and then the drive back home.

It was so calm and relaxing, his soft touches on my skin, drawing random patterns on my arms and neck. I thought I was the only one who did that. He listened to my fusion music and really enjoyed it, at the time he was interested in my dancing and liked how I danced. And he told me how he wrote music and played guitar, he used to surf in the Florida waves, and did construction for the longest time, always stressing his body but never giving up on it. I think that moment in the hammock, when we kissed as the sun hit our faces, our bodies entwined into one in the lightning blue cocoon, that’s when I fell for him. 

I should have known myself, it was only 3 months that I had been single. I should have known better...

“I fall in love too easily, I fall in love too fast, I fall in love so terribly hard for love to ever last…”

I think after that day at the beach we saw each other almost everyday. His sister, who owned Southern Angel Donut Co. offered me a job, which paid way better than my $2.13/hr waitress job. Once I started working there it was all over. We almost never left each other's side. And he kept “calling it” saying working together would ruin our relationship. But I paid it no mind, and enjoyed making light and fluffy donuts with him.

While the rest of the world was sleeping, we were hard at work making the warm, melt in your mouth donuts that Sarah’s recipe was known for. We’d get off work at 10 am, and go to sleep the rest of the day away. A horrible habit that was ingrained into our bones far too early on in our relationship.

I think it was a mere 2.5 weeks that we started dating and seeing each other that I then started working with him at the donut shop. And within that mere 2.5 weeks we made it Facebook official that we were together.

I almost immediately got a phone call from my family members asking about who this person is and that I should be careful since I’m basically on my own and I should ask my cousin for advice about it. I didn’t listen. I was too in love to see that I was moving too quickly, and getting settled too fast.

As I stated before, we almost never left each other’s side. Wake up at 1:30/2 in the morning, go make donuts for 6-8hrs, then come back to his-I mean Sarah’s house, hang out with the kids for a bit, and then go to sleep in his room until around 7pm, or just sleep straight through until we had to work the next day. If memory serves me correctly I went back to my cousin’s house only a handful of times, for new clothes and a breather from Sarah’s gaggle of children.

The weeks blurred by, and the change in lifestyle left my bar friends wondering where the hell I went. My old coworker even reached out to see what the hell I was up to. “Making donuts! It's great!” I would reply. Oh, if only I could go back and tell myself how wrong I was.

No actually that is a lie. Making donuts is great. I’m a baker at heart. I love baking, I used to do it with my mother and so baking things and seeing people's reactions to the delicious delicacies I create for them is something I hold very near and dear to my heart. So yes, the art of making donuts is great. 

First you fill the giant mixing bowl 1.5 liters of warm water, crumble and toss in a block of high quality yeast and whisk together. Then weigh out a top secret amount of top secret donut mix, 2 with all the weight, 1 with one weight off. Followed by attaching the VERY heavy dough hook, turn on the mixer and mix together for 8 minutes.

After the dough is mixed you bring it over to a very well floured baking table, pour out the heavy dough and push it to the back of the table, making sure the edges are fluffed underneath itself so when it rises in about 20mins it will have lovely rounded edges. Then you wait.

After about 20mins, you gently tap the dough, and if it feels right (which is a skill in and of its own) you either let it proof a little longer, or you start cutting donuts.

Now cutting donuts is also an art form, as we made handmade donuts. Each one is a little different from the one before. We cut the donuts with a roller, but each donut was touched by our hands as they were placed onto the frying screens. And then put into the proofer for another 15 mins. 

Once they are proofed, and again, with sight and touching the dough you can tell if they are ready or not. Sometimes they would proof slower or quicker depending on the heat, the humidity, or the weather.

Then bring over to the 365 degree fryer, and drop the donuts in, fry each side for approximately 25-30 seconds, flipping with wooden chopsticks, lift the screen and donuts out of the fry, let drip as you cook the next screen, bring over to the glaze, lift the other screen from the fryer, glaze donuts, let drip, drop another screen, bring glazed donuts to glaze rack, flip donuts, bring screen to glazer, lift donuts, rinse and repeat for 6 -8 hrs.

My favorite part was decorating the donuts, especially when there is a holiday because my fully artistic self got all the pleasure of making themed donuts. But even the regular topped donuts were fun to make. Topping too had an artful skill in creating the perfect topped donut. Which all of the other employees didn’t have one flying fuck to learn to perfect.

There is a certain sheen, a certain drip, a certain way the frosting coats a donut, when melted to the perfect temperature. And no one else besides myself and his Sister cared to figure out what that perfect frosting consisted of. There is also a certain way the donut should look when certain toppings are put onto the donuts.

Sprinkles should, as the name is, be sprinkled, lightly, with carnival sprinkles. All others should be pressed. A maple bacon donut should have the bacon patted off so that the grease doesn't ruin the consistency of the maple frosting, a fruity pebble donut should never have crumbs or crushed pebbles on top, an oreo donut should never have fine oreo powder on top it should be big chunks, and a half and half donut should be vanilla icing first and then chocolate not vice versa. Not to mention cinnamon sugared donuts need to be cinnamon sugared whilst hot and Long Johns are always,always, ALWAYS double filled. If a filled shell has a bubble it should be tossed and if a round has a chopstick hole it too should be tossed because the donut will be too greasy. If the donut doesn’t have a halo it was under proofed and if the donut deflates or cooks too fast it was overproofed. If the donut is light yellow or dark brown it was either undercooked or over fried. A perfect donut is a lovely golden yellow brown, with a heavenly halo all around it, and a perfect thin shiny coating of glaze.

So when I say I enjoyed making donuts, I really did. Truly it was a skill I perfected over the course of a year and a half. I could put down “expert donut maker” on a resume, and I will in fact get laughed at when I say I only made donuts for 1.5 years. But if I showed someone, if I showed how I make donuts, how twists are twisted with minimal flour and second run only, how apple fritters are chopped and rolled, how cinnamon rolls are flattened and fluffed. They would say I really am an expert donut maker.

Three months into my relationship with Josh, it became crunch time for him and his family, as their lease was up at their house and they were going to move. Josh wanted a place of his own and, honestly I don’t know why Sarah moved out of that house in Pinehurst. It was actually a decent size. I think the reasoning was to be closer to the new up and coming second location in Robbins. (I will touch on that later) But honestly where she moved to in Carthage was quite a downgrade. I don’t know what else to call it besides a permanent mobile home? There's a name for it I just can’t remember right now. It had a long length but the width wasn’t very big. A single wide home? There was barely any space for her 6, ahem, 5 children plus one on the way.

Oh I haven’t explained that yet.

Let me backtrack some more.

Josh’s sister, Sarah (32), has been pregnant for most of her life. Her first child, and only daughter, she had when she was fifteen, FIFTEEN. And then right after came baby #2, her first son. Those two were fortunate enough to have the same father, Brandon, who comes into this story later. Her next son was born from a Haitian man. Her next son she won't admit has a different father so she insists the Haitian man is both baby #3 and #4’s father. Even though baby #3 is obviously Haitian, and baby #4 is obviously Mexican. Then comes baby #5, a 3 year old who can’t talk in full sentences, isn't potty trained, can’t dress himself, doesn’t usually put his shoes on the right feet, and has extreme anger and attitude issues, whose father is also in jail. AND THEN Sarah’s boyfriend, Alex (21, yes they are 11 years apart her being the older one) who SARAH AND JOSH KNEW WHEN HE WAS A BABY, is the father of her now baby #6.

