tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13820633794119956702024-03-18T23:50:54.733-05:00ellie's placeelliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15854933369544818739noreply@blogger.comBlogger296125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1382063379411995670.post-81906926193449948332023-08-08T07:32:00.002-05:002023-08-08T07:32:36.688-05:00After a Long Night<p> Oliver forgot about the lake. As soon as he got his baggie of substance, he returned to his room in the basement and put it with his other stash in his sock drawer.</p><p>He took out Bex's undies, smelled her scent for a good bit and stuck those in the sock drawer too.</p><p>Oliver didn't want to think about what Bex was doing with Dayton right now. Probably the unthinkable. Although, he couldn't stop thinking it. He just wished it was him instead of Dayton with Bex.</p><p>He knew Bex would think the worst of him if she knew about the underwear. Well, it was just a small memento for a very long night.</p><p>Oliver had spent the first part of it rearranging furniture. Then they watched <i>Nowhere</i> which was awful depressing and hilarious at the same time. Then they watched <i>A very long Engagement in French</i>. Hopefully, they guessed right about the ending. "Next time we'll watch it with the subtitles," she said. </p><p>He would have watched it all over again if she'd wanted to right then. But they had a big gab about work. Who would be fired? How this clerk was treated or what the secretary did on her breaks. And did somebody really try to show him his butt out in the stacks?</p><p> It went on and on. He knew everyone Bex hated at work. Who she trusted. Who she didn't.</p><p> "Actually, I just trust you," He couldn't let go of her smile. And that's when he'd told her, "You are the only one." </p><p>He had to think a moment. They were talking about trust, weren't they? God, he hoped he'd remember to finish that sentence. He squinted hard and hit his head against the cement wall next to his bed. Just not too hard because he knew how hard the wall was. It was a small relief to hit his head against something.</p><p><br /></p><p>Now it stung him like a wasp. What he'd said. The thought that she knew what he really wanted. He hurried to light up. Something to forget the pain. Not think so much about the scars, or even her. He just wanted everything to be fuzzy. He freaking knew none of this would go away.</p>elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15854933369544818739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1382063379411995670.post-80299048450143373502023-05-23T00:00:00.001-05:002023-05-23T00:00:00.190-05:00Fan living on a budget<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc2DMqsqOYThi4u6eeUrSTKWKC9oBD-FgLbZFLIDYiqVdmB5lvSgSZKAOVdFgBLQl3Kk28vlMrFgxSoGrfK59PD2itQb4QhhbNTCCkrRqs1rlC4etJAojJRS-WcvG-OCNkZbti3FpmFW4Bf-XPsoVGAo1l0exATmFhBy6qid8FK26gty0Ylf6NekfA/s737/materialworld.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="737" data-original-width="693" height="528" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc2DMqsqOYThi4u6eeUrSTKWKC9oBD-FgLbZFLIDYiqVdmB5lvSgSZKAOVdFgBLQl3Kk28vlMrFgxSoGrfK59PD2itQb4QhhbNTCCkrRqs1rlC4etJAojJRS-WcvG-OCNkZbti3FpmFW4Bf-XPsoVGAo1l0exATmFhBy6qid8FK26gty0Ylf6NekfA/w497-h528/materialworld.png" width="497" /></a></div><br /><b><br /></b><p></p><p><b> <span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;">NYC is expensive to live as a student. How do you keep in budget and still have fun?</span></b></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;">Oh, I have Ollie to the rescue. I mean, he's like something from a Charles Dickenson novel. I don't know how he gets by.</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;">And yes, since I did use the gold card that was only for emergencies on our trip out of time, he has really been showing me the ropes as of late. </span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;">First, he says to see what your Uni has to offer. We do have a meal ticket for breakfast and lunch. And even if I don't use mine for breakfast every day..he does. We share a lot of meals together. Maybe that's how he keeps his girlish figure. He also got me a pass for the train at a student discount. On one hand, it feels like a lot, but I save in the long run. Really, we are at our chummiest just sitting in the commons reading for our assignments. Although, he knows scads of thrifty places and as he says, he networks a lot.</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;">Thus, we walk a lot, and we eat usually hot dogs since they are the cheapest and share drinks (Funny, we haven't been sick together once..but it's bound to happen). Oh, this boy knows a cheap date and I'm just there for the adventure because after all, I like his company and really I'm not expecting anything expensive out of him. We have even made it an event to do our laundry together. Granted, some weeks he gives me laundry to do, but once a month we go to the laundry mat and get the sheets washed. I will confess I would not go there alone. That's why I'll do his laundry. I need a fresh boy.</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;">He seems to know when we can get into the museum for free (a very early Sunday morning) but usually, we hang out at the library a lot and get to see some free art. We go to cheap foreign films which at one time I was told was a dollar but nowadays, five bucks and Ollie believes that's a steal.</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;">When in doubt there is always rice and beans (which good ole' ollie calls the musical fruit). I haven't had much luck growing my own greens in potted soil, but I keep trying (I can get the seeds at Dollar Tree). I am really trying to be sufficient on my own and need the 'rents less. So we know that Wednesday is when two-buck bread is available at the nearest Dollar Tree. Occasionally, the roomies and I will get some goodies from there. But it's very tricky. I have liked the bottled coffees (which are plain and have no sugar), some espresso to mix with the ground coffee which I already have for my pour-over in my room and t</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;">he tea is sufficient but it makes me want EARL GREY even more!</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"> Popcorn, tuna, pasta, canned veg..even bottled asparagus, and spaghetti sauce are other great finds. Really, this store can surprise me sometimes...but you have to be careful. And it's always great to get the roomies' advice. Always a good thing to have bread and peanut butter in my room.</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;">At times, we have gone in on fruits and veg and sometimes even meat. Usually, it's ground meat, but most of us are possibly vegetarians. Of course, you might see us chowing down on chili or somebody's magical burritos when given a chance.</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;">***************************************************************************</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;">Brookies</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;">Make a mix of Betty Crocker Chocolate chip cookies. Spread in an 8X8 pan with a little oil on the bottom. Next make the brownie batter from a Betty Crocker packet and spread over the chocolate chip batter. Bake at 375-350 degrees for about 25 minutes. It's a sweet treat!</span></p>elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15854933369544818739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1382063379411995670.post-47171593526646131312023-05-13T00:00:00.001-05:002023-05-13T00:00:00.145-05:00Music festival diaries<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRLZdAlkjqnOl771UchELrJbp50HbrT9iso3fLuiWE53-qiHBW0UzOsV0yoN_cjpURtydAbwHiUCKVl0Pzrw7oqpcbVOpCOR6NjgyA0uH6evVDgXVzafQkGk-Gjm2ajKnW_1wP20x98EeYbisOFco6yz-B11PxuIZErIiZhns5eFZtrLJra2XGE_Qz/s935/zoggy1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="662" data-original-width="935" height="484" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRLZdAlkjqnOl771UchELrJbp50HbrT9iso3fLuiWE53-qiHBW0UzOsV0yoN_cjpURtydAbwHiUCKVl0Pzrw7oqpcbVOpCOR6NjgyA0uH6evVDgXVzafQkGk-Gjm2ajKnW_1wP20x98EeYbisOFco6yz-B11PxuIZErIiZhns5eFZtrLJra2XGE_Qz/w682-h484/zoggy1.png" width="682" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62)" face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">
Name: Zoe Henderson
Nicknames: Zee, Z-girl
Age: 20
Relationship Status: Single
Sexual Orientation: bi
Pronouns: she/her/they/them
Hometown: San Marcus, Texas
Faceclaim: Sadie Sink
Stage Name: Zoe
What kind of music do you perform?: Indie mostly, but I have played country
How long have you been performing?: 6 years
Bio: I started singing in church when I was practically a baby. My mom played piano so she started me, but mostly it's by ear. Later, I learned from a friend to play guitar. I'm from a college party town that's just a short distance from Austin. I was mostly raised on a ranch but was never fond of the honky tonk stuff my gramps would play. His brother on the other hand was a total ROCK kind of guy who liked KISS and Quiet Riot so I have listened to a good bit of rock more than country. While I was in high school, I got on at a radio station and it was more like fooling around than anything else. I met some musicians that way, but nobody really famous. Well, that guy PLAY RADIO PLAY I met once in the parking lot after the show and he played acoustic instead of electronic. I just want to take a break from school. I hope I can interview some really great music artists this summer and maybe even get to jam with some of them.</span><div><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">***************************************************</span></div><div><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi1UVpoIJ15y58-rMCAe6R4zfbwRExMWrn8bOTtcELAtkvNU1VcvBILQAc0hkv71qprov27Qwa9jNjdkoPKPQmQHjg-N5NNOjOEr6YoCRhQbhsyWZvvmHUy1R6HuaLIp3twXUhmBbNczjCfX6jilmYubgCAjpjEI1K4e90-QTzw4uCgkvyR1U70ElO/s702/musicdiary1.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="698" data-original-width="702" height="514" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi1UVpoIJ15y58-rMCAe6R4zfbwRExMWrn8bOTtcELAtkvNU1VcvBILQAc0hkv71qprov27Qwa9jNjdkoPKPQmQHjg-N5NNOjOEr6YoCRhQbhsyWZvvmHUy1R6HuaLIp3twXUhmBbNczjCfX6jilmYubgCAjpjEI1K4e90-QTzw4uCgkvyR1U70ElO/w517-h514/musicdiary1.png" width="517" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Are you ready for this?" Of course, Kye would ask. He'd just gotten here from Corpus where he lived most of the year around, but something got to him this year when he turned twenty-two. He called to tell me wasn't a kid anymore. Anyway, he said if I needed a lift, a place to stay, a bodyguard, and a promoter he was there for me. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Secretly, I'm pretty sure my mom talked him into it since she knew he always wanted me to marry him when he was six and I was four.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">"As ready as I'll ever be," I smirked back. After all, we did our share of traveling together over the summers. He's more like a brother than anything. So my mom and dad both feel a little less burdened by me.