Dear diary, Here I am. In Arizona, with blake. Its so amazing. Absolutely amazing. But one thing, I hope this cough goes away soon. Honestly, I should probably do something about it. But anyway, Blake is doing great. We were just sitting down on the sofa and holding hands yesterday a lot. But anyway, aside from mismatched shoes. Yes mismatched shoes. I looked down at my shoes while I was at the airport, and found that they were mismatched. Ugh. I cannot stand mismatched anything. You know how women is, women have to have their shoes, dresses, outfits, everything matching. Anyway, that’s just me though. Anyway, just thought I might ask or let everyone know. I am in Phoenix for now for the week. Another blog post 9 days before. But anyway, I can’t wait to be in Phoenix. So moore. Maybe a little bit of explanation would do for exploration, excuse me? That’s just me.
I have 9 days till I hit the road. Blake is looking forward to this whole thing. But there’s a problem. I will not be able to post wordpress blog posts about my travel experiences. What I do plan to do, however, is post SoundCloud audio of the trip stuff to my SoundCloud files. It’ll be great. I’ll have to pay for WiFi and stuff at a hotel that doesn’t even have food or water. I gotta post my pics on FB for those to see. Also, the Jason cover photo is history! When Blake and I kiss at the airport, someone will snap a picture. Also, I found a great program for Pandora Radio called PianoBar. It’s amazing!
Also, one word for Aunt Christine: WHAT? You bought WHAT? for Blake? Excuse me? Ask Blake, he’d tell you more.
I’m really a bit nervous about meeting the poor woman for the first time, and I don’t know if she’ll ever do anything to keep Blake and I apart. I’ll say this, to your Aunt Christine, please do not buy what you bought for Blake again. We’re not stupid. Um, … University of Miami, we’re not Animals! Right now, I just wanna chill and listen to Pandora and play with my blog at the moment.
Blake, you better get din din. Laughs.
And when he said he was having nachos that Kathy wants to make, I’ll be like, “Um, gimme those nachos.” Kathy better teach me the art of her cooking. I know I am a jealous lady, but sometimes my cooking is a bit fattening. Who am I, Paula Deen? I don’t think so.
Well, that’s all, folks. Don’t forget to check out go fund me for more details. Emergency Vacation Fund needs some more money.
I was going to write this on the day of your would be twenty-first birthday, but something said I need to do it right now. I was beginning to think I could do a tribute to you on my radio show, but it would have been too much for your dear Blake, your older brother, so I decