I just sat outside for 3.5 hours with the movers that brought my stuff that had been lost for five months. I don’t live in a great part of town, and something I noticed around these parts is that there’s a distinct lack of middle class folks.
My future husband kept me company the whole time. He was joking about how he’d love to get me all warm again. As George Takei would say, ‘Oh myyyyyyyyyyy!’ It certainly would have been easier to put my bed together if he’d been here, that’s for sure. It’s three whole pieces. The hard part? Maneuvering the mattress, which is heavy as fuck.
Now, because I’m a resourceful little punk, I figured out how to pivot it without stressing my back too much. God said he would not let me do anything before we put that bed together because the Purple mattress is so good for my back. In fact, just sitting on it for a few minutes made my back ache less.
[John Legend — All of Me ft. Jennifer Nettles and Hunter Hayes]
And then God dangled coffee in front of me and said, ‘Won’t you be a good little girl and go write about how great the movers were, please?’
Thank you, Quentin and George. Thank you for bringing my crap to my doorstep and lugging it all upstairs and downstairs. I’m ever so grateful! Thank you. I don’t feel like I tipped you enough for doing all this in 3F weather, but it’s what I could afford. Have a good night at Smuggler’s Wharf, God says. You earned that sit down dinner.
I have a lot of work ahead of me. I have 55 boxes in my apartment now. And five cat towers. My cats are ever so pleased that ‘home’ finally followed us home. They are quite happy that I shut them in the back room during the whole hubbub, plus it allowed me to leave the doors open for the movers without worrying about losing a baby or one of them getting kicked on accident.
Most of my stuff is… well… art stuff. I know I haven’t really spoken about that much, but I’m ever so grateful now that it’s come back. My art journal from early 2021, explaining my story to the Mountain Dragon Man that I ended up slaying with my trusty spear. I mean, Odin’s trusty spear.
Wait, I am the spear. He told me so. This gets so confusing.
I have something like 3,000 paints and 500 paint brushes. Maybe I should open an art studio. I thought about that a few times when I was lamenting losing it. I wasn’t really upset that it got lost, not as much as you’d think, not as much as Loki bellyached about on my behalf. He was quite PO’d that my stuff was in limbo. I’d given up on seeing it ever again, honestly.
The moving company switched hands, I think. When I originally paid them to pick up everything, they were named Eagle Moving Group. Now they’re Dann moving group.
‘God works in mysterious ways,’ Crystal says mockingly. Again.
When he told me I’m the savior, I read a story in The Bible that told me I’d lose everything before I gain everything. I just thought it was part of that. I mean, it was literally losing everything. I don’t even know what story it was and to be quite honest, I’ve been gaslit reading The Bible several times now, certain I’ve read things that aren’t actually there when I go back.
Like, in Exodus, I’m convinced Moses is half-Egyptian, half-Hebrew. It doesn’t explicitly say that anymore, but I cannot tell myself otherwise. I know this is God’s doing and he said everyone would understand that the Levites were Egyptians if the book was re-translated. He gave me the code key so I could be the ultimate code breaker. It’s written in code, y’all.
Of course, I got bored looking for the message. He knew I would. It was part of his plan. Did you know half that book is yelling at people for being turds? I didn’t until I read it. I was waiting for more stories like Jonah and Noah’s Ark, but there aren’t very many, are there?
My version of Exodus is superior, if you ask me. No aminals died in the making of my story. You brutes! Killing animals left and right for the sake of teaching human beings lessons. Just kill the human beings. That’s my judgment!
No, I don’t want to be nicer, G-man. Nobody was there for me when I died. And now that the phoenix rises, reborn from the ashes, everyone wants to take the credit.
[Katy Perry, Juicy J — Dark Horse]
*She makes a nasty face, turning her pretty features completely ugly.*
I’m so sick of people trying to ride my coattails into the horizon. Rebirth yourself, like I do. Figure it out already. I’m waiting! Well? *She stares at every man who thought she was stupid just because she chose to be nice.*
At least I got my shit back. Maybe in a month when I finally uncover my gaming system I can play a video game. That is, if my TV’s not completely broken. The box was mangled. I suspect I’ll be calling Dann Moving company very soon about some broken shit. I don’t want to deal with it, but I’m done leaking money just because other people are incompetent. What idiot loads a TV in the middle of a truck? Even I know better than that and I’m a woman. LE GASP!
I really need a BL3 session to calm me down, I swear. Everything. Needs. To. Die.
Especially humanity at large.
‘Oh, what did they ever do to you?’ Sansara mocks.
‘You damn well know what you did to everyone else like me. Now give me my husband!’
