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Life On The Rocinante' (After Dark!)


Cynder

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Can I ask Cynder, I hope you don’t mind - have you always wrote? Not just on your journal?

 

And also, what is your book about? And how did you get started writing it? And how long do you think it will take to complete? How do you sit down with clarity and motivation and work on it?

 

x

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Lately I've been reflecting a lot on my first serious relationship.  I've written here before about this guy.  He was the guy who was the grandson of a preacher.  Him and his entire family were really straight edge.  Like, to extremes.  They thought that anyone who ever consumed a drop of alcohol in their life was an alcoholic.  It was the same thing with drugs.  Anyone who had ever tried a drug ever that wasn't prescribed to them by a doctor was a drug addict. 

But that isn't what I want to focus on for this post.  I keep thinking back to when I was dating him and all his dysfunction conflicted with all my dysfunction at home.  I know that's probably hard to understand. 

Well, first of all, some people with problems mirror other people.  And my ex, I will call him S, was a big mirrorer.  He had no identity or sense of self of his own, so he just copied me all the time. 

Well, when I was a junior in high school my step uncle got saved and became super religious, so he gave me a bunch of his CDs.  They were mostly classic rock CDs.  I grew up listening to that kind of music so I was pretty familiar with a lot of it.  But one band I didn't really hear much growing up was Pink Floyd, because my Dad hated them for some reason.  Well my uncle loved them, and now being a born again Christian he didn't listen to rick music anymore.  And so there were a bunch of Pink Floyd CDs in his CD collection that he gave me.  I'm a huge Pink Floyd fan... probably my favorite band ever if I had to pick one.  And my Uncle giving me all those CDs was what got me into them.  I remember putting in Dark Side Of The Moon and listening to it just because I liked the album cover.  It was so different than anything else I had heard before and all I wanted to do was paint while listening to it. 

I also had this math teacher who worked in a slaughterhouse during college, who told us all these really disgusting stories about how bologna and hot dogs are made.  That grossed me out so much that I stopped eating bologna and hotdogs.  (This all is relevant later.) 

So my senior year in high school when I started dating S... these were some things he mirrored.  He stopped eating bologna and hot dogs, also.  And he became a huge fan of every band I liked, especially Pink Floyd.  And it was weird because it was almost like he was trying to out-fan me.  (I would come to find out later this seems to be a thing with Pink Floyd fans in general... some of them are really elitist when it comes to fandom... but that's a whole other thing.)  But S had a full time job and made good money.  So he had to go out and buy every CD, and he had to go get all these t-shirts, and posters, etc. 

The CDs were the first thing.  I had The Wall and Darkside of the Moon and Animals...  and that was it.  So he had to go get all the ones I had, and then all the ones I didn't have.  I bought one Pink Floyd shirt, so he had to go out and buy himself like 5 Pink Floyd shirts.  (Funny... the one Pink Floyd shirt I owned back then was cursed I think...  bad things seemed to happen every time I wore it.  Eventually I retired it permanently and hung it on my bedroom wall.) 

And then the artist in me started doing some fan art and making this collage thing in the one corner of my room.  I could print out whatever I wanted in the computer lab at school so I printed off a whole bunch of black and white pics online and colored over them with colored pencils and drew things to add to it, etc.  So I had this really artsy Pink Floyd collage thing on my bedroom wall.  Well once I started working on that, was when he started going out and buying all the posters and stuff.  And he would tease me and be like, "You had to make your own poster, I had the money to buy posters, tehehe." 

And he would come over to the house wearing one of his 5 shirts, and bring some of his shiny new CDs with him, and brag to my parents about what a huge fan he is.  And this got me in trouble.  My parents were so out of touch with who I am and what I like, that they had no clue what kind of music I was into until then.  My ex had also made a big show of telling my parents how much he hates bologna and hot dogs, too. 

Well then I'm getting lectured and yelled at about how I shouldn't like a certain band just because my boyfriend likes them, and how I shouldn't stop eating certain things just because my boyfriend doesn't eat those things.  And I tried to explain to them that it's the other way around.  It's him copying me.  I tried telling them that when Uncle John gave me all those CDs was when I started listening to Pink Floyd, and that was a year before I even knew S.  And that it was because of my math teacher that I stopped eating bologna and hot dogs, S had nothing to do with that.  But of course I was just lying. 

And what was even more frustrating... my Mom was the Queen of mirroring.  She hated Howard Stern with a fervent passion.  She talked about what a Pig he is, etc... until she started dating my step dad who was a big fan of his.  Then suddenly she loves Howard Stern and thinks he's so cool.  She drank Natty Light and only Natty Light.  Then my step dad enters the picture and he drinks Coors.  So suddenly she drinks Coors.  My step dad used to say all these catch phrases.  She started saying them when they started dating.  And this isn't really a mirroring thing... but my step dad said he liked blonds once.  What does my brunette Mom do the following weekend, bleech her hair. 

And 17 year old me pointed this out when I was getting lectured about how I shouldn't change and start listening to a band because of my BF, etc.  I pointed all that out to my Mom... and was told, "Well that's different."  Ok... sure it's different.  It's different in the sense that I am not actually the one copying anyone.  I'm the one being copied. 

I know it's funny in a way that I just wrote this whole post where Pink Floyd was so heavily focused on... and I'm listening to Prince.  But it is what it is right? 