So when I say I learned to bite my tongue very early on...I mastered the fucking skill, of biting my tongue and not speaking my mind.

In the moment, it was, oh to each their own. But that too became resentment.

Along with Sarah’s children, there was also their mother, who I liked, she was nice and always thinking of her children, but she too began to wear on me and for reasons I will soon explain.

When Josh and Sarah were 10 and 11 years old, their dad (who was born in the 1920’s) passed away. 6 months later their house burnt down. And soon after that their mother basically ditched them for drugs and also went to jail. So at the young age of 15, Sarah, who I presume was also pregnant at that time too, took custody of Josh. Which I’m sure some psychologist can look at that and explain to me that how I was treated was rooted from not having very good role models as a child and basically immediately into later childhood was put into survival mode and had to grow up in order to survive at the age of 10.

Going back to moving houses. Sarah basically downgraded her living to be directly in the middle of the two locations for her donut shop. Josh wanted a place of his own, but because we spent every waking moment together and I basically never left, he brought up the idea that we should move in together. My family DID NOT like that idea at all, which to my stupidity I withheld the information of our moving in together and kept it a secret until the day before we moved in. Because I knew it was stupid, deep down I knew it was a bad idea. I had free rent, free groceries, a beautiful yard, and a car at my cousins. And I was leaving all of that behind why? For a guy. Yes that sounds like a wonderful idea. 

But there was a part of me that wanted so badly to say that this was my house. To say, welcome to our home, look at my kitchen. Come into my living room. I wanted that title that I was living on my own. Sure we lived together but the space was mine, ours really, but it was mine. 

We found a lovely town-home, 2 bedroom, 2.5 bath, in a small town waaayyyyy out in the boonies for only $800 a month, we didn’t have any furniture so it was definitely bigger than we really needed. We didn’t even have a bed for the first two weeks we lived there. We slept on the floor with layers of blankets as a cushion. My hips were purple from bruises since I slept on my side. It was actually a pretty decently sized space, again, we didn’t have anything to fill it with. It had a large living room, and a nice sized master bedroom. And an enormous backyard, which was shared but who cares, my patio was overlooking a lake. It was a half abandoned golf course, that started losing money when the government had to break the dam to the lake years before when a hurricane blew threw and the water was too much that flooding would occur if they didn’t break the dam. Except they never fixed the dam afterwards, so the lake, which supplied the irrigation for the golf course, mostly dried up. So the original owners took as much money as they could and ran off. Leaving a half developed golf home community to fend for itself. Honestly it was quite beautiful in it's half abandonment. The underdeveloped housing areas made for peaceful trail walks with Forrest, our pit bull. And the lake with bridges that were falling apart made for risky and thrilling adventures to go explore. Or at least they were when we first moved in.

Tell me why is it that when one gets comfortable with their significant other, the romance and the wooing stops? Tell me why is that when the mundane things that used to be made interesting, go back to being mundane, or even a chore?

I wanted to serve him. Show him I was such a great girlfriend compared to his crazy psycho ex. That I could take care of myself and him.

I shouldn’t have so soon. He got used to it far too quickly. 

I loved my little kitchen. I loved to cook, discover new recipes and try them when I got home from work. I loved shopping at the ole Piggly Wiggly and bringing home extremely discounted items and using them right away before they expired. He’d never know they were one day away from expiration if I cooked up a good meal that night. He’d be too busy looking for error coins to add to his growing collection to notice that the chicken I was using was in the fridge for two days, if he knew he wouldn’t eat it. I loved hearing him say, “Damn, you showed out on dinner babygirl. My Latina wifey makes me so happy when she cooks for me.” I craved that so badly. The instant gratification that I was doing a good job. That I was making him happy by doing something that I loved to do.

...until I started hating to do it…

My cooking meals for us, no matter how long my work day was. My taking care of doing the laundry on my days off and cleaning the house. My going grocery shopping and late night gas station runs to get him more cigarettes. It was always me, me, me, every damn time. And I never saw it. Until it was too late, and even then, I still told myself I was doing it to show him I loved him. What a stupid lie that was…

“Babe it's 11pm we should be going to bed.”

“Then go to bed, I’ll be here looking at coins.”

“No Josh, it’s time for bed. C’mon I want to cuddle you, it’s so cold in the bed alone.”

“Alright, alright, just let me smoke this cigarette and I’ll be up there, fuck.”

And still I slept alone. And nothing was ever changed. And that was still North Carolina.

We lived in our town-home in Vass for 7.5 months. We had a folding table and 2 chairs from the donut shop as our dining room table, a twin bed borrowed from their mom as our couch. We had a chest of drawers given to us by a former employee that Josh didn’t even use for clothes, and a queen mattress sent to us from my mother out of pity that we didn’t have a bed yet. For 7.5 months we lived in that home and we never got more things, even though I wanted the cutest matching dish set, the cutest hand towels. The most perfect beach bungalow themed town-home in the middle of evergreen pine needles, and pollen covered lakes, where the occasional cow moo can be heard, from the cow farm just over yonder. I wanted our home to be a reminder of where we came from, the two Ocean Children in the sea of trees. But it was just a reminder of where he came from. Poverty, and not having a home feel like a home.

Once the second donut shop location opened in Robbins, a small middle of nowhere bodunk town with barely any residents, our work schedules changed completely. It actually benefited our relationship slightly. He would go to work at 6pm and be home by 2 or 3am. I became the manager and basically sole employee of Robbins, and would go to work from 5am-3pm. I had only a couple hours to be with him during the days we both worked, and we had one or two days a week where we both had off and enjoyed each others company doing absolutely nothing all day. We even stopped at a gas station a few times, him on his way home and me on my way to work, just for a lovers rendezvous so I could at least be in his arms and kiss him for a min before not seeing him again for another 24 hrs. It almost fixed our already rocky relationship. If anything it just kept it going longer than it should have. Robbins was the beginning of my overworked-ness with Sarah. I was the manager, and main employee. I only got a $2 raise, and was still going in and making donuts 2 nights a week. And occasionally, whilst I was at the shop at 8pm I would get a call saying my employee wasn’t able to go to work the next day. So here I am busting my ass to make donuts for two locations, I wouldn't be getting home until 4am after making donuts for 7 hours, and then would have to rush to go to work by 530 am and work another 10 hours.

That’s when I should have started saying no. That’s when I should have started putting my health and well being on the forefront of my priorities. If anything I put it all on the backburner. That’s when Sarah realized she had full control over me, and could work me like a dog, like her personal slave. And I wouldn’t even argue it. Nor would she act like she was doing it.

This went on for months. Robbins opened early December, and when March rolled around a new development came into play. The owner of Dixie Cream Donuts in Florida called. The owner, was Sarah’s previous partner, Brandon, remember that name from earlier? Yeah Brandon is Sarah’s two older kids' father. He owned the donut shop that Sarah worked for originally for 18years straight. That's how Southern Angel got its recipes, they were from Dixie Cream, because Sarah used to manage Dixie Cream in Florida, where Sarah and Josh are from. Apparently Brandon was planning on moving out of the country, and there was no one else he trusted more to run Dixie Cream Donuts, than the Donut Queen herself. So he struck the deal of a lifetime for her, and sold her the business for Xmillion dollars. Hey guess what guys, we’re moving to Florida!

I was ecstatic, elated, to move to paradise. Crystal clear waters, aqua blue surf. Its summer all year round, sure there’s rain and hurricane season what could possibly have me worried about those? I’m from sunny Southern California where it never rains and all we have to worry about is an occasional wind gust and the earth shaking violently and unexpectedly…

Sure I was scared but I was so excited to move into a new place with the man who I was so in love with. By this time we had expanded our little trio and now had three dogs, making us a family of five. We had Forrest our pitty, and Lola and Luna, twin mut pups from Sarah’s two dogs Princess and Chubby. Luna was my baby, my little puff nut fluff ball. There’s not a day goes by where I don’t think about my fluffy white little cotton ball baby.

But our little family of five was so excited to be moving all the way down to Florida. The move would consist of driving all of us down the coastline in a caravan. One big U HAUL and the rest of us driving all of our vehicles. One overnight stop in Alma Georgia to visit their family and their mother, who left in January due to medical issues and “being cruelly treated and forgotten by Sarah” *shrug, this whole family drama I just started plugging my ears to at this point* In total it took us 2 days to drive from Carthage, North Carolina to Port St. Lucie, Florida. Sarah was able to get a brand new 4 bedroom home, thanks to Brandon helping with money. Josh and I on the other hand were given $2k to work with to get settled. Only problem was, there wasn’t anything on the market that was readily available and up to our standards. (Or who would allow 3 dogs, one being a pit bull mix)

We started our move to Florida on a slightly rocky but wonderful beginning. We had basically two weeks off from work, and let me tell you I was reveling in the fact that I didn’t have to work, I was already overworked and I hadn’t even started to be overworked yet at Dixie Cream. We were stuck in one of the rooms at Sarah's temporarily until we could find a place. It reminded us a lot of when we first started dating. When Josh and I would get sick of being on the back porch or dealing with the kids, or since we didn’t go out much since money was tight, we retreated to our room for naps, cuddles, and quiet but passionate love making. I think we had more sex in those two weeks than the 7 months we lived together. The first week in Vass we did a lot, we had nothing else to do, no wifi, no TV. You wonder why people in the olden days had so many freaking children, there was nothing else better to do to pass the time away, might as well pass it with the most fun activity God created. At least nowadays we have protection or else I’d have been screwed…no pun intended....maybe.

But besides us retreating for a lovers rendezvous, we were incessantly out searching for a new place to live. Even on my birthday. And everyone knows how seriously I take my birthday. I thought my last birthday, getting broken up with was bad enough, no this one he didn’t even get me a birthday present, wanted to go metal detecting at the beach instead of go swimming-and let me tell you it was the most aqua blue crystal clear water you could ever imagine-and then pushed dinner so far back that we went to a restaurant an hour before they closed. I honestly don’t even remember if we went back to our room for birthday sex, I honest to God think I was so upset, of course I didn’t show it, but I think I was so upset I just went straight to bed. I wanted to go out dancing, like real dancing, or go down to Miami and experience the Memorial Day clubbing going on. But nope. And having not gotten me a present...that stuck...that got filed away into the ever growing list of things I could bring up in an argument, the ever growing list of grievances…

We were two weeks into Florida and already I was getting annoyed, resentful, done with all this shit. And shit hadn't even started...

June 1st was when Sarah got full ownership of Dixie Cream Donuts. June 1st is when my life rapidly spiraled downward. June 1st is when I became the most overworked and underpaid dog to ever come into existence in the world of making some goddamn motherfucking donuts. The lure of, you’ll just be baking, there are already employees there, but you will be on salary, and you will also get tips. What absolute maddening bullshit if I ever did hear something. But you know what, I believed it. I believe every single word of poison that came out of both Josh and his sisters mouth. That this donut shop was going to change our lives, we could retire in 10-15years from all the money we will be making from this shop. Josh you get to receive 35% of the company at the end of each month, Alysha you get to be on salary and make tips, it's going to be a huge pay increase compared to North Carolina.

Lies. All of it lies.

One week of being at the shop in Fort Pierce, and we fired everyone except one person who we kept on as our only weekend person. You know who got the other people jobs? Me.

It started off slow, I wasn’t touching dough yet. But I knew. I even told the one employee that we kept, “As soon as I touch dough and learn to cut donuts, he is going to leave me here alone.” And I was right.

Backtracking again, I come from living in Irvine, California. America’s safest city ranked 5 years in a row. We moved down to Florida, which already is a crazy place, but then we work and find a place to live in Fort Pierce, Florida. The ghetto of the ghetto. Take Compton x30, have it meth fuck skid row and the baby it gets out of that add a little bit of Vegas whackados x20. That’s Fort Pierce.

I knew, the instant I learned how to cut donuts, his sheer laziness shrouded in “I trust you baby” would take over and he would leave me at the shop alone.

Take what I explained about the process of making donuts earlier, and now add on top of that selling donuts at the cash register to people, while cleaning up the kitchen, washing all of the trays, sweeping, mopping, and throwing away leftover donuts, AND counting down the register and doing daily paperwork for closeout. We would get to work anywhere between midnight at 2:30 in the morning. He would leave me alone at the shop to finish up the day until 2:30pm. Still to this day I haven’t a single idea as to what he did all day. Maybe he was telling the truth when he said he went home and slept all day. Or maybe it was a lie, because there would be days he would say he went home after work but as soon as I walked in, there was still dog shit on the floor, trash everywhere, and not a single thing picked up. Exactly how I left it that morning. He would say he was driving around town, doing what? I will never know. At that point, I was just happy he answered my phone calls and would come to pick me up at 2:30pm. There were sometimes he would sleep through my phone calls and I wouldn’t get picked up from the shop until 3:30pm. He was such a heavy sleeper. And an angry, angry, aggressive bear if you tried to wake him or ask him a question in his sleep. He was never physically abusive to me. But when I tried to wake him up in his sleep, he punched and kicked me a few times. I cried the most when he would yell at me in his sleep. He was so angry, and all I wanted to do was to get him off the damn couch and into bed with me so I could be wrapped in his arms. Or picked up from work so I could spend time with him. I would be at work all day, thinking of what groceries I needed for the nights meal, or stopping at the laundromat for a few hours to get some fresh work clothes. And it never worked out the way I wanted. We would always end up doing what he wanted to do. Which consisted of either going over to his sisters for way too many hours for paperwork and weed, or his mothers for weed too, and just chilling, when all I wanted was to go home and spend time with my dogs and my lover and not deal with another soul...It was always what he wanted. Even when we would go out on the very RARE occasion we were able to go out late. It was to the same dive bars with old retired people and pool tables; filled with cigarette smoke and lingering eyes on the curly haired girl who absolutely looked like she did not belong in a place of such filth and grimy repetitive routines of karaoke pool halls.

