I made mint Oreo chezcake cupcakes in honor of my baby girl’s 1st birthday!!
I don’t think I’ll make this recipe again, but I had to redo it because the first time I made them there was human error, totally on my end. I didn’t have the correct baking equipment. Ingredients: cream chez, eggs, sugar, creme de menthe, and mint Oreos. I’m not a fan of chezcake to begin with.
Here’s a recent photo of Appelsin, she likes sitting on this glass table shelf to show off her toe beans. She’s definitely become a little diva princess.
There has been so much that has happened since I last posted. Where to start? I made a new friend, (it’s very exciting) I played Sex Trivia with a group of friends at a lounge/bar. Our team name: Puss ‘n Boobs. We won 2 rounds, I was known as Cosmo Girl, because I read Cosmopolitan magazine and thus knew some of the answers to the questions. The pros of subscribing to a magazine for comedic relief.
I told my therapist that I’m no longer afraid of the feeling to be happy, because of the fear something bad will happen after. I told her how I don’t think I believe that anymore. But of course the next day after I say this I jinxed it. My sister is coming back home. I’m not excited, I’m not pleased, I feel as though life just bitch slapped me back into a hole. I just wanted the hole to swallow me, burying me into nothing. But then I remembered how horrible that feeling is, so of course I’ve been mentally fighting myself. A huge part of me wants my sister dead, a tiny part of me knows that my feelings will crush birth giver. The guilt of my very real feelings are eating me alive, I’ve had to take anxiety reducer tablets at night just so I can go to sleep. Last night I woke up covered in sweat because of how bad a nightmare was. (I haven’t had nightmares in awhile because of my sleep machine thing. I named it Babar and Russell.) Birth Giver told me how my sister has grown in the past 2 years as well as myself…I still farted throughout the day in the room she will be moving into. I specifically went into the room to fart.
I’ll post a better thing another day. I just needed to post this.
P.S. My new friend and I have so much in common, we both don’t have souls. I sold mine to Satan, and he’s a Ginger.
Appelsin is such a buttface. I was trying peacefully look at Harry Potter fan theories and memes, when this little, clawed, fuzzy, ninja, indoor panther decides to attack my laptop from the bottom. I’m sitting on the couch with my right foot firmly on the floor, and my left foot crossed over onto my right knee, thus creating a small table for my laptop. The small space between my thunder thighs is just open enough so Appelsin can jump up and attack. So when I lift my laptop up, there is a small little kitten face staring at me. I can’t help but laugh because there is a pussy in between my legs.
I fucking hate the holidays. I keep asking Birth Giver if we can just cancel xmas. I’m not religious so I don’t give a shit about a “virgin” giving birth to some spawn of a god. Xmas always meant receiving presents, spending so much on gifts for others, and counting down the days until January 1st. I always feel like such a fucking brat on xmas, because I have my list and when I don’t get what I put on my list I feel horrible. Sometimes I have moments when I receive something I didn’t ask for, and am in awe of it. But that doesn’t happen too much.
I remember one year Birth Giver gave me this knitting circle thing. I guess I made such a face when I opened it. Birth Giver asked if I liked it, I responded “no” because I was told lying is bad. Apparently I wasn’t suppose to tell the truth either? The fucking asshat (abuser) started yelling at me saying I wasn’t suppose to tell Birth Giver that I didn’t like the gift she picked out for me. I don’t remember the year but it was at least 12 years ago. I still feel like it was recently. This is what the holidays do to me, bring up so much horrible memories. I hate decorating the house for the holidays I find it such a waste of time, plus I noticed that my anxiety skyrockets when I focus on the decorations. This past week I’ve had difficulty breathing when I was upstairs by the xmas tree. I don’t want there to be a reason for me to give gifts to those I care about, I rather give them as just because moments, or I saw this and thought of you moments.
I’m getting worked up again, but I needed to let out my thoughts. Appelsin is squeaky breathing, she’s not asleep, but breathing heavily enough that the air coming out of her snoot makes little squeaks. She’s now curled up in Orey’s bed. Stereotypical kitty. Orey is asleep on one of Birth Giver’s tote bags. He’s definitely a mama’s boy. My tea is delicious, so that helps my emotions, I guess.