 

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1 hour ago, mylolita said:

Can I ask Cynder, I hope you don’t mind - have you always wrote? Not just on your journal?

 

And also, what is your book about? And how did you get started writing it? And how long do you think it will take to complete? How do you sit down with clarity and motivation and work on it?

 

x

I have always written, yea.  I became a published author at 12.  (I know anyone who has ever written a Facebook status is technically a published author, so the title doesn't mean much anymore.) But I actually won a fiction contest when I was 12 and had my work published. 

My parents convinced me that I suck and that I would never be able to make any money writing.  They tried to tell me that about being an artist too and here I am selling my work all the time.  So I really do want to try to get my current novel published when it's finished. 

It's hard to describe what my book is about really.  I guess in one word, dysfunction. 

I actually started writing it two weeks after Z left when I was very suicidal.  The short story that started it was about 6 pages long and it was inspired by a story she told me once about something that happened to her as a teenager.  I changed it enough though that I didn't just write her story.  I took elements of her story and mixed in a lot of my own elements.  As much as I'm proud of what I've written I'm also kind of resentful of myself for having her as a Muse even after she's gone.  She inspired a lot of paintings and poetry when we were together.  But it's different that I'm still drawing inspiration from her after she left. 

I don't know how long it will take to finish.  But since I decided recently that I actually do want to try to publish it, I want to devote a little more time to working on it and finishing it.  Before it was just kind of a whenever I feel like it thing. 

Z would probably be furious if she knew this was what I did with a story she told me once.  But I don't really care.  She obviously didn't care much about my feelings when she ghosted me 9 months ago. 

There is one chapter of my novel here, if you are interested in reading it.  If not, that's fine. 

 

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2 hours ago, mylolita said:

You should!

 

I think everyone should follow their dreams. It’s a tragedy to not even try! 
 

Erin mentions the word golden child as well! (It happened to be her eldest sister!) 

 

I will check it out, thanks!

 

Ohhh and I think I can handle it 😉 one of my favourite authors is a guy called Robert Beck, his street moniker was Iceberg Slim - his most famous book, ‘Pimp’ is one of my all time favourites! After that I have read everything he has wrote which is under 10 books. It’s his story of true life on the Chicago ghetto streets from the 20s through to the 70s. It’s beyond awesome, if you have never heard of it again Cynder, I would recommend!

 

I was a lapdancer and stripper between the ages of 19 and nearly 22. One of the main clubs I worked at was ran by a gangster. I feel like I might have a stronger stomach and not as innocent bambi eyed as some people might presume! I am always ready to be shocked! Hit me! 🤣

 

Best of luck with your book! Well done for starting, I haven’t even done that!

That sounds right up my alley. 

People on Reddit have called my stuff "Debauchery Fiction."  Idk if I agree totally with that.  My work is violent and riddled with drug use and stuff.  But none of it is gratuitous.  I think of debauchery fiction and I think of stories that are just full of sex, drugs, etc for no real reason other than shock value.  Maybe that's how some people see my work.  If they do than I can't change that. 

My novel has a female on male rape scene.  A lot of people made interesting comments about that scene.  And it's sad that the majority of people wondered why the male character was so upset afterwords.  If I would have written the same scene but with genders reversed people would have been appalled and threatening to dox me.  (People love to do that over on Reddit, lol.) 

There is a cab driver I know who was in his 20s back in the 70s and he lived in New Orleans back then.  He has so many stories to tell.  I've told him he needs to write all this down.  I even offered to help edit it for him. 

My grandma was almost 90 when she died and mentally sharp.  I did a series of recorded interviews with her about her life.  I've mentioned that to this guy, too.  I would love to get him on tape telling some of his stories. 

I always feel like I have to warn people before reading my stuff because people are so sensitive these days.  I had a few people pissed off at me on Reddit once because I said a female character's features were "Doll like."  This character was someone the main character (male) was attracted to. So people were saying I shouldn't be describing a grown woman as having doll like features because it means she looks like a child and then a grown man finds that attractive, etc.  

Anyway... I'm writing so much in here tonight because I'm procrastinating.  I need to go clean my kitchen. 

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Hey Cynder!

 

Hope your kitchen is now sparkling 🥲

 

Well I don’t know the first thing about writing or writing a book or publishing a book - but the fact you write often, and have even started something, is very impressive and I think you should definitely carry on!

 

If it means something too you it means something too you and I think that is a good bench mark of whether it’s any good. I know that sounds corny but, the main person you have to please is yourself right? I imagine, it has to be liberating or releasing or powerful to mean anything and if it is something like that too you, the story, and writing it then, it can only be a good thing!

 

I’ve never been on Reddit before but heard of it!

 

I once heard an author say something that seemed very true and golden. It was this - once you are close to finishing your book, do not get cold feet, start self doubting. Don’t go back and re-write, start meddling and doing over. She said then, the piece has already lost its power. I imagine most people once they slap the script down wrestle with a huge temptation to go back and back and back over. It can make the initial flurry of original magic disappear.

 

I thought that was really interesting but practical advice. Hope you don’t mind that I passed it on there - might be of no use to you at all but I just thought I’d put it out there!

 

All the best of luck with your book and I will give your chapter a read!

 

x

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And Cynder…

 

… don’t ever sensor or filter yourself for anyone. If you want to write it or say it - do it! Life IS shocking. It is powerful and amazing and mind blowing and heart achingly tragic. If you are in touch with yourself. You have to be in touch with yourself to write or make any kind of art, in a real, brutally honest, deep way. You have to be able to acknowledge all the bad with all the good and everything inbetween.