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Let's just hope that old van of his makes it to Austin. Sure, it will be cramped quarters, but the bed is pretty sweet. Mostly, I've slept on it on the beach, and he's not too wild. OK, he occasionally talks in his sleep. But he watches way too many crime stories when he's not managing his mom's seafood cafe. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Just one thing," I remembered as I was loading my gear which wasn't much. After all, he did have all the music equipment packed away. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">"What?" He gave me the eye as if he already knew.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Did you quit yet?" I knew he hadn't.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">"I'm trying." He pulled up his tank and showed me the patches.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">"You don't need that many to quit." I looked at him blankly thinking the fool must have been nicotine happy.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Look, Z, I'm stressed. OK." Kye was in a pout as he crossed his arms.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">"OK." I shrugged back and gave myself a good stretch. I was certain it wasn't going to be easy, but we both knew why we wanted to do this.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">He got in the driver's side and got in the passenger side. After all, I had given Mom and Dad a hug and kiss or two (We had done this at least three times before I even got in the van along with a few extra homemade goodies.) I was determined to get out of there.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">"You know, it's more than the music, don't you?" I looked over at him. Naturally, he was Mr. Stoic wishing for a cigarette but smacking on some nicotine gum.</span></div><div><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Those damn interviews," Kye shook his head. "Are you gonna write a book?"</span></div><div><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">"You don't know me at all," I fretted. "I got my podcasts, you know."</span></div><div><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">He nodded. </span></div><div><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">As I looked out the window watching the dirt fields in the distance, I knew I still needed him. I had no idea how to really set up a baseline. I looked back at Kye and smiled. Really, I was glad he liked my music.<br /></span><div><br /></div><div><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62)" face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62)" face=""open sans", sans-serif"><br /></span></span></div></div>elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15854933369544818739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1382063379411995670.post-91470556238273449642023-05-11T00:00:00.001-05:002023-05-11T00:00:00.169-05:00OSG<p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj25PJ6i7CPj_P6_zpqkjWpZ6xdp8T30PNJ3I2YXUU_Cov-W0-hr0dD1Se6ohK-SAid9aB79paRYnvMZio7k3n37RoxG3AWmhFdXEDHyf2eJ8F5tSlyL9QTL7KiEo56b6ZMj2_O-WST3oqpFZmvNWX4xycyIbcv6OOja4k4yMaGHSM8VxZ_GfDoVdJz/s686/instafan.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="686" data-original-width="540" height="543" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj25PJ6i7CPj_P6_zpqkjWpZ6xdp8T30PNJ3I2YXUU_Cov-W0-hr0dD1Se6ohK-SAid9aB79paRYnvMZio7k3n37RoxG3AWmhFdXEDHyf2eJ8F5tSlyL9QTL7KiEo56b6ZMj2_O-WST3oqpFZmvNWX4xycyIbcv6OOja4k4yMaGHSM8VxZ_GfDoVdJz/w428-h543/instafan.png" width="428" /></a></div><br /><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><br /></span><p></p><p><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62)" face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;">For part of roleplay group: Orchard street girls NYC roleplay.
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(Posts from oldest to newest on feed)</span></span></p><p><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62)" face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;">1. Last outing with Sean at the Cat Cafe. Seriously, he's like the cat whisper. He loves kittens.</span></span></p><p><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62)" face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;">#catwhisper #kittenlove</span></span></p><p><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62)" face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;">2. Finding cool places to try with Allie who knows her milk tea and other hidden gems near the Uni.</span></span></p><p><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62)" face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;">#yummifoods #milkteatime #bubbleteabest</span></span></p><p><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62)" face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;">3. Oh, and you thought I would be stuck in a book. Gotta have my Grannysquares. I find crocheting relaxing and of course, I found time for it on these hectic days at the Uni.</span></span></p><p><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62)" face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;">#crochetmeagrannysquare #crochetlove</span></span></p><p><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62)" face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;">4. It's definitely hoodie weather in NYC. I thought I might bundle up more, but since walking around so much I feel at my best in a hoodie on the go. Yeah, keeping it casual.</span></span></p><p><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62)" face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;">#hoodieweather</span></span></p><p><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62)" face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;">5. A quote I have been keeping. I dunno if I believe it quite yet. But it feels like a quote I need to remember. </span></span></p><p><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62)" face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;">#quotetime #soulsearching</span></span></p><p><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62)" face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;">6. Allie is always full of surprises. Really, a charmer, funny and I think should be on Broadway. I find her independence dazzling. Wish I had her charisma, but I'm still taking it all in at the Uni and the City.</span></span></p><p><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62)" face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;">#bestieoncampus #broadwayboundmaybe </span></span></p><p><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62)" face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;">7. Oh, our cozy bathroom! Of course, its been my roomies who make it cozy and fun. Lov'n the shower curtain!</span></span></p><p><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62)" face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;">#showercurtianhappiness</span></span></p><p><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62)" face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;">8. Oh..this boy I know. Ollie is my campus mentor (✿◡‿◡). I dunno it hasn't been like a prince charming thing. He can be cranky sometimes. But when he smiles, oh its such a treat. I find myself watching him a lot. I am happy to hang out with him on campus. Of course, I am thankful to have the Sorority girls too. Yes, it's a nice balance of the day.</span></span></p><p><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62)" face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;">#friendsoncampus #smilesworthmorethanwords</span></span></p><p><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62)" face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;">9. Have I talked about my pillow love lately? I think not. Yes, it's building and I love it and I need it for a cozy bed. A girl needs her sleep. And I love the boho vibe.</span></span></p><p><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62)" face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;">#pillowlove #bohopillowtime.</span></span></p><p><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62)" face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;">__________________________________________</span></span></p><p><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62)" face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></span></p><p><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62)" face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Oh, I don't know about this," I must have made a face of anguish. My stomach was already topsy-turvy. I couldn't even eat. I was spending the whole day with Ollie.</span></span></p><p><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62)" face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Oh..come on, it'll be fun. A whole new way to experience New York," Onni smiled as she brought me a cup of tea. </span></span></p><p><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62)" face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;">I nursed my bottom lip. "I don't know if he even likes me."</span></span></p><p><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-size: 14px; text-align: center;"><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62)" face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;">"I can tell," she informed me as if she might be a fortune teller on the sly. I just laughed. Did I have to remind her he said I was the cutest little fairy he'd ever seen? I sighed and took a sip of the lemoned tea. Yes, it really hit the spot before you know who arrived. </span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Naturally, he did his greetings like a modern-day Peter Pan. I thought he might throw in a little Broadway production, but before I knew it we were out in the fall freshness of the day. He grabbed my hand as if we might be in a race to the subway. Although, it felt as if we bounced in unison all the way like our own happy dance.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">"It's a full day, you know," Ollie reminded me as we got on the crowded subway to go into the interworkings of the hectic city. Even on a Saturday morning, it was thick with people and we were smashed together. Honestly, it felt horrifying. My heart was in full throttle, but he held me close as if he'd protect me. I looked up at him and could see his impish smile.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">"We really are a good fit you know," he told me. My eyes opened wide. What was he getting at?</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Of course, the library was the first on the list. It was so old yet well-kept as the books went on and on so magically.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> "Really, there is more to life than books sitting on a shelf." He pointed out the art exhibit nearby. </span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Yes, another freebie, but I liked it as we strolled through the old paintings and heavenly statues on display. For a moment I felt he'd taken me to a hidden room, and it felt exciting as he held my hand and lead the way.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">We took in a few old bookstores nearby too. For lunch, we ended up at Central Park. He said it was the place to try so many foods.