i still remember i went with my mom

Story-time: Disneyland edition!

Anyways! There’s a few stories about yesterday that I really want to talk about, but I wanted to start with one of my favorite ones.

So I went to DisneyLand with my mom, her sister, and my cousins - one of which brought he wife and kids. I don’t have many Disney shirts, but I still wanted to wear one for the trip. The one I ended up going with is a Nightmare Before Christmas shirt, but with Jack and Sally as ponies (this one).

At some point after we got off the Haunted Mansion ride, we splitted up. They went to get a fast pass for the Indiana Jones Ride, while I went in search of food, and to get in line to take photos with Jack and Sally. After I had gotten a snack and waited in line, it was finally my turn.

I don’t know if there’s some kind of protocol that the talking characters have about how they greet guests, but I’ve noticed a lot of them will usually do things like shake your hand, ask what your name is, ask if you’re having fun (sometimes all three), things like that. Anyways, I walk over to Jack and Sally, and Jack goes to shake my hand and asking what my name is. after he say hello back to me, he stops mid-sentence, and quickly takes a step back away from me. This is because he looked down, saw my shirt, and stared at my shirt for a good long second. 

He then exclaims “What is THAT??” as he points and my shirt. Sally sees it too now, and she’s just staring. She hardly has said a word.

 Jack takes a closer look before going back and pointing at my shirt again, asking “What…what is this? Sally do you see that -what is that?” I’m already grinning like a doofus at this this point, and in between giggles I say “they’re ponies!”. 

Jack looks at me, then back to my shirt before looking back at me and saying something along the lines of “Well yes, a pony but..it looks like me! And it’s like this pony-dragon thing cause of the wings, and look at the horn on his head! I could skewer someone with that!”

 I’m giggling even more at this point, and then Jack calls over one of the staff members that was stationed there (there were two of them - a guy and a girl). He calls over the guy, points at my shirt and says : ”Look at this! Don’t you think that horn would be perfect for skewering someone?”

The guy nods his head, and then says, “Oh definitely.” He then gestures to the Jack O Lantern cutie mark on Pony-Jack and says “I also like the little Jack-O-Lantern tattoo-thing it has”. Jack looks at where the guy was pointing, see the cutie mark, and says “Oh! You’re right! There’s a little Jack-O-Lantern there! I like that! Thank you for pointing that out. It’s so nice to have someone around with eyeballs” (he says even though Sally is right behind him).

Jack still looks kind of flustered about my shirt. I don’t remember what exactly he said, but it was something along the lines of how he was disappointed how he didn’t come up with it first. After that, he then starts to say something about how he doesn’t really know how to feel about the shirt, and then proceeds to telling me that I need to burn it.

 This is the point where I lost it and started laughing pretty hard. Jack continues on to say “Yes. burn it or cover it or something!” The girl staff member that was there - who’s been standing the whole time with my camera, waiting for us to stand still so she can take a picture - makes the suggestion that for the picture, I should cover the shirt with my Zer0 plushie (I bought a Zer0 plushie earlier in the day). Jack agrees to the suggestion (Sally too), and also chimes in to cover the shirt with my Zer0 plushie. 

Before he gets in position for the picture, he asks me where I got the shirt from. I wasn’t exactly sure how much detail I should have revealed about my shirt, so all I said was that I had got the shirt online. Jack then gives a rather annoyed, and slightly accusatory “Oh… Of course! You can find anything there.” after a pause, he asks “do you know if anyone else has this shirt?”. I told him no, and then he said “Oh, good,” following that with “Keep it that way”. I’m holding back laughter (still grinning like an idiot) and nod in agreement, while also making a little “zipping-my-mouth shut” gesture. Jack then says “Good!” rather cheerfully, and we all start to get ready to take a picture.

Jack interrupts the girl holding the camera two times; first time it was to turn to me and say something along the lines of “it’s good that no one else knows about this”. Second time is was so say “it’s just that it’s not scary enough! -sorry- (because he was apologizing to the girl with the camera) it’s not scary enough. If it were scarier, then maybe this could work”.

 So I then turn to look at Jack while saying - smiling the entire time- “What if the pony breathed fire?” Jack nodded and quickly said “that’s good! Breathing fire’s a good start! and not just fire. It has to be like, the giant, explosive, dragon fire kind of fire. And the flames need to be blue. Sally blue. If it breathed fire, then it might be scary enough”.

So we took the picture, hugged the two (Sally still didn’t say much. She just murmured a “you’re welcome” after I thanked them), got my camera from the girl and thanked her, and then went to sit down somewhere.

So, yeah. I don’t think Jack liked my shirt all that much. Still, it was great to see how Jack reacted. XD

something hurts inside of me but i can’t put my finger on what it is anymore -
i think something snapped inside of me when i threw a small party
when my parents went away for the weekend two summers ago
and my adderall perscription went missing along with the weed
in my mom’s dresser drawer that somebody gave her but she never used
and i still remember her phone call blaming it on me,
not that she cared because she doesn’t smoke weed
but it’s the principal of it and how confused i was because
i opened up my home and somebody slammed the door on my face
and i had to tell my mom i threw a party and i don’t know what happened to it.

i think something snapped inside of me when my boyfriend
cheated on me a year and a half into our relationship,
when his brother stole money out of my wallet
and still denied it a year later even though i got it back -
something broke in me that winter when i realized
what was going on behind my back all summer,
when i realized you can trust someone with everything in you
and they can still turn on you, when i realized
things are not always the way they seem in your head.

i hang out with the same two friends every weekend
but most days, i still ask them if they hate me
because you can never be too sure,
but i used to ask my ex-boyfriend every day why he loved me
and he never gave me anything but a cookie-cutter answer,
an answer that left me empty,
but i kept loving him and loving him and loving him anyway
and i kept pouring my love into him until he was overflowing
and just had to give some of it to somebody else

and everything comes back to that summer i opened my heart to people
i thought really cared for me and they stole shit with no apologies
and i still can’t put my finger on who did it, really, but whoever did:
i hope it makes you happy to hear that i still have trust issues because of it
because i would rather hand you $150 than have it stolen out of my wallet
because it’s not about the money, it’s about how sick it still makes me
to think about how many people have seen inside of me who really didn’t care,
how many times i’ve drunkenly cried to girls who slept with my boyfriend
and i know they never asked to see inside me
but i thought it’d help my trust issues to start trusting people more,
thought it’d do anything but scare them away and

i am tired of scaring people away like
the way i am is an excuse for people to steal and cheat on me,
like “oh man, my girlfriend is being so annoying this week
so i fucked your sister in my backseat instead of talking to her about it,”
the laughter i still imagine behind closed doors about how stupid and naive i am
for handing my whole heart to people i knew would break it
but i underestimated how badly it would scar me
because everyone knew my boyfriend was cheating on me but couldn’t tell me
and my ex’s friends wouldn’t respond when i texted them crying
to ask them if i’d been left in the dark all this time and

people call me paranoid, say my friends like me, why can’t i see that?
but how do i explain that i’ve been paranoid before
and in the end, i’ve been right, can’t you see that?
and when people tell me to calm down, i want to say
no, YOU calm down - YOU stop fucking me over and maybe
i could have one conversation without being so unbearably over the top
and i could type paragraphs on paragraphs asking people
why they did the things they did to me
and they’d either lie or reply with “i don’t know” and it’s disgusting
that people bruise others without even realizing it because they don’t think,
that somehow, i’m the loser in this story for simply feeling.

—  you ask me why i feel too much; i ask you why you feel nothing at all

anonymous asked:

!INJURY STORY! Ok once when my mom was making kabobs I was heading to my room and ended up with one of the wooden skewers in my foot. My dad tried to pull it out but to no avail. We went to the hospital and I had to get numbing shots in my foot. I still have the part of the skewer that was in my foot taped on my wall to remember it.