 

I am looking forward to reading your chapter!

 

Blabbing again! Back to your journal, not gonna interrupt again! (I could talk all year about writing but this is your place!) 
 

Best,

 

x

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6 hours ago, mylolita said:

Hey Cynder!

 

Hope your kitchen is now sparkling 🥲

 

Well I don’t know the first thing about writing or writing a book or publishing a book - but the fact you write often, and have even started something, is very impressive and I think you should definitely carry on!

 

If it means something too you it means something too you and I think that is a good bench mark of whether it’s any good. I know that sounds corny but, the main person you have to please is yourself right? I imagine, it has to be liberating or releasing or powerful to mean anything and if it is something like that too you, the story, and writing it then, it can only be a good thing!

 

I’ve never been on Reddit before but heard of it!

 

I once heard an author say something that seemed very true and golden. It was this - once you are close to finishing your book, do not get cold feet, start self doubting. Don’t go back and re-write, start meddling and doing over. She said then, the piece has already lost its power. I imagine most people once they slap the script down wrestle with a huge temptation to go back and back and back over. It can make the initial flurry of original magic disappear.

 

I thought that was really interesting but practical advice. Hope you don’t mind that I passed it on there - might be of no use to you at all but I just thought I’d put it out there!

 

All the best of luck with your book and I will give your chapter a read!

 

x

I go back and revise everything.  The chapter I posted on here is on about it's 5th revision by this point.  But when I do that I don't change the plot or anything.  It's more about tightening things up.  My style is minimalist.  I don't use flowery language when I write.  So a lot of my revising is about eliminating unnecessary words.  I try to say what needs to be said in as few words as possible.  So every word has to count.  I'm also big on the Chekhov's Gun principle.  Don't mention something unless you plan to use it. 

As far as censoring myself...  I have mixed feelings about that.  I don't censor myself when I know I can be anonymous.  But my writing has actually gotten me in a lot of trouble in real life a few times.  Back in high school I was writing a story that one of my friends read and then it got passed around to a bunch of people and I ended up in the principal's office and was told unless it's for a school assignment I'm not allowed to write anymore on school grounds.  What was it that was so offensive?  Well someone in my little circle of friends was convinced the antagonist in the story was supposed to be her.  She wasn't.  But I got in trouble for writing hateful things about other students, etc.  

And this was just a few years ago at my old job...  I always had a notebook with me at work.  My old job was really mind numbing and so I thought of a lot of ideas and stuff while at work.  And the notebook was for writing down stuff like that.  But I also wrote some short stories in my work notebook occasionally.  If I was at work and got a good idea... on break I would sit in the breakroom and write. 

Well one night I left my notebook at my workstation by mistake.  This was when I worked second shift.  So it sat there all night.  The lady who did my job on day shift came in the next day and decided to just go through the whole thing and read everything. 

Ok... and there was one story I had in there where a teenage girl was at a gas station with her Mom and sister.  And her Mom was not a very nice person, and she was trying to get her daughter to go inside and shoplift from the gas station.  (This wasn't the whole plot of the story, just one scene.)  And that character's Mom makes a comment about the gas station attendant that is pretty bigoted.  "Just go in there and take it.  But don't let that *slur* see you." 

Well that was the only time I've ever used a racial *** in any of my work ever.  And of course that story gets read by the wrong person.  And instead of just putting it back and keeping it to herself, of course she goes and takes it to my supervisor.  And instead of just keeping it to himself, my supervisor goes through the whole thing and reads everything and then he goes and shows it to a bunch of people in management, and I get in trouble. 

My Boss sat me down and wrote me up for this.  His reason was that I was writing while I was supposed to be working.  I told him I was only writing when I was on break.  He said they can't prove that I was only doing it on break.  And I said, "Yea well you can't prove that I was doing while I was supposed to be working either."  He didn't like that.  Then he started talking about how what I wrote was offensive because it was racist.  And how now a lot of people who saw it think I'm a racist and we can't have that here at work because it creates a hostile environment. 

And I asked what about the lady who went through it?  Isn't it a violation to mess with other people's property?  (Because supposedly it was.)  And he said since I left it sitting at a company work station it was considered company property.  Well, this lady used to leave her purse at work all the time.  I told him, "Alright, while the next time she leaves her purse here how about I just go through and use her lotion and steal some of her tampons, and pick through her wallet and take whatever I want.  It's company property since she left it there right?" 

This guy hated me.  And I had been there a lot longer than him, too.  He was looking for any reason he could to get rid of me.  I didn't sign the write up because I didn't do anything wrong.  His whole "you can't prove it" defense works both ways. 

So yea...  someone read one of my stories and then a bunch of people at work thought I was a racist for a while.  If an author writes about murderers does that mean they are a murderer?  Of course not. 

Anyway... I need to go get ready for Wednesday night Vinyasa. 

 

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That is very unfair Cynder!

 

It sounds like you really stuck up for yourself though - good for you! Most people would’ve buckled! 
 

It’s terrible how tempting a closed journal is. I think if it’s left around, at some point, it’s going to get read and worst; almost passed around. Horrible to invade someone’s privacy like that! 
 

It has nothing to do with them!

 

Just keep it up!