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Of course, we started with hot dogs but the falafels kicked with spice. Yes, it was a beautiful day to be in my overalls and nifty sneakers because we did so much walking. Ollie surprised me, he did know the backstreets of this busy place. Yet, he knew the peaceful side too.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">"How long have you been here?" I wanted to know.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">"What?" he winced with a silly grin. "Are you doing a story on me now?" He wanted to know if was reporting back to that Sean fellow. I sat down next to him on the steps there at the park wanting to take a rest. Really, I could have fallen asleep on his shoulder in the sunshine.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Did I bring him up?" Besides, I had my phone on silent. After all, this was our day. Ollie only smiled back at me.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Um, I guess I got here when I was a youngster," he told me.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">"A youngster?" I couldn't help but give him a sun wink. "You really aren't that old, you know."</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">"It feels like it sometimes," he looked to the gorgeous sky as if he'd lived a tale of some kind. Of course, he grabbed my hand as if we needed to march on to someplace else. Most of the places we went he knew the folks there, like at the costume shop and the old movie theater with the fresh popcorn. We settled down for some old Stooges films. I'd never seen them before, and I don't think I would have enjoyed them if I had seen them alone. After all, he fed me popcorn. </span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Would you like to come to my place?" He asked afterward. It wasn't dark yet, but it would be evening soon. Finally, I was bold and said, "Sure." </span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Of course, he took me to yet another old theater. "I need to get ready for the magic show."</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">"What?" was I dreaming?</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Just one of my jobs," he shrugged as if he needed to get ready. He showed me where to freshen up and a place to sit in the theater. Luckily, I was full of popcorn, but someone brought me a Shirley Temple. So I waited, thinking I might take a nap. Those dramatic fuchsia curtains would not open. Just as I was about to nod off, Ollie came to my seat.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">"I need you," he said.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">"For what?" I was stumped. Of course, there was hardly a crowd.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">"To be my assistant, of course." I cringed at the thought, but he found something beautiful for me to wear. The flowers were so nostalgic.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">"It'll be fine," he insisted. </span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">"But I don't know what to do." After all, there were the caged doves. I really wasn't a bird person.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">"Relax." Oh, he was so gleeful. "You just need to be on stage. I'll do the rest."</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">It wasn't until I was there in the spotlight of all those old people, I realized the doves were the least of my worries. Ollie was going to cut me in two.</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">------------------------------------------------------------</span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: center; white-space: normal;">Writing prompt: Work life balance at uni. How do you fit studying around socialising? Where do you like to do assignments, e.g. library or in your room? What's your go to comfy study outfit? Ends 5th May</span></span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: center; white-space: normal;">NGL I'm the biggest procrastinator of the world. Yes, part of it is that I'm waiting for inspiration to light my fire and in the end generally it's just my butt to get to the paper done. </span></span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: center; white-space: normal;">It's challenging to stay focused. I have probably always had a short attention span. So this means I have to take a lot of breaks. And sometimes, I lose track of time.</span></span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: center; white-space: normal;">This means I probably bother people when I shouldn't. But it's always great to catch up with roomies and of course, get their take on studying habits too. Yes, there is an art to being alone, and its a journey getting to that place.</span></span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: center; white-space: normal;">I used to think the library was the place to go to study like in all those wonderful Asian dramas I watch, but these days usually Ollie is there and I don't get much studying done. So it's best to find my mecca of studying in my own room. And yeah, I do that in bed and I'm in the comfiest of casual outfits.</span></span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: center; white-space: normal;">Depending on the weather or my temperature, I could be in my cozy shorts and tank or maybe jogging pants and hoodie. Of course, I need pillows and then of course the snacks. I do my best to drink water and stay away from all the caffeine. But having an electric kettle is a plus for some mint tea if need be.</span></span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: center; white-space: normal;">Recently, I have been told I take my notes all wrong. I was shocked when Professor Dewey noticed my artwork after class.</span></span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: center; white-space: normal;">"This won't do!" His harsh words didn't help matters. "Haven't you heard of the laptop?" He said I needed to type up the information and of course, less artwork.</span></span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: center; white-space: normal;">"But," I squinted back. "The little details are there to help me to remember stuff." He shook his head like I might be a lost cause. </span></span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: center; white-space: normal;">"Have you ever studied the tool kit on WORLD CAT?" (the huge library database) Of course, it was news to me. Was that what everyone else was doing? Evidently so. Thankfully, he brought up the link on my laptop and reminded me what I needed to be doing.</span></span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: center; white-space: normal;">"Biblio language is important, no matter what they say how the digital world is taking over. You'll need to know it." He left it at that as if it was my turn to make use of the information.</span></span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: center; white-space: normal;">So I've been doing my best to stay in my room. I only have contact with my friend Sean from back home at five on a Sunday evening. I eat meals with my roomies to touch base. And for Ollie, well, he is quite the distraction at the library. Even if he's not working he wants to hang-out as if we might make a date of it. So that's maybe a twice-a-week thing. And of course, I am staying out of social media for the most part. </span></span></span></p><p><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="text-align: center; white-space: normal;">Yes, hitting the books can be stressful. There is also crochet and I do like my granny squares.</span></span></span></p>elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15854933369544818739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1382063379411995670.post-74343414994540532722023-05-09T19:12:00.001-05:002023-05-09T19:12:00.147-05:00Girlfriend Tales ❤️ The Beachhouse<p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-pZe4tD03gL-r5CQ_fS9P7Uk1iswupu305KD6IO8a6Y5DSee_i7azsTkrL7ftuNthOV0AmGA00yVGmvHpJu4jD0N3v3Noidjbt66bS_pmwenyENLKUOYNUDGXqQntcPcIBsjNnd62F-i95O_hOCMiodQrVAHe2nlFcsRxZP1mGwHY_5xSursqTZcPvg/s671/beachouse.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="668" data-original-width="671" height="518" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-pZe4tD03gL-r5CQ_fS9P7Uk1iswupu305KD6IO8a6Y5DSee_i7azsTkrL7ftuNthOV0AmGA00yVGmvHpJu4jD0N3v3Noidjbt66bS_pmwenyENLKUOYNUDGXqQntcPcIBsjNnd62F-i95O_hOCMiodQrVAHe2nlFcsRxZP1mGwHY_5xSursqTZcPvg/w519-h518/beachouse.png" width="519" /></a></div><br /> <span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Where does your story take place? Malibu</span><p><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62)" face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">
Why is the character at the Beachhouse? To get away from her humdrum grocery store job.
What can you do at the Beachhouse? She's renting a room out. There will be other people who are sharing the beach house that she doesn't know.
What places and things to do are close by? Visit L.A., theme parks, museums, surfing, wine tasting, music festivals, and food trucks.</span></p><p><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62)" face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></p><p><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62)" face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62)" face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHAXN33rjWEmS8--EeB5GWIO7d-_tDmZOeZWygDqDrJRdTEuADxYCGtCO6ulNDhVi6sCSNEhtSplkYNohe3Bc738UGKGZ6ISpjQroCVxIaAKfbCVQJUig3XpbddXgAK3KHMGWHuYhu28dGdtzHU6p0ZeW1BvNRFUXo0e6VSv8yIQavfEf5vW7w3qa8tQ/s697/beachhouse2.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="697" data-original-width="681" height="572" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHAXN33rjWEmS8--EeB5GWIO7d-_tDmZOeZWygDqDrJRdTEuADxYCGtCO6ulNDhVi6sCSNEhtSplkYNohe3Bc738UGKGZ6ISpjQroCVxIaAKfbCVQJUig3XpbddXgAK3KHMGWHuYhu28dGdtzHU6p0ZeW1BvNRFUXo0e6VSv8yIQavfEf5vW7w3qa8tQ/w559-h572/beachhouse2.png" width="559" /></a></span></div><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62)" face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br />
Name: Rachel Livingston
Age: 24
Relationship Status: Single
Sexual Orientation: Straight
Pronouns: she/her
Hometown: Davenport, Iowa
Faceclaim: Somebody from Forever 21
What are your character's likes and dislikes: She likes warm weather, laughter, fun in the sun, burgers, vanilla coke, and ice cream along with cats and dogs. She likes to be in a calm world. She dislikes confrontation, and people who put her down because she didn't finish at the University. Her mother, someone she just can't please. Her brother thinks she's going down the wrong path.
What kind of career does the character have: Everyone thought she should be a preschool teacher in her family and she really isn't a daycare kind of person. She wants to travel, but ended up in the deli at the mega grocery store which lead to overseeing self-checkout and usually girl Friday for every department. She knows she can do more but hasn't found what she's looking for.
Does the character have a pet? No
& will the pet be with the character at the Beachhouse?
Bio: Rachel feels most of her friends have moved on. It seems her dates just get younger every year she thinks she might be babysitting these days. She yearns to find what she really wants in life and she feels she needs to travel so when the chance came up to spend the summer at the beach from someone she used to know who doesn't want to give up the spot at the lakehouse, but just can't be there all summer... she decided to go for it. Of course, her family is certain she'll be back in two weeks, but she plans to find out what the west coast has to offer. They don't think she can be on her own since she's lived at home all her life. </span><p></p><div class="_1aCl" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: #333333; font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 24px; text-align: center; width: 650px;"><br /></div>elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15854933369544818739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1382063379411995670.post-48697492206709780022023-05-06T09:09:00.002-05:002023-05-06T09:09:28.448-05:00How We First Met - Girlfriend Tales<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgTyti2gmb6n5bS3DHjajrMxYaTZZiHMlcV_WhKij0n_fFsqV1MJ1-suLUa3Tpue46bZ8yXbfyEekvsyDFmtAC1JuCOT7V-kTdyx-V51wLrKItvK2Z7SoOW7fdWQDMQ8k-jTPmqwmcMmlZy-8jk6jzFgK9tNGpDZOLpPUh7wjAdP7Dubrs_ljIclC2/s702/youknowyoucanfly.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="691" data-original-width="702" height="534" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgTyti2gmb6n5bS3DHjajrMxYaTZZiHMlcV_WhKij0n_fFsqV1MJ1-suLUa3Tpue46bZ8yXbfyEekvsyDFmtAC1JuCOT7V-kTdyx-V51wLrKItvK2Z7SoOW7fdWQDMQ8k-jTPmqwmcMmlZy-8jk6jzFgK9tNGpDZOLpPUh7wjAdP7Dubrs_ljIclC2/w542-h534/youknowyoucanfly.png" width="542" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>It was the summer of my Junior year when I visited my aunt in Paris. Of course, she's old and doesn't do anything much but stay in her Paris apartment. I on the other hand wanted to do more than find croissants and look at the Eiffel Tower. I wanted to experience the streets of jazz and maybe find some friends along the way.</p><p>Being on the old and thin back streets of Paris didn't feel possible. Oh, I am certain this was where fashion was happening. Even now, I found a bookstore instead, because for a moment there I felt as if I knew of those ghostly tales over the decades. Paris wasn't always a happy place.</p><p>However, it was French to me, the bookstore. Naturally, I ogled the beautiful pastries that were so intoxicating.</p><p>"You'd think it was a bakery," someone said behind me. I nodded. When I turned I saw that the girl was about my age with a sketch pad. She looked a little withered. But I didn't ask what she was up to. "Come on," she said to me. "I'll find us something cool to drink."</p><p>So I followed. I learned her name was Steph and she knew these streets quite well.</p><p>"I'm not really an artist yet, but maybe someday," Steph said she liked drawing the street life. "You know, real people."</p><p>Of course, I didn't know much about art other than a doodle here or there. She asked me what I liked to do and why I was there. I did my best to explain how I had had two years of French and was even in a French play where I played a French maid and got an award for my efforts back in Iowa. </p><p>"But it hasn't done me much good here," I shrugged. My acting partner was a bit slow when he spoke French. To these Parisianers I must sound like a hick.</p><p>"I bet that fellow liked, you," Steph laughed at my stories about Dallas.</p><p>"I don't think so," I shook my head. "Besides I know him so well that I wouldn't dare date him."</p><p>Of course, she knew those guys where we were going. We even got a free treat and it was delightful. Perfect ice cream coffee on a warm afternoon. Steph was a traveler. She was fluent in French and Italian. </p><p>We went thrifting afterward and the places she knew were so enchanting, like secret treasures in the city. Oh, if I could go back, I might buy more than a scarf now. We never did get around to going out to listen to real French jazz. Maybe someday.</p><p>After all, we became penpals.</p>elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15854933369544818739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1382063379411995670.post-14412687520691877972023-03-20T08:37:00.003-05:002023-05-08T08:18:36.488-05:00Orcchard Street Girls<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdAYWsvBazuiYSIpNixSh18O8P74UcsEH_hS31b0H--cQGTmY0lPajZXu1GCMYOIFGx-mqNkVYbkZY1Tk156ZKx_ZZscRWu8y3JkJreLCthrCYmCal2zrPejlC628d6gSEsOhbrQOZRCu-vsHfUlVIO9Vz8WITLZ7SNqWN-FAm2EgTvJJw1m1qgL-i/s715/orchardstreegirlsfan.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="715" data-original-width="697" height="584" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdAYWsvBazuiYSIpNixSh18O8P74UcsEH_hS31b0H--cQGTmY0lPajZXu1GCMYOIFGx-mqNkVYbkZY1Tk156ZKx_ZZscRWu8y3JkJreLCthrCYmCal2zrPejlC628d6gSEsOhbrQOZRCu-vsHfUlVIO9Vz8WITLZ7SNqWN-FAm2EgTvJJw1m1qgL-i/w570-h584/orchardstreegirlsfan.png" width="570" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p> Orchard Street Girls Roleplay!</p><p><a href="https://urstyle.fashion/groups/orchard-street-girls-nyc-roleplay">Orchard street girls group | URSTYLE</a> </p><p>Please join!</p><p>---------------------------------------------</p><p><span color="rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62)" face=""open sans", sans-serif" style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Name: Francine Jewel Park (Fan Park)</span></p><div class="_1aCl" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; margin-bottom: 24px; text-align: center; width: 650px;"><p class="_1g1U" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62); font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 2.14; margin: 28px 0px 32px; overflow: hidden; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box;">Nickname: Franny but sometimes Fan since it's easier for my adopted Mom to remember.
Age:19
Birthday: August 27th
Zodiac: Virgo
Pronoun: she/her
Sexuality: straight
Model: Chuu or Chloe (a German/Korean model)
From: Houston, Texas
Heritage: Dad is Korean. My mom is Chinese (they are my adopted parents. Supposedly, my adopted mom knew my real mom in German).
Lives: USA at college in NYC.
Major: Engineering but I came to my senses and switched to Library Science.
Year: 2nd
Return or new pledge: new to sorority
Likes: The library, crocheting, Japanese jazz, walks in the park and late at night (I might be a night owl) my friend Sean who's practically a big brother looking out for me, Spicey food, late-night snacks, offbeat people and guys in glasses. Oh, and the only Dad I know.
Dislikes: Angry people, people who want to play me for a fool, my mother (on occasion), fancy dinners, high heels and computer glitches.
Hobbies: Cosplay, crocheting, reading Wuxia novels and martial arts.
Quirks/Mannerisms: Spacey, doesn't always listen, laughs on impulse for various reasons.
Style: Frumpy I guess. Pretty ordinary although I adore a good cardigan, but I do have a little black dress when I need it. I prefer ballet shoes over high heels and of course Converse or Army boots.
Social Media: (if they have any) Facebook (very rarely and usually its a foodie post).
Personality: Calm for the most part, but sometimes I get excited during projects, and I can get frustrated. Although, it's better now after I changed my major. Sometimes, you just have to stand up for yourself, but I think I am a kind person.
Family: Just me and that guy Sean who my Dad adores.
Parents, Elenor (Jia) and Minho and my Nannie - Hannah.