On a slightly separate topic, how did the phrase “monsters under the bed” come to be socially acceptable? I never feared monsters under my bed, when I was young I would crawl under my bed to escape the monsters. As I grew, I couldn’t fit under my bed. Stupid Trisomy X Syndrome. When I would switch to different beds I couldn’t fit under those either, I would try hiding between my bed and the wall, but nothing seemed to protect me. I tried hiding in the closet too, but that would mean I would have to clean out all the shit I put in there when I was told to clean my room. When my parents divorced, I think I was the only one who was very excited over it. For years I would wish for them to get a divorce, I was terrified of the fucking asshat who claimed to be my father. I still don’t trust fatherly figures, yes I understand not all men are fucking asshats to their offspring, but there are some that are, and they terrify me. I guess I’m always on edge when I’m around young children because I get flashbacks of when I was a young tater tot and had to find ways to protect myself. (My eyes aren’t watering, yours are.)
When I’m with friends who have offspring, I desperately try to push away my memories and be in present moment. It’s difficult, so I guess that’s why I don’t go out in public a lot?
I’ve been wanting to write this post for awhile, get it out of my head. I took a lot of motivation for me to do so, I’m glad I finally did get it out, perhaps some of the nightmares will leave my head too?
October has come and gone, because that’s just how time works. For Halloween this year, I was a repeat costume: white person in an informercial. It totally counts! …yes I drop things all year round, but on Halloween I get to really go for it. Potato Manor gave out glow sticks because we were the cool house of the neighborhood. The pack of glow sticks came with wands, glasses, headbands, bracelets, necklaces, rings, earrings….I think that was it? Ever since last year when my anxiety convinced me I was allergic to dairy, I realized that giving out toys is a much better idea than candy. When I was a young tot going trick or treating, one house gave coupins for bowling! I wonder if that is where my love of coupins came from?
Science Lesbian visited me for a couple days, it was amazing. Stranger Danger even visited too! So 2 out of my 3 close friends were in the same room with me at once! It was a comforting moment, that I unfortunately don’t get to experience often.
WOWBK: Words of Wisdom by Keely has been alive for 2 years! Well this blog anyway. I came up with the phrase WOWBK in 2013, I’ve been giving words of wisdom ever since I could speak.
Despite the constant nightmares of working on register, I think I have found a way to fight back. Well I hope so anyway. I see it as confronting my fears, but with an edible twist of humor, because that’s how I roll. Science Lesbian and I made a cake, not just any cake, a kitty litter cake. It was disgustingly fabulous. The cake was then delivered to my former job with a note attached saying “Remember when I had to work on register, despite having panic attacks? No hard feelings.”
I’m very proud of my swirly poop. The scoop was new, hence why the sticker was kept on as proof. Last time Science Lesbian visited, we made a boob gayke. Each time she visits we’re going to bake interesting cakes. It is decided! I’ll start a Pinterest board. Our lovely Litter Box was made of chocolate cake with almond buttercream, topped with crushed nilla wafers mixed with powdered sugar, then only the best poop shaped tootsie rolls. Such art!!!
The best time to deliver a kitty litter cake is when the health inspector is at the restaurant, followed by a bus. Timing is everything!
P.S. There was a pamphlet in Potato Manor’s door when I arrived home. A church was telling us to join. I told Birth Giver, “should I show up in my horns, asking if they accept friends of Satan?” Birth Giver did not reply….then again I was walking downstairs away from her as I was talking…
I’ve put off writing a blog post long enough, I had legit reasons for why, no motivation, depression increasing, extreme exhaustion, wrist pain, Appelsin sitting on me asleep and purring. I mean that last one I thought that I would never be able to move. Once a kitty lays down on you, you’re pretty much stuck in that position until they get up and leave. As the chosen bed for the world leader you can not get up. Just accept your fate and be proud. Appelsin is sitting next to me as I type this up. Orey is on my shoulder laying on the back of the couch looking out the window…he was there first, then I sat down so of course he had to lean onto my shoulder for support. He’s tubby, which may or may not be my fault, I give him treats because he gives me *those* faces. When I don’t give him a treat, I avoid his eyes, he follows me, continuing to stare at me until I cave. I end up going downstairs where he can’t follow me. We have an understanding, which is why his nickname is Tubby.
Orey just moved to the other side of the couch, I think he can read, he didn’t like the Tubby comment.
I believe it was last month I had this great idea to write a blog post, but I never did. So I’ll write it now.
To set the scene I dropped out of college in the fall of 2012, I lasted 2 years and a week and a half at Colby-Sawyer College. I’m surprised I lasted as long as I did honestly, I had lots of difficulty, not just with the work, but also my mental health. Campus Security was called on me at least twice. One time was because I cut myself with scissors, I didn’t have any plastic knives near me, which was my go to choice, because I couldn’t bring myself to use metal. A former friend called the heath center on me. Another time was because I turned my phone off so Birth Giver ended up calling Campus Security on me, having Campus Security knock on my dorm room was incredibly embarrassing, how I lasted another year was beyond me. This all happened my Freshman year.
I tried really hard in college, a lot of it I didn’t understand. When I would go to the tutoring place I didn’t ask more questions when I should have because I felt guilty for still not understanding the material after it was explained a bunch of times already. I liked some of my classes, but the material didn’t stick in my head. So when the exams came around I would always draw a blank on the answers.
I loved hanging out with my friends, and being in the clubs, I remember I told an upperclassman that I felt like I was at a summer camp the first week. I was having fun, perhaps I’m really good at pretending everything is okay when really it’s not? My Soul Mate in Friend Form was the first one to tell me how college isn’t for everyone. She was there for me during my multiple break downs, particularly one in the library. It was finals and I had waited till the last week because of course I did. I was in the basement of the library trying very hard to hold in a massive panic attack. This was Sophomore year.
I left during Junior year a week and half in, I already missed 2 days worth of classes, I couldn’t leave my room. My depression was getting worse by the minute. I felt extremely guilty being on my friend’s “Worst Roommates List” she hadn’t said anything to me about this, but I just knew I was on there. Plus my grandmother went to Colby-Sawyer College, she was so proud of me getting accepted that I didn’t want to leave or disappoint her. So I continued to suffer because I didn’t want to be the family disappointment.
When I got home I deleted so many college friends off of my Facebook. I was so ashamed for having to leave due to my mental health that I didn’t want to burden my friends. It’s been 5 years since I dropped out. I’m proud of my friends who have graduated, I’m upset that I burned those bridges with some friends, I can’t just “add friend” to a bunch of them because that’s just how I am as a Potato.
For a while whenever my depression and surprise bag of mental illness started to increase (usually around August) I would delete friends off of Facebook because of the fear, embarrassment, guilt, all around depression of not wanting to be a burden to everyone. Then in the Spring I would add them back, or try to. I would also just give up on the adding back, because of the thought of how obnoxious it must be to be deleted then added back.
There was another topic I wanted to do, but I forget what it was, plus this topic took a lot out of me, but it also feels powerful to finally let it out. As I was writing this post outside my window was moving day for a family of squirrels. I watched as Momma squirrel carried at least 3 baby squirrels out of a tree hole, one by one, moving them to another tree out of view from the window. I grabbed some photos and a video.
Left: Momma Squirrel is guarding the tree hole with baby squirrels inside.
Right: Momma Squirrel totally sees me
July was a blur, on the 21st Birth Giver and I went to the Great Escape in Lake George, NY. She won free tickets so of course I took the day off from work, to go to an amusement park. The last time I remember going to an amusement park such as the Great Escape was in the 6th grade. I had to get over my fear of automatic flushing toilets, it was either that or pee myself, which in 6th grade is good enough reason to move states. However seeing as that wasn’t an option, plus my bladder was going to explode on me, I had to sit on the toilet and hope I wouldn’t get flushed away when the toilet automatically flushed. Obviously I didn’t get flushed down.
Facebook told me it’s SMIFF’s birthday, like I’m some kind of peasant who doesn’t know the anniversary of when my Soul Mate In Friend Form graced Earth with her presence. She’s 102 according to her Facebook settings. She’s a burger throwing badass so don’t mess with her. (Haha she’ll love that sentence)
I got a kitten in May, I didn’t write a post about her because every time I would ask if she was ready to be exploited on my blog she mewed and ran off. I took that as a “not yet.” We bonded the moment I held her in the store. She fit in my shirt pocket and snuggled into one of my chest pillows. She was still too tiny so I couldn’t bring her home that day, I told her to eat lots, so she’ll be big enough that I can bring her home. As soon as I put her back in the play pen she went right for her food dish.
She hasn’t left my side since the day Birth Giver brought her home to me. She was my 25th birthday present, I don’t think anyone can beat her for the best gift…just saying! I named her Appelsin, which means “orange” (as in the fruit) in Danish. I named my mostly black kitty orange. I was looking for an orange tabby, but when I met Appelsin, we both connected instantly. I’ve had really good luck with black animals in the past. Boobsie is a tuxedo kitty, Orey is black and white, Winnie was black with white markings, and now Appelsin who is all black with a tiny white spot on her chest as well as her belly. I like booping her white spot on her belly….my battle wounds are worth it.
My Instagram @changelingderp has pictures of Appelsin. I love the tag #appelsin on Instagram. Pictures and videos of fruit with sprinkles of pictures and videos of a little black kitty.
My depression has been on the lower side lately, but I’ve been trying to stay positive. Doctor visits, therapy, as well as snuggles with Boobsie and Appelsin are helping.
I wanted to make an update blog post so I didn’t continue feeling bad about myself. I changed the layout, which is pretty much equivalent to making 5 new posts.
As summer is ending, I’m very excited to see all the back-to-school merchandise out. I absolutely hated school, but I loved seeing all the new, cute stationery in stores. Now that I’m not in school, I can soak in the love of cute stationery without the fear of going back to school. I’m not a supporter of telling kids to stay in school, I wanted to drop out in elementary school. That didn’t happen, so I waited for middle school, it didn’t happen. High school was the breaking point, I have no idea how I survived high school. College was fun until I realized that I had to do work…I just wanted to go to the clubs, meet new friends, and buy cute stationery. By clubs I mean anime club, not clubs as in alcohol, skimpy clothing, with loud techno.
Last week I decided to contact Shopping Cart, I was thinking about contacting him for awhile, mainly I wanted to hear why he didn’t do anything the night I was molested by his friend as he watched from a couple feet away. I was mentally ready to hear his side. His response: “Nothing happened. You were not molested or sexually assaulted. He put his arm around you. We had some drinks, he smoked, then he left.” Shopping Cart truly believes that nothing happened that night, he’s not in denial, he’s just a shitty human who doesn’t see women as humans, but more of objects. He tried to pimp me out that night, I ended up breaking down crying in the parking lot once I was able to get away. That was pretty much the breaking point for me, however I still wanted to please Shopping Cart, he was very manipulative, whereas I being gullible hung on to his every word.
When he moved to Florida a month later I was at rock bottom of my mental state, I had been off my medication (he convinced me I should go off my meds, because I “didn’t need them, it’s all in my head”) I was fighting with inner demons to get out of the ditch I had closed myself into. I had put so many walls up, which ended up crumbling down within minutes of hearing loud noises. I had so many nightmares about that night of June 12, 2014, I blamed myself for so long, it was obviously my fault, right? I was the one who trusted Shopping Cart, I was the one who went along with the wild side of living life on the edge. No matter how many humans told me it wasn’t my fault, I couldn’t believe them. It took months upon months for me to realize that it wasn’t. my. fault. I didn’t do anything wrong. I said “NO!” Multiple times!
I mentioned to SMIFF that I contacted Shopping Cart again, I told her I wanted to see who he was with fresh eyes so to speak, I saw him for who he was, rather than this perfect human my mind kept trying to tell me. I told Birth Giver that I contacted Shopping Cart, her response was “why would you do that to yourself?” It wasn’t exactly the response I was hoping for. However when I told my therapist she agreed that it was a great personal growth for me. Yes, that was the response I was looking for.
Being able to talk to him on the phone, then over messenger video helped me so much, I questioned my past, but also realized how much I changed. Now I would never talk to someone who acts or thinks the way he does. My nightmares of him are gone.
The next day after talking to him, my past self popped back up telling my present self that I should give him another chance:
Past Potato: He was gentle with you during the hookups…
Now Potato: He always had to be drunk first though.