 

x

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12 hours ago, mylolita said:

That is very unfair Cynder!

 

It sounds like you really stuck up for yourself though - good for you! Most people would’ve buckled! 
 

It’s terrible how tempting a closed journal is. I think if it’s left around, at some point, it’s going to get read and worst; almost passed around. Horrible to invade someone’s privacy like that! 
 

It has nothing to do with them!

 

Just keep it up!

 

x

I don't keep written journals anymore that are in actual notebooks for this reason.  Anything private that I write is digital and password protected.  Pretty much everything journal I've ever kept that was in an actual notebook has been read and gotten me in a lot of trouble.  And this wasn't even a journal.  I wasn't writing down my personal views on anything, etc.  

Things were really messed up at that company.  I mean, there were good things too.  I stayed there for a lot of years so it wasn't all bad.  But it was a really misogynistic place.  My ex husband worked there for a while too and he had some real anger issues.  He actually snapped and threw something at a woman there once and his "punishment" was 1 week suspension... with pay.  So basically he got a week of paid vacation. 

Then he did it again and they didn't even fire him.

Him and I worked together while we were splitting up and during that time he had everyone at work thinking he was such a poor victim and I was such a horrible wife.  And so I had a really bad reputation at work for a long time.  Then the throwing incidents happened and a lot of people approached me and asked me if he was like that when we were married. 

There were also multiple women there who went to HR about him because he was creeping on them.  There was this 18 year old who just graduated high school and he was bringing her flowers and stuff and he kept messaging her on Facebook.  He also was writing this other girl who worked there really graphic letters about how much he loved her and how much he wanted to make love to her and all the things he wanted to do to her, etc. 

I don't know what kind of dirt he had on upper management...  but he got way with a lot.  And he was a supervisor. 

 

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Last night my 20 year old co worker and I were talking about what it means to be "bad" in high school. 

When I was in school I was a bad kid.  But I was bad because I was always in the principal's office for dress code violations.  I gave someone the finger once after she called me the S word.  And I actually got into a few fights in school.  I grew up in a house where fist fights were a regular occurrence.  I was in a handful of fights when I was in school, I didn't start all of them, but that doesn't make it any better, I know.  I also got in trouble for drawing in class a lot. 

Nowadays though...  I would be considered an angel according to my co worker.  She was saying fights in school are such a regular thing now that the teachers barely even bat an eye when it happens. 

She asked me what kind of dress code violations I got in trouble for.  I told her it was my hair a lot.  We weren't allowed to have un natural hair colors.  But Red hair was kind of tricky because red technically is a natural color.  So in high school I had magenta hair and stuff.  And it was never really decided what was too bright.  And I also got int trouble for having too dark eyeliner.  But again there was no defined line stating how dark eye makeup could be.  And I was questioned my senior year about wearing black all the time.  There were a handful of students who got pulled into the office and questioned because of this.  They thought we were all in some kind of cult.  And I got in trouble once for my shirt being too tight.  And I got in trouble once for wearing a Pink Floyd shirt that had the crossed hammers from the wall on the sleeve.  They said a hammer is a weapon and we don't allow weapons on clothing and it also looked like a swastika according to them.  1475522483_Screenshot2022-04-28at18-39-33FastbullPinkFloydCrossedHammersTheWallFlag3x5ftBannerAmazon.inGardenOutdoors.png.43bb18c6f1001b45c22968fbd36cf6af.png

I mean... I look at that and I don't think it looks like a swastika.  But I guess to someone who doesn't know what it actually is maybe...  But I still think saying it looks like a swastika is a bit of a stretch. 

I grew up in a small town where everyone was very Christian and all American.  So these are the things that made me a bad kid.  My brother was a bad kid too in school and he had long hair and wore metal t-shirts and was in a band.  No behavioral issues.  It was all just his image that made him "bad." 

My co worker was saying that fighting and drugs and catching students having sex in bathrooms is such a regular thing now in school.  She was telling me she cussed out so many of her teachers and teachers are just used to that, etc. 

It was interesting though because there's such a difference between my generation and hers.  People seem to think of millennials as all really young people.  Most people don't realize the oldest millennials are 40 years old now.  And even gen z  (which my co worker is) are college age. 

I remember when I was little people talked about how so many things were going to hell because of Gen X.  And now people blame millennials for everything.  Pretty soon Gen Z will be to blame for everything.  It annoys me that people seem to think millennials are all spoiled rotten and entitled.  I sure as hell am not spoiled rotten and entitled, lol. 

I still think Gen X has most of the good bands.  Case in point...

 

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I just worked all night long and now I have to stay up all day.  I would rather stay up all day alone at home and be tired af, than sleep all day, be up all night and be at OCC on Saturday tired af.  So I'm back with more procrastination writing...  I don't want to go outside in the freezing cold and gather up stuff to load into the car later. 

My post that I wrote the other day got me thinking about music elitism, etc.  Talking about my ex made being a Pink Floyd fan some competitive thing.  I've heard people talk about how elitist Harry Potter fans are, and Disney fans, etc.  Honestly though...  I doubt either could come close to the level of elitism I've encountered being a younger Pink Floyd fan. 

Ok, I get it.  I wasn't even born when The Wall came out.  Hell, my Mom was just a little kid herself when Piper At The Gates of Dawn came out.  They were before my time.  That doesn't mean I'm not a "real fan."  