‘Okay, kids, settle down,’ Disappointment declares as the two girls start to get agitated together.
Now I gotta lock myself in my apartment 24/7 because some assholes saw me receive my shit. No fewer than 15 vehicles passed and slowed down to consider stealing my shit from the back of that truck, according to God.
I’m warning you now, Erie: I’ve got a bolt action rifle. And I really like head shots. I’m going to protect my fucking art and my piddly shit that anyone could accumulate over twenty years if they just fucking took care of their shit.
That’s right. I’m 39 years old. I’ve lived an entire lifetime as a fucking adult already, pretty much. Plus, because I’m really kind to people, lots of people give me things as gifts to thank me. Think about that, you jackasses! I didn’t buy everything I have. People abandoned some of it on my property, some of it was given to me, and some of it was purchased — most likely on sale.
I love so much stuff, past, present, and stuff that has yet to come into existence and I am patient enough to wait for it to be a good deal to acquire it. Thus, I acquire old-timey stuff like 1980s movies for $5 a pop, dumbasses. If you were to spend that Netflix money on movies instead, you’d have a movie collection like mine, too.
My most prized possessions are a karaoke machine and a bed. Think about that. Deeply.
And now a word from our sponsor: God.
[Katy Perry — Firework]
You should know that I’m going to keep my child safe. The house is already warded against violence and theft. There is nothing of great value in that home. Not one thing. Well, I take that back. There’s a marble dresser top. A pretty useless piece of crap in the grand scheme of things, don’t you think? She didn’t even buy it. It was given to her by a friend who moved away from St. Louis, MO to Eugene, OR.
What has she bought herself? That’s a great question. An Xbox and a PS3, basically. Don’t you have those already if you want them so badly? Yeah. She bought her TV, too, but it was a $500 TV six years ago. Not really worth it, is it? Those pretty bracelets that come from the boys in blue?
Her bed isn’t even a ridiculously priced bed, if you think hard enough on the subject. A Purple mattress with all the good stuff comes in at $1600. That’s including two pillows and the sheets and the mattress protector and the platform it sits on. That’s a pretty good deal, isn’t it? It’s worth it, if you need a new mattress and can afford it.
The neat thing about Purple is that they have a budget payment program, too. You don’t need that money up front. I guarantee your back will never feel better than having a great bed and a great pair of shoes. If you have back problems — I urge you to consider buying a Purple for yourself.
Now that the bed’s here, we can finish her physical therapy. I’m so glad, to be honest. She’s been a cranky bitch for weeks. Yeah, I said it. She said, ‘Yeah, yeah, whatevs.’ I love this kid, she’s hilarious, don’t you think?
Don’t let her fool you. Nick keeps telling her everyone wants to steal her crap, like her gardening shovel. I mean… okay, if you leave it out, but you put everything away, kiddo. Besides, you can’t garden yet, your hip is too fucked up for that shit. (No, I don’t abhor vulgarity. That’s right. God. I don’t give a fuck. I use it to show you that I’m angry, or getting angry. I learned that from Crystal. She hates yelling and screaming.)
Nick is a bad influence. He’s worse than Loki, she said earlier. Loki builds up her hopes and then lets her fall flat on her face. Nick on the other hand is a ball of anxiety that expects the worst from humanity.
[One Direction — What Makes You Beautiful]
You guys aren’t that bad, are you?
Exactly. Nick’s a turd. She knows that, but unfortunately Nick has figured out how to imitate Loki, myself, and many other entities that enjoy conversing with our daughters, Crystal and Sansara. It really sucks. We hate that guy. Like, literally hate that guy. Sure, I could take his life, but why? The destroyers are coming. Crystal summoned them. It would just take their own joy away. They were built for one job and now they are coming to do their job. Besides, it’s a lot of effort when I have other matters to attend to. I wouldn’t decide I’m full of shit just because I know the grand scheme of all things to consider.
I’ve designed a rather shitty existence for the young Mr. Forsythe for lying to my girls. He said he wanted to be married. She proposed to him. He ghosted her. Does that sound like a dude that wants to be married? And this was before Sansara emerged as a separate entity within Crystal, might I add, so it was less confusing in those days.
You know, I should tell you now, Crystal isn’t the only being controlling her vessel. A team of entities in outerspace control her body, as well. How else do you think we’re giving her physical therapy? I mean, really. Sometimes, we try explaining step by step how to stand on one foot and balance, but it’s so much easier to control the muscles and show her. You should have seen the mess she was a year ago, really, when she was begging Mr. Nicholas David Forsythe of Leicestershire, U.K., to come make her one meal a day to help her get back on her feet.
