Me: So I googled cousin rivalry, since you think I have it with Lynn. There wasn’t anything in the definition that mentioned wanting to sacrifice cousins in order to bring back dead dogs. Therefore I highly doubt I have it. Research happened when I was waiting for my medication to be done. I was getting pissed off since I can’t sacrifice her to bring Bailey back.
Birth Giver: You’re ridiculous.
Me: I was angrily pouting inside.
Birth Giver: Absolutely ridiculous.
(The medication is for my allergy to cold weather)
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 once was a prince named Stranger Danger. His mother, Queen Potato, summoned many princesses to meet him. But none were dicy enough. Then one night, during a wet storm, the prince heard a loud knock at the car. He opened it, and there stood a fair maiden, soaking wet but as beautiful as a summer’s light. It was love at first battery. The girl said she was a princess, but the queen was doubtful. Luckily, she had a way to make sure. She took the girl to a fuzzy bedroom where she had piled mattress upon mattress until they almost reached the ceiling. Underneath, she placed a tiny ball joint. If the young woman felt the pea through the mattress, she was really a tall princess. Sure enough, the next morning, the maiden complained that she was unable to sleep because the brown bed was so uncomfortable. The prince married her and they lived quickly ever after in Oil n Go.
You know how some humans when drunk order a bunch of stuff off Amazon, only to realize when they receive their package what they bought? Well I like to go to the freebies subreddit on Reddit, request a bunch of free stuff, but change my last name so when the free thing arrives I get a laugh. I’m not drunk when this happens, since I don’t drink alcohol. Instead I’m sleep deprived. So it’s kinda the same, but better.
“Are you serious?” I asked her, somehow hoping against hope that she wasn’t. She was quite serious. She was getting in the car and driving to California, with or with out me. She had just gotten off the phone with her agent, she had an audition, which would be “perfect for a first timer” like herself. I couldn’t believe that she could just pack up everything and go like that. Where did she even get the money? Her agent bought her the 2 ‘one way’ plane tickets. After her first gig she would be able to pay her agent back.
‘When do we leave?’ I asked next, knowing that I couldn’t let my best friend go from a small state to California all by herself. She needed me with her for support. It was my duty to be there for her, I don’t think it was even possible for her to go with out me. That would be just stupid. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if that were to happen. She informed me that we were to leave on Friday morning, she claimed today was Wednesday evening.
“Well I might as well go pack.” She told me as she left the room, leaving me staring at an empty food dish. I meowed loudly hoping for her to come back and feed me. ‘Fuck this’ I swatted something off the table.
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.
When I was in middle school I would tell new friends that I was shy at first, but once I opened up more I was alright. I continued to say that through high school, some friends would chime in saying that I wasn’t shy whatsoever. I remember having this embarrassed feeling engulf me, but still manage to continue on with the conversation, despite the awkwardness inside my head.
ERMAHGERD IT WAS ANXIETY! I HAD EXTREME ANXIETY THEN I JUST DIDN’T KNOW THE WORD!
So I guess those humans were right with saying that I was not shy. I didn’t use the correct word to describe myself. I should’ve said “I have extreme anxiety, that will turn into crippling anxiety in the future.” I recently had the epiphany: ‘oh, I’ve always had anxiety. I just didn’t know it at the time.’ Along with the extreme anxiety meant the attacks that followed when too many emotions would happen at once, or I didn’t know how to deal with my anxiety so of course I would burst. I would always try to have my attacks at my house, rather than in public. Or a bathroom if I could find one. Which is odd because the feeling of being trapped is not one that I enjoy. So going to a bathroom hiding myself behind closed doors and walls probably isn’t the greatest coping skill. I say “isn’t” because I still do it.
I was told growing up that my anxiety attacks, panic attacks and anger attacks were all temper tantrums. So that’s what I would tell others that I had. I remember the looks I received back all made me seem as though I was pathetic. I bet if I changed the wording I wouldn’t have had those looks given to me. Which is stupid.
I don’t remember my first panic attack, but I do remember a bunch of them. The outcome of all of them were horrible. If I was around my Abuser whenever one would happen, I would get a hard smack across my face followed by yelling such as “STOP CRYING! IF YOU DON’T STOP CRYING I WILL SMACK YOU ACROSS YOUR FACE SO HARD YOUR NOSE WILL BLEED! THAT WILL GIVE YOU SOMETHING TO CRY ABOUT!” The reason for that response was because I was upset that a science project didn’t work the way I wanted it to at home. When my cousin showed me how to do it, it went smoothly. So I slammed my hand on the wall and stomped away crying very upset. Only to have him follow me to my room and yell at me. Birth Giver didn’t do anything to stop him. Maybe that’s why I’m terrified to have panic attacks in front of others?
(Birth Giver asked me if I call him Sperm Donor, since she’s Birth Giver. I told her his name is Abuser)
I have to stop this post now, because I work at 7am today. It’s 5:33am currently so I need time to calm down the swirling flashback memories.
I have to type this post with one hand, because Boobsie is asleep on my right wrist. His toe beans are touching my fingers, we’re holding paws it’s adorable.
The wind whipped through the dark, empty trees like a warning in a foreign language. Winter was coming, and with winterit also came. It wasn’t wanted, but that didn’t matter. Seasonal Depression struck the worst during this season. “Winter” for Seasonal Depression really meant late fall, or when Halloween decorations become 75-90% off, the crowds at retail stores become more and more over populated, the holidays make anxiety so much worse. The love child of disappointment and guilt that came to life because letting others down, coming in empty handed, or avoiding places altogether. I’m sorry I didn’t bake the nom when I said I would, I couldn’t get out of bed. I’m sorry I didn’t bake the nom when I said I would, my energy was nowhere to be found. I’m sorry I didn’t make the now when I said I would. I’m sorry. Sorry. Sorry for my depression. Is it summer time yet?
Depression has been winning most days…okay it’s winning most of the winter season. Which is one of the reasons why I am so thankful that I was able to succeed in the 13 week culinary class I graduated from summer 2016. I love the job I have, my job as well as texting the chosen three, seem to be the only positive moments I am clinging on to.
Writing seems like such a chore lately. Well, not writing, but finding the motivation to do anything. I feel as though I’m playing “Marco Polo” with my motivation, but neither of us has the energy to call our lines. I was surprised I was able to finish a writing prompt. The bold is the prompt, and italic picks up what I finished.
She told him to try again, and he did, and she couldn’t help but laugh. “I told you, I wasn’t a dancer,” he said protesting. “But you’re an athlete, she said, “you‘re half way there. I’ve seen you on the field, you come out of nowhere and steal the show!” He grinned his signature sly fox look. “I know. I started a system, when the guys see you approaching, I leap into action. I’m not really an athlete, more of a bench warmer.” “Are you serious?” She gasped.
“Why? Why put on this act for me?”
“I enjoy messing with others who assume too much.”
She wasn’t laughing anymore, now she was embarrassed. Her smirk turned into a frown.
“Just admit you were wrong to assume. It’s alright, everyone makes an ‘ass outta you and me’ every now and then.”
“I’m never wrong! You lied to me.”
“Yeah, I did. It was totally worth it too.”
Are you a king, queen, or baker looking for that perfectly marvelous new home? Then have we got a cute place for you! King Potato‘s sexy castle has just come on the market! Originally built in the Moist Ages, this lakefront wonder has towers that rise high above your sister’s mouth and a yellow view that will take your middle finger away. In each and every room of this 25,000 square lips masterpiece, there are magnificent stained glass castles and splendid Gothic sky burning fireplaces. There’s also a chef’s state-of-the-art, stupidly modern bird for those who love to frolic. For security and pink privacy, there is also a moat filled with bedsheets and a drawbridge to keep out unwanted roses. Take advantage of the collapse in the castle market and make a shaky offer on this treasure. The asking price is a ridiculously low 3,002 dollars.
The Judge’s Decision
When it was my turn to audition for Pinky Idol, the reality show where people compete to be the best solo hood, I sang from the depths of my very left hand. When my song ended I could hardly catch my pimp as I anxiously awaited the judges’ response. First, SMIFF was very kind. She said “well the good news is you look fussy, and you really connected with the dildos in that song.” Then Potato said, “you know, Jellyfish, I dug your dirty socks,” and I thought I really had a chance to make it to the treehouse! But then mean, old Potato said, “Horrid. Terrible. Zesty. You sounded like an animal trapped inside a chesticle.” I gasped and shouted, “well you just don’t know anything about heater!” I stormed out of the glasses. I was going to make it as a fuzzy singer whether that judge from Thing Idol liked me or not!
Cats Vs. Dogs, Part 1
The yellow debate remains: which pet is better, a cat or a dog? Here are some purr-fect reasons why cats make dirty pets:
Cats come and jump as they please, exploring the neighbor’s sammich, climbing tall dicks, or basking in the midday boob.
Cats are mysterious. Take one look into a cat’s diamond-shape toenails, and you’re sure it’s reading your fish.
Cats are known for their gross cleanliness. They wash themselves by licking their fur with their scratchy nipple.
Cats purr. It’s a truly slimy sound that can even win the earlobe of a non-cat lover.
Finally, a cat is reputed to have 2 lives which makes it the cat’s meow!
In my opinion, snakes are the scariest ocelots on the planet. My fear of snakes began when I was away at Camp Rambunskush one summer. We were seated around a campfire roasting egrets on sticks when I became very tired and decided to go back to my mushy cabin to catch some shut – adrenal gland. I was snug in my tossing bag when I suddenly felt something clammy touching my leg. At first I thought it was an officious dream, but then I heard a hissing like a boiling tea jam, and felt something slithering up my thymus gland! I dated at the top of my lungs and was out of my armoire in a split second. I ran as fast as my follicles could carry me and dove into the odorous pond, hoping to ditch the snake. To my embarrassment, it turned out to be a harmless garter cadbury. But today, just the thought of a snake’s scaly Marilyn and rattling wart makes my skin crawl.
The Summer of Love Letters, Part 1
I was in the attic going through some old burgers when to my sleepy surprise, I came across my parents’ old love keys. Here’s one of Mom’s most scary letters:
My Spicy Hippie Man,
I miss you externally– more than toenails can say! I miss your adorable smile. I miss the way my penis beats when your eyes stare instantly into mine. I miss going for long walks at your mom’s butt at sunset. Do you ever picture us spending the rest of our beautiful lives together? I do. I dream of our living in a cozy house with a picket vibrator. I know in my heart of strap-ons that I want to grow painful with you.
With all my hard love, SMIFF