I remember being at a festival and this other vendor had Echoes playing in his booth.  Echoes is my favorite song ever.  And I was just really excited and I blurted out, "Echoes!"  when I walked into his booth.  Well this guy was an old hippie probably in his 60s and he immediately started giving me sht about it.  He's like, "You know this song?  I bet you can't tell me what album it's on can you?" He was being a real cocky jerk to me saying I can't call myself a fan because I wasn't even around back then, etc.  And I do know what album Echoes is on, I told him that too.  I said It's on Meddle.  And there are a surprising amount of people who call themsevles real fans who don't know how to pronounce Meddle, also, which I find hilarious.  It's pronounced med-ol.  The word is meddle, like to meddle in other people's business.  But so many people swear it's pronounced like Medley.  It's not. 

I've heard people say if you've never seen them live, you're not a real fan.  They did most of their touring before I was even born.  I know they toured in the early 90s, but IMO, that wouldn't have been the time to see them.  And maybe that makes me a little bit elitist too, but I would have rather seen them in the 70s when they had the full original line up.  The incarnation that toured in the early 90s was only 3 of the original 5 guys. 

A lot of the more elitist fans will ask someone what their favorite album is and if you say The Wall, forget it.  And it's not even that the elitist fans think The Wall is bad.  It's a masterpiece.  But that's the one album that most people know.  It's the one album that had the most mainstream success.  Some of the really elitist fans will laugh at you if you say anything other than Animals.  And Animals is actually my favorite album.  It has been ever since I was a teenager.  It's lesser known and really under rated.  Ummagumma is probably my second favorite and that's one that a lot of people really don't like. 

I've noticed some elitism among Tool fans, too.  I think it's because Tool fans are getting older now.  I mean... I was a preteen when Opiate came out so some people might even say Tool is a little before my time too.  In my opinion no one will ever out-fan my brother.  He worked his ass off when he was in his 20s and saved up thousands of dollars and pretty much lived in his car for a while while he followed them around on tour.  He's been to something like 50 Tool shows.  He's met all the band members except Maynard. 

Tool is the only band I've lost count of how many time's I've seen them.  I lost count years ago.  I've probably seen them a dozen times. 

Anyway...  I better go out to the storage building and start gathering up all my stuff for Saturday.  Then I have prints to pick up. 

 

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I'm trying to keep myself awake and I can't get into the novel right now... 

I don't know why I've been thinking back on my relationship with S a lot lately.  It was my first serious relationship.  Maybe I'm trying to figure out why everyone I love ends up hating me.  That isn't an understatement.  After we broke up, S was actually trying to hire someone to kill me.  He was suing me.  He was going to have me thrown in jail, etc.  Obviously this wasn't all in that order.  Once he realized it's not illegal to break up with someone and he can't have me locked up then he was going to sue.  But then he realized you can't sue someone just because they broke up with you.  Then he was just going to have me killed. 

I wonder though, how much drama could have been avoided in that relationship if we both came from somewhat normal families.  My family hated him.  His family hated me.  And his family hated me for some really dumb reasons, and vice versa. 

My family hated him just because he was dating me.  When there's one scapegoat in a dysfunctional family, the rest of the family seems something wrong with anyone who associates with the scapegoat.  Growing up all my friends were POSs for no other reason other than that they were my friends.  And anyone who showed any interest in dating me was a POS too.  And if they couldn't find something wrong with any of these people then it was just me making the relationship into something it isn't.  "Oh, he doesn't really like you.  He's just playing a trick on you.  Him and his friends are all laughing at you and you're too stupid to realize it."  Etc. 

His family hated me for some things that, looking back, were my fault.  But they also hated me for some things I had no control over.  It has been suggested more than once that I am on the autism spectrum.  I've gotten over it now.  But back then there were some social cues I just didn't pick up on and some things that made perfect sense to me at the time but looking back I can see why they were irritating.  Like, S always made such a big deal about all the money he had to pay his parents if they ever picked me up.  They owned a business.  Their shop was a lot closer to my house than their house.  So sometimes his parents would pick me up after leaving the shop to take me to their house.  Well S talked about all the money they charged him for doing this.  So because they were charging him money and he was paying for this service, it just never occurred to me to thank them.  I was a teenager at the time and to me it just didn't make any sense for me to thank people who were doing a paid service.  But that was something they got really mad at me for.  But instead of saying something early on they let this fester for months and then blew up about it. 

His sister didn't like me because I called her the B word as a joke once.  But she also used to brag about how that's what everyone calls her at work and how her boss even made her a joke name tag that said it.  Well then she was leaving for work and as she's walking out the door I was like, "Have a good day at work B--."  To me it was funny because we were literally talking about it 5 minutes ago.  I was 17 at the time, she was 26.  She told S later that night that if I was over 18 she would have beat my ass.  And from then on I was terrified of her.  And she also used to call me a fat cow and stuff which I didn't appreciate at all.  S said something to her about it once and she said, "If she can call names than I can call names." 

My sense of humor really pisses people off sometimes.  I've learned to just keep it to myself unless I'm around people I know can take it. 

My parents blamed S for some really ridiculous things.  I got the blame for mostly everything that went wrong in my house.  But if there was no possible way they could blame me, in the time when S was in the picture they usually found some way to blame him. 