As soon as I heard “kabob”, I knew where it was heading.

my family is homophobic and it's a miracle i understand how gay i am

(i grew up mormon and (technically) still am if you ask certain family members) I first learned what a lesbian was when I was like 10, probably. my sister was talking about these “lesbians” in her choir class and my mom explained it to me. it sparked an image in my head and I remember having passionate feelings towards it, but discarded it as hatred. fast forward a tiny bit and chickfila was like “we are allowed to h8 gays” and so a bunch of people went to support them at my local one. my mom thought we should drive by and maybe eat if it wasn’t too busy (it was packed) and I felt SO weird about going. then I felt super relieved when she decided to not make us eat there. what I thought was hatred was just me being SUPER into girls. and thank god. (sorry for the novel, these are like the only 2 stories I can remember from before I eventually came out to myself)

Glitch In The Matrix: 2

The other night, I was in a tattoo parlor with my mom, waiting for our appointment. While she was looking through the art work of our artists, I remember her voice slowing down and getting really deep before she was at a halt.
I could still hear the muffled buzzing of the tattoo equipment, but everyone was frozen. I looked out the window and everything looked normal, moving at it’s normal pace.
I got up and went outside, and again, everything was normal. So I looked back into the tattoo parlor and everything still looked frozen.
Going inside, everything was back to normal.
Chris, my mom’s artist asked if I was alright and I told him I was but asked why he asked. He told me that in the middle of talking to my mom, I stood up and just really slowly walked outside, before slowly walking back in.

I remember when I was like 13 I got a camera as a Christmas present and I’ve never been a huge picture-taker so I felt guilty about my parents spending so much money on something I wouldn’t really use. So I approached my mom saying “I have to tell you something” and her face went white and she said “oh my God did you have sex?” and I was like ? n0 ????????????

Floating down a stream of consciousness, I’m still too young to feel old because growing up is like warm water and it’s good for the soul. Your eyes went wide with wonder as our evening went dark. Way above the treetops in the park, my heart beat blood and thunder and I tasted daydreams on your lips like rock candy, pure fire. Pour me a milk snow fairytale under the trapdoor.

The hobbyhorse melts like honey on the back of a hot photograph and I remember keeping animals under my mom’s library table. It’s not that I don’t love looking back, I love basement rooms and computers on card tables and nerf wars and the Aliens soundtrack. It’s just that Mr. Ellis wears a rug and Martin drinks Tabasco sauce at some chick’s wedding anniversary and my legs get hot when I’m in the air and I wanna curl up in my suitcase and torch the place because the bills are new and they hurt. There wasn’t a bomb under city hall so don’t panic. You. Are. Wonderful.

This was before I woke up in a van in St. Louis with an ice chandelier of crystal shards in my ureter and nobody checked the shower before I hit my head on the couch. I just laughed at King Kong when Samson ripped apart my 92 year old grandfather who looks like a rotten banana. Feeling pensive, are we? Time is boring and weird.

You will always be who you are until life changes the locks on your heart and the roof leaks rain. Gotta fix that.

I was raised pretty much entirely without peer group interaction as a child and I’m a pretty extensive childhood abuse and neglect survivor, and I’m also one of the incredibly rare cases of “just leave” working in any way shape or form. And you know what? It was still awful!

When I was 16 I got a job and when I was 17 I bought a plane ticket out of my parents’ lives. I flew back to a state I’d lived in before but into an entirely unfamiliar area. I still remember the insane amount of guilting I went through before getting on the plane. My dad spent a lot of time crying about how no one had ever done anything wrong and he didn’t understand why I was leaving while his mother ignored me for weeks and I walked on eggshells with everyone I knew in my little town because everyone thought I was making the wrong decision. My mom would send me pages long emails about why I should wait two or three years, why I shouldn’t tear my dads family apart (funny because I’d only been with him two years at that point).

Even though I was buying groceries and necessities for myself, even though I was at that point nearly financially and socially independent, they spent three weeks between me buying a plane ticket and leaving doing everything in their power to manipulate me into staying.

I was one of the lucky ones; I got through that, I managed to get away. A lot of people in my circumstance wouldn’t be able to, I’m not sure how I managed beyond sheer terror and adrenaline. I’m the lucky one who hasn’t had to fall back on too much of my parents’ financial stability or housing after I managed to escape (and that’s another huge issue for escaped abuse victims!: the fear of having to ask for help from someone who hurt you because holy shit is it hard to make a living when you’re an abuse survivor!) but many people aren’t. I’m lucky in that I have friends and a partner who have helped with the fall out of coming out of an abusive situation, which there was a lot of.

Leaving isn’t as easy as “just leave” for abuse victims, even if you’re lucky enough to find work and housing away from your abusers and get there without being guilted into staying. It comes with a massive host of issues, fears, anxieties.

Submitter asked to remain anonymous.

The first record I bought? An Arabic record, classic Arabic music. Not that I bought with my own money – I went to the store with my dad, but I was actually there getting the record in my hands. And I remember listening to Donna Summer a lot, when I was about four years old. My mom had one of her albums, I think Bad Girls. And I loved that music. I still do. You know, that is the kind of music that never dies, that will never sound dated. You can still listen to it and feel like dancing.

2

I still remember sitting in Sports Chalet telling my mom I never planned on making it to see the age of 25. I was 18, I didn’t know why I was so miserable or unhappy, I just knew I was on a road of self destruction that could and would only result in a premature death. She walked away crying, I walked away confused as to why anyone would want to live past 25. 

Three years later, at the age of 21, I discovered the term transgender. I know, it sounds like the textbook realization–but its just how it went down. Since that day, I gained a small sense of hope. It wasn’t enough to save me, but it was enough to keep me going. A couple months later, I started testosterone–it was that–a simple hormone that allowed me to see that a future was possible. I realized the reason why I didn’t want a future wasn’t because I didn’t want happiness, it was because i didn’t find it worth it to invest in a life that constantly and consistently felt trapped in its own skin. Once I began to pass, once I began to transform, I felt myself breaking free. I felt myself allowing happiness in. I felt myself starting to invest in myself. 

At around the same time, my grades drastically changed. I went from barely passing community college, to eventually transferring out with a 3.4 and getting accepted to each and every college I applied for. I chose UCSD knowing I would be applying to UCLA for medical school in the future. Why? Because I could finally say that Cayden Carter has a future. 

Here I am, 3 years later, fucking graduating. 

Note to self: Hey Cayden, thank you for never giving up. I know there were so many times you wanted to, but thank you for allowing us to have this moment. 

2

Today was cloudy and sad. I guess it wasn’t really too sad. But the sky was sad. I haven’t had much energy and everything has been hurting. I was going to hang out with him after school, but something ended up coming up.
In school I don’t remember much except for all the bad. People making fun of me. People making fun of my art. People being mean. Telling me I need to talk to people I have no intentions of talking to. Telling me I’m incredibly mean. It’s sucked. My sprained ankle is better, even after falling in the mud.
Even though I didn’t get to spend time with him, I still had a good time after school. I went to the store with my mom and got a pretty yellow shirt, and a book to write in. I like going to the store with her. It’s just nice.
I’ve been stressed out over essays and homework and almost failing grades (IN ONLY STUPID SCIENCE EVERYTHING ELSE IS ABSOLUTELY FINE! A+’s!) but hhh all will be better soon hopefully.
I fell icky, and I miss him. 3-20-17

The Magic Trick (Flash Fiction #368)

Magic is real. Mom and Dad didn’t think so. They used to think that magic was fake, a hoax, a trick. They didn’t believe me when I said that I could make my baby brother disappear.

They laughed at me as I put him on the floor, drooling and slobbering, and dropped his blanket over him. And they exchanged looks when I said the four words that Grandpa had taught me in the woods. I still remembered them.

But, they weren’t dazzled when he went silent.

It was only after I had pulled the blanket off of him that they were amazed. Dad and Mom gasped at the red floor and the bones and the pink skin left in his place. I smiled. Success! They were so enthralled that they screamed!

Magic is real.

But, Grandpa always loved the dark kind.

Want More: http://evanthenerd83.tumblr.com/post/157875079476/march-2017-story-index

This was my very first cosplay back in 2012. I remember being so proud of it at the time, even though now I’m cringing so badly. But let me tell y’all a little story about this cosplay. I had so much support while building Luffy. The wig was from a friend - a birthday present when she heard about Luffy. The hat was a birthday present from my mom. The rest was mostly repurposed. I went with a friend and she did the (almost nonexistent) makeup I had on. It’s now been 5 years since I finished my Luffy cosplay, and I’ve learned so much about cosplay and conventions since then. Just remember to never give up! I got my photo taken maybe 2 times that year, and I was pretty bummed out. But I was still so happy to be at a convention. So don’t worry! It gets better! You grow and gain more skills year by year and costume by costume.

anonymous asked:

25, 18

25. Do you prefer to use pen or pencil?

Mostly mechanical pencil, but I like doing lineart in pen.

18. Tell us about an early childhood memory.

An early childhood memory huh? As far as my childhood memories go, they’re extremely foggy. I haven’t been able to remember a bunch of stuff about my childhood for a long time now. Bits and pieces do stick out though, so I’ll share one of them.

My mom had to travel for work a lot. So, by extension, I traveled a lot. I wish I remembered any of the places we went, but what I did remember was the airports.

I adored the airports. I remember the excitement of being able to fly in the air, the scent of the airport itself, somehow still smelling chemical despite the numerous people. I remember the shops selling as seen on TV toys, particularly a little mechanical weasel ball, that would roll around and make it look like the toy weasel was chasing it. I remember the candy, foreign and interesting. My favorite we’re happy hippos, little wafer hippos filled with chocolate cream.

My childhood is unclear most of the time. But there are little tidbits that I remember with startling clarity, even all these years later.

anjawritingsx  asked:

So I went to Pandemonium last night. Yeah probably shouldn't have done that 😂 Remember how I fell two weeks ago with my bike and bruised my left leg? It was getting better, there was still a bruise and it felt quite swollen but didn't hurt anymore. So we were at the dance floor when this dude was being inappropriate towards me and my friend and he got a little angry. And kicked me right against my left leg. So now my mom is taking me to the doctors tomorrow. 😧

Magnus - Are you sure it was my club? I put wards up against violence…

Build-A-Bear

Summary: Just a pleasant day spent with your love, Taehyung- and his unique idea for a date.

Type: Fluff

Member: Taehyung x Reader

Length: 1730 words

I went to a Build-A-Bear Workshop when I was really young. I remember to this day what mine looked like. He was a cute little duck with a pink shirt and jean shorts (don’t judge me). And one day my mom gave him away without my knowledge. I was destroyed, and it still haunts me that she gave him away without me in mind! Anyways… I suppose some of this was from my memory. I hope you enjoy (:

-Admin Gray

Originally posted by beatriceindre

“Wake up, wake up, wake up! Let’s go, we don’t have all day, Sunshine!”

You grumbled, flipping over in bed and slowly falling back to sleep. You thought that he had given up, that he had decided to leave you alone, but you were wrong, of course. Knowing Taehyung for three years had been an amazing experience, and being best friends with him for two of them had their ups and downs. The last year had been unforgettable as his girlfriend, yet you always wondered where his outrageous ideas stemmed from, and you often questioned how he could be energetic at the most random times.