Relationship Status: single
Bio: I was born in Paris. Although, I have never gone back even if it is a goal. I guess I could have, but I feel I have been always studying. Hannah has been my real family to me, and if I ever make it through the University and get a good job, I hope she will come and live with me. I feel I owe her. She has always been there for me. My parents have their own schedules. We do spend the holidays together. I admire my dad, but I dunno about that mom of mine. She knows how to spend money. I'm not sure she knows how to do anything else. And Sean that I met in Houston. His family knows my family. He seems to think I might not be up to no good. Honestly, he hoovers to much. But we are not dating.</span></p><p class="_1g1U" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62); font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 2.14; margin: 28px 0px 32px; overflow: hidden; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box;">🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤</span></p><p class="_1g1U" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62); font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 2.14; margin: 28px 0px 32px; overflow: hidden; text-align: left; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="color: #333333; text-align: center; white-space: normal;">As a college student do you miss anything from home? Are you homesick at all or feel more at home here? Share a day of how you try to overcome homesickness or how you embrace NYC if you are not homesick. </span></span></p><p class="_1g1U" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 2.14; margin: 28px 0px 32px; overflow: hidden; text-align: left;"></p><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: verdana;">I try not to think about it too much. But sometimes, late at night, you just can't help yourself. Especially, since I can't sleep. I want to sleep but find myself sucked into how things were. Honestly, it's a mix of emotions. I'm not sure I'm very lovable.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: verdana;">Really, I'm not that close to my family, anyway. I mean, they have their own lives and I have always felt they never really had time for me. After all, they are rich and have their own ways of keeping it that way. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: verdana;">A Nanny raised me and yes, she is who I miss the most. I haven't seen her in years. It still makes me smile how she was there for me for the little things. It must have been torture having to put up with all my indifference and of course, I needed her every step of the way when we would craft. Oh, she's the one who taught me to crochet and she was the one who said, "Keep calm and crochet."</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: verdana;">So if the going gets tough, I break out the yarn. Yes, I would love the wander the streets, but I feel at best being at home in my own space. There is therapy in keeping the room clean and having the ingenuity to see how things work. Or maybe it's the idea of keeping busy. As of late, it's so dreadful listening to the news about all the shootings happening. Just one more reason to stay in. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: verdana;">And I don't want to bother people. Yes, there are times I feel the need to be there for friends, but sometimes, I find my own fun. Of course, they might think I've lost it completely. Especially, if they knew how many YouTube tutorials that I watch. Yet, I find it so interesting what others find to do. Some like to bake, some can paint and then there are those into their graphic art and finding laughter on how they put their Instagram account together. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: verdana;">Recently, I rescued a Barbie from a thrift shop and customized her with Yarn Hair! Something about poking yarn into her empty head can be so soothing.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: verdana;">There are so many things one can do in their space.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: verdana;">1. Read a book.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: verdana;">2. Do situps and pushups..oh and how long can you plank?</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: verdana;">3. Meditation can lead to naps.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: verdana;">4. Listen to Harry's House on piano.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: verdana;">5. Journaling. Yes, listen to yourself.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #333333; font-family: verdana;">So maybe I could do these things any place. I get out enough with friends. Yes, it's good to be cautious in this hectic world.</span></div><span style="box-sizing: border-box; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62); font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><p></p><br /></div>elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15854933369544818739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1382063379411995670.post-84467367581876130292023-03-11T18:15:00.001-06:002023-03-11T18:15:18.576-06:00RP character<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHSx9wrYfnus76HxvK5lH_aqHnplPVpQlth5fuzAPCpio7SQhExdIu5xiBSqUwwPu4cnUWQNedcSFQNvf69yKitSQgwxKisF8OjMP1Zc1O6Q5z42wHZ9-OquIHqWPLZDM1Tz7bVUzWYCEUj7RDMAi7yO5TXt1KtlFuEm6BIeqncXtmJf3RmYBzzEMb/s696/fanparker.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="696" data-original-width="678" height="548" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHSx9wrYfnus76HxvK5lH_aqHnplPVpQlth5fuzAPCpio7SQhExdIu5xiBSqUwwPu4cnUWQNedcSFQNvf69yKitSQgwxKisF8OjMP1Zc1O6Q5z42wHZ9-OquIHqWPLZDM1Tz7bVUzWYCEUj7RDMAi7yO5TXt1KtlFuEm6BIeqncXtmJf3RmYBzzEMb/w534-h548/fanparker.png" width="534" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p> <span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62); font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: justify;">Birthday: August 27th</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62); font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: justify;">Name: Fan Parker</span></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62); font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; text-align: justify;">Zodiac: Virgo</p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62); font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; text-align: justify;">Pronouns: she/her</p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62); font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; text-align: justify;">Sexuality: straight</p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62); font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; text-align: justify;">Model: Chuu or Chloe (a Korean/German model)</p><hr style="background-color: white; border-bottom: 0px; border-image: initial; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top-color: rgb(238, 238, 238); border-top-style: solid; box-sizing: content-box; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62); font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; height: 0px; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-top: 20px; text-align: justify;" /><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62); font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; text-align: justify;">Major: Engineering</p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62); font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; text-align: justify;">Year: 2nd but feels like the 1st due to the pandemic.</p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62); font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; text-align: justify;">Returning or new pledge: New</p><hr style="background-color: white; border-bottom: 0px; border-image: initial; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top-color: rgb(238, 238, 238); border-top-style: solid; box-sizing: content-box; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62); font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; height: 0px; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-top: 20px; text-align: justify;" /><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62); font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; text-align: justify;">Likes: Sunny days, a nice breeze, yet I enjoy rainy days too to with a good Laura Zigman book. I have been reading a few Lucy Score books, too. Boys in glasses, smarty pants, long movies with Pedro Pascal, Wuxia dramas, old couples at the park, kittens, and apples. Oh, and I love Ramen with egg, and bacon..occasionally.</p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62); font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; text-align: justify;">Dislikes: Long-winded people, people with money, people who need money, politicians, old farts, brats, bratwurst, shots, infections, and bad boys who want to play me as a fool.</p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62); font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; text-align: justify;">Hobbies: Journaling, making sock creatures, crocheting, reading and listening to Japanese jazz singer Fuji Kaze. I do run on occasion because that's about all the exercise I like and of course, long walks in the park.</p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62); font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; text-align: justify;">Quirks/Mannerisms: Winking when I don't mean to, struggling to find the right words on bad occasions. Making sound affects when I should just shut up. Looking innocent when I should probably run away.</p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62); font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; text-align: justify;">Style: Jeans. Tops. Sometimes, I like for some to think I'm a ballerina, but really I'm a clutz and rarely ever wear high heels. I like the library look. I used to volunteer at the library, shelving books.</p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62); font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; text-align: justify;">Social Media: (if they have any) Just Facebook.</p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62); font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; text-align: justify;">Personality: Quiet, but ready for a riot. I like to dance in my room, jump on my bed, kisses in the rain(as if that would ever happen) I dunno. I know I'm not funny and yet I do funny things on occasion.</p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62); font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; text-align: justify;">Family: I'm adopted. I really don't feel rich. I live with an old Dad and a young mom who is Chinese. She really wanted a kid and well, she wasn't going to have one. So you know, we get along. We spend the holidays together. I dunno if they really like me. I mean, my nanny has been the mom I've only needed and she's still hanging on, even if I've been away for a while, but sometimes, my adopted mom and the nanny have their spats. Although, my mom says they have been long-time friends. But let me tell you, the nanny has told me plenty about that woman.</p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62); font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; text-align: justify;">Relationship Status: Single, but I gotta few mates who I keep in contact with.</p><hr style="background-color: white; border-bottom: 0px; border-image: initial; border-left: 0px; border-right: 0px; border-top-color: rgb(238, 238, 238); border-top-style: solid; box-sizing: content-box; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62); font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; height: 0px; margin-bottom: 20px; margin-top: 20px; text-align: justify;" /><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.62); font-family: "open sans", sans-serif; font-size: 14px; margin: 0px 0px 10px; text-align: justify;">Bio: What's to know? They call me Fan. Although, I was named Francine. Sometimes, they remind me I'm Franny. But it's just Fan. I love my dad. What an old coot. He likes to pay chess. I always let him win. I say I like a clean room, but I like it a little messy and lived in. Of course, there is always someone putting everything in it's proper place. I've spent the majority of my time in private schools. I really wanted to go to public school. Somehow, I feel I have missed out. Yet, I have found ways to get out and be on my own. I've seen the nightlife of Paris and even New York City. I have always wanted to be a rebel, yet I never really rebelled. Of course, I have a few secrets I share with no one.</p>elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15854933369544818739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1382063379411995670.post-61347777215942200652022-09-13T17:15:00.000-05:002022-09-13T17:15:02.581-05:00BLUE HEARTS - Give & Take<p> Bex hesitated for a moment. She closed her eyes, delicately. She supposed this was his something. She gave him a deep sigh.</p><p>"All right, I'm coming," Bex said.</p><p>Was he really that good? Really? Just expecting her to drop everything for him. She didn't want to think about it. She just did.</p><p>First, it was going through the motions. She undressed. He was lathering up in the shower. He gave her an impish grin when she got in. He lathered her up too. He let the wash sponge drop then and touched her sides and kissed her. Their wet skin touched, and his kisses knew what she liked. That was just it, he knew what she liked.</p><p>And she craved that about him. Bex wasn't strong enough to resist it. She always assumed he was more of a giver than a taker, but what if it was she who was doing all the giving, and she didn't even know it.</p><p>OK, by the time they got to the bed, she knew he was giving her what she'd hoped for as his lips kissed her belly and even lower, unlocking any apprehension she might have had before. It was so easy for him to nudge inside her, to excite her. Maybe she was just too easy she thought, maybe not, as she somehow succumbed to his mouth even the touch of his face next to her. And then when it turned into something so divine. A real orgasm. Her eyes suddenly went wide open.</p><p>What if I'm gay, she thought. Her skin pricked so and then he was ready for more. Shoving his hardself inside her. Making the bed even shake. Her head slid into the headboard.</p><p>"Ow." She let out a yelp.</p><p>Now the real games began. It was more like Twister the game sometimes, than real sex. Legs jumbled up. Strange positions, sitting up, looking at each other.</p><p>"What do you mean thats not comfortable?" He said.</p><p>"Well, its not."</p><p>"Just wait, you have to give it time."</p><p>"How much time?"</p><p>"I don't have a watch."</p><p>It was almost dark by the time it was over.</p><p>"You got any money for a pizza?" He then asked.</p><p>She just shrugged with her back turned to him still in bed, wrapped in the sheets. Bex was tired. Dayton dug into her wallet for some money.</p>elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15854933369544818739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1382063379411995670.post-58490839378624538962022-09-13T17:08:00.003-05:002023-08-18T15:33:44.774-05:00Blue Hearts - This Far<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTMCyQ-m6qk-UZ92iUe1lyTfJ-LvXPuZEK4JBNYyxw2GsJgmqQ6QW7vNoOkRDWzq7H8F_cLIBMMnydYHmHxktmNDnIFnjGmTR2-uF7A07kQnNatRIaAJ5XT-iP3A9kvmQ4FBcy_G4LLoSqevXJ2rrtXwmeKW09M2BaU_OcH3rk_w-qMHnuaE58U4a8HQw/s698/bluehearts2.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="696" data-original-width="698" height="530" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTMCyQ-m6qk-UZ92iUe1lyTfJ-LvXPuZEK4JBNYyxw2GsJgmqQ6QW7vNoOkRDWzq7H8F_cLIBMMnydYHmHxktmNDnIFnjGmTR2-uF7A07kQnNatRIaAJ5XT-iP3A9kvmQ4FBcy_G4LLoSqevXJ2rrtXwmeKW09M2BaU_OcH3rk_w-qMHnuaE58U4a8HQw/w532-h530/bluehearts2.png" width="532" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><p> Bex looked at the livingroom. She'd gotten Oliver to help her move the furniture around. It looked more like a cottage now. Her starfish and shells on display. The little lighthouse on the shelf was actually a night light. The sheer curtains from white sheets were quaint but surprisingly beautiful against the sky-blue wall. She'd recovered the old pillows her mother gave her with some denim from an old jumper she wore her freshman year in high school, back when she was still frumpy. The room was really coming together. She'd moved his Reservoir Dogs poster to the bedroom.</p><p>She doubted Dayton would notice. He didn't care as long as the couch was in front of the TV. He worked extra hours down at the garage just so they could get cable. But really all he actually needed was his gaming system. It was basically, the Internet he needed.</p><p>This was getting a little tedious, though. Third weekend in a row he'd gone over to Chris'. It was disgusting, she thought. He'd hang out there all weekend long.</p><p>One time she found him in Chris's bathroom in the tub with just his jeans on asleep in Chris's lap. She knew if her mother knew she'd tell her to get out of this situation, now. She sort of wanted too. But they'd made it this far. They'd made it this far.</p><p>Still that bathroom scene was fresh on her mind as she cleaned her own toilet with Comet. This was their place. It felt so much better to have everything sparkling clean. But Dayton was a messy guy.</p><p>He left a trail of candy wrappers and soda cans where ever he pleased. She was sure his mother was happy to see him go because guess who was the maid service now?</p><p>She went to the kitchen and mopped the floor out of desperation, she guessed. Was he ever coming home? Was she supposed to care?</p><p>Finally, she heard the screen door pop. Bex looked around the corner from their galley kitchen. There Dayton was standing in the livingroom with dry blood on his neck and down his white T-shirt.</p><p>"What the hell happened?" This was not supposed to be happening. Bex scowled.</p><p>"I was saving a dog." He shrugged. "This pit bull came out of nowhere in the kitchen and had it in for this black lab. I had to do something, Bex."</p><p>"You were drunk or high, weren't you?"</p><p>"No," he winced. "God, you always think the worst, don't you?"</p><p>"Well, you weren't thinking straight." She squinted back harder. "You could have been hurt."</p><p>"But I wasn't."</p><p>"Are you trying to tell me you're the dog whisper?"</p><p>"Maybe." Dayton shrugged. She looked at the clock then. It was going on three in the afternoon. "Look, I need a shower. I'll take you out to dinner or something."</p><p>Bex didn't respond. She went back to cleaning. Dayton went to the bathroom and shut the door behind him.</p><p>The shower started. He cracked the door open then. She could see he was undressed.</p><p>"Well, are you coming or not?"</p>elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15854933369544818739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1382063379411995670.post-44509683007407512462022-09-13T17:03:00.001-05:002023-08-08T18:16:58.541-05:00Blue Hearts - Under his skin<p> Oliver walked away. He hadn't had a cigarette all night which was a first. He never felt like smoking around Bex. Not many people had that sort of charm on him. Maybe if she were around more, he'd quit altogether. But within the block, he was lighting up on his walk home. Wondering what it would be like if by some chance.....</p><p>Forget it. He had to forget. It wasn't possible. She was pretty much a goner when it came to Dayton. True she did her best not to talk about him much when Oliver was around. But she'd been with him since high school. Two years even. Ouch.</p><p>Didn't she know this side of Dayton by now? Was she waiting for him to grow up?</p><p>Oliver smiled. "Not gonna happen," he said to himself. He reached for his cell then.</p><p> Oliver knew pretty much what to do next. Call Nelson. Get the weed and maybe find his little hideout at the lake and stay to himself. Oh, he liked this side of himself. The side he kept perfectly hidden for the most part. Not that anybody would much care. But this was what he did when he wasn't at work. Wasn't talking to Bex or at home with his sister.</p><p>But first. He pushed his fingers down in the pocket of his jeans. He could feel the sheen of her undies pushed away in his pocket. Next time her bra. For real. Yeah, he wanted a matched set.</p>elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15854933369544818739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1382063379411995670.post-83302969582149396262022-09-13T17:00:00.003-05:002023-08-08T15:01:03.899-05:00Blue Hearts - Burn Out<p> The fried egg was sticking to the pan. What else could go wrong? Bex kept staring at it. The egg sizzled in bits. It was ruined. She started to cry.</p><p>"We could have gone out for breakfast, you know?" Oliver almost burned himself on the pan but he got rid of the attempt for breakfast.</p><p>"No, I want to be here when he gets here," Bex shrugged.</p><p>"Has he done this before?" This was Dayton they were talking about. Once he got into a video game, you'd lost him for good, but didn't Bex know that already.</p><p>"I'm really starting to hate him," Bex croaked biting her bottom lip. "What was I expecting? You know, I should have just said to hell with it. Why did I beg him? Huh? This shit isn't going to stop is it?"</p><p>"Just take it easy, he'll be home, but later. Like by noon or afterward. You'll see." Of course, he'd said the same thing before midnight and even at three in the morning before they both dozed off in front of the TV.</p><p>"You keep saying that-" He gave her a paper towel for her tears.</p><p>"We'll have coffee. And break out the granola your Mom sent. It'll be OK." Bex shrugged and went to the table that she and Oliver had to find at the flea market. Dayton wouldn't even help with finding stuff for the house.</p><p>"You can make rent this time around?" Oliver then wondered if this was really all about Dayton. Maybe this was a bit more stressful than he'd thought. "Has Dayton paid his half?"</p><p>Bex nodded. "We're fine."</p><p>"OK." He knew they really weren't. "Maybe once classes start up-"</p><p>"Right-" Bex took a sip of her coffee then. "God, you should really go. I'm going to be OK."</p><p>"But I can stay."</p><p>"No," Bex nodded. "You've done more than enough. " She kept her smile even. "You have things to do. And maybe I need to be here alone whenever Day gets here. I think I should be alone."</p><p>"You sure?"</p><p>"Yes." Bex gritted. "I really need to be alone right now. I have to get used to being alone."</p><p>"Right," Oliver tried to smile. He drank his coffee then. Really, he had nowhere to go. He wanted to be right here. Maybe if he was lucky Dayton would never come home.</p>elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15854933369544818739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1382063379411995670.post-34058501792590091882019-08-03T14:41:00.001-05:002019-08-03T14:41:13.461-05:00just another day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
<br />
I've written 4000 posts in my story blog Ellie <a href="https://elliencompany.blogspot.com/">https://elliencompany.blogspot.com/</a><br />
<br />
It's a milestone, yet some years have been better plot-wise than others. When I first started the story, several were intrigued. Also, a lot more were on blogger back then too. Of course, many were upset when I shifted the story from the main character Ellie. I had never intended to only write about that character. I wanted to write about others. Some she knew. Some she didn't. I wanted to write stories about a lot of people. Perhaps I should have just named it Ellietown or EllieOaks and it would have answered a few peoples gripes with me.<br />
<br />
Honestly, maybe it's just me, but I'm one of those who have always thought of other people's voices. Most I would hear in my head. Maybe that makes me crazy. Yet, I like to be a good listener. I am really not one who likes to even do a selfie. Yet, I enjoy making collages about characters. Crackships, fangirling, call it what ever you want, but the heart of the story has many voices and I'm thankful I have been given a chance to write, even if I am probably the worst writer. I feel like I am a storyteller and I want to share their stories.elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15854933369544818739noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1382063379411995670.post-24838361039330617112019-06-13T00:00:00.000-05:002019-06-13T15:17:27.187-05:00June - A story a day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
"What is she suppose to learn if you are doing all her work?" Cameron was against it. He shook his head and found Ying's boyfriend to be a nuisance. He picked up the so-called Komona. "Where did you learn to sew, anyway?"<br />
<br />
"Self-taught." Yu snubbed him right back. Cameron almost snarled.<br />
<br />
After all, Ying was like a little sister he never had. He felt the need to protect her. He did his best not to be annoyed as he listened to Ying talk about how he was an old friend from when she lived in China.<br />
<br />
Why did she have to think so highly of this childhood friend of hers?<br />
<br />
"I'd rather you learn the right way and be creative on your own and not rely on this friend of yours." He gave her the stare down, but it didn't do much good. It looked as if it were already decided.<br />
<br />
"If only... you didn't like to shop so much." He hugged himself, yet she assured him that was all of the learning process.<br />
<br />
"How about this, you two go out to that dollor store. Pick up a couple of items that you make into something ready to wear. I'd like for you each to come up with your own idea." He'd see who really had the talent for fashion. Was it Ying or Yu?elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15854933369544818739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1382063379411995670.post-33256221142495634282019-06-12T00:00:00.000-05:002019-06-13T14:39:58.408-05:00June - A story a day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
<br />
Yu was certain they'd make a great team.<br />
<br />
"Just make a sketch and I'll figure it out." He told her he liked to make things. Especially, cutting out things and putting them together. His skills went far beyond sushi. Didn't she know?<br />
<br />
"I dunno." She winced.<br />
<br />
"You're too tired to think." Obviously, this Cameron was a slave driver. How could someone be creative under those conditions?<br />
<br />
"Don't you worry about it." He'd meet this Cameron face to face to face. After a, Ying needed to rest. Maybe not even go to class for the rest of the week.<br />
<br />
"I can't." She needed to keep working and studying. What would her mother think?<br />
<br />
"If she knows I'm helping you, she won't care." He knew of Ying's mother who always encouraged him to try all her new dishes at her restaurant. He'd always been helpful, or had Ying forgotten.<br />
<br />
"Don't you worry your pretty little head." Off to bed, would be the best thing for her. And he would not disturb her.elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15854933369544818739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1382063379411995670.post-66188523287991092382019-06-11T00:00:00.000-05:002019-06-11T13:41:35.856-05:00June - A story a day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Ying couldn't do anything right. Why did she have to make a stupid kimono anyway? They certainly weren't her style.<br />
<br />
But she just couldn't seem to understand the pattern no matter how Cameron simplified it. Finally, he went home a little after nine that night.<br />
<br />
"I just can't do it!" She told Yu when he came to pick her up. She hadn't eaten. She was so stressed it felt as if her life was going to hell.<br />
<br />
So in about ten minutes, Yu sewed up the jacket that fit Ying perfectly.<br />
<br />
"How did you do that!" She was impressed. She had no idea he even had sewing skill.<br />
<br />
"You were watching," he said he knew enough to get by.<br />
<br />
"My mind, just doesn't work that way," Ying winced as she hugged herself hard.<br />
<br />
"It's because you shop to much." Yu shrugged. "You have to see what you make with what you already have." He said he'd made a floral one from a bed sheet. "I didn't have anything else to do. Not sure why I made it, but I wore, none the less."<br />
<br />
Ying scratched the back of her head in thought. Should she take apart the project and re-sew it.<br />
<br />
"No way," she said under her breath. She was famished and hoped Yu remembered to bring her dinner. After all, it was after midnight.elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15854933369544818739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1382063379411995670.post-19239261266553817522019-06-10T00:00:00.000-05:002019-06-10T09:23:53.748-05:00June - A story a day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
B was in a deep slumber, but she heard the ding on her phone. She hoped it wasn't work. Struggling, she reached for the cell on her nightstand.<br />
<br />
She blinked when she read the words.<br />
<br />
I STILL WANT TO BE WITH YOU. I'M HERE IN NEW YORK WORKING. LETS KEEP IN TOUCH.<br />
<br />
To her surprise, it was a text from Chang. She almost felt faint learning that the text hadn't been from Sam, earlier. It was from Chang.<br />
<br />
She got up to pee, but thought she might throw up instead. Honestly, she'd never felt this way before. Was she that worried about Chang? Or was something else going on?elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15854933369544818739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1382063379411995670.post-1649149216132776562019-06-09T00:00:00.000-05:002019-06-09T00:00:01.006-05:00June - A story a day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
What was Chang doing with that homeless person? Yu thought at first his eyes were deceiving him, but he watched closely. Evidently, Chang had more friends than he knew.<br />
<br />
Yu couldn't make out if this person was male or female. Perhaps, somewhere in-between.<br />
<br />
"You have to be careful, brother," Yu mentioned to Chang later back at his room. "This is the city. All sorts of strange things going on."<br />
<br />
Chang explained they'd met before. She'd been kind to him. He felt indebted to her.<br />
<br />
Yu shook his head, at that. This was not wise, as far as Yu was concerned.<br />
<br />
"No tell'n what kind of diseases she got, brother." Yu reminded him that there was B to think about. Didn't he want to get back to her?<br />
<br />
Chang mentioned the text he got from B. "I don't think it was meant for me." He tensed as he spoke more about it, as if it were a losing battle.<br />
<br />
Yu told him when he made a lot of money modeling, then she would see him in a new light.<br />
<br />
"I can't bank on something that might now happen." It sounded as if he might give up on her. He went to wash his face.<br />
<br />
Yu went to look for Chang's phone. He'd give it a shot. He'd win B's heart, some way.elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15854933369544818739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1382063379411995670.post-87567653815214064872019-06-08T00:00:00.000-05:002019-06-08T00:00:06.495-05:00June - A story a day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
When Chang found that he'd gotten a text from B he was estatic! He couldn't help but smile all over as he walked home alone. Yu was off to work so now he could have some time for himself and his phone.<br />
<br />
"YES!" he said to himself. B finally came to her senses. She actually said she missed him.<br />
<br />
He sighed with relief. He'd waited so long for this. After all, she was his true love. He would do anything for her. Although, he wasn't there. He was in New York City.<br />
<br />
He hated that he'd left her, but this was where work led him and he knew she wanted time on her own.<br />
<br />
Maybe she'd thought it through. Maybe she'd matured and she was ready for him to come home.<br />
<br />
But then he saw a certain word, she would never use.<br />
<br />
"Baby!" He found himself saying aloud. "Baby?" He made a face of disgust. He squinted hard. Evidently, there was a mix up. She would have never called him BABY. NEVER.<br />
<br />
"Are you OK?" Asked a voice.<br />
<br />
Chang looked up to see the homeless person staring at him.<br />
<br />
"Remi?" He'd remembered her name. She'd given him a backpack full of homemade rice crispy treats, clean socks, and underwear and even some paperbacks to read. At the time, he thought she was helping homeless people, but she looked homeless herself now. "Are you OK?"<br />
<br />
She almost smiled, but he could see she'd been crying. He'd thought of her as some vibrant girl who everyone would remember, but she looked fade and tired.<br />
<br />
Remi nodded as if it were none of his business.<br />
<br />
He told her he'd found some work. They walked together in the early evening. Finally, they stopped at a food truck and got some coffee.<br />
<br />
"How about you, I haven't seen you around?" Chang wasn't sure if she would really talk.<br />
<br />
"I've been around." She shrugged.<br />
<br />
"On the street?"<br />
<br />
Remi didn't answer.<br />
<br />
Chang dug in his wallet and found a twenty dollar bill.<br />
<br />
"I know it's not much." Chang looked her over. "Why don't I buy you dinner?"<br />
<br />
He felt bad for her. Maybe it was a good thing he saw Remi when he did. He didn't have time to think about B now.<br />
<br />elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15854933369544818739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1382063379411995670.post-78060417394795227042019-06-07T00:00:00.000-05:002019-06-07T00:00:02.490-05:00June - A story a day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
<br />
Honestly, Cameron was doing his best to guide Ying through the process of what a designer needed to know in the fashion world. He doubted she'd ever sewn a pillowcase together.<br />
<br />
Still, he found her sweet, perhaps helpless. He certainly didn't want her to get taken advantage of.<br />
<br />
"What would your mother think, if she knew how you are spending their hard earned money," Cameron wanted to put Ying on a guilt trip. She'd been neglecting her studies for days.<br />
<br />
"What?" She looked at him as if she might truly be ready to be shot. "You talked to my mother?"<br />
<br />
Cameron shoved his hands deeper in his pockets. He didn't want her to see him smile, but he couldn't help but laugh. "Maybe." He'd leave it at that. He walked away and she followed like a helpless little puppy.<br />
<br />
He didn't want to like her, but he did. He wanted her to pay attention and show her independence. He needed to teach her and nothing else.<br />
<br />
But sometimes, he thought she would be better off with him, instead of her friends. They couldn't be a good influence.<br />
<br />
"We're going to make our own pattern." He got out a piece of scarf-like fabric. It wouldn't be easy to sew, but she might like how it turned out. "It's really simple." He wanted her to make a kimono.<br />
<br />
Her jaw dropped.<br />
<br />
"Don't look at me that way." He tilted his head and was all the more serious. "You need to embrace your time here." Why couldn't she fall in love with the idea of sewing? He knew she was young and wanted everyone working for her. "If you want to help any of those big-name designers, you have to learn to sew. You have to know how the pattern works."<br />
<br />
Of course, she looked at him as if this was all a foreign language she could never comprehend.elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15854933369544818739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1382063379411995670.post-50462622368748630222019-06-06T00:00:00.000-05:002019-06-06T00:00:03.216-05:00June - A story a day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
<br />
Ying knew she'd be late for her afternoon classes. Still, she liked hanging out with Yu and Chang who were both in a good mood, so she was too...until she met Cameron at the foot of the steps of the fashion school.<br />
<br />
"Where have you been?" His festered frown made her feel all the tardier.<br />
<br />
"Out-" She knew she should just zip it and follow her mentor inside. As it was he was driving her insane. Although, he kept telling her she was driving him insane.<br />
<br />
Had she no sense of fashion? Evidently, he did.<br />
<br />
Her grip tightened to the straps of her backpack as she followed him down the long hall to his workshop. He was here to help her with hands-on activities. As it was, she knew nothing about patterns and he challenged her daily to take apart clothes and put them back together. She needed to know how clothing worked. But she didn't have time for that.<br />
<br />
1. She was homesick.<br />
2. Cameron was driving her crazy with all his talk and fierce NO about anything she did.<br />
3. She'd found Yu. Finally happiness had found her.<br />
4. She evidently wasn't mature enough to be a real fashion designer.<br />
<br />
Still he held her accountable. Cameron looked at her sketchbook closely. Naturally, he was closed lipped and didn't shed much emotion. And then he found a sketch of Yu.<br />
<br />
"And who might this be?" He said he doubted it was from her imagination.<br />
<br />
"Uh," a lump lodged in throat. Did she dare tell Cameron about Yu. What if Cameron fell in love with him? Or maybe Yu could help her out with Cameron.elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15854933369544818739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1382063379411995670.post-8737892956953997332019-06-05T00:00:00.000-05:002019-06-05T00:00:02.136-05:00June - A story a day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
<br />
Yu wondered...or perhaps Ying really did need him. He kind of liked being needed.<br />
<br />
But then as he looked over at Chang at lunch, he could see Chang needed him too. Funny, he hadn't felt this perplexed in a very long time.<br />
<br />
At the moment, it felt like good times ahead. No one was arguing. Yet, even went he scratched the back of his neck in thought, he could see it coming.<br />
<br />
They might squabble...over him. He couldn't help but imagine it. A sly grin pushed the corners of Yu's mouth.<br />
<br />
"What's so funny?" Asked Chang as he was finishing up his bowl of fish broth.<br />
<br />
Yu's eyes lit. "Oh, its nothing...really."<br />
<br />
"It has to be something?" Ying gave him a peculiar smile.<br />
<br />
Yu shook his head, no. Maybe this would be a good time to bring up B. Lord knows, what they each had to say about their friend back home. As long as they didn't bring up the living arrangement here.<br />
<br />
He could see Ying getting testy, if she knew Chang was living with him now.<br />
<br />
Yu almost sighed. He guessed he needed to think of something. Maybe he would just let a little romance lead the way. He would soon be living with Ying and Chang could have his room.elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15854933369544818739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1382063379411995670.post-49209905146407191102019-06-04T00:00:00.000-05:002019-06-15T22:51:32.423-05:00June - A story a day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
<br />
Was Ying seeing things?<br />
<br />
She gasped and leaned behind the pink wall of her campus building so Yu couldn't see her.<br />
<br />
Yu was with Chang (B's old coach from back home). OK, so he wasn't that old. Possibly thirty, and a sexy thirty as that. Yes, he still left her breathless. He was that kind of handsome.<br />
<br />
But why was he in New York City? It couldn't be him? Or could it? Ying was about to have an airhead moment. However, Yu caught up to her.<br />
<br />
He told her he was helping Chang find a job.<br />
<br />
"A job?" Her eyes lit. "Here, at the Fashion school?"<br />
<br />
Yu nodded. At least Chang was humble enough. Perhaps, B had done this to him. Ying always thought of Chang as too perfect for his own good when he was her coach. She found him arrogant in the beginning, but now he looked liked he might have just got out of rehab.<br />
<br />
Before she knew it, Yu looped his arm around hers and Chang on the other side of him. He was taking them to lunch at a noodle shop he knew of. It wasn't long until she found out that Yu used to work there. They got to eat for free.<br />
<br />
"Oh, you lucky dog." She smirked, thinking she could do better, but he was so attentive. Had she forgotten that?<br />
<br />
She listened to Yu go on how he and Chang were old friends and he was happy to help him out.<br />
<br />
She nodded and slurped noodles. She guessed Yu did need friends. Although, she hoped Chang didn't take up too much of Yu's time. After all, Yu wanted her own ME TIME with Yu.elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15854933369544818739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1382063379411995670.post-44383345039886923272019-06-03T00:00:00.000-05:002019-06-15T07:29:08.359-05:00June - A story a day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
<br />
They had hardly finished breakfast and Sam was already ready to place some something with B. He came up from behind her while she was brushing her teeth in the bathroom and kissed her supple neck.<br />
<br />
It tickled. She couldn't help but laugh as she washed her mouth out.<br />
<br />
"You know, I have to go to work," B turned and fell into a kiss with Sam. They stayed interlocked with each other for a moment or two. Finally B managed to look at her watch. "I have to go."<br />
<br />
Sam only scrunched a smile and carefully let her go from his sweet grasp. He let out a sigh, and told her he would clean up.<br />
<br />
She grabbed her phone from the dining table. The phone rang in her hand. It was her supervisor already barking orders. She listened carefully. Then slid her phone in her back pocket of her black stretchy jeans.<br />
<br />
It wasn't long she was on her scooter bike and weaved in and out of traffic on the busy streets to get to her destination which was her second home, the police station. B worked in the of the gray building. She was in violent crimes. Although, a majority of her work was either looking at surveillance footage or other archived materials.<br />
<br />
It wasn't nearly as her exciting as one might think, and she was OK with that. Of course, there was Ryan, meeting her at the door. He checked his watch. Luckily, he didn't say, "You're late."<br />
<br />
"What is it?" Her arms were already crossed. She knew he only wanted her as a gofer and not much more.<br />
<br />
"I got a lead, and it doesn't look for that Tao friend of yours," Ryan told her.<br />
<br />
"Huh." Why didn't it surprise her? She'd seen him go down a dark path before, but he'd come back to her and she thought they might work things out. But he was never quite as cool as made to think. He was a rich kid who never had to work for anything. Yet, he still managed to never be happy.<br />
<br />
She went to get settled at her desk. This was not the way she wanted to start her morning.<br />
<br />
"Your ex is hanging out with the wrong crowd," Ryan smirked.<br />
<br />
"He's not my ex-" but her voice cracked. They'd been very close for a month or two. She bit her bottom lip. Suddenly, her phone flashed a message.<br />
<br />
It was a love note from Sam, or so she thought.<br />
<br />
She was happy she'd waited until now to be involved with Sam and no other. He wasn't made of money. He wanted to be a cop too. But he was a bad test taker.<br />
<br />
She wanted to text him right back. However, with Ryan around she knew she had to look into the Tao matter, immediately.elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15854933369544818739noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1382063379411995670.post-10287350345859644172019-06-02T00:00:00.000-05:002019-06-07T07:05:41.642-05:00June - A story a day<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
<br />
"What was I thinking," Chang said under his breath. He closed his eyes shut and fell back on his bed. He felt so sad. But for a moment, he wanted B to remember he would always think of her.<br />
<br />
It was true, he'd never been in love until he met B, all those years ago. Growing up, he was never a kid. He'd always been at the hall learning martial art. It was unthinkable to feel truly human. He'd been part of a mission then, an army of a fellowship who believed just like he did, but then it wasn't true either.<br />
<br />
Of course, he felt so far from the truth now. Practically, a cripple with his knee injury. At least, it wasn't noticeable now. It still hurt from time to time, but he wasn't a coach anymore.<br />
<br />
Yu let him stay in his room. It was just a matter of time, or so Yu said he'd be moving in with Ying.<br />
<br />
Chang didn't keep tabs on him. He'd left Chang alone. Of course, he winced now wondering if Yu would even come home.<br />
<br />
Chang put the Android to his chest, wishing he hadn't bothered B. After all, she was making a real life for herself on the police force. Of course, he was worried, if she was OK. Why did she have to have such a dangerous life?<br />
<br />
He couldn't shake the feeling that Fang would let her live such a life if she was with him. It had to be over, by now.<br />
<br />
Still, when she sided with the rich kid so long ago, it stung Chang deep. It just wasn't her nature. Of course, she never really let herself ever be true to him, either.<br />
<br />
It wasn't easy trying to get over B. He hadn't yet.<br />
<br />
Yes, maybe he drank too much, gambled a bit, with a head full of suicidal thoughts. But here he was in New York City still tormented by the only love he ever needed. She was nowhere in sight. It left him hollow inside. He only had Yu to turn to now.elliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15854933369544818739noreply@blogger.com0