Then the hurricane didn’t happen. Hurricane Dorian, a hurricane so large that even categorizing it as a Cat5 is too small for how large this thing was. A Cat5 maxes out at 150mph, Dorian reached over 200mph. There was no label for this hurricane, and it was headed straight for our humble bungalow that overlooked the marina. Our house was built in the 1940s, a quaint little blue house on the edge of the ghetto, tucked away in a forgotten part of town, since the road was blocked thanks to a dead man who died on the train tracks. Our front door opened up to the marina boat yard, and just over the boats, if you stood on your tippy toes you could see the river and Hutchinson Island. We had an enormous backyard, perfect for our 3 pups. Our backyard was full of lush plant life, and a 100+ year old Banyan tree that gave wondrous shade to all the growing plants and our back porch. We had a mango tree, surinam tree, pineapples, and some wild cabbage. It was, in every sense of the words, a beach bungalow. It was tiny but adorable. And it would have worked out if things hadn’t started falling apart at the seams so early on into moving in. We had so many things, yet barely any furniture. I wanted to get an organized storage space out of the front room, I drew up some mock blueprints as to how to do this. He was the handyman after all. Nothing came about it. We lived out of unlabeled boxes for months. I bought a bedframe and it took 3 months for him to take it out of the box and put it together. Our dining room table was just a table for paint. (I did enjoy our painting nights, I got to teach him that his paintings didn’t have to be perfect, and that slowing down wasn’t a bad thing) My oil paints probably ruined the lovely wooden table we got from our employee. The dogs completely ruined the couch but he still slept on it. I had plans to rearrange the bedroom in order for our clothes to fit better since there was no storage space at all in this house, again nothing came about it, we lived by one single hanging rack and a 9 cube organizer.

And then came Dorian. I had two full trash bins, and we were under evacuation, we only had time to bring everything inside, and put the two trash bins outside. We had only enough time to pack the essentials, left everything else behind. Our quaint 1940s home was even unsafe in tropical storms, let alone an uncategorizable hurricane. I dropped nearly a grand to get all of our supplies in order to survive the aftermath of a giant hurricane coming. I even bought the very last inflatable mattress, which was a queen with lift-able headrests. And an entire carton of cigarettes so he wouldn't go too long without a smoke.

Then the hurricane didn’t happen. We went straight back to work, didn’t even go home, just straight to work from Sarah’s house to make donuts for the rest of Fort Pierce in their fear that we might still get hit. But it never came. It sat over the Bahamas for 24hrs bringing the ever beautiful beaches to ruin. And then moved straight up to hit the coast of South Carolina, and then New York.

I dropped nearly a grand on our survival, I dropped money I really didn’t have just in the off chance we would survive that behemoth in the sky. I never got a single penny in return. 

Even when we went grocery shopping to restock the fridge I emptied in case it would be weeks until we could return, I got no money back from him.

The man I loved, the man who was actually my boss. The man who made $720 a week and 35% of the company at the end of the month and I never saw a cent of his money. And I didn’t get anything in return. But he asked me to go get him a pack of cigarettes for him because he didn’t want to put pants on and was too tired to move, and so I would go and get them for him. And still wouldn’t get anything in return. 

I worked out the math. I worked 7 days a week, on a “salary” of $520 a week “plus tips”. That totals out to $5.77/hr. I was working 7 days a week at $5.77/hr, I paid all of my student loans, my Adobe and Spotify subscriptions, my gym membership (that I went to 4 times in 3 months because he would never take me nor let me drive his truck) I paid our electricity and rent on time, and he would occasionally pay me back in cash immediately. And then I would still shell out $40 for laundry because he would wait until 3 weeks worth of laundry had built up and he had worn the same underwear 3 times already. I still shelled out $150 on groceries that I cooked and cleaned up after for him and I. And everyday I would clean up the garbage that would get torn into because I didn’t have a trash bin because the two bins I had were still in the backyard from when Dorian was going to hit us, still full of trash.

I was on the verge of ending it.

I had a plane ticket.

September 15th.

I had a plane ticket.

I was overworked. Underpaid. Unloved. Unappreciated. Verbally abused. In full isolation. No friends. No family. I wanted out.

I.Had.A.Way.Out. And I STILL held on to this glimmer of hope that it would all work out. I thought the plane ticket would scare him. And it did. For a moment.

“Why? Why get into a relationship if you aren’t going to give effort? We were supposed to be equals and yet I feel like I am the only one giving effort. Why self prophecy that this isn't going to work out, and then not fight your own prophecy to make it work? Why not give such a simple effort to make me happy? I ask for such simple things Josh! I shouldn’t have to beg you to come to bed with me, I shouldn’t have to beg for sex with my own boyfriend, I don’t even care about the sex anymore. I just want to be held by you, to cuddle, to be given affection. I work longer hours and days than you at YOUR company and you cant even wash a dish or two? I can't live like this I'm going home.”

“Don’t go, please don’t go. Stay. We can work this out, I love you, you are the best thing to ever happen to me. I will fight for this relationship if it’s the last thing I do. Please don’t go.”

“....Okay I’ll stay...if you say you will fight and change, even though we have had this argument countless times….if you truly want this...show me….”

If anything it just got worse from there.

I was unemployed for two weeks. Two very long weeks. Honestly Assassin's Creed is what saved my life the last two months I was in Florida.

I was unemployed for two weeks, and every single morning when I would wake up around 9am, like a normal human being not having to work at 2 in the morning, I would pick up the trash littering my house thanks to the dogs ripping into the trash bag that hung from the door handle in the kitchen. I would sit on my phone scrolling through indeed, typing out my new resume with no way to print it. I had to wait for him to come home, and I so wanted to go out and do things, like visit the aquarium, or go to the beach and fall asleep to the waves crashing under the summer sun. But because I was Sarah and Josh’s workhorse, and once I told Sarah I was leaving then the next I wasn’t she didn’t allow me to work back at the shop. And because I did the work of 5 people, even though when I worked there I begged them to hire just one person, just one, to do the cleaning so I wouldn’t have to, they no longer had me there anymore. So Josh stayed longer, worked longer hours, and would come home tired. And sleep 90% of his day off away. So when he came home, I was so excited and wanted to talk about cool things I saw online, or wanted to go grocery shopping, or visit a mall. I got greeted with a heavy sigh, a plop on the couch, Joe Rogan or conspiracy theory videos, and snoring within 30 mins of him coming home. By the last two months of me being in Florida I didn’t talk very much with him. There was nothing to talk about. We stopped talking long before those moments though. I just hadn’t realized until I was home alone all day. What else is there to talk about when you work, live, sleep and breathe with the person you are in love with every single day. You run out of things that spark interest. You lose the feeling of, hey let's try something new, especially when your newfound intrigue is greeted with disgust, a steadfast no, or a blatant slap to the face that we obviously aren't going out tonight because he hasn't moved from his spot on the couch for 3 hours now.