There was one time when I was at work.  My brothers were getting ready to go to Pool League.  And there was this girl in a green bikini laying out at the house next door.  Well I guess my step dad was trying to rush my Mom out of the house to take my brothers to pool league even though they didn't have to be there for like another hour.  And so she finally gave in and left and decided to take my brothers to get food before.  I was at work so I didn't hear about any of this until after the fact.  I just know that night when my Mom picked me up from work she was livid.  She was screaming and yelling about how she had a bone to pick with me.  And all I could think was Oh God *** did I do now?  She started asking me why I brought the binoculars outside and left them there. 

I had no clue what the hell she was talking about.  Well then she's not livid at me anymore, now she's livid at my step dad.  Because now she knows he most likely brought them outside to look at the bikini girl.  So they got into this huge fight.  I mean, I think that was one of the nights the cops were at our house.  (It happened a lot so I can't be sure.) 

And I was supposed to go somewhere with S two days later.  My step dad came into my room in the morning and woke me up and he was all mad.  He was like, "I found something this morning and I know you know what it was."  I'm sitting up in bed half asleep thinking, "Oh God... what?" 

He handed me a note that was taped to the garage door.  It said, "Was the green bikini worth the lie you told your wife.  Not so stupid ***."  And it was in my Mom's handwriting.  My Mom has really distinct handwriting. So I was really confused.  

So basically the note was found taped to the garage door in the morning, and they KNOW I put it there.  I wrote it to look like my Mom's handwriting, and I snuck out there in the middle of the night and put the note there.  And then they decided if I didn't do it myself that I put S up to doing it and he came in the middle of the night and put it there.  I remember when my Om got home that day her first words to me were, "What do you know about the note that was taped to the garage door?"  And she kept asking me how it got there?  Who put it there?  Why don't I just admit that either me or S did it?  They know it was one of us. 

To me this whole thing was so beyond asinine.  First my step dad tried to blame me for bringing the damn binoculars outside to cover his own ass.  Then this stupid note shows up and it's so painfully obvious my Mom wrote it, and I'm being blamed for that too.  They tried to say it looked like a left handed person wrote it and since S is left handed it must have been him. 

I think the most likely scenario is that my Mom did it when she was blackout drunk and didn't remember doing it.  It was her writing but it was really sloppy like she wrote it while drunk. 

My step dad's car got a scratch on the side once and that was S too, even though there was no way to prove it.  And of course he did it on purpose and I probably told him to do it. 

When I started seeing him my parents hated him right from the getgo and they didn't even really know him.  So he called one night and talked to my Mom and offered to come over and hang out with my parents so they could get to know him better.  Idk...  I'm not a parent but I'm just trying to imagine if I had a teenage daughter and her boyfriend called me and made this offer.  I would actually think that was pretty cool.  I would see it as "He really likes my daughter and wants to make a good impression on me, so sure."  Not my parents.  That phone call resulted in him getting yelled at on the phone and hung up on and then me getting yelled at all night because they were convinced I was pregnant and he was wanting to come over and talk to them to break the news.  We hadn't been dating that long and I was a virgin at the time.  But trying to tell them that was like talking to a wall.  It was basically hours of "You better tell us what the hell is going on!"  "Nothing is going on."  "Are you knocked up?  You are aren't you?  You stupid ass!"  "No I'm not.  I swear to God I'm not."  "Are you having sex with him?" "No."  "You God damned liar!"  This just went on and on and on.  Talking in circles because everything I said was a lie.  (Not really but they were so convinced it was...)  It got to the point where I considered just telling them I was sleeping with him just to get it to stop. 

There were so many lose lose situations. 

I was in and out of therapy from age 11 up.  And they wondered why the therapy wasn't working.  It never occurred to them that maybe I'm not as messed up as they think I am.  I overheard a phone call once where my Mom told my aunt why I stopped going to one therapist.  It was because the therapist started questioning her and my Dad's parenting.  She was telling my aunt that this therapist was starting to ask her questions about the way her and Dad treat me, etc.  And then she started talking about how I am so crafty.  I just went in there and convinced this therapist that I"m an angel and that they are mean to me.  She was saying she needs to find another therapist that won't fall for my BS. 

It's funny... my parents thought I was too stupid to do mostly everything.  They treated me like I was developmentally delayed all through childhood.  But at the same time they thought I was some kind of evil genius who could manipulate someone who went to school for half their life and worked their ass off to become a therapist.  They think I'm dumber than a box of rocks but also smarter than my therapist.  And I was like 11 at the time, too.  11 year old me just went in there and completely tricked my 40 year old therapist. 

I just have to make it through a couple more hours before I can go to sleep. 

I got K a model car because he's really into them right now.  I can't weight to give it to him when he comes over today. 

 

 

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I know I've written about music a lot lately...  There are very few bands I really loathe.  Evanescence is one of them, for a few reasons.  Biggest reason being that damn bring me to life song.  I just remember for like a year straight that song was played constantly.  And it was played on almost all the stations, so there was no escaping it.  And at the time I worked a retail job at a beauty supply store.  We had a lot of funky hair color and weird colors of nail polish and high end makeup and stuff.  They hired a lot of alt looking people to work there.  And then suddenly because of Evanescence, all these soccer Moms are coming in the store wanting to be Goth now so they can be like Amy Lee.  I even had a few of them try to argue with me about what it really means to be Goth.  Idk... maybe I'm a purist but Evanescence sure as hell isn't Goth in my opinion.  Like Ok Kystal, I don't need you to explain to me what a Goth is while I'm helping you pick out your black hair dye and lipstick and you're sipping on your white chocolate machiato and letting your three screaming kids run around the store. 

But anyway... last night I heard the song My Immortal.  I've heard it before but never paid much attention to the lyrics.  Good Gods... if there was ever a song that describes how I feel right now about my ex.  As much as I hate the band, that song really does nail it.  I'm glad it's a song by a band I don't like that nails it so well though.  Because now nothing has to be ruined for me.  Like... if it was a Tool song, that would suck.  Even though the Tool song Jambi reminds me a lot of her and our relationship, past and present, the song isn't completely ruined for me and I don't automatically associate her with it.  There are some lines in Jambi that really hit home, but the entire song doesn't describe what I'm going through.  Like, I could have written My Immortal myself.  And that isn't me being all full of myself and saying I could write a really popular song like that.  I mean it more like if I decided to sit down and write some song lyrics about Z and I... all the same sentiments and feelings and probably some of the same words would have come out.  

But anyway... the car is packed, I'm about to die for about 8 hours.  Then I'll get up, cook myself some french toast with fresh strawberries, take a shower and head off to OCC.  I hope I make a lot of customers happy tomorrow and I hope I make a lot of money. 

No kidding... Jambi came on when I was writing this. 

 

 

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I woke up feeling sick today.  Sore throat, congestion, all the classic cold symptoms.  This isn't the first time I've had to do a festival sick.  But since I'm doing this event primarily as a Tarot reader this is going to suck because I have to talk all day.  Tarot readings for 8 hours straight is the most mentally exhausting thing I've ever signed up for.  But I have to do this event as a reader because that was the only way to get my foot back int he door at the OC shows.  They are super strict about who vends for them.  They won't let me have a whole 10x10 space to sell my art because the don't think I"m Goth enough for their event.  So I'm only allowed to sit at a small table with a bin of prints and read cards.  And the prints I sell have to be approved by them.  Only some of my images are allowed at this show because they don't think my work is dark enough.  

If OC events weren't such a huge money maker for me I wouldn't go through all the trouble. I really hope I don't get an email saying I don't look a certain way so that was a problem.  I'm wearing all black.  I'm going to put on some dark eyeliner when I get there.  I just don't feel like dressing to the nines today.  No way in hell I'm putting on a corset and a big frilly skirt and high healed boots.  Screw that. 

They are so strict about the way everything looks at their shows.  It's going to come back and bite them in the ass eventually because if they just keep rejecting anyone they don't see fit they are just going to have the same vendors over and over again and then people won't be as interested.  Having the same vendors over and over again is the worst thing to do for a festival. 

I'm going to go see if I can find some cold medicine in the house somewhere. 

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1 hour ago, Cynder said:

They won't let me have a whole 10x10 space to sell my art because the don't think I"m Goth enough for their event.  So I'm only allowed to sit at a small table with a bin of prints and read cards.  And the prints I sell have to be approved by them.  Only some of my images are allowed at this show because they don't think my work is dark enough.  

.... I really hope I don't get an email saying I don't look a certain way so that was a problem....

They are so strict about the way everything looks at their shows. 

Speaking of elitism... 🙄

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On 4/30/2022 at 7:19 AM, Jibralta said:

Speaking of elitism... 🙄

So yesterday I wrote this big long post about elitism in the festival scene, because it is rampant there, and then the internet ate it. 

Ever since Saturday I've had some anxiety about checking my email.  I'm just worried there's going to be an email from the OC organizers telling me I can't just show up in black jeans and a black shirt and keep my spot with them.  They won't accept "I had the flu" as an excuse. 

I saw D there on Saturday.  He was wearing khakis and a blue dress shirt.  And he used green table covers.  I wonder what he is doing to get that kind of leniency.  He's either paying them a lot of extra money or he has some dirt on them.  I wonder if they've ever gotten any emails from other vendors asking why all the other vendors have to look a certain way but he doesn't. 

I mean... for me looking all dark and Gothic isn't a problem because that's my style anyway and I like getting all done up for festivals.  Just this past weekend I was sick and didn't feel like it at all.  And I know other people who do OC who don't dress like that at all and aren't really comfortable dressing like that, but have to because they need to money. 

I still think they got him and I confused when they rejected me.  Because when I sent them some pics of my 6 ft table setup they asked me why I was sending pics of his setup. 

Next year I'm going to try for a 10x10 setup with them.  I've done the small setup for 2 years now.  The more space for inventory, the more I sell.  I'm working my way back up.  When I had my 10x20 spot at OC I would pull 5 grand in 8 hours.  It was crazy.  I would have to keep sending my employees to the car to lock up some of the cash because I wasn't comfortable having that much money in my cashbox all at once. 

Writing this reminds me... I need to go sign up for WF before I forget.  WF is my longest running consecutive festival.  I've been there every year since 2014 (excluding 2020 when it didn't happen because of the pandemic.)  I mean, it takes place practically in my back yard.  And my grandma used to have a booth there every year when I was a kid.  Going there with my grandma is one of my earliest memories, actually.  