Keep reading

This is why I think of you.
I am cruising down the highway with the windows rolled down.
That taco place is still open; they painted it lime green.
It’s strange that the places we used to haunt are still alive when we have been dead for so long.
My mom went to the hospital today. EKG.
No sweating. Chewing aspirin.
This is why I think of you.
I remember you as you were: young, paper thin.
Like ice when it starts to thaw.
You were beautiful and broken, a perfect
Sentence without punctuation.
You drove your dad to the hospital.
Counted cracks in a ceiling in the waiting room.
I always hated waiting. Remember that?
They hooked my mom up to the EKG.
Everything’s fine. She’s so pretty tired.
I’m tired. Fuck that taco place, man,
And fuck the fact that I think about it always,
Like when I’m starving and craving lemonade
Or mini golf sundaes and seasalt waves,
And fuck the fact that I had a summer love
To compare to other loves, and this kind of love
Is the kind of love that makes you wonder why
People don’t stay when things make total sense
And why people don’t call back when all you
Want to do is say, “This is why I think of you.”
Because the sun set over the marina
Was sparkling red and orange
Like when I used to drive home from Wildwood,
And I stared at that goddamn bottle of Bayer
For decades until the sun went down
And I was in my kitchen, in the dark,
Thinking about how it felt to watch you
Wake up, fall asleep, laugh, walk, sigh,
Almost cry, never cry, roll your eyes,
Tell me sorry, take it back, fall asleep,
Wake up, find your clothes, disappear.

This is why I think of you:
Because the footprints we left behind
Are still here, where I can see them,
Even when our bodies have disappeared.

—  my mom went to the hospital and it reminded me of that one time with you, and I keep wondering why you visit me in dreams because I’m sure I’ve only made up the good times in my head, Jenn Carmen

It’s a fun movie, the box said. It’s a classic adventure about friendship, the box said. They’re going on an adventure, the box said. THE BOX JUST LEFT OUT THE HEARTBREAKING AGONY CHILDREN EVERYWHERE WENT THROUGH SEEING THIS. I still remember watching this scene and losing it as a four year old and screaming for my mom, who’d left the room. Speaking of:

In this modern AU Tiffin is very much alive and well. Also Anduin is wearing a Steven Universe shirt and his T-Rex is a stuffed Rex from Toy Story. (ANOTHER HEARTBREAKING MOVIE) I’ve thought about Anduin’s reactions to childhood movies before, but with Jurassic World out now, I kept thinking about his reaction to Land Before Time. I feel like as soon as Tiffin was within a foot of the room, Anduin would’ve power leaped into her arms and there’d be an instant need for a group hug.

both of my parents immigrated to the states after the vietnam war; my mom because her dad was a police officer for south vietnam (and he and his family was going to be sent for reeducation), and i don’t know specifically about my dad (the rest of his family is still in vietnam).  i went to a small private school where most of the kids were white, and i grew up wishing i had blond hair and blue eyes because that’s what i was socialized to believe was beautiful.  i remember once i came home crying because the kids kept making fun of my flat nose, and my dad tried to cheer me up by saying, “well at least your nose doesn’t look like a pig’s” and made these snorting noises.  they used to make fun of my vietnamese name, to a point where it’s hard for me to say even to this day (and god dang it I am tired of being asked “what’s your real name?”).

when i was in middle school, we had to take a u.s. history class and we were learning about government and citizenship tests.  my dad had just passed his citizenship test – i helped him study for the test for weeks, and i was so so excited for him.  so i raised my hand and said, super proud, “my dad just passed his citizenship test!”  and one kid asked, “who said that?” and everyone looked at me and started laughing.  and i was embarrassed and thought oh my god maybe that’s not something i should be proud of.  and i shouldn’t have been embarrassed, but kids are cruel and i was already embarrassed for not fitting in with everyone else.

i wish i could go back and tell myself to be proud, to ignore the ignorance, to love my culture (and myself!!) as much as i do today.

So I wanted to draw Arte with her parents and I remembered that it’s mentioned in the Mahariel origin that the parents die when the warden is young but I didn’t remember how young until I went to the wiki and saw that dad died before hshe was born and mom only lived long enough to deliver her..so obviously she didn’t know them AT ALL but I still wanted to draw them together as a comparison so here’s a sad family pic..