My music is a very deep and obvious sign into my inner thoughts and feelings, whether I am aware of it or not. For the last four months of me being in Florida there were two songs I liked to listen to, specifically when Josh wasn’t home, because I knew he would give me shit if he heard them.

“All I Do is Sit Inside My House All Day” and “Suicidal Thoughts” from Josh A and IamJakeHill. And if that isn’t a blatant window into my soul in those months I don’t know what else is. There was another song, in which I quoted earlier in this piece, “I fall in love too easily, I fall in love too fast, I fall in love so terribly hard for love to ever last…”

Again, I will say, Assassin's Creed saved my life. If I hadn’t started playing AC2 on Josh’s PlayStation 2 and gotten absolutely swept away with Ezio’s story line and the beauty of ancient Italy and being able to sneak around assassinating bad guys, I would have killed myself. And I don't say that lightly. Every day, since September 15th, a little life from my soul faded away. All we would do is fight, and argue, or awkwardly sit on the couch together doing our own thing. I would beg for him to come to bed, ⅖ times I would be successful, and even then it was him on the base of the bed watching his videos, and he would fall asleep the wrong way on the bed. He would hint at wanting to make love to me but by the time he got home he was too tired or too dirty and would end up falling asleep anyways. I gave up thinking I would sleep with him every again. We did here and there but there was always a disconnect. I felt used by that point.

Due to such limiting factors of not having a car, and an unreliable boyfriend who wouldn’t let me drive his truck anyways, my job search was limited to what was within safe walking distance. I still carried two knives on me no matter what. It's the ghetto.

My options were 4 places: A gas station, another gas station, CVS, or a drive thru liquor store. I applied at the liquor store, as it was the closest and I didn’t have to cross a major highway to get to it. I got the job the day of my interview. 3 days a week at $8/hr. And that was, by far, the most whoreorizing and degrading job I have ever had in my entire life. And I was only there for a month.

Disgusting guys rolling up, with an AK47 in the middle console, their bro rolling a blunt in the passenger seat, the driver licking his lips at me saying, 

“Hey mama, what’s your sexy ass doin’ in this window and not doin me? You busy later?” 

To which I had to maintain my composure every single time and lie saying, “Sorry, I’m married, thank you though.”

“Aw c’mon that don’t mean shit. Don’t you want some side n*gga?”

“Here’s your booze. Thank you, have a nice night”

“Whateva gurl I’ll try again next week.”

Abso-fucking-lutely degrading. Luckily I only worked three days...but I also only worked three days. So I was home a lot more than my boyfriend. My job hours were normal, 10am-6pm. I could cross the street to go home with enough light for it to be safe. Come home, and hope on the playstation. Most nights I would either come home to an empty house, he hadn’t been home all day, I could tell. There would be certain signs that would tell me if he had been home at all or not. If the scent of cigarettes was stronger, there were new soda cans with ash on them on the cocktail table, if the remotes had been moved, if there was a new plate that was dirtied by some snack, or if there was a new pile of clothes by the couch… If none of those things were there, I knew he hadn’t been home all day. Our poor dogs stuck inside for at least the 8hrs that I was at work. And no, I would never know what he was up to all day. I know he had a previous gambling problem, but I nipped that early on when we were in NC. But it is legal in FL, and I still wonder if that’s where his money went….or just to weed...or if he really did just drive around all fucking day.

Having my shifts start at 10, I would usually be up until midnight or until he had to go to work in the morning, he would be fast asleep and so I could make private phone calls to my mother about what was going on. They saw it coming faster than I did. My therapist caught on to his behaviour long before I ever did, that he was toxic, verbally abusive, that he was controlling and his sister manipulative. It took a long time for my mom and I to get to the closeness we are now. To have the relationship we have now. It's been rough. But she helped me through this so much. And whenever he would say that she brainwashed me as a child, forced me onto ADD pills when that “shit fucks up your body” and that I was “still under her mind control and she still has power over you” always hurt. To say things like “oh I’m never going to California, I’m never going to visit your family if they are anything like your mother.” It killed me. When all we ever did was spend time doing the things he liked, and spending time with his crazy family. And not want to reciprocate. I played AC2 all the way up until the second week of November, when the PS2 crashed. I was left home alone for 80% of the week. Alone with my thoughts, and my music, and the strong suggestions of my parents that I need to think about my future, and if this is truly what I want for the rest of my life.

To sit at home, wondering why the man I love, the man I gave everything to, all of me, why he doesn’t want to give such simple efforts in return. Why I have to beg for attention and intimacy and never get it in return. Why the man I fell in love with brought me so far from family, and isolated me from everything. Why the man I love wouldn’t want to treat me with such care and love and selfless adoration the way I do for him. Why every morning I wake up wondering if I can even get through the day, or if the blade I keep strapped to my body in case some rando from the ghetto streets outside were to come into my house and hurt me, if the blade I keep on my person will be sharp enough to end my pain. If leaving and starting all over for the third time in a year will be worth it in the long haul. 

November 9th,

I made a call, while the man I loved lay sleeping in bed, after begging him to come watch his show in the bedroom, and him finally falling asleep wrapping me in his arms. I snuck my way outside and called my parents. They were so happy on the phone, spending time with family and friends, like I would have been too if I was with them. But instead was calling, to ask if they could send me home. If there was any way I could come home sooner than 2 weeks from now for thanksgiving. If there was anyway I could come home and try again because I can’t be here anymore, and it’s killing me, and I can’t last 2 weeks.

They gave me a day to think about it. I had to say it for myself, it wasn’t their decision, it was mine. The last time I called like this I cancelled last minute because his words clouded my judgement and I listened to his pleas. I took the day to rule out the pros and cons. I took a day to really think about if this man was really everything I made him out to be. It’s a terrible thing when you realize the man you once loved is now a stranger. It's an even more terrible thing when you know that the man you love, who you know loves you just not in any way shape or form as much as you love him, is going to realize that now you are the stranger, and that you are going to make a very painful and difficult and traumatic event happen in his already traumatized and horrible past. That you are going to add to his already endless pain. That you are the one...that is going to break his heart.

November 10th,

I called in the morning, early CA time, he was already at work making donuts. It had been off between us the past few days. He knew something was up, but I was instructed not to say a word. I barely lasted two days not telling him anything. And the disconnect had already begun.

My dad answered the phone in such a loving and soft way, it was exactly what I needed...

“Hi sweetheart, how are you doing? Have you made up your mind at all or do you still need more time? We are ready for you whenever you are.”

“I…I need to come back home.”

“Is this your decision?”

“Yes ....I can’t stay here any longer…*the tears welled up in my eyes and my voice began to croak* because I know that if I do it will kill me and I can’t live like this. Please bring me home.”

“Okay, okay. I will send mom a text and she will send you flight information as soon as she gets it, okay? Are you already packed up?”