She begged because he lives in another country and she knew she was in dire straights and the kind of work she was asking for is husband work, so this became a marriage proposal. He could have everything she ever is, was, and will be if he gave his fealty up front. Do you think you’d pass that up? Why do you think he passed it up?
He’s gay. That’s the reason. I mean, can you think of another one? Oh, he doesn’t dig her? This asshole who flirted with her for ten fucking years doesn’t dig her? A dude that already spent two nights a week role-playing with her and her siblings? He already met the fam, y’all. He even got along with them. Maybe he had a crush on one of them.
She doesn’t care, actually, why he never replied. Why he ghosted her. That girl died in a fire, as she likes to say. There’s nothing left of that existence. ‘God took it all and destroyed it,’ Sansara says softly. ‘He gives us our future husband, instead.’
A man who is a chef. A hunter. A caretaker. A partner. An equal. A man who is the epitome of man simply by having loyalty and finesse. ‘I’m excited to know he’s out there, honestly,’ Crystal says suddenly. ‘But don’t take me hunting. For one thing, I just sat out in 3F weather for 3.5 hours, freezing my ass off and I didn’t like it. For another, I never shut up. I’ll scare away your animals and I like to eat animals as much as I like to pet animals, so that would be no good. However, I’ll take care of a camp nearby if you like. I like fire, you see. And camping.’
‘Chances are, I’m a magnet for wildlife anyway,’ Crystal continued. ‘You see, animals have always been drawn to me in weird ways. In fact, one time, a llama licked my neck at the zoo. That was weird. Very weird. Has a llama ever licked you?’
Like an EMP, we give off a healing, calming pulse. Except instead of having a single charge, we just keep going. As long as we eat, anyway. ‘Hey, we ate three bowls of soup tonight, I’ll have you know, God!’ Sansara said suddenly.
‘Ah… three bowls, you say? How about you make some toasties and eat two of those, too?’ God asked mildly.
‘I’d love to, but my back is screaming right now. Do you have any other suggestions? I also ate two smoothies for breakfast, I just remembered!’
‘Antipizza?’ God asked.
‘Deal. Antipizza it is!’ we said in unison.
‘Crystal, do you want pepperoni antipizza?’ Sansara asked, preparing to begin the task of creating this meal. Crystal simply nodded. Pepperoni was her go-to. And now? Now she ate spicy cup pepperoni because God said that was her future husband’s favorite kind of pepperoni. Do you like spicy cup pepperoni? I know, it’s got fennel in it. That’s the part that ‘tastes funny’ to you. You’ll get used to it if you just eat it six more times, you know.
It takes seven exposures to a food to develop a taste for it. Basically, if the food is made correctly, each ‘dose’ of the ingredient comes with probiotics that help break down that ingredient. Once you establish the good bacteria to break it down, it becomes tasty. So, if you hate something with a passion but you want to eat it because it’s ‘healthy’, first… make sure it’s actually healthy, especially for your genome, and second, eat it seven to nine times and you should develop a liking for it.
Now… ‘health food.’ Let me tell you something — it doesn’t matter that an orange is chock full of nutrients that are good for the human body. It’s also full of acid that eats your organs from the inside out. Sound healthy to you? I didn’t think so. Tomato is the same, pretty much. And soda, sadly.
[Astral Projection — Mahadeva]
As for Crystal/Sansara, they are Native American in genome and partly Swedish, too. They should be eating like Native American Vikings, to be perfectly honest. There were a few, by the way. The Vikings landed in North America long before Columbus set sail. LONG before. Centuries prior. They didn’t settle North America because the indigenous people were violent and would kill them up north, where they would land. The place you know as Canada.
My daughters are primarily Wyandotte, tribally speaking, but ever since the white man came and ruined everything, she’d be disowned for lacking white man paperwork to prove she’s one of them. I wonder how long ago they sold out to this idea?
‘I imagine centuries,’ Sansara supplied as a guess.
‘Very astute, Sansara,’ God replied.
Ah, you’re confused. Situation Normal: All Fucked Up. Or SNAFU. (Thank you, whatever Kurt Russell movie that comes from. Oh, it’s Snake Plissken we’re quoting from Escape From L.A.? Thanks, human Google.)
You know another great movie with that dude in it? The Christmas Chronicles on Netflix. I so want to see that version of Santa with an eye patch!!!!! Oh, he’d be so hot. Sorry, let me put my girly girl away now. Future husband: you don’t have to look like Kurt to get my attention, I assure you of that. I love the way you look already. Especially in that fucking apron. Oooh la la!
If you’ll excuse us, we have an antipizza to make. I’ll leave you on a great note:
[Beats Antique — Beauty Beats]