Past Potato: He took you to the bars downtown!
Now Potato: Yeah I had to walk a mile or so to get to his apartment, in the dark only to find out that he had already started drinking, so basically I had gotten into his car while he was shit faced way too many times.
Past Potato: But-
Now Potato: Shut the fuck up, I’m doing great at the moment, I’m working at a job that I love, I scored in the top 3 of CKA taking ServSafe, despite having a concussion! I picked myself up wanting, needing to get better so I can stop being so scared to leave Potato Manor. I am not going to go back to Shopping Cart with his shitty hand drawn tattoos, he doesn’t believe that I was molested! He gave me so much PTSD, I get nervous when I’m around too much alcohol!
It was a loud debate inside my mind, but Past Potato shut the fuck up.
Since I’ve been forgetting to make great updates on my blog, (despite it being the home page for my internet…so I see it multiple times a day) I’ve decided to just post some of the noms I’ve been making.
Dog Cookies with Carob
White Chocolate Espresso Cake
‘Better Than Fries Potatoes’
Chicken Parmesan Bread Bowls
Sugar Cookies (Nibble out the hairstyle of your choice)
Peanut Butter Fudge
Box Mix cupcakes, with vanilla bean buttercreme
Whipped Cream on frozen fruit.
Momofuku Birthday Cake
Taco Stuffed Shells
Chocolate Whipped Cream on Chocolate cupcakes
I just had all 4 of my wisdom teeth taken out, so I’ll be out of it for the rest of the day. I recently adopted a kitten! So a post about my baby girl will be up soonish.
I noticed something on my birthday, April 3rd. Despite turning 25, I don’t feel, or rather I don’t see myself as an adult. In fact ever since I turned 18 I never see myself as an adult. I always feel like a child in this strange body. I’ve asked friends if they ever feel as though they are trapped in a body that isn’t their own, not in a transgender way, but as a “yo-this-body-doesn’t-fit-my-age.” Friends have informed me that no they do not feel that way. I let Birth Giver know, and asked if it was part of having Trisomy X, plus being on the Autism Spectrum, she said it is possible.
The event that gave me the epiphany:
T’was the evening of Monday April 3rd, this vision takes place at a Shaw’s grocery store. All I wanted was a toy in the 75 cent machine. The toy was called “Dogs in Disguises” Despite already having one- Diablo, a white dog disguised as the devil- I wanted to see what my chances were of getting a different one. I put three quarters in the machine and turned. CLICK. Open the flap, no toy. WTF! Shit, now I have to go get my refund of 75 cents. When this happens at Hannaford they give me my refund of 75 cents not problem, it has happened more than once so the workers at Hannaford know the drill. However Shaw’s did not know the drill. The workers at Shaw’s told me they don’t control the toy machines, since they’re controlled through a vendor. I know this, I just want my 75 cent refund. Lady from customer service followed me back to the scene of the crime, aka where robots ate my money. She asked a bagger what to do in this situation, he said he didn’t know, page the manager? Manager was paged, after a few more back and forth conversations, I was finally able to get my 75 cent refund. First I had to fill out a form, because of course I did. I put my preferred last name “Sir-Potato” since the whole ordeal was ridiculous. While this was happening, Birth Giver and her bf were wondering what was taking me so long. In the car ride back Birth Giver said from her point-of-view it was looking like ‘better give this grown ass woman her 75 cents back before shit goes down!’ Oh. This explains the reaction of the workers at Shaw’s, see I saw everything as, ‘humans are being rude! Robots ate my 75 cents, please just give me my refund and I’ll be on my way.’ This whatever it is, also explains the reaction from the bagger and cashier when I was offered the entire roll of stickers at Trader Joe’s one time. IT ALL MAKES SENSE! HUMANS SEE ME AS A GROWN ASS ADULT! SO OF COURSE THEY’RE GOING TO GIVE ME WEIRD GLARES, WHEN I DO WEIRD SHIT.
Since this power of knowledge has absorbed my mind, I of course have been reliving so many embarrassing memories, all of them are when I’m trying to fall asleep. So I’ll be up at night fighting my past memories, it’s difficult to fight them alone, which is why I’m so grateful that Boobsie comes running out of nowhere, to help calm me down. I usually fall asleep petting his fluffy belly, since I am allowed to do so. I also tend to wake up, with my hand still on his fluffy fur.
I think it’s interesting when I let other humans know that I am on the Autism Spectrum. They don’t believe me at first, but why would I lie about that? I’m not a believable liar, I would test lies out on a nosey neighbor, (made up relatives died) I mean there was that one time I convinced an elderly couple that Birth Giver named me Potato when I was born, because when I popped out of her I was such an ugly child. I have no idea how I was able to keep such a still face when telling them this, because every time I retell the memory I am cracking up. I bet it’s because of my great acting…which is like the acting in porn. Cringe worthy. I know I can’t act, which is why I’m always surprised when someone believes a lie. Am I learning how to properly lie? Or am I just magical? Probably magical, I am a changeling after all!
A teddy bear dog (Orey) snuggling a gay leather daddy teddy bear (Bun Bun):
Whenever I do or say something questionable, I tell myself “I’m an adult!” As though to make whatever I just did seem totally acceptable.
There seems to be a confusion about my Rock Band. They aren’t a band in the sense that they play instruments or sing, they’re a band as in they band together. My rocks are there for each other and me. Each time I pick up a rock I needed to find it for some reason. I’ve had friends help name my rocks as a way to help me keep connected.
1 .Bob the Boulder: It was late fall 2015, I don’t remember 2015 that great. 2015 was as if my mind was on pause, so my body just operated on its own. I think I had so much shit happen to me in 2014, that I had to block out 2015 so I wouldn’t have more shit piled on. The last 6 months of 2014 I had multiple humans abandon me during the time I needed them the most, these were human who I thought were my friends. I realize now it was for the best, unfortunately I wasn’t able to realize this sooner. During fall 2015 I was at my worst, my closest friends lived states away, I couldn’t open my door to greet SMiFF like in college. Every time I walked to work I would pass this rock on the side of the road, I would give it that head nod, the ones that humans give to each other as a greeting. You know the one that doesn’t involve talking, aka the best kind of greeting. One day before leaving Potato Manor I grabbed a reusable cloth bag, when I walked up to Bob I picked it up and put it inside my bag. Bob ended up being half covered in dirt. So basically I dug up a huge rock before going to work. When I walked into the cafe I remember Ms. Rapture asking me what was weighing down my bag I had draped over my arm. I told her I found a new friend in the form of a rock. I texted Science Lesbian asking for rock puns, she delivered with Bob the Boulder along with a few other options. My former coworkers agreed Bob the Boulder was the best name.
2. Kk the llama Rock: Stranger Danger texts “K” to me all the time. Yes, he’s one of those humans who texts me pictures of decapitated bodies. (OK looks like a sideways stick figure) I texted him asking to name my pet rock, he responded with “Kk” I responded with “Ll” because our conversations are amazing. Llama was the first word to come to mind that started with “Ll” According to Stranger Danger I named Kk the Llama Rock in homage to him, since he had no part in naming my rock.
3. Squire Spud: This one is in the shape of a potato. I’m Sir-Changeling aka Potato, so of course I have a squire! A friend named this one for me.
4. Peaches: Birth Giver found this rock on one of her hikes. She suggested I name it Crystal because of the way it looked. That was such a generic name, I asked SMiFF who informed me the name Peaches was better.
5. Melvin: This rock showed itself to me when I was leaving the Lake House aka my grandparents’ summer home. Melvin Village, New Hampshire on Lake Winnipesaukee is the location of the Lake House. I never refer to the Lake House as my second home, it has always been my grandparents’ summer home, saying that it’s my second home never felt right to say. In my dreams the Lake House always appears as a safety base right before a nightmare starts.
6. Shit Nugget: I was walking to meet Birth Giver at a gas station so she could then drive me back to Potato Manor. (This was during when I was in CKA, the sous chef would be making up lies to stir up unnecessary drama in the class. Which gave me unnecessary panic attacks that resulted to locking myself in a bathroom trying to calm down enough to get through the day.) I was angrily stomping my way to the gas station, I was upset that this disgusting human was able to get to me this much. I found a rock at the same moment I shouted “She’s such a shit nugget!” I then squeezed my rage into said rock, my anger was able to go through me into the vessel of a rock. With the help of my classmates and Chef I was able to succeed in blocking out her drama. Having my Chef say “it’s okay to say no” was a huge relief for me. I never told the sous chef “no” but I said it in a different way, which apparently was me sassing her in a way that made her livid. My classmates told me to keep on sassing this human, since it gave them life. Shit Nugget is that reminder that I won’t let some disgusting human get me down.
7. King Momo: I had this rock that was without a name, so I posted on Facebook that I needed a name for a rock, in exchange I would send noms to the winner. A friend I’ve known since Elementary School provided the name “King Momo” she also told me to look up the meaning behind the name.
8. Petunia: While visiting my brother’s girlfriend’s parents on a mini vacation with Birth Giver we were tourists at Plymouth Rock. Along the shops in the area there was a small one with Harry Potter merchandise. I found a rock outside the shop, deciding to name it Petunia rather than Plymouth (the name that was suggested).
9. Lucifer aka Luci: On my way to bother…uh I mean drop off noms, visit former coworkers, and try to free the major guilt that was associated with my former work place. I found a rock. I gave my 2 weeks notice in late February 2016, however I wasn’t able to free my guilty conscious from the flashbacks until January 2017. Flashbacks of having to leave all the time because of anxiety attacks from register trauma. End 2014 to early 2015 not only was I severely depressed, but I was terrified of an assistant manger who worked there. I couldn’t work the closing shifts on Mondays, because the fear this assistant manager gave me was so strong. I was convinced he would kill me from the day I met him. Saying this out loud seemed so ridiculous I kept it bottled up.
Whenever I had to work a shift I would prep myself 2 hours before leaving Potato Manor. Of course even then I wasn’t able to complete my shift, I would get to work act like I got this, last about 2 hours, end up having to flee from register because I couldn’t hold back the tears any longer. I never really forgave myself for letting down coworkers as well as the other managers who thought they could count on me. I would mentally beat myself up about this night after night. At one point after holding in 5+ hours worth of anxiety this assistant manager told me “we don’t need you anymore” before taking my register drawer to go count it in the office. I broke down in front of everyone. I somehow was able to tell the head manager that I needed to leave right then. I couldn’t look him in the eye as I told him this. I was so broken from such extreme mental issues.
I kept hoping the flashbacks would stop once that assistant manager left. Obviously that didn’t happen, instead increased panic attacks happened. I thought about leaving to find a different job, but whenever I would look at job ads I would have so much anxiety that I could never click on the job description. When I finally was able to leave the job I had the most guilt from the feel like I was abandoning everyone who counted on me. Especially the head manger. I never really felt as though I deserved the amount of respect he gave me. I stayed as long as I did because I couldn’t bring myself to leave, I felt as though I owed him so much for all he did for me. That’s a weird sentence, I feel I owe a person for treating me with respect.
I would always bring noms as a peace offering to the Friendly’s Ghost in hopes that maybe I could be free from this fear. It took until January 2017 to be free from the traumatic flashbacks. I invited myself to a work meeting, I told humans it was for the free food, when really it was so I could soothe my guilty conscious. I skipped one of those work meetings in 2014 because of the insane amount of fear due to that one manager. Lucifer seemed like a good name for this rock, which is tiny by the way. This tiny rock which stands for so much fear I’ve gone through.
10. Tootie: I told Birth Giver that while at Goodwill I farted since another customer was getting too close to my personal space. My grandmother told me she taught me well. There was a rock near Birth Giver’s car as she picked me up that day.
11. Herbert: I dunno, I found it while shopping at outlet stores. I thought the name was odd, like my rock.
12. Stirling Hatred: SMiFF gave me the name as we were reminiscing inside jokes from college. I had a rock that needed a name, after a fit of giggles it was decided.
16. Dewey: SMiFF loves Malcolm in the Middle I had 4 rocks which needed names.
17. Wanker: it’s fun to say…
18. Fredlicia: I walked into my former work place with noms as well as the announcement that I found a new rock, who needs a name. Fred was a name that was suggested, someone else told me to add “licia” to the end. Thus Fredlicia!
19. Global Warming: This one is in the shape of Vermont. Winter 2016-2017 has been crazy.