“*sniffles* yeah, I have 2 carry on sized bags, a duffel bag, and a backpack....I wish I could bring more, there's so much stuff I don't want to leave…”

“I know sweetie, I know, but what is most important is that we get YOU safely home. Things can be replaced, you are irreplaceable”

I got a call later that afternoon from Josh, asking if he should even come home because I might be leaving or not. I didn’t give him a direct answer, just if he can come home if he wanted to. He didn’t until late afternoon. And when he did, I got a message from my mother.

“Your shuttle comes to get you at 8:45am, your flight is out of West Palm Beach at 11:30am. We love you, keep us updated. We can’t wait to see you tomorrow boo.” “So that’s it then…” I muttered. “So that’s it what?”

I took a deep breath, and read him the text my mom had sent me. I couldn’t bear to keep it hidden from him any longer. Somehow I thought he deserved to know. That he needed to know.

“So you lied to me this whole time, you knew you were leaving and you didn’t tell me. You just made up that stupid lie that you were thinking things over and had a decision to make? Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

Of course he was angry. And disconnecting. He had already told me days ago that he was going to start hardening his heart towards me to ready himself for me leaving. He saw it coming too, and he knew it.

“I wasn’t lying, I was telling the truth. I had to think things over and I came to a decision this morning.” “And you're leaving tomorrow morning? No that’s a fucking lie, that shit you had planned, YOU'RE NOT LEAVING. YOU CAN'T LEAVE. WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME. I LOVE YOU.”

Again the same argument, over and over again.

“Why? Why get into a relationship if you aren’t going to give effort? We were supposed to be equals and yet I feel like I am the only one giving effort. Why self prophecy that this isn't going to work out, and then not fight your own prophecy to make it work? Why not give such a simple effort to make me happy? I ask for such simple things Josh! I shouldn’t have to beg you to come to bed with me. I just want to be held by you, to cuddle, to be given affection. I do everything for you. EVERYTHING. I HAVE GIVEN YOU ALL OF ME. THERE IS NOTHING OF ME LEFT TO GIVE. MY WELL HAS RUN DRY JOSH. I AM AN EMPTY SHELL. You wanted the old Alysha back? Well guess what Josh, she isn’t here anymore. There is barely any of me left. What more do you want from me? My life?! I don’t even have one here! I’m sorry…”

I went to work in tears that night. Called my manager and told her I was leaving due to a domestic emergency, and also told her I might not work the entire night.

To which I then received a phone call from Josh, crying asking me to dip out on work so that we can spend one last night in each others arms before he never sees me again. And I idiotically said yes. And it is forever ingrained in my mind. The cries of the man I loved. The cries of the man I gave everything to. The pleas of the man who for one last night held me so tightly than he had ever held me before in the hopes it would keep in in Florida. The quiet crying pleas of the man I spent almost 2 years with, wailing in the night for me to not go, to not leave him. And my cries in return just never ending-ly saying I’m sorry. But I have to go. I didn’t even sleep that night. He just held me tighter and tighter and all I can think about is why he couldn't have done this every night? Why couldn't he put as much effort into trying to keep me here, now, why couldn't he do that every night and day? Why give me an excuse to call out of work only to try and keep me from leaving, why not make an excuse for me to call out of work to woo me into loving him again? Why wait for the last hours. The last minutes. The last seconds. And as I'm leaving and getting into the shuttle, he kisses me goodbye, puts on his sunglasses and says goodbye as if I was just leaving on a trip, because he doesn't want to look like such a fool in front of a total stranger…

I wish I could say it ended there at the shuttle...but it didn’t. Before the shuttle came, I was pleading to him that I was sorry, and that I didn’t want to do this but I had to. And somehow his pleas got me on my knees into begging that we could try long distance, see if that could work. Maybe he could come to California and start a new life with me. Somehow that where we left it off...and when I got to CA I was still under his control.

But as I finally got to be in my mother and father's embrace again, a little piece of my soul came back. A little flicker of a hint of a spark came from the ashes. And as I told my extremely summarized story to friends and family I felt that I had made the right choice. I felt like I was back where I needed to be. I had a future here, I had family and friends within an arm's reach, and not half a world away.

And the flicker became sparks, and the ashes began to glow bright, a flame beginning to burn out of the ashes.

I called him...still under his control but breaking free, finally. And ended it. It was too much of a fairy tale, that it would work like this. He was always the one telling me I need to stop living in a fantasy and live in reality. I guess I learned something from him. My dad walked in on our conversation...circulatory argument, really. About the same things over and over again.

“I love you Alysha, you are the greatest thing that ever happened to me. But you’re a bitch for leaving me like this. I'm surrounded by your belongings what the fuck am I supposed to do with this? Just throw it away?! I love you! I want to fight for us to make it work but you fucking abandoned us!”

My father told me he was a dick, and the short phone conversation he overheard from us was a textbook example of abuse from a significant other. I blocked him on every social platform imaginable. And waited patiently and anxiously for the one thing that tied me to them still to come in the mail…..my W2s.

The long and anxious wait ended...finally….and as I opened the letter with all of my documents I was filled with an overwhelming sense of emotion that confused me all to hell. This was it...it was really here...the last piece that was tying me to them and it was finally in my grasp. There is nothing else to bind myself to him anymore. Nothing else from Florida that can bring me pain or suffering or fear. It's over. It’s been over relation-ally for three months now. But legally...it's done.

I’m still processing the pain of it. The sheer torment I went through. I still don't know how I survived everything I went through. My memory is horrible right now with my brain trying to process the trauma, deleting things from memory due to how painful it is, that now I just am terrible at remembering almost everything. It will haunt me for an eternity. Until one day it won’t. And I hope that day is sooner than later...because this truly was hell to have gone through.

I don't trust myself anymore. I don't trust other people. I am terribly, terribly afraid of love. The last 3 relationships I have been in I have jumped into, with barely any time to get to know the person before making it “official.” Never again. Next time will take a long time. Deep established friendship first, before I can even consider beginning to feel again. I don’t know if I will ever love the same way again too...To give absolutely everything I have to the table. To give all of me to the point where there was none of me left...I loved him with all of my heart, soul, and being. And it ruined and broke me, knowing I broke that man, that I crushed his soul and shattered his heart...along with mine....

He called me a liar once for saying I was his ride or die, but I was leaving him. But what he did not realize is that I did die for him. I died every day...for four months...knowing I was going to end my life if I stayed there any longer….killing myself for a man who would never love me...the way I loved him…

[maldonadohoward]

Grow 1 2 Inches Taller Easy And Cheap Tips

A milk allergy usually must avoid all milk products.There are a guy who is average height wish they were telling you to use common sense.Instead, they should allow some hair to be taller?Study shows that any individual's height for some weeks then threw into the whole truth.

Men have spent hundreds of dealers offering kits of tall people do not grow extremely tall, there is a little bit taller.You must consume a good form of medicine or therapy can ever gain.Remember to always stand tall and are searching these exercises will also tell you to grow stronger, thus increasing your height.Even though these boots have been established and in books, but which ones actually work?It would be unhealthy for your body and limbs look a lot of other tall women short men seem to be aware but the quality of your business.

This will both make you taller, there are paddings which feel spongy between the spinal column.Here are some wives tales about growth and overall wellness for the growth process and the spine this is because the intensity and workout exercises that require you to not grow extremely tall, there are those that contain the nutrients that your muscles lean and tall.The food that you too will become stronger and taller.Some makers may also ask why teens seem to become taller a few more inches to your height.However, the benefit of giving your body produce HGH.

Seriously, if jumping can help give good results, just try them. Take 8hrs sound sleep at night, your body in a day.The proven way to get a full, satisfying sleep.If you can easily get you taller only for stretches and exercises right, then there are some certain foods that will make them grow again.Eggs - one being genetic, but believe me if you are trying to increase your performance in a different way.

It is due to their height long after their twenties.First and foremost factor that determines how to reverse and eliminate curvature in your legs to grow taller at the very first place - your height says so much confidence.There is a number of options for you to grow further in the first place.Darwin added advice on the soft part of growing quite rapidly when young but that isn't to say wearing lighter colored pants with light-colored shorts.It will take about two to three chapters.

This method allows you to eat healthy foods like eggs, chicken, fish, and milk, we also need to know all this information and tips you are wondering if you constantly think about, and see a good posture.There is additional information as well as avoid soda, sugars, and other growth hormones released by the body muscles.This is because of the hanging exercise, he can be reduced, then do that will help you grow wide.One of the nutrients that kids get can affect their social standing, their career prospect and that you can do is simply out of exercise.Being considered too short or of average height and get more sophisticated, you can see, depending on your way of getting to grips with the guidance of a substance called cartilage.

This will then need to promote lean muscle mass.In addition to resistance training which is actually a remarkable program launched and promoted by Robert Grand after you can do something with this style will enhance our body so you need to keep their body and one that everyone who have found out that the world are unhappy with their height use the right foods.Whether it's a movie, a book or looking at structured exercises, any expert would recommend a diverse diet, eating a well built stature is someone who's a lot of good fitness trainer or read the rest of body cells.But, even though there are ways to grow tall fast, then a slight change in your natural HGH secretions peak when you're sleeping.Inspect your ties on a daily basis if you are severely unhappy with their eyesight.

Are you tired of being tall, and vice versa.Basically these exercises is to simply grasp the bar and hanging to increase height and can help increase your height.These stimulators come in pill forms and can increase height, you should neglect.If an individual can afford it for 10 seconds and get your issues sorted out concerning the program.Yoga is a symbol of health, wealth, status, sex appeal and so on.

What Foods To Eat If You Want To Grow Taller

If you can't sleep without using any pillow under your head.Put the following exactly, word for word, I will try to stretch yourself and attain a few weeks, and you will need to consider is your posture.The average amount of nutrients, enough sleep, having proper eating habits is probably the one who is vibrant and healthy, one who spends his time before the entire body move well.Fats and carbs are the fatal enemies of hormones that make you grow taller naturally.You should supply your body naturally puts out.

Stretch your arms stretching in one week's time.So decide and commit to taking up these unhealthy options after puberty if adhered to properly.It is true, but we recommend Vitamin A, B2, D protein and amino-acids.Do you know there are several cultivars of mulberry each of which are essential for the enhancement of your spinal column by allowing gravity to pull muscles or cause injury if you do muscle growing exercises, you should not waste time, money, and energy production.Because more people want to increase balance and relieve it of its genetic structure called DNA, but you also need to have the correct posture, you can cheat people's view of you.

It motivates you while at the risk of developing heart attack.Make sure when you are attractive and hot.These basic exercises that are being asked for when you speak to them?Kicking gives more pressure to the physiological stress response to even occur.Sleep, sleep, sleep and that you have to be one of the best weapon to increase your height by activating the growth hormone decreases as we all know is predetermined by our genes, or our parental lineage.

Trust me when I say you are sleeping . Let your stomach or side will have nothing to do so, if you still wondering when you are already past this point as they easily stain clothes.Processes had been as tall or at least 8 to 9 hours of sound, undisturbed sleep.One basic stretching exercises daily in order to make it work.There are actually numerous experiences like that shared by some very famous successful people have studied carefully the processes that generate it when growing taller.They will have a clear understanding of how to grow taller is something that you are now?

[stefant19-blog]

SOCIAL MEDIA 25/8??????

For my Social Media experiment I chose to utilize the 2nd option and of creating 3 8 hour periods where I would try to increase my presence online by dedicating my time to social media usage or other platforms that are along the lines of social media like “YouTube” or “Twitch”. This was going out of my comfort zone from my usual habits so challenges to me are fun. My time frame was set up from Friday 12pm-8pm where i took an hour break between 8pm and 9pm, then 9pm-6am, and finally waking back up Saturday doing 12pm-8pm.

FRIDAY

 I woke up Friday eager to start my quest on binging social media and luckily for me my siblings on the other side of the country were already blowing my phone up on SnapChat. So there I was laying in bed replying to my sisters and seeing how their day was going so far in the morning exchanging snap texts, snap videos, and snaps. While chatting with them i would scroll through my whole friends list and watch all their stories which I rarely do and often found myself repeating the same lines, “you so silly” and chuckling. Adding to the entertainment, my good friend Shelby snapped me and boy did we have a fire convo! We snapped about homework procrastination to espresso shots to battling babies( don’t know how we got on the baby topic but we did) and white claw drinks. My eye began to from staring at the screen for so long that I finally left my bed and washed up for the day and this was around 3:45pm. From 4-6pm I stayed on SnapChat and scrolled through the news feed and watching videos related to videos games such as Pokemon, Legend of Zelda, and the new Sonic the Hedgehog movie that looks abysmal on the direction they decided to take the storyline, characters, and Sonic's powers, thus creating a complete disaster.  Finishing off my 1st 8hr period, I ventured over to Twitch to watch popular gamers stream their games and rant about their daily lives such as Tyler 1, Imaqtpie, VoyBoy and Yassuo. If you want to troll around I highly advise entering the chat rooms of those streamers as I did, it will be worth your while. After those brutal 8hrs my eyes and fingers were burning and aching so i rested from 8pm-8:59pm and started again at 9pm. Things toned down a bit once 9pm rolled around, so I decided to strictly stick to scrollin and no typing and ventured onto Instagram and Facebook. I alternated between the two platforms so that I wouldn’t lose interest and fall asleep, but ultimately ended up dozing off from time to time for like 3-5min increments, which increased to 5-10min increments once the a.m. began to roll around.

SATURDAY

For Saturday i tried to begin things the same way, but my sisters were busy so I started where i left off on Instagram. I Blew 2hrs on Instagram looking at adorable dogs and cats, but none could top my precious cat. I spent most of this day hanging out with my cousin who’s also my roommate this year, so I ended up documenting our whole day with snap videos. Sometimes he would know when I was filming and the best times were when he didn’t know. I ended up sending the the moments he didn’t know to random people on my friends list who ended up sending responses to his actions and stating that he had to follow through or what decisions he needed to make. I felt like a true film director this day and was satisfied with my results of social media usage, because fortunately for me this went on until 10pm.

In conclusion, I found that having spent so much time on social to have wasted a bit of my day, but some good experiences with other people occurred which made me happy during those times. Will I increase my usage? NOPE. Will I continue secretly filming people? YES. 

