i have a truck!!!

I’ve had such a shitty couple weeks that I’m not even gonna list all the stuff at the moment because I don’t wanna bring myself down. Because I’m super excited that...

I HAVE A TRUCK!!!

I have a pickup truck! It’s all mine! MINE I TELL YOU!!

We needed to shuffle around vehicles because my dad’s transmission went in his white pickup truck, and it was a shitty truck anyway, so replacing the transmission didn’t make sense. My uncle is going to sell it for us (because my dad is stuck in the 70s with his vehicle pricing/selling tactics).

We decided my dad would get the van I’ve been driving, which was bought back in 2007 and was meant as a family vehicle, and we’d get a newer vehicle for my mom and I -- hopefully a pickup truck, but we were also looking at SUVs. I was excited and hoping for a pickup truck because I don’t like cars or vans, but the van we have is a nice vehicle and we’ve kept up on the maintenance.

But then recently my uncle was doing some trading with a guy and in one of the trades was a 2006 Dodge Ram crew cab pickup truck. He took it home for parts, not thinking much of it. He’d traded the equivalence of $3000 for the truck.

Well my mom and I saw it and jumped right on that. We thought he might not want to sell it to us because we knew he wanted the truck for parts, but he was happy to do it.

It has a KICKASS stereo system (part of the reason my uncle was happy I took it -- he knows how into music I am), better than I’ve ever had in a vehicle, and IT’S A PICKUP TRUCK!!

It’s black, has some wearing/bubbling of the paint on the hood and roof (it happens in the desert unless you park in a garage or under trees), but it hasn’t been in any accidents and is in pretty great shape for being 13 years old. We already put running boards on it so my mom can get into it. They’re black and have grips on them so she doesn’t slip.

The guy who owned the truck had kids, so the inside is disgusting, but my uncle knows this guy who does professional detailing, and he owes my uncle a favor, so I’m getting the truck detailed by him next Monday. I’m not super picky about cleanliness when it comes to vehicles, so I totally don’t mind driving it even though it’s gross inside, especially when it has a kickass stereo.

It’s rougher on the gas than the van, but I don’t drive a whole lot and I can always use the van if we need to drive long distances or my aunt’s little car if we go REALLY long distances.

Here’s a pic below of what a truck like mine looked like brand new. Mine isn’t as clean and pretty as this one, but at least you get the idea of what it looks like.

I was about to say I don’t care that it’s not all pretty and clean like the one above, but I do care. It’s stressful to me driving around a brand new spotless vehicle. I’m always worried something is going to happen to it. I like used vehicles not only for the $$ savings, but also because I don’t have to constantly worry about people scraping it in parking lots or us hitting it while we’re loading stuff into it.

I’m so excited! I haven’t had a pickup truck since I had that really big psychotic episode when I was 25. It was so bad that I stopped driving (and pretty much everything else) so my family sold the truck and got the van. I missed my truck so much!

And now I have one again!

my dad's washing dishes o_O

So for some background on this asshole, you should know that my parents have been together for almost 50 years, and during that time the man has never EVER washed a dish, never cooked (he grills meat sometimes), never cleaned (we put him in charge of his own bathroom and bedroom since my mom and I work and he’s retired, so about once a year he cleans them so badly my mom and I end up re-cleaning the bathroom when guests come over), never done laundry (even after I was born and my mom was recovering), and would rather it be like back in the 50s when a man was king of his castle.

He really should’ve married someone else and not had a daughter like me, because he does NOT get treated like king of the castle.

Okay, so now that you have some background, a few weeks back my dad mentioned how much my mom and I work, and how bad my mom’s been looking, and that he wanted to try washing dishes. We kinda chuckled because he’s said MANY times that he wants to help around the house and never does. Not even vacuuming (which he’s done in other people’s houses his entire life because he’s a carpet layer).

He was persistent about it, so my mom was like okay I’ll teach you.

Would you believe he’s out there right now washing dishes and he’s been doing it for three weeks now?! And not like waiting until it’s so ridiculously full of dishes and so disgusting that we have to nag him. He’s doing it either once a day or once every other day!