I used to work for a company that employed a lot of people from out of town.  And I remember when I worked there I got so annoyed with all these people talking about WF when it was happening.  They were talking like it's just some big hickfest where a bunch of hillbillies all get wasted.  And none of them were even going.  Like, don't crap on something you know nothing about.  It's been going on here in my town every year for 50ish years now.  It's the huge 2 day street fair where they block off all of downtown and there are 3 different stages with all kinds of live music.  There are some awesomefood trucks there.  There are all kinds of artists doing live work, etc.  I love WF.  It's always a good time and I always see so many people I know.  Last year it happened not even a month after Z left... so I couldn't really enjoy myself.  Not only was I just really upset but I also was worried she would be there. 

So that being said, I better get off here and go put my vendor app in for it.  Plus I have a floor to mop and I need to get ready for work. 

 

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I've been wanting to write more about this weird relationship I had with my Aunt growing up.  She wasn't actually my aunt by blood.  She was an older family friend who lived by my grandma.  She basically helped raise my Mom and all my aunts and uncles on that side of the family.  They all called her their aunt and so when they all grew up and had kids we all called her our aunt, too. 

Idk though... there are 4 older members of my family who really hated me all throughout my life.  Two of them are my aunts on my Mom's side.  One was my maternal great grandma and the other is my paternal grandma.  These four women just thought I was a demon spawn no matter what I did.  

Only one of them is still alive and she still hates my guts to this day.  She hates me because her son (my cousin Michael) was born in September and then I was born the following November.  When Michael was born everyone fawned over the new baby, like most families do.  And then he was only 2 months old and I came, and everyone fawned over me.  And she was really pissed that now everyone is paying attention to the new baby and her baby isn't the center of attention anymore.  And she also was really pissed off because her and my Uncle had a Catholic wedding, went through all the stuff you need to go through for a Catholic wedding (it's a process, lol.) and they planned to have a baby and did it the "right way."  And meanwhile my teenage Mom goes out and screws a married man and gets pregnant and has this illegitimate baby and now everyone is paying attention to that baby.  I guess she just expected the whole family to completely shun me when I was born.  When I was a kid she referred to me a lot as it.  Like if I was crying as a baby she would say things like, "Can't you keep it quiet?"  Of course these are all things that were told to me when I was older.  I don't actually remember any of this.  I was a baby. 

My Paternal grandma hated me because I ruined my dad's life.  And those were her words.  She said that to me a couple times when I was a teenager.  I remember after my parents split up there was this big get together of my Dad's whole family that us kids all went to.  And I hadn't seen her in like 8 years.  She came up to me and went to hug me and she was like, "Oh Amanda!  I'm so glad you came!"  I told her I'm not Amanda.  (Amanda is my cousin.)  And as soon as she realized who I actually was she took a step back and was like, "Wow you sure grew up ugly."  And she walked away.  My sister was standing right there and heard the whole thing and my sister even gave her a dirty look. 

My Great Grandma on my Mom's side is an interesting story because her and I always got along until I was in my late teens/early 20s.  What changed was she found out I no longer identify as Catholic.  none of my siblings did either though, so I really don't know why it was such a big deal for her that I didn't.  She refused to come to my wedding.  She died of cancer and she actually planned her own funeral when she found out she was terminal.  And she told my Mom and my grandma specifically that I am not welcome at her funeral.  And when she was sick and in hospice care we all went to see her.  And she went on this whole long tangent about how much she doesn't like me and how I'm an embarrassment to the whole family and how she wishes I wouldn't have come to see her, etc with me right in the room.  She thought I went outside.  She was telling a cousin of mine that she wishes I wouldn't have come to her house and that she just wants me to leave.  And that she didn't go to my wedding because I didn't have a Catholic wedding and it was against her religion.  That I'll be sorry one day when I'm burning in hell.  And that my whole family knows how bad I am, I'm such an embarrassment, etc.  And I was standing four feet away from her. 

But my aunt that I originally started writing this post about (and don't really have much time now to talk about) I really have no idea what her beef was with me.  She didn't like me even when I was a kid.  But she also always wildly exaggerated things I did and said and I was never afraid to call her out on it, even as a kid. 

Well, I will have to go more in depth about her later.  Right now I have to leave for work.  It's pouring rain tonight.  That means we won't get many people in at work.  But it also means having to mop up wet footprints all night long.  Fun. 

 

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So this guy I've mentioned here before, his name is Elijah, he just texted me to tell me his leg is swollen.  I said maybe it's the weather.  Changing weather can have that effect on people sometimes.  So he sends me a pic of his leg and asks if he should go to the ER.  Sorry but why the hell are you asking me...?  I'm not a doctor.  And it's pretty obvious he was naked when he took the pic.  I mean, I can't see anything NSFW.  But idk man... that's creepy. 

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So hopefully I will still have a job by the end of the day today... since apparently it doesn't matter if customers feel unsafe.  I'm just an ignorant suburban white chick and I'm racist.  I will write the whole story later.  But man... cops were there... and I'm apparently as bad as the people who killed George Floyd (according the this guy I am, anyway.)  And then my coworker and I were harassed for a good bit of the night after that.  Basically some suspicious things were going on in our parking lot, some customers were complaining.  So I called the non emergency number for the cops and asked them to come and check it out.  Because I'm a firm believer that if you see something, say something.  Well I had no idea this guy was black.  All I did was describe his car to the cops.  I got most of the argument on video, luckily.  He wanted me to give him my phone because I was recording him.  I kept telling him "I don't have to give you my phone."  And he was recording me, too. 

Right now I want to just watch some trashy reality TV and go to sleep.   Going to go to sleep, then get up and go to Yoga class, then come home and hag out with my K monster.  

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