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unicorn-sprinkles-101 · 5 years

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I'm an autistic, mentally ill young adult who very desperately needs to find a new place to live.

I can't exactly recount what happened during most of my childhood but I have to say that my parents have drastically spiraled out of control since then.

My mother had never really been a big impact on my life other than being my primary guardian and taking me from place to place. Other than that, she has little to no emotional connection to me and especially not now. I don't really "hate" anyone listed here, I just don't care for my family anymore and don't want anything to do with any of them.

My mother is completely unable to work, relying mostly on disability since I was a baby due to an ongoing condition. My father refuses to get a better job to support my mother and I, often leaving us with around $5-$10 at a for gas money (often with tons of quarters) or to take with me when it is absolutely required.

Now that I've turned 18, things have gotten much harder when it comes to me being used for financial gain. I do admit that alot of that money was used towards me in some way or another while I was growing up, but not anymore.

While my father is unable to let go of grandmother's old house (which has gone to shambles), one of my mother's friends has lives under us in the basement after being rendered homeless, which can make akward when describing family troubles.

She started living with us a while ago after her trailer finally caved in after we packed water jugs back and forth to her location for several years.

Ever since she moved here, she's developed an overbearing attachment to her "animals". It got so bad she refused time and time again to put her very ill 16-year-old dog to sleep, rendering them unable to walk, see, eat or hear for months on end. The breaking point was when they bled out all over the kitchen (which we knew would happen eventually), which was traumatic for us and highly unnecessary for the dog to go through considering how miserable they were when they came here.

She has made tons very rude and hurtful comments to me about how I'm such an "abuser" when I told her dogs (she has 3) to go away or get off the couch in front of her. She often claims that I'm abusive towards my guinea pigs, saying that I don't "take care of [my] animals".

This friend of my mother has also made comments ranging from my weight to my behavior and called me names ranging from "brat" to the more recent "trashy white girl" while my mother rolls her eyes and tells me it was all just a joke.

She's physically done things towards me such as shoving me out of the way, crushing me on the bed, and almost hauling a foot tall scratching post towards my direction after I refused to get her a broom the second she demanded it (I ended up getting it for her anyway.

However, physical altercations between me and my mom's friend are very rare and this type of behavior is often seen as the norm in my area, so unless it's something that left bruises or sexual assault, it isn't really that big of a deal compared to the other stuff I face on a daily basis.

It only got worse after I graduated from highschool. It got so bad that it became worse than all of the countless harassment I faced throughout my highschool education combined.

I was forced to give up over 3/4s of my $700 worth of graduation money to my mother in order to pay off bills, food, and other neccessities. While I ended up snagging some small gifts for myself (apx. $120) before it was all sucked up, I know I'll probably never be able to get paid back that amount of money from either one of them and I feel extremely cheated as a result.

While I was legitimately excited to see them grow as people in a good home, my sister's kids have drastically changed for the worse ever since they've been shoved in a tiny old trailer and moved back to the classic small town community full of people with money (maybe extracurriculars will keep them busy).

The youngest of them (8), who is often dumped here on a daily basis, has disrespected us in a variety of ways including: eating at the computer after my mom's friend made a rule not to, not picking up after themselves when they did so (often leaving uneaten food out), and using every other dollar my mom had to go get candy and drinks from the Dollar Store (they stole my leftover change in front of me and lied about it, but that was a one-time occurrence).

The back room often smells like trash because my mother puts off going to the dump until the very last minute.

Nobody can keep up with the animals, use a flyswatter on the cat to keep it from climbing everything and having to lock it up so it wouldn't take the food straight off our plates while we were eating.

While two of the dogs from my mom's friend stay downstairs in the basement, the third one stays up here and refuses to go downstairs.

The dog is well-behaved (aside from agressive barking) but while it doesn't pee anywhere in the house (as far as we know), it appears to leave, traces of leftover urine on pillows, blankets, and the furniture (or at least the odor, although I felt small wet spots on the couch before) which could spread germs, not good for someone with a few open sores.

None of them use leashes, so when this dog bursts out the door it takes off up the street aggressively barking at everyone and everything, with little to no repercussions from either adult. The overly intense noise from this small dog has gotten way out of hand, making me a nervous wreck.

These two stress factors combined with everything else makes it impossible to keep the house clean by nearly any means (I'm doing my best just to sweep off the porch).

I'm grateful that my mom's friend took one last shot at trying to clean up the bedroom, but there's no point in trying to keep anything kept up when all it does is get destroyed.

Moving to my own place means I won't have to look after anyone else but me and my pets (guinea pigs). However, I don't have anyone to support me in my endeavors.

As my parents often failed to attend my physical and emotional needs, I became highly unstimulated and constantly stressed as a result. This has lead to severe bouts of depression and executive dysfunction, which has caused my mom's friend's harassment to get even worse.

Not only did they fail to properly take care of my needs all throughout highschool, we've never been able to afford ANY sort of renovations to the house during our residence here (about 8 years), aside from basic roofing which was performed by a small Hispanic business instead of a professional company.

The only two instances of DIY fix-ups I can remember during my 8 years here are replacing the shattered windows with plexiglass (which happened years ago) and recently restoring some of the rotten floorboards under the washer that were caked in mold.

The simple act of taking a shower has now become one of my worst dreaded nightmares and unless I move to a safe environment then I won't ever be able to properly take care of myself like I dream of doing someday.

Even though it'll take top surgery to make me feel comfortable taking showers again, moving to an inspected apartment means I have one less worry about falling through the basement and the rancid smell of burnt urine that sometimes reeks from the basement.

I never went outside much, aside from sitting on the corner of the porch since the rest of it was turned green by air conditioning water and the walkway was flooded by overgrown plants (even they've been given more respect than I have).

I often vented through various social platforms but I decided that enough is enough: I needed to grow as a person and stop shoving all my problems on others.

It was then I knew I had to find a way to escape. Unfortunately, in order to move out I needed at least a little bit of stable funding, which I'm very, very far from.

My sensory issues make it hard to gain interests in whatever food was cooked (ex. spaghetti, dumplings), and I didn't have the desire to eat expired canned greens from the food bank, which have since been covered in roach poo. They're pretty much everywhere you go.

Even the cleanest of countertops could be seen crawling with a few roaches. They reside deep within the microwave along with fried maggots from ages ago.

They have also made their way into the refrigerator, making it difficult to scour what little there is without feeling grossed out. It's getting harder day by day to tell the difference between of the smallest of bugs and pepper. Since we we can't afford a closed-top hamper, our dirty clothes are often covered in roaches trying to find a place to hide, making it difficult to gather the strength to wash them like I should.

They've also taken over my computer, rendering my unable to even touch it for months.

No amount of bombing, traps, or pesticides will clear them either. They were there to begin with, and they always come back.

There's even been an increase in other types of bugs, most notably fly's and gnats.

The Crock-Pot would often fill up with mold every other week because me and my mother didn't like chowing down on her friend's grand "homestyle cooking" every day.

We didn't eat it as much as we should've because it was often bland in taste and we don't know how to make her stop (I know I can't). She ended up making a fuss when we tried to make suggestions, so we let her get what she wants even if it wasting precious ingredients we could've used to make something we could actually eat.

To make up for it, I often had to buy single cans of Spaghettio's at a time from the Dollar Store and call it my meal for the day.

Now it seems like I can't even do THAT anymore.

It got to the point where I even considered that any drink besides water, hell even soda, could have some sort of nutritional value. It was better that eating nothing, after all.

I often pondered mother's financial choices when came to these things but as we all have been told "mother knows best" and we as children should not be allowed to question our parent's decision.

She recently told me my SSI completely cut because the government labels me as "being able to work". It turns out that they cut my disability check as opposed to SSI but I'm still left just as broken inside as before.

Why? Because there's absolutely no way I can save up such a large amount, we need every last drop to survive off of. I've used a very small portion of it to buy some little stuff to help me cope from time to time, but I'm gonna refrain from that from now on until I completely move out.

Even though the issue has been resolved for now, I'm tired of being dragged through hoops when I know they'll just try to cut it off again. I can't keep staying here because I'm sick and tired of having our only source of income dangling on a string.

I would really like to gain some much needed work experience and I plan on applying to Wal-Mart as soon as I upload this post.

However, there's one problem: I have no source of reliable transportation to get to my job.

My mother had to borrow money off of my grandmother (as she has done in the past) in order to have the gas to pick me up from therapy this week. While that tank of gas may last a bit, this is not sustainable enough for me to keep any sort of job regardless if it were part-time or full-time. The three job options in this very small town don't offer a position that would be comfortable enough for me to perform the tasks I am assigned and two are often known for mistreating their staff members on a regular basis.

Another reason I want to get a job in a bigger city is so I can continue to work once I move closer to Wal-Mart, which will save tremendous amounts of gas money and time. To avoid the trauma of driving, I will probably be using a transport bus as opposed to using a car.

The reason it appears that I don't look after my guinea pigs as much as I should is because their cages are inaccessible making it excruciatingly difficult to clean their cages and fufill their needs. With my own apartment to live in, I will have the ability make room for them and I can organize a place for my piggies in a much more open location free of mess.

I'd really like to keep them with me when I move alone, especially considering that I adopted one all the way from Louisville (I live around the west side of KY). I want to give Marlene the proper life she deserves after traveling across the state to take her beautiful soul home with me.

While I probably won't have access to a small animal veterinarian to get a proper diagnosis, my older guinea pig Chloe (about 4 years) had a massive tumor/cyst on her leg burst open a while back.

Her weight has drastically increased to the point where she feels like a limp water balloon when I attempt to pick her up, so it lead me to assume that her body is slowly being taken over by some form of internal cancer.

Even though there's nothing I can do to heal her, my ultimate wish is for Chloe to drift away peacefully in a safe environment free of bugs and other filth. This means that not only do I have myself to care for, but my two precious babies as well.

I admit that I have been going through a slow regression in regards to financial behavior, but I would love to learn how to shop responsibly while keeping my true interests at heart. I have plenty of plushies and figurines to keep me company at the moment. Some I'll sell to make room for new ones, but most of them will there to comfort me during stressful times.

After buying one of the most beautiful children's lamps I had ever seen at GoodWill, I soon found out that buying doesn't have to be boring and dull like all the adults have told us all our lives. I learned that you should buy furniture and clothes based on how it makes you feel instead of relying on others to tell you what to do, I would love to purchase decorations for my apartment that reflect who I want to become as a person.

Not everything should have to be about scrounging for my next meal.

However, the funds from this will go towards covering down-payment, rental costs, and buying a new setup for my guinea pigs if they are allowed at the apartment (I don't want to track bugs from the old cages, plus they need a bigger space).

I wanted to let you guys know that I will have to use a portion of the donations

to cover my mother's monthly electric bill. As much as I want to talk myself out of it, she literally relies on me for money so I don't exactly have the ability to opt-out of that right now.

The extra stuff (such as small appliances, furniture, groceries, and of course... a limited-edition plush or two) will be paid for using a compilation of my paycheck and whatever I earn off of Redbubble.

I'd love to start a YouTube channel where I do things like art, gaming, and reviews to strengthen my voice and get it out into the world in a peaceful, sanitary environment free from interruptions or harassment over a seemingly innocent/important subject matter.

There's lots of things that I missed out on when I was younger and I bet it would be so awesome to finally express myself free of constant toxicity and hatred.

I deeply love OK K.O. and I'd love to honor the impact that this person of color and his creation has left on me someday, as well as continue down my path of original content that I've been waiting to share with you guys!

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askauradonprep · 5 years

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About That Super Long Playlist

Long information post behind the cut! It’s pretty much the songs in the stages of the crew’s relationship.

First Round of Recruiting

1 What About Us 2 At the End of the Day 3 How Far I’ll Go 4 Brave 5 Anthem of a Runaway 6 Come Back (Ella Eyre) 7 She Got the Best of Me 8 Glad You Came 9 You Walked In 10 You’re Beautiful 11 You Don’t Know Me 12 Enchanted 13 Felt Good On My Lips 14 Girl Crush 15 Crashed 16 Do It For Her 17 Who Are You When I’m Not Looking 18 Wildest Dreams 19 Started With a Song

Rise to Power

20 You and Me 21 Bad Reputation 22 Playing With the Big Boys 23 I Bring the Darkness (End of Days) 24 Warrior 25 Let It Go

Descendants 2

26 What’s My Name 27 Here Comes the Thunder 28 One Way or Another 29 Greatest Show on Earth 30 The Edge of Glory 31 One Day More 32 Dyin’ Ain’t So Bad 33 You’re Going Down 34 Hit Me With Your Best Shot 35 Look Down 36 King of Anything 37 Rich 38 Fly 39 It’s Goin’ Down

Uma Leaving

40 Evermore 41 If Only 42 The Winner Takes It All 43 It’s Over Isn’t It

Rough Mental Health Period

44 Supergirl 45 Ring of Fire 46 Monster 47 Little Toy Guns 48 Mayday 49 Cry 50 Bad Day 51 Because of You 52 Burning House 53 Stilettos 54 Out of the Woods 55 Ask Me How I Know 56 Tomorrow 57 Landslide 58 Better Man 59 Done You Wrong 60 Stupid Boy 61 Chasing Pavements

Uma’s Return

62 Girl on Fire 63 Keep Holding On 64 Umbrella 65 Make You Feel My Love 66 If You’re Going Through Hell (Before the Devil Even Knows You’re There) 67 I’ll Stand By You 68 Safe & Sound 69 Dancing On My Own 70 Wanted 71 Innocent 72 Invisible 73 It’s Okay To Cry 74 Break On Me 75 Let It Out 76 Here Comes A Thought 77 She Will Be Loved 78 Everytime

Recovery

79 The Good Stuff 80 My Life Would Suck Without You 81 Just Give Me A Reason 82 For The Long Run 83 Shake It Out 84 I Ain’t Giving Up On You 85 True Colors 86 Every Storm (Runs Out of Rain) 87 Warrior 88 Here’s To Us 89 Little Girl 90 Mine 91 Fly 92 War Paint 93 I Won’t Let Go 94 Clean

Comeback

95 Royals 96 So What 97 Still Not Giving Up 98 Back in Black 99 Bad Blood 100 Angel With a Shotgun 101 Payback 102 Another One Bites the Dust

Second Recruiting Period

103 We’re Going to Be Friends 104 Worth a Shot 105 Enchanted (Owl City)* 106 Break Up In The End 107 I Would’ve Loved You Anyway 108 Replace Your Heart* 109 Come Back Song 110 Let’s Be Us Again 111 All Together Now 112 Jessie’s Girl 113 I’m Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How to Dance With You 114 Both Of You 115 Bury the Hatchet 116 Team 117 Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now 118 I Will Follow You Into the Dark 119 I've Got Your Back* 120 Ain’t No Stopping Us Now

Hooking Up

121 Play It Again 122 Love Will Do That 123 Ready to Run 124 I Don’t Dance 125 Hold My Beer 126 As She’s Walking Away 127 Make You Mine 128 See About A Girl 129 Merry Go ‘Round 130 Johnny & June 131 Somebody to Love 132 She Won’t Be Lonely Long 133 Friday Night

Getting Together Officially

134 History in the Making 135 How to Love 136 Complicated 137 Heart Attack 138 Give Your Heart a Break 139 Strong Enough 140 Good to You 141 What Ifs 142 Yours If You Want It 143 Waterloo 144 Bring It On 145 Best Shot 146 Begin Again

Early Relationship

147 Love Me Like You Mean It 148 Cool With That 149 Just a Kiss 150 (Kissed You) Good Night 151 Feels Like That 152 My Girl 153 You’ve Got to Hide Your Love Away 154 Dress 155 We Danced 156 Secret Love Song 157 The Fighter 158 I Like The Sound of That

Getting in Trouble on the Isle

159 Super Villain 160 Good Girls Go Bad 161 Came Here to Forget 162 Home Alone Tonight 163 Good Together 164 I’ll Be The Singer, You Be The Song 165 Bounty 166 Run 167 Bad Boys 168 Bad Girls

Partying

169 Fix A Drink 170 We’re All Right 171 What Was I Thinkin’? 172 Bonnie and Clyde 173 She’s My Kind of Crazy 174 Toxic 175 It Ain’t My Fault 176 Wild Things 177 Downtown Kids 178 Let’s Get Rowdy 179 Fastest Girl in Town 180 Somethin’ Bad 181 Me Against the Music 182 Somethin’ We Shouldn’t Do 183 Exstacy 184 Criminal 185 Like You Do 186 We Are Young 187 Setting the World On Fire 188 Die Young 189 Anthem 190 Kiss Me Quiet 191 Up All Night 192 Hurricane 193 Perfect Storm

Getting Closer

194 Quiet 195 Easy Silence 196 Soak Up The Sun 197 I Like Me Better 198 I Won’t Say (I’m In Love) 199 If I Ain’t Got You 200 You Are In Love 201 Clarity 202 Count Me In 203 Good Time 204 Halo 205 Just The Way You Are 206 Ours

Descendants 3

207 Not Ready to Make Nice 208 My Lullaby 209 Stronger (Under the Sea)

Getting Invited to Auradon

210 Long Live 211 Hall Of Fame 212 Peter Pan 213 That’s When You Know It’s Over 214 Stronger (What Doesn’t Kill You) 215 Just Like You 216 Wasting All These Tears 217 Since U Been Gone 218 I Wonder 219 Praying 220 If I Die Young 221 A Little Bit Stronger 222 Survivor 223 Be Wherever You Are 224 Anywhere With You 225 We Are the Champions 226 Let It Go (Demi Lovato) 227 Fight Song 228 Eyes Open 229 Change

Dating In Auradon

230 Kiss The Girl 231 Somewhere Only We Know 232 Always the Love Songs 233 They Don’t Know About Us 234 Blank Space 235 Womanizer

Going Public

236 She’s With Me 237 A Guy With A Girl 238 A Place In This World 239 Unforgettable 240 Fearless 241 Skydiving 242 Sparks Fly 243 Dirt Roads Scholar 244 Sunshine On the Line 245 Jumped Right In 246 This Is How We Roll 247 Cruise 248 Wastin’ Gas 249 Fast Cars and Freedom 250 Old Alabama 251 Shotgun Rider 252 400 Lux 253 Parking Lot Party 254 Beat Of the Music 255 L.A. Boyz

Auradon Partying

256 Here For The Party 257 Up All Night 258 Raise Your Glass 259 Last Friday Night (T.G.I.F.) 260 Middle of a Memory 261 Cop Car 262 Crash My Party

Getting to the First ‘I Love You’

263 I’m Only Me When I’m With You 264 Can’t Say No 265 I See The Light 266 I Think I Love You 267 The Only Exception 268 A Thousand Years 269 Criminal 270 You Love Who You Love 271 Girlfriend 272 Hooked 273 I Hope You’re the End of My Story

Being Split Up By Auradon Prep

274 Stay Beautiful 275 One Number Away 276 Thinking ‘Bout You 277 I Hope You Dance 278 Sleepin’ Around 279 Think of You 280 More Than A Memory 281 Picture 282 Hung Up 283 Need You Now 284 I’m Comin’ Over 285 Just To Get To You 286 Hell Bent For Buffalo 287 Warm Safe Place

Feeling Hopeless

288 Like A Cowboy 289 Remind Me 290 Long Live The Night 291 Don’t You Wanna Stay 292 Runnin’ Outta Moonlight 293 Secret Love 294 Carrying Your Love With Me 295 Wherever Love Goes 296 I Could Use A Love Song 297 Colder Weather 298 Red 299 True Love 300 Highway Don’t Care 301 Say You Do

Fixing Things and Reuniting

302 Man in the Mirror 303 Die of a Broken Heart 304 Let’s Not Let It 305 I Won’t Give Up 306 Hey There Delilah 307 Mamma Mia 308 Where We Left Off 309 Stuck Like Glue 310 Style

Post-Reunification Relationship At Auradon Prep

311 Young Forever 312 Somewhere On A Beach 313 Cheap Seats 314 Firecracker 315 Somethin’ Stupid 316 My Best Friend 317 Lucky 318 You Won’t Ever Be Lonely 319 Do It With You 320 I Wanna Dance With Somebody 321 Somebody Like You 322 My Baby Loves Me 323 The Way You Love Me 324 Love Me Like That 325 Love Like You 326 H.O.L.Y.

Post-Graduation Adult Relationship

327 Next Stop, Anywhere* 328 I Hate Love Songs 329 One In A Million 330 Now That I Found You 331 Because You Love Me 332 For You 333 Good Kinda Love 334 Loving You Easy 335 We Found Love 336 We Weren’t Crazy 337 Because You Loved Me 338 Mean To Me 339 The World 340 Alright 341 Doin’ What She Likes 342 Somebody Wrote Love 343 Love Me Like There’s No Tomorrow 344 Yours 345 Hard To Love 346 That Kind of Beautiful 347 Jealous of the Sun 348 Never Comin’ Down 349 This Love 350 I Run To You 351 God Gave Me You 352 All About Her

Proposal and Engagement

353 That’s When You Know 354 Baby, I Love You 355 She’s In Love With the Boy 356 Amazed 357 The Rest of Our Lives 358 Lost In This Moment 359 It’s Your Love 360 Livin’ Our Love Song

Wedding and Honeymoon

361 For Just One Day Let’s Only Think About (Love) 362 Marry Me 363 Are You Gonna Kiss Me Or Not? 364 A Thousand Years Part 2 365 I Do 366 It’s A Beautiful Thing 367 I Got the Boy 368 Hold It Against Me 369 Black 370 I’ll Name The Dogs

Married, Childless Life

371 Your Man 372 No Such Thing As A Broken Heart 373 Come A Little Closer 374 Sky Stays This Blue 375 Dear Life

Kids Being Born

376 It Takes A Man 377 Life Changes 378 You’re Having My Baby 379 Isn’t She Lovely 380 You’re Gonna Be 381 Chasin’ Girls 382 Laughed Until We Cried 383 Who Wouldn’t Wanna Be Me 384 Hey Pretty Girl 385 Who Would You Be

Post-Kids Life

386 Superman 387 I’m Already There 388 Home 389 Woman, Amen 390 Good Morning Beautiful 391 A Woman Like You 392 All of Me 393 She’s Good For Me 394 Forever Love 395 I Walk The Line 396 Forever and Ever, Amen 397 You Make It Easy 398 My Wish 399 In Case You Didn’t Know 400 You’re Still The One 401 Just To See You Smile 402 I’ll Still Love You More 403 If You Ever Stop Loving Me 404 I’ll Always Love You 405 Die A Happy Man 406 Love Like Crazy 407 Remember When

Older Adults, Post Kids Growing Up

408 Moments 409 I Go Back 410 Then 411 I’d Love You All Over Again 412 Still Into You 413 In Color 414 Bless the Broken Road 415 Greatest Love Story

Legacy

416 For Good 417 I Was Here 418 Don’t Blink 419 Forever Rebels 420 Legends

* = Not on Spotify

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hollywayblog · 6 years

Photo

People | Top Film Photos 2017

See: Places | Things

Film photography kept me going this year. It kept me curious and humble, and my hunger for a gorgeous shot led me to a lot of places I would never have seen otherwise.

I’m a writer first, but my words are something I have complete control over. As a perfectionist, this can drive me pretty mental at times; I could spend an eternity combing through a story or blog post changing this or that word and never feel done. While my perfectionist tendencies come out at the editing stage of film making (I don’t really edit my photos unless I have to alter exposure), there is an urgency about capturing a moment that will never come again, having limited film or space on your memory card. When you’re behind the lens, you are capturing something rather than manufacturing it. Even in a controlled shoot, you are still limited by time and tools. Writing can only be limited by your imagination, and while that’s freeing in some ways, it can be terrifying in others.

These visual mediums are creative outlets that allow me to follow my instincts without so much pressure to be perfect. I know I can’t control the weather or the set of someone’s teeth or whether they blink just as I’m pressing the shutter. It doesn’t mean I don’t strive to be better, and I would love to do some planned shoots next year, but I guess because I don’t define myself as a photographer or cinematographer it takes a lot of the pressure off to be revolutionary. I just do what feels right.

But enough about that.

I was going to choose ten photos overall, but that proved to be literally impossible. Instead I’ve chosen thirty overall, divided into three categories. The first is People.

One of my favourite things about taking up this hobby is the beautiful pictures I’ve snapped of my loved ones. I’ve always dreamed of taking photographs that captured the specific energy of a person or a moment, and when I look at these ones I feel like I’ve done that. These are photos I love of people I love.

1. Avalon. Gasometer Hotel, Collingwood, Victoria, Australia. Minolta Dynax 500si. Kodak ULTRAMAX 400.

This girl is a whirlwind in the best kind of way. Interested and interesting. Kind. Spontaneous. Ridiculously beautiful. She’s unlike anyone you’ve ever met; a girl who turns heads wherever she goes and knows it, who isn’t afraid to tell strange men that she’s the CEO of a radical feminist magazine and laughs at their feigned support (she doesn’t care what they think). That very magazine is how we met online; I became a regular contributor and she flattered me when we met in person by telling me that she’d told her workmates “If I fall off this ladder, the magazine goes to Holly Way!”

That night we went to a feminist zine launch that was definitely more of a gay 90s rave and I danced in a club for the first time in years. The photos I took were risky - the girls were dancing and the smoke was thick - but even the blurry ones have an energy to them that I love. Moving subjects will give you some duds, but so much more life in the good ones.

2. Connor. Inverloch, Victoria, Australia. Minolta Dynax 500si. Kodak ULTRAMAX 400.

Connor was so bloody stoked with this view, and I feel so warm when I look at this photo and his huge, genuine smile.

3. Stuart. Squeaky Beach, Wilsons Prom, Victoria, Australia. Minolta Dynax 500si. Kodak Portra 120.

If you want a glimpse of how much I - and the rest of my family - love Stuart you can watch this video I made for him for Christmas. Basically we had only met his British ass once before he moved into our house for twelve weeks. Luckily he turned out not to be a murderer but rather the most lovely, genuine, polite and cheerful dude you’ve ever met. It was devastating when he left - almost a month ago now - but the group chat is still going strong. More importantly, we’ll always have the memories of him reading us A Street Cat Named Bob on Squeaky Beach as the sun went down.

4. Rhiannon. Inverloch, Victoria, Australia. Minolta Dynax 500si. Kodak ULTRAMAX 400.

With the year we’ve had, it’s an indescribable pleasure to see my sister smiling and happy. On this particular day five of us drove to the coast, ate watermelon and baguettes on the beach and just escaped the rising tide at the end of a dusty pink dusk. On the way home we put on my ultimate sing alongs playlist and screeched Tribute and Bohemian Rhapsody at the top of our lungs. What could possibly be better?

5. Rhiannon and Brendan. Blue Rock Dam, Victoria, Australia. Pentax Espio 955, Fuji Superia X-TRA 400.

Another example of moving subjects. An imperfect shot with tangible mood.

6. Stuart. Blue Rock Dam, Victoria, Australia. Pentax Espio 955, Fuji Superia X-TRA 400.

The hour or two we had to ourselves at this outlandishly gorgeous dam are some of my favourite hours of all time. Stuart had a swim and gave us all heart attacks when he brushed up against a branch (thanks bitch) but other than that we were just so... relaxed. Climbing trees, eating, baking in the Aussie heat, telling dumb jokes and having Stuart read to us again. Then a bunch of bogans showed up with their dogs off the lead and disrupted the serenity, but whatever.

7. Beren. Cataract Gorge, Launceston, Tasmania, Australia. Minolta Dynax 500si. Kodak Portra 400.

This photo is from the first colour roll of film I ever shot. We surprised our family by showing up unexpectedly to celebrate Dad’s 50th and stayed for a few days. It was bittersweet as we had just lost our cat, Evie. It was a hard time, but spending those few days with our dad and siblings we rarely get to see made a difference, as did spending time in Tasmania, which has become a beautiful second home to me. I like the composition and natural feel of this photo, and just the fact that it’s one of my favourite people in one of my favourite places.

8. James. Red Wood Forest, Victoria, Australia. Minolta Dynax 500si. Kodak Portra 120.

I have a feeling this was either on or just after Easter, but I really can’t remember. Either way this place was absolutely magical. Even though this photo is blurry (the ISO of this film was not a good fit for a forest on a cloudy day) I just think it’s cool. I love getting action shots of people focusing on something, just natural and in their element. Watching James experiment with the camera has always been one of my favourite things to do. Also, he looks so fucking grown up in this picture.

9. Nienna. Tamar Wetlands, Launceston, Tasmania, Australia. Minolta Dynax 500si. Kodak Portra 120.

Definitely one of my favourite memories from this year; getting up before dawn to catch the sunrise at the wetlands with Dad and Nienna. It’s the kind of thing I’d do way more often if I had a car, as there’s something so beautiful about being at mercy to the cycles of the sun to get your photo. And we weren’t that lucky. It was overcast as hell and we got maybe a few minutes of a few slices of pink sunlight through the clouds. But that didn’t matter. We got photos that felt different than we expected and had a wonderful adventure in the meantime. To be separated from my sister so greatly in both years and distance but still manage to have such a strong bond and so much in common is something I am so, so grateful for.

10. Georgia. Home, Victoria, Australia. Minolta Dynax 500si. Kodak Portra 120.

This photograph makes me feel so many things. I grabbed it while Georgia was reading out a bit of her novel to Rhiannon and I, and it was just a moment that was so close and pure and poignant that I couldn’t help but try and capture it. That connection is what I treasure most about my relationship with Georgia. Ever since we were kids I feel like our bond has been free of judgement and pretense. She’s one of the few people I feel I can be all of my selves with instead of just choosing one suitable side to present. We don’t see each other nearly as much as we should, which makes moments like these all the more special.

What next? Check out the other posts in this series:

Places

Things

And moments | twentyseventeen - a video of moments from this year

#photography #film photography #35mm #35mm film #film #photographer #blogger #blog #writer #writing #writers of tumblr #love #friendship #adventure #travel #family #2017 #art

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southeasternbound · 4 years

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Visit our main website at SoutheasternBound.net. We post history/travel every Monday, then photos/photo tips each Thursday. Please click the Follow button (below right) for updates on Southeastern Bound.

By JD Byous

My father never stopped at the Grand Canyon. My father would — not — stop. Never. Ever. Never-ever… unless of course, he had to use the bathroom and then it was a Whiting Brothers gas station to fill up and find relief. Cruising down Route 66 twice each year I would drool, yearn and whine that we might turn on Route 64 from Williams, Arizona to see the hole in the ground that I’d been told about in school, read about, and wished to visit. Didn’t happen. Not once. The 120-mile round trip would add almost ten percent to our drive to Eastern Oklahoma and the visit with family. His last trip through was to move there, the destination of all of our trips. He died a few years later.

As the sun rolls past the colors change, just like they are advertised to do. Fabulous.

Well…, not really never-ever. I do remember one side trip. We did stop at Meteor Crater after I had hounded for several hours. I wore them down, I guess. That’s another story, however… That was when my mom made a statement that would place a bookmark on my eighth year of life… “It’s nothing but a big hole in the ground.” She actually used an expletive somewhere in the sentence. However, you think about it, she’s right. But, oh, what a hole in the ground. I was hooked on large, naturally excavated terrain with that viewing.

But I digress.

Meteor Crater, just a big… hole that I find fascinating. More to come in another blog.

Fast forward fifty-plus years… Okay, make that almost sixty-plus years. But, I am finally here. As always, time is short, and to make it worse the Beckster and I have some kind of bug. I do not feel like touring, I’d prefer to lay in the motel and whine. But, the road calls. Time dictates and demands, “See it now ‘cause you may not be back for a while… or ever.” So we go.

An odd, pockmarked rock on the south rim.

We leave Sedona in the morning heading out on route 89a and up its famous switchbacks that I dubbed, The Hairpins. The road reminds me of a shoestring. It twists and turns and loops, so crooked that, as my father used to say, “You can see your tail lights as you round the bend.” This road is definitely bendy and loopy, not for the faint of stomach. The Hairpins climb from the junction of Pumphouse Creek and Sterling Canyon then past 6,639-foot, Mexican Pocket Mountain then dumps you onto the long plateau that leads to Interstate 17 and Flagstaff. At Flagstaff, we follow US 180 to Arizona 64 and we are here – two and one-half hours later.

Mather Point Overlook. Nice folks, but one must look beyond the spilled drinks and crowds because the beauty is there. It’s worth it. One look and you forget your immediate surroundings.

We are here. Yes, we are. Along with what appears to be half the population of the Western Hemisphere. At Mather Point, we park at the Visitors Center lot. A short walk and we on the overlook. People are scrambling everywhere… I mean, everywhere. Hanging off of the rails to pose for pictures, on outcrops of rocks to our left… posing for pictures, off of the overlook a few hundred yards to the west… posing for pictures.

Selfie sticks flash in the sunlight looking like a rerun of the battle scene on Braveheart. And, children running everywhere, climbing on rocks, climbing on rails. My inner-parental-self stands, stunned and silent. Coffee or some other brown runny substance rolls from a coffee cup on the concrete path ahead. The aroma of coffee wafts up, affirming the contents. I hope that the Beckster doesn’t get a whiff. We’ll be searching for a McDonalds, because, as you know, they make the best coffee. It’s a Beckster thing.

Looking north from Mather Point Overlook. A man in a red shirt hangs near the edge for a prank photo. It HAD to be a guy in red.

Then it hits me. Blamm! The view. It’s 10 a.m. and past the “sweet” light of the morning and it’s beautiful. No, bad example, exquisite. No, not enough, still. Wow! That works, just, wow! Clouds cover the Northern Rim. Rain falls from the patches of blue and white fluff. The red-orange banding along the mass of mesas, cliffs, and side canyons are like a light show in rock. Grab a camera. I alternate between DSLR and smartphone. It’s hard to get a bad shot. I am impressed. I am really impressed. I wish my parents were here. They should see this. They would have liked this big hole.

Looking northwest from the South Rim.

Rain over the Grand Canyon.

Duck Rock is a well-known overlook on the South Rim.

A raven squawked at me for taking his picture. I think he wanted money.

Rain falls over the North Rim. We stay dry.

The afternoon sun changes the mesas and ridges into a paper cut out collage.

The clouds move and the colors change again.

Mary Colter’s Desert View Watchtower marks the end of the view sites on the South Rim Drive.

We no longer feel ill. Somehow the bad has been erased so we point our pickup east along the rim drive. As the sun climbs and the clouds move the scene changes. I had read how the colors change with the day. Oh, my God, what have you done here? This is beyond words. Each turnout and overlook has its own phenomenal view. At one stop, a raven poses for me, then squawks a rebuke when I’ve overstayed my welcome. We move on. If I were shooting film we would have burned through several hundred dollars in emulsion and processing fees. Man, I love digital.

Navajo Jewelry shop Navajo Reservation

Before we know, we arrive at the Desert View Visitor Center, the end of the line. The views and the images are still great. Just one more picture and we need to head back. We’ve burned through the entire day. Down the road we make one more stop, a Navajo jewelry stand. Here a Viet Nam veteran and his wife offer beaded jewelry, dream catchers and pottery. As the sun drops low it is cold so we keep moving, but after buying gifts for the kids and grandkids and earrings for the Beckster. Oh, and something for me, a stone circle pendant. I like it. It’s made by nice people, or at least sold by them. I wish we had time to stay and talk but the road calls.

Mary Colter’s Desert View Watchtower marks the end of the view sites on the South Rim Drive.

It is a great day. I am ready for a nap but we still have to drive the Hairpins after dark. The Grand Canyon? I will be back.

Too bad Dad couldn’t be here.

My father never stopped. The Grand Canyon. Never. Ever. Never-ever... unless of course he had to use the bathroom. Cruising down Route 66 twice each year I would drool, yearn and whine that we might turn on Route 64.. Visit our main website at SoutheasternBound.net. We post history/travel every Monday, then photos/photo tips each Thursday.

#art #Family #humor #nature #photography #travel #USA #vacation

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annygaul · 4 years

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I have been baking a lot lately (I know, how original). Usually this means I’m making either my run-of-the-mill sourdough loaf (following this excellent primer from the Kitchn) or this evergreen Smitten Kitchen buckle, swapping in whatever fruits are in season –– it is a particularly great way to use up the sad apples at the bottom of your fridge –– and substituting different spices based on pairings I find in Niki Segnit’s indispensable The Flavor Thesaurus. This week was a pear & blueberry buckle with cardamom and ginger.

Lately though, because I am only eating bread I make at home, my container of sourdough discard (a yeasty mix of flour and water that I add to whenever I feed my active starter) is growing by the day and I thought I would try something new. And so recently in preparation for an appearance on Tony Tahhan‘s wonderful #TetaThursdays Instagram Live series, I set about experimenting with techniques and recipes for making khobz ʿarabi (literally, Arabic bread, aka pita bread) using only discarded sourdough as the leavening agent.

If you are longing for fresh khobz ʿarabi and have some sourdough discard handy, this is the recipe for you! No yeast required; recipe & details after the jump. (I’m still working on capturing great images of this recipe, but in the meantime enjoy this gorgeous shot from Tony’s IG page!)

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A post shared by Antonio Tahhan طوني طحّان (@antoniotahhan) on May 9, 2020 at 3:26pm PDT

Sourdough Khobz ʿArabi

Ingredients:

For eight round loaves

120 grams warm water 240 grams sourdough starter discard 360 grams bread flour 1 tablespoon olive oil 1 teaspoon salt

A few notes My starter is made with wheat flour, so I kept the rest of the flour mix white. Each time I did this, I was using starter that had been fed in the past week or two, but was not especially fresh. In terms of how hot the water should be, I aim for a temperature that is not too hot to the touch on the back of your hand for ten seconds, but then feels too hot after that time. It’s a rule I learned when I first starting baking on a NOLS course 15 years ago and it’s never steered me wrong.

Directions

1. Mix all ingredients together in a mixing bowl until a shaggy dough forms. Transfer to a stand mixer and mix with the dough hook for 10 minutes. You can also knead by hand; the goal is to get your dough to pass the “windowpane test.” This is essential to ensuring that once the bread bakes and cools it holds together without cracking or breaking apart (pictured below: the chewy consistency we’re going for!).

2. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap or a damp towel and let it rise 6-8 hours (the dough should double in size).

3. Divide into eight pieces and roll them lightly into balls. At this point you can either dust them with flour and tuck them away in the fridge for up to 3 days, or you can simply cover them with a damp clean towel and let them rest for an hour.

The fridge technique develops the flavor and texture and also makes the loaves slightly easier to handle when you roll them out. But you can do without! If you are storing in the fridge, you can wrap them individually in plastic wrap or bags, or nestle each ball of dough in a muffin pan then cover the whole thing with plastic. If you have chilled the dough in the fridge, let it rest for an hour or two at room temperature, covered to keep it from drying out, before moving to the next step.

4. Roll the balls of dough into thin rounds (lightly dusting the surface you’re working on helps). This is, for me, the hardest part. You really want the dough to be flat (no thicker than a quarter inch) and as even as possible. For me this was the step that was trickiest (and least successful) when I began and started to improve after I worked through several batches; it’s one of those things best learned by doing. I used a combination of flattening gently by hand and then finishing with a rolling pin, trying not to handle the dough too much to leave it as even and intact as possible.

5. Once rolled out, let the rounds sit, covered again with a clean damp towel, for another hour or two. Meanwhile preheat your oven as high as it can go, aiming for somewhere around 550 degrees F. Preheat a baking surface along with the oven: you can use a baking tray/cookie sheet for this, but my best results have been with a cast iron pan. I have heard pizza stones work well too, though I don’t own one.

6. Once your rounds are rested and the oven preheated, place them one at a time on your baking surface, turning over each one so that the side that was resting face down on the countertop is face up in the oven. This is a tip I heard from numerous experienced bakers and I think it does make a difference.

The bread is finished when it puffs up into a pocket. For me this generally takes only between 60 and 90 seconds, so keep an eye on it! Wait until it has fully inflated before removing it from the oven.

7. Once the bread is done baking, wrap it in a clean dry towel placed on a cooling rack. You can stack the loaves together. Cooling this way helps keep them from drying out.

A bit about process & rationale

Most sourdough recipes for khobz ʿarabi or pita bread either call for commercial yeast or for very fresh, bubbly starter, so my goal here was to develop a recipe that didn’t require yeast (hard to find these days) and could function with only leftover/discarded starter as a leavening agent. My main tasks were to develop a recipe for the dough and then to learn as much of the technique as possible for preparing and baking it.

I began with this recipe to get a sense of rough proportions, and it turned out ok but not spectacular: the finished loaves were prone to breakage, didn’t always puff up in the beautiful pocketed form I was hoping for, and didn’t always retain a nice chewy texture upon cooling. But it was a good starting place in terms of ratios and I adjusted from there.

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Introducing Umm Kulthum (أم كلثوم), my sourdough starter #ifyouknowyouknow Swipe right for the time-lapse! . . * Thanks @madebysaba for the AMAZING illustration! * Thanks @loaf_bakehouse for the sourdough starter tutorial! * Thanks @razan_graphics for the beautiful artwork inspiration!

A post shared by Antonio Tahhan طوني طحّان (@antoniotahhan) on Apr 20, 2020 at 5:52pm PDT

On advice from Tony, who was also working on recipes (along with his starter Umm Kulthum, pictured here) and reading up on all the best practices in sourdough, I decided I wanted to work towards a recipe with 1) measurements by weight, in the form of baker’s percentages, and 2) a slightly wetter dough, which should help maximize steam and gluten –– important for that puff of the pocket.

I also really wanted a set of ratios I could remember without writing them down. After a few batches I settled on a recipe by weight that called for one part water to two parts starter to three parts flour (1-2-3!).

Next was figuring out the little tips and tricks that produce the right kind of bread. This one is not easy –– everything has to be just right for the bread to expand into a pocketed round in the oven and cool off while staying chewy and tasty. Most of my experience with this kind of flatbread was from watching Moroccan bakers make it at home, either in wood burning outdoor ovens or on a griddle, so the physics of this bread were entirely new to me.

I relied heavily on this helpful list of rules and asked for lots of advice from folks who’d made oven-based khobz ‘arabi before (h/t Marya Hannun for her advice!). I also took some great tips about technique from a discussion on my Facebook page (h/t to Tylor Brand for the suggestion about refrigerating the dough), and my mom suggested the muffin tin trick for resting the dough in the fridge.

A few questions I have moving forward and variations I’ll be trying out in the coming days: how much wheat flour is too much? What other flours might work? How does regular white flour compare to bread flour?

Depending on the humidity of the day and timing I also often found my loaves were drying out a bit, so next time around I may experiment with storing and rolling them out with the help of a very light amount of olive oil rather than a dusting of flour.

Thanks to everyone who helped me test drive this bread, and please let me know in the comments if you have any tips, improvements, or questions. A particular thank you to Tony for inviting me to join #TetaThursdays and providing crucial assistance while developing the recipe!

Want to make khobz ʿarabi (aka pita bread) but only have sourdough starter on hand? This recipe is for you! No commercial yeast required. I have been baking a lot lately (I know, how original). Usually this means I'm making either my run-of-the-mill sourdough loaf (following…

#flatbread #khobz arabi #quarantine baking #sourdough #TetaThursdays #Tony Tahhan #yeast

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hamminnam · 6 years

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So, my apologies about the teaser from before. I know that it is cruel to you who check this page every day to tell you it’s up and running again, then to post nothing. If you need that daily Hamm/Nam fix, find me on Instagram. I don’t know how, just do it.

So. Long story. Aren’t they all? If ‘Nam is involved there needs so much processing time and so much backsplaining (kids do say that these days, don’t they?) that every little quip seems to be a bit ‘extra’ (now, I’m sure the kids are saying that one). As mentioned, my return this time is like a birthday, so you might see this story as one of rebirth. You may recall the first beginning, where I detailed the steps of how I ended up being the freshest prince of a town called Thu Dau Mot (Binh Duong province, FYI). Well, this one is like that, but in a new location that is so twist-turned upside down it’s like the twiglight zone. If last time I was the prince, this time I’m the annoying neighbour moving in, trying to be like the cool family next door. This little urkel doesn’t have a phone the size of his head, and any random Vietnamese bells this time will not save me, only piss me off. (If this makes no sense, at least I am absolutely sure this resonates with all today’s cool kids).

Let’s discuss why this time I am not the cool new kid on the block (okay, I promise to stop). So, Binh Duong, where I moved to last time, was more or less your Surrey or Abbotsford or Airdrie or Ottawa of Vietnam. As in: boring, sheltered, sketch and dirty. But maybe more sheltered and less going on than these places. When I showed up, there were few English schools, and even fewer Westerners. The welcoming party was out of this world. If your appreciation as a foreigner in a town like TDM/BD is measured by the stares you get and the random ‘hellos’ you receive from people driving by on your bike, I was off the scale. At least once a week I was approached with a phone number of a Vietnamese woman, offered a teaching job (how did they know I wasn’t a French speaker – or did this even matter?), or invited to chug a beer or two. Binh Duong had me on its throne, and I was a good ruler: unwittingly volunteering as a special guest at competing language schools, accepting offers for a coffee date here and there, and obliging to a beer on occasion, even if it was 10 am. After time, however, it was time to move on. The abdication had to occur. I did feel I had left it in good hands though.

Then I returned. Binh Duong, you have changed my friend. What has become of you? Multiple English centres – in the same building – owned by yet another language centre, foreigners running amok, a 7D coffee shop. 7 freakin’ D! I didn’t know such a think was possible. Well, in today’s Binh Duong it is. True, upon returning to the local watering hole, I did receive casually warm welcomes, but I do think there is a bit of returnee-fatigue. “Oh, did you hear XYZ is back?”. “Really? I guess you can take Binh Duong out of the man, but you can’t take the man out of Binh Duong.” (Yes, that was an actual conversation. I swear.) To be fair, when I did venture away from the main areas, there was still some sketch, and still some excitement from my presence. I got a great response from a group of old ladies when I sat down at a table next to them. No phone numbers though. Still, Binh Duong isn’t the place where I’d like to stay. Nor was it the place where I had intended to.

My whole plan in returning this time was to go to a little place called Assspen. Ooops. Typo. To go to a town called Da Nang. Remember Abbotsford and Surrey? Where do people from these places go for some fun and relaxation, particularly in the summer? The most beautiful place in BC: Kelowna. Where do people from Ontario go? A hop away to the sun: Florida. Where do people from Alberta go? Well, there’s nowhere nice in Alberta, so also Kelowna. Imagine the difference between a polluted, humid, congested, boring summer day in Abbotsford/small town Ontario. Now, imagine all you could do in a sun-drenched Kelowna/Florida. This is the relationship between Binh Duong and Da Nang. With its sun, sand, mountains, culture, golf, and seafood, it’s the draw of many a poor man, and you know I’m one.

The reason that I am not a prince here, then, is tied into that. Every expatted out expat in Ho Chi Minh City, Hanoi, or small-town Vietnam feels like they have done their time, and they deserve something a little bit nicer, a little bit fresher, a little bit less cockroachy, and a little bit more up-and-coming. That place is Da Nang. So, they pack up their Lonely Planets, their teaching materials, and their Vietnamese girlfriends, and they head to the central coast. As a result, cost of living is higher, wages are lower, hours of work are trickier, and foreigners in some places don’t even get a ‘hello’! What’s worse, I have yet to be even offered a job just walking on the street: so much for paradise! Yet somehow the Da Nang dream has lured me just the same.

Yes, this is where I have been reborn as a Vietnamese dweller, this time not as a prince, but as a regular old expat, with his overconfident knowledge about Vietnam and the Vietnamese psyche, his suitcase of teaching gadgets, and his Vietnamese girlfriend/life organizer (current location: Binh Duong). That said, I do believe this time I know what to expect, and I am better off for it. In fact, every hour of every day, something comes back to me that I remember from before. “Oh yes, being awoken by construction at 6:30am? Normal.” “Oh yes, struggling to find the right temperature on your AC, between shivering and 120% death humidity? Not easy”. “Oh yeah, ants can somehow smell a single grain of sugar from across the house, and oh yeah, they bring a trail of themselves 12 metres long.” “Oh yeah, that noise. And that one, and that one, and that one.” These things are not new to me, but distant memories being reborn. The hope is, this time, it doesn’t all drive me nuts. It’s all part of starting this time out as a dweller, and not a foreigner, and the paradisaical nature of Da Nang is going to help me.

So, with all that said, sit back, enjoy, and watch as I struggle to fit in as Vietnamian as well as a newly minted Da Nangite.

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legacyofhopefdn · 7 years

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Remember when?

At 5:00 am on the day we had to leave Honduras, the kids and I and two precious friends piled into a busito and headed north toward the coast. As we whizzed by small towns, banana trees, and men on bicycles carrying truckloads of wood, someone kick-started our storytelling tradition with the words, “Remember when…” Long car rides are great for remembering when, even if you’re all smooshed into a busito carrying 15 people across Central America. I loved hearing from my people all about their memories of Silver Dollar City, the beach, what they loved about our house in Georgia, and the funny things they did that they never told me about. The heat, the road noise, the wind from the open windows, and the chitter chatter from the back all add character to a new story the Lord is weaving into the one’s he’s been writing with us, a new story that someone will kickstart one day with the words “remember when…”

Remember when we had to leave Honduras in a hurry and so we smooshed into a busito and drove to Belize?

We arrived in Honduras on January 19th and entered the country on 90-day visitor’s visas, with the intension of applying for residency during our first 90 days. We weren’t able to file as planned, though. We just didn’t have enough money. In the months before our move to Honduras, we had created a budget and raised funds, but it didn’t take us long to figure out that we were underfunded. It was a rookie mistake, a first time missionary miscalculation. At times Dean and I lay next to each other late at night and wondered if our rookie mistake was really a misstep, but then something like this trip to Belize is woven into the storyline and we are certain we’re abiding in the shadow of the Almighty.

Before we had to go to Belize, we were able to get a 30-day extension on our visas in April. Dean and I made the trip to San Pedro Sula to make the application to immigration. We left before sunup, and I’m glad because it was a long day filled with copy-making, lines, and waiting. Praise God, we walked out of the immigration office that day with 30 more days to pray and ask for guidance about what to do next.

When May 14th rolled around and we were still short on funds, we knew that plans had to be made for a trip out of the country. I spent a quick minute teetering on the edge of panic, in part because we were so confident that this trip would be unnecessary that Dean was in the States attending to some business. I was certain I was going to end up carrying 11 children by myself across the ocean in a banana boat headed for Belize. I had heard rumors that the boat is nicknamed the Vomit Rocket. Dread began to envelop me as the hours of that Sunday night ticked by. Here’s the thing, I really want to be that girl that was praying and telling the Lord, “I trust you, Lord, Your promises and Your plans, whatever they are,” but there was a moment in the night on May 14th when I was that girl praying, “Please, Lord, no.”

I woke up on Monday praying. I was done asking why and peace had replaced the dread from the night before. That’s one good thing about being awakened by prayer. When my eyes opened, my friend Lisa immediately came to mind. It was a little odd, actually, because we hadn’t chatted in long while. There with my head still on my pillow and Lisa’s family floating around up there in my mind, I remembered that she was involved in some mission work in Belize, and since I was thinking about a little boat trip to Belize anyway, it made sense that we should connect. I shot her a FaceBook message that went a little something like this: “I know this is going to sound like a strange request but I’m needing a little help in Belize.”

When I told Lisa what was going on, she put me in touch with some friends of hers who flung open their doors, set the dinner table, made up the spare beds, and said, “Come on over”, all for some strangers from Honduras. So we did.

A well-timed, seriously divine, post on social media gave me the idea to try to rent a van instead of taking the boat. Dean had rented a van before from a lady who lived right around the corner, so I gave her a ring. I got to thinking about what it would be like to drive across Central America by myself with the kids, so I asked the owner of the van if she had a driver available, and she did! All the details quickly fell into place, and soon the van and motorista Don Jorge were confirmed. The more the merrier is how we roll, so we asked our friends Ellie and Marta to come along with us, too. They said, “yes”, of course, because going on an 18-hour car ride across Central America with 11 kids smooshed into a busito sounded like the most fun ever. By the time we crossed the border and entered Belize, I was certain that God had something important for us there. If we had been able to apply for our residency, we would’ve missed it since we wouldn’t have needed to go to Belize in the first place.

Have you ever been to Belize? It’s cooler than a pack of peppermints. Your car will be freshly fumigated for diseases as you exit Guatemala and enter Belize, but don’t scratch your head too long about that strange happening or you’ll miss the tailgate, complete with pickup trucks, coolers, lawn chairs and cases of beer, all going on in the parking lot of Belize’s Border Control. It was quite the sight, especially after spending all day long in the busito watching banana fields and sweet Guatemalan villages pass by.

Heads up, it seems a tad unusual for a woman to travel with 11 children across Central America without her husband. God’s hand was upon us, and it all worked out for His glory, but we were detained at border control and customs for a minute or two or 120. I don’t know what they thought we were up to, but they kept saying, “We’ve just never seen anything like this before.” I am truly glad they are careful when it comes to the safety of children, especially given that there are some horrible things happening to children in this world. Eventually they determined we were on the up and up, gave us the entry stamp on our passports, and let us in. Make sure you have a little money on hand in case you need to tinkle. It’s about $0.50 a person, which adds up when you have a big group. Ellie was guarding the little ones while I was detained, and she didn’t have any cash on her. Thankfully a nice gentleman paid the $5.50 so our people could “go”, because the potty guard wasn’t letting anyone through with no money, no matter what.

We hit another little snafu as we exited border control. It seems you cannot drive in Belize without purchasing their insurance policy, even if it’s after 9 pm and there is nothing open. We had to drive around town looking for someone to sell us insurance before we could head to our destination. I met a guy in line at the liquor store who knew this guy who sells the insurance. I know it sounds odd – that I was in line at a liquor store. It’s uncharacteristic of me, I know, but that’s what was open, and I needed to ask for help. I still can’t believe we did this, but when the guy I met in line at the liquor store told me he knew a guy who sold insurance, I thanked him so much, got back in the van, and we followed him down the dark streets of Belize to a stranger’s house. The stranger wasn’t home but there was this other guy who said could meet us back at the liquor store, so we were able to buy the insurance. I filled out the forms, paid the guy about $20, and we were on our way again. I recommend learning the words to the Fruits of the Spirit song before your busito adventure. Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control are all needed in abundance, my friends.

We arrived in Camalote around 11:00 pm. Our phones no longer worked once we crossed into Belize, and there was no where to find WIFI, so we couldn’t call for directions when we couldn’t find our way. No worries though, we pulled into the only place we saw that was open to ask for directions, and they unstacked the chairs and invited us to sit a spell while they called the camp director. I kept looking at Ellie and thinking, “Oh my, her parents entrusted her to us and within just a few months we’re hanging out in front of the One Barrel Bar.” The owners were the sweetest and in no time the director of Camalote Camp was there to show us the way. Even though it was almost midnight when we rolled into camp, the staff met us and fed us and made us feel welcome. The beds were made, the AC was hopping, and I fell asleep in utter amazement of what the Lord had for us there. The body of Christ is the only way to describe our experience. We met so many Jesus loving people and experienced God’s lovingkindness is so many unexpected ways during the three short days we spent in Belize.

There’s much more to share but this post is already long, so you’ll have to come back for part two. I always hate it when bloggers do that, but now I get you long-winded bloggers and your two parted posts. Sometimes the story is just too good to skip parts to make it fit in one post. Glory be to God for getting us to Camalote Camp.

The post Remember when? appeared first on Legacy of Hope Foundation.

from Remember when?

#Legacy of Hope #Foster Care #Remember when?

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dravenmortiquay-blog · 7 years

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3. The Inner Evil Awakens

I would spend my evenings sneaking out of boarding school searching for people to slaughter and torture. Fine tuning my skills in mind control and murdering in every way I could possibly think of. I would walk the streets for hours finding homeless people to follow me into the woods where I had an old run down shack. I had set the shack up with all kinds of traps and torture devices that I had read about in the books that Veronica had been getting for me from the local library. I ordered all these device online with Veronica's credit card and sent to a post office box. I had wanted nothing to be traced back to me in any way. As the victims entered the shack thinking they were going to get a meal and money for alcohol little did they know that I had so much more for them install. They would be greeted after entering with an injection of heroin not enough to kill them just enough to render them incapacitated enough so I could place them in exactly what device took my fancy that particular day. I would spend hours torturing them from electrodes to their testicles to throwing lye on to the their body parts and watching the chemical burn them so painfully. The smell of their burning flesh would bring me a sick gratification. Some I would wrap in barbed wire just so I could sit back and watch them tear their flesh to pieces by struggling. I remember one homeless man after shooting him up with heroin telling me in explicit detail how he would lure young children down the alley way so he could sodomise them. He would then threaten to kill their parents and them if they ever spoke of this to any one. This repulsed me I had to make sure that his death was going to be as painful as humanly possible. I poured lye over his cock I whispered in his ear as the chemical started burning his member " the burn you feel now is nothing compared to the hurt you inflicted upon those poor children by the time I am finished with you you will feel true pain and beg me to end your miserable life". The rage I was feeling inside me was so intense that I had the notion to remove his fingers one by one. I grabbed a dagger to start removing fingers as I reached for the blade it began to glow like it had been removed from a furnace staring at the blade I could see flickers of fire dance off the blade. As I grabbed the homeless pedophiles filthy hand to start removing his fingers one by one his skin around the dagger started to burn making slicing through the flesh like it was butter this made for removing his fingers that much easier and more satisfying . His screams of pain was like music to my ears I would lean in every so often and tell him to scream louder no one within 100 miles will ever be able to hear you disgusting waist of a human being. After the lye had done its job removing the assholes cock and I had systematically removed his fingers I reached for my deceased fathers Samurai Sword the same sword that had used to slaughter him and his slut bride Liza. The sword felt like an extension of my arm I slowly and methodically started removing appendages starting with the pricks ankles then slowly moving up his legs. I wanted this guy to suffer like he had made all those children suffer. If he ever passed out from the pain I would give him a shot of adrenalin to bring him back to consciousness. The rage in me could hold back no more an with one swing I removed his head clean from his shoulders. Watching the head roll across the floor a wicked evil smile creeps on to my face. Meticulously I cleaned the shack making sure that I would leave no trace of the homeless man ever being in my shack. I would dispose of the victims body near a cave where I knew there had been bear sightings knowing that the bears would take care of the remains for me. The feeling of euphoria entered my body after that kill feeling satisfied and justified that I had removed a predator from the streets was I just trying to justify my killing now? I headed over to Veronica's to fulfil my sexual needs as well now I still had pent up rage that needed to be released. Finding the key under the pot plant where she had told me it would be located. Opening the door and making my way upstairs I creep into Veronica's room and slide under the covers slowly kissing and biting my way up her thighs. Ripping her panties to one side my tongue plunged deep in to her cunt tasting her sweet nectar. Hearing her moan in pleasure as she grabbed my head and forced my face onto her cunt grinding her clit on my tongue. With intense force I tore her panties off her legs leaving ligature marks where I viciously removed them the adrenaline still pumping through my veins from my last kill. Lifting her legs to tongue fuck her sweet little cunt I forcefully push two fingers deep inside her as she screams for me not to stop. Just as she is about to orgasm I stop denying her of the release she so desperately wants and needs pulling the covers off her I instruct Veronica to finger fuck herself as I remove my clothes my cock hard as a rock part from being so turned on by tongue fucking Veronica and remembering the kill and part of me remembering how it felt being in total control. Watching Veronica finger fuck herself my cock aching to fuck her tight cunt. Slipping a condom over my cock I can wait no more and ram my cock deep inside Veronica hearing her scream as I take her with force. The demon in me takes over again as my cock destroys her tight little cunt I pin her arms above her head as i drive my cock deeper and deeper into her i can see in he eyes that Veronica is close to climaxing again. She suddenly screams " DRAVEN I AM CUMMING" gripping me tighter with her legs. From out of no where I reply "Cum you dirty little whore make me cum harder than you ever have before". Cumming together like we have never cum before we fall into a deep sleep the evil in me retreating deep inside me now completely satisfied both sexually and murderously. The next morning I woke to screams from Veronica " Draven how did I get all these bruises on my arms and bite ligature marks on my legs ". Had I been that rough to leave bite marks all over her legs why can't I remember doing this the bruises on her arms are from where I had pinned her down but had I used that much force why couldn't I remember how much force I had used. All I could think was the evil in me was growing stronger and stronger he was taking over more and more. Veronica got up limping to the kitchen and made us breakfast she switched on the news first report was of the current state of affairs with so many missing homeless people. The police aren't quite sure what to make of it and bodies keep turning up chopped and torn to pieces by bears. Did they have a serial killer in their midst or was this the result of a new Satanic Cult that had entered the town. All I knew was that i had to start slowing down on the killing to much attention was getting made of this. The police and FBI were now investigating the disappearance of all these homeless people. Do I need to start hunting in a different area are they onto me my mind was racing now. I could hear Veronica trying to ask me something but what I was not sure. " Draven do you want juice or coffee ?" Looking at Veronica not understanding the question I suddenly reacted " just juice I have to run or I will be late for class". Quickly eating breakfast and heading out the door and returning back to the boarding school. As I entered the hall ways everyone was talking of the homeless man found in the woods. The principle had set a curfew that all students must be in their dorms by 8:30 pm for bed checks and that guards would be posted through out the school so no student would be harmed little did they know that it was me slaughtering all these people. I was called to the principles office as I entered the office there was Principle Joseph and another man I had never seen. "Draven this is Mr Reverance he was your fathers solicitor he is here to talk to you about your fathers estate and what you would like to do with it. Draven as your Uncle has declined to come to this meeting would you like me to stay as your guardian you dont need one to be here but it could be in your best interest to have someone here to explain some of the legal terms that Mr Reverance may use." I turn and look at Principle Joseph with contempt " Principle Joseph I have an IQ of 190 you on the other hand only have an IQ 120 if anyone will need help it will be you not I now leave" I spoke to Principle Joseph with contempt knowing that there was nothing he could actually do to me as before when my father first sent me here he made a deal with Principle Joseph that the school would receive 5 million dollars every year that I was a student here. " Mr Reverance what is it we need to talk about my asshole of n Uncle is my legal guardian and my understanding is that he controlled the estate?" Looking a little confused as to why this man was here and what we had to talk about. " Draven your Uncle never had control of your estate your father never trusted his brother and had left all financial decisions up to me. I have been in control of your financial future since your father was brutally murdered now we have a few things we need to go through today". Taking a seat who was this man that I had never had met but my father trusted so much with the families money. " Draven let me introduce myself properly my name is Balthazar Reverance I first met your father when you were just a baby. I worked beside your father in his business for many years as the Chief Financial Officer. I am now the CEO of your fathers company till you become of age to take over the company. Your father was always a very shroud and ruthless business man and made what is essentially your company now millions of dollars." Still looking a little confused as to why I am just learning all this "Mr Reverance can you explain to me why I am just hearing about this now?" Waiting for an answer from this strange man that I had never met never seen all those years that i would go to the office with my father. I always wanted to be just like my father in business I knew he was always the best at what he did. " Firstly Draven call me Balthazar secondly we were held under a confidentially clause that you were never to know about any of this till you were the age of 17" feeling a little aggressive as to why it had taken nearly a year for this information to get to me. "Balthazar I am nearly 18 now so explain to me what it has taken you nearly a year to find me and tell me this". Balthazar starting to feel my aggression rise in my voice " there is a very simple explanation your uncle has had us in the courts contesting the will and trying to take control of the company as he believes that it should be his and not yours. Your Uncle is a very bitter man that your father only left him 3 million dollars in his will to be your legal guardian. When you turn 21 Draven the company will be yours to do with as you want. To date the company itself is valued at 900 million dollars your uncle wants to have a seat on the board of directors. Your fathers explicit instructions were that under no circumstances that your uncle be allowed anywhere near the company. You yourself are valued at 500 million dollars and that rises by a million every two days with the investments we have in place for you. We have made sure that your financial future and the future of your company has always been looked after. When you turn 18 your trust will kick in you mat take over the family mansion and start learning the business so by the time you are 21 you can take your place as the head of the company just as your father had intended for you to do". There was something about this man I liked was it his hatred of my uncle was it that I could sense that Balthazar would do anything to protect me and my fortune. "Just one thing Draven we have had word that your Uncle might try and have you killed in an accident in that instant the company and everything oud become his. I have asked that Principle Joseph allow that we have our own private security watch over you at all times". Looking at Balthazar I simply tell him that will not be necessary with all the extra security that no one will be able to get within 10 feet of me". Thinking to myself Uncle Jarrif you just signed your death certificate threatening me and what is mine was a big mistake. That night as the school slept I slipped passed all the extra security using my powers of mind control to have the guards never see me as I walked passed them getting in my Porsche I drove to my Uncles house on the other side of town making sure i parked my car three blocks away so it was never anywhere near my uncles house. Entering through the front door the halfwit never kept his door locked and making my way down to his bedroom. Standing at the base of my Uncles bed seeing asleep with the latest in a long line of women that came in out of his life I walked to where he laid asleep no doubt intoxicated as usual. Slapping him harshly across the face to wake him from his drunken sleep. Waking to see me standing in front of him his aggressive nature started to take over instantaneously looking deep in his eyes making sure that I had complete control of his mind I whispered in a deep evil voice you will take this knife and stab that dirty slut beside you repeatedly making sure that you ram the blade deep in her skull and leave it there. Then you will take this gun and blow your brains out and I will stand back and watch you do this I could see that he was trying to fight my mind control but couldn't as he reached for the hunting blade beside him he stabbed the slut that lay beside him over and over finally driving the blade deep in her skull he then reached for the revolver that was in his dresser draw and placed the barrel in his mouth and pulled the trigger. Sneaking back out of the house I walked calmly back to my Porsche and drove back to school. The next morning the police were waiting for me in Principle Joseph's office to deliver the news that my Uncle had taken his own life and that of his partners the police fining a note in his handwriting stating that it had been him that had murdered al those homeless people and that he was also responsible for the death of his brother and sister in-law and that the guilt had become to much for him to bare. Trying to hide the fact that I had been there and watched the whole incident transpire. I had to put on the fake tears, tears I had put on once before after murdering my Father and his whore wife. In one night I had taken away all threats t myself the police were no longer looking for the killer of all those homeless people and the tightened security and curfew had been lifted. I could now go back to doing what ever I pleased i would just have to take more care to do it outside of this town.

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