My mom and I have been joking about the family curse. Everybody on both sides of my family seemed to perk up and become really awesome human beings very soon before they died, so we’re like, “well, dad’s gonna die.” :D

7 ways to cook a human: part 2

Fandom: Hannibal
Pairing: can be read as genfic, pre-Hannigram, or Hannigram
Theme: 7 ways to cook a human in 5+1 6+1 style

7 Ways to Cook a Human
2. Blanching (partially cooked and immediately submerged in ice cold water to stop the cooking process)

Hannibal’s pupils were blown, and it was the most satisfying thing Will had ever seen.  Sitting at the head of his own dinner table, Jack having excused himself to use the restroom, Hannibal looked like a king on his throne.  And as Will ran the dull edge of the knife over his own neck, looking Hannibal in the eye, he held his breath, listening to the sweet sound of Hannibal trying desperately to control his own breathing.

---

He pushed harder, leaving behind first a white, then a red line.  He wasn’t cutting his skin, but toying with the illusion of it all.  Teasing.  Dousing Hannibal when all the man had been ready for was a nice dinner for the three of them.

Will dragged the knife tip down over his shirt collar and down over the seam of his button down.  Hannibal’s eyes were glued to the action, right hand frozen over his own knife.  He’d been ready to carve the meat for their guest when Jack had excused himself, but Will doubted Hannibal remembered that anymore.

Hannibal’s tongue poked out just a bit and ran over his lower lip.  Just a peek of pink before Hannibal caught himself and cleared his throat.

But Will was just getting started.  Never once breaking eye contact, even though it was difficult, he flicked the sharp blade under the first button on his shirt, catching it just right and sending the button sailing across the room.

Hannibal swallowed audibly, eyes darting up to look Will in the eye before dropping back down to the knife as if mesmerized by it.  Enchanted.

Will licked his own lips before slipping the knife under his shirt, out of Hannibal’s sight, and hissed in a quick breath as the cold metal touched his bare skin.

Hannibal’s right hand came to rest on the knife he’d been ready to use on the meat, and his fingers caressed it.  Itching to use it on Will.  Craving the physical sensation to go along with the visual feast for his eyes.  The show Will was putting on just for him.

Will pulled the knife out again, but this time he raised it to his lips, sticking his tongue out and touching the tip of the razor-sharp knife to his tongue.

Hannibal’s top lip twitched ever so slightly and he moved forward in his seat a fraction of an inch.  Wishing he was closer.  Wanting to touch.  Begging for more even though he’d never do so out loud.

No one else would’ve noticed anything was wrong with the man.  Almost everything about him was subtle unless one was attuned to his every move.  His every breath.  His every tilt of the head.

Will dragged the dull edge of the blade over the tip of his tongue before flicking it over his bottom lip.

Hannibal’s fingers twitched over the knife.

As Will ran the blade over his chin and back down to his neck, Hannibal took hold of his own knife’s hilt, his knuckles turning white immediately.  Just a flick of the wrist and Will nicked his own neck, blood welling even as Hannibal’s breath caught in his chest.

He looked up at Will, mouth opening a little.

“It smells delicious,” Jack said, his commanding voice smashing apart all the tension in the room and drenching Hannibal in the ice cold water of the here and now.

“I hope you enjoy it,” Hannibal said, recovering nicely as Jack took a seat.

Will set his knife down on the table as Hannibal began carving the meat of a young man they’d met a few weeks earlier.  He’d been rude one too many times and paid for his social blunder by becoming a lovely roast.

“Will, you have a little something,” Jack said, gesturing to his own neck, brow furrowed with concern.  “Looks like blood.”

“Oh,” Will said, feigning surprise.  “Excuse me.  I cut myself shaving earlier, and it must’ve started bleeding again.  I’ll be back in a moment.”

He left both men in the dining room, one completely oblivious to the other’s distress at having been dumped into a figurative bucket of ice and left too cool off way too soon when all he’d wanted to do was play.