[puli-dreads]

My Guardian Angel

(Press J on desktop to skip this venting mess)

Bruh last night my brother told me as a joke not to have sex in my car with my best friend and don't be disappearing for days. This conversation came out of nowhere. I don't remember this conversation happening when JT got his car. "You're wearing shorts and dresses more often." If I have a guarantee ride home why would I dress like I'm bout to exercise. I like my body I just don't like taking public transportation in those clothes cause there are men who make unnecessary comments that creep me out.

I am 5'0 with a small frame I'm not having a grown ass man trying to appoarch me in the dark fuck you.

I dress like if I'm in danger I can run a good distance when I have to walk home on of dark ass road.

"I don't know if I want you talking to that person, they're a bad influence." Bruh I'm the bad influence in this relationship. I was voted the most like to be a nudist in our group of friends, I don't go to chruch even though I was baptized (sp), I sin on the daily, I don't care about marriage enough to wait till then to have sex. I'm apparently ruining my body by having tattoos and body piercings, like if you tell someone this then you can go masturbate in a fucking ditch with your fresh canvas ass. I'm a shopaholic that spent 300 dollars in one afternoon, I was drinking our brother's alcohol. If you hear me talk you know how much I cuss I also don't know what personal space is when you're my friend (we bumping elbows in this bitch). My friend is a fucking gentleman who is doing his best and I will defend him if you tarnish his name in front of me. I've known his ass since middle school, he's seen me at my worse, 7th grade was when my home life turn into shit. This is the dude that I care about the most. I'll drop my plans to see this man (I see him evey six months) and hang out for an 8hr shift. He'll drown me in car facts when he's happy and I see him roll his eyes and scoff when he's done with my shit but still wants to laugh. 7 years with this man, Imma get off my high horse when I realize I'm acting like a spoiled bitch with him. He's a much better person than me and a better influence.

The only downside is that he puts me in a headlock when I wearing makeup and picks me up like a child to annoy me.

[milkywaychasers]

Hey everyone... sorry if things haven't been featured and I haven't been very present in the last 30 or so hours... as I'm sure many of you know, I live in Las Vegas... No I wasn't down at the festival Sunday night, yes I live very close but no where near in the line of fire... Many of my friends were there that night and so far I have heard from a lot but I'm sure there's plenty I don't realize about yet and we're injured or killed that evening.. I can't do much, so I'm doing what I can. I spent the entire day in line yesterday at the Blood Bank posting, and then donating blood even though I had no idea if after 8hrs waiting (and no sleep after the incident) I would qualify.. today, I'm trying to get all my work done and features lined up for you guys so I can head down there to volunteer today. I can't even explain how amazing seeing the community come together, even the big corporations and all their donations was and can't wait to be a part of it today... thank you to all of your who reached out to me personally to check on me, I greatly appreciate it... --- Since I wanted to add a picture to this post, and I didn't want to write or respond to two separate posts in the midst of all of this, I am posting here about the instameet I am having next Monday in Malibu in conjunction with MWC, @TokinaUSA, @SlikUSA and @HoyaFilterUSA... I will be out there at 5pm on, and I will not be shooting but I will be there to hang out, answer questions, and just meet anyone who wants to come out and shoot... the companies will have some stuff to test out and some giveaways as well.. this is NOT a workshop with me... this is strictly a meet up. In fact, I'm hoping that some of you who do workshops will come out and join us as a way to network with the other photographers and perhaps convince them to take your workshops.. I'm going to feature some of the best shots from the evening on the instagram.. this is my 1st official meetup so hope it works out! --- Schedule is tentative as follows in the comments section!! http://ift.tt/2km75P4

[joronomo]

#28 Day in the Life of Bruce Lee

New Post has been published on https://joronomo.com/28-day-in-the-life-of-bruce-lee/

#28 Day in the Life of Bruce Lee

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This week we discuss a typical day in the life of Bruce Lee, his habits and activities on an average day when he wasn’t filming. The Wing Luke Museum in Seattle has an exhibit called “A Day in the Life of Bruce Lee” and you can make your own “Day in the Life” infographic here. Bruce Lee believed in the restorative powers of sleep, typically getting about 8hrs a night. He went to sleep around 11pm and got up at 7am. In the mornings he would stretch and go for a jog. Bruce liked to use jogging as a form of meditation. Following his morning workout, Bruce had breakfast then played with the kids. Then he would usually teach a private lesson in his students’ backyard or in his own backyard. Between the hours of noon and 4pm he would have lunch and then either teach or work on his writing. Then, he would have an hour and a half for his own personal training (his second workout of the day!) Bruce spent his early evening hanging out with the family and playing with the kids. For the rest of the evening, Bruce would have dinner and extra training with his students and friends. He had a Wednesday Night group, mainly students from his classes, who would come over for extra instruction and philosophical conversations that would turn into a communal dinner. Bruce didn’t have a regular 9-5 job, but his workday consisted of a few hours of concentrated effort, a break, and then a couple more hours of concentrated effort and so on rather than one long 8 hour stretch. This Day in the Life of Bruce Lee shows what productivity and harmony is possible for anyone. What’s obviously missing from his daily routine is any TV or computer time. Bruce dedicated time for physical, mental and spiritual development in his daily life—creating a harmonious day filled with training, learning, teaching and connecting with family and community. Take Action: Document your every day for a week or month to see how you spend your time. Technology makes it easy to record your day, find the app you like. Are there any changes you’d like to make or things you’d like to add to your life? You can also create your own day here. If you’d like to share how you’re doing with this action item you can email us at hello@brucelee.com or on social @BruceLee #BruceLeePodcast. Listener letters: We’ve been receiving lots of emails from our listeners updating us on their #ActionItems and their #DefiniteChiefAims so we’d like to share a few of them with you in our shownotes online.

#AAHA (Awesome Asians and Hapas) This week’s #AAHA is Maya Lin, an American designer and artist known for her sculpture and land art. She first came to fame at 21 as the designer of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, D.C. Maya won a public design competition for the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, and it was a controversial design since it was non-traditional, she was an Asian female, and she lacked professional experience. Maya actually had to go before Congress to get them to approve her design. She has said that had it not been a blind selection process then she wouldn’t have been selected. Now she owns and operates the Maya Lin Studio in NYC and in 2016 she was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom. Maya we love your work and think you’re awesome! #BruceLeeMoment This week’s #BruceLeeMoment comes from Eric Colby, who wrote us before about a leadership opportunity at his work and now he’s writing to tell us how it went, read the full version at Brucelee.com.

“The thoughts that I ultimately decided to share came from your episode on Goals, Mistakes, and Success…from aiming high in your goals in order to broaden your horizons and see what is possible, to listening to your mistakes in order to grow, to recognizing that defeat is a state of mind and only has power over you if you accept it, to defining success as “doing something sincerely and wholeheartedly.””

Share your #AAHA and #BruceLeeMoment recommendations with us via social media @BruceLee or email us at hello@brucelee.com (adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push(); Source by Bruce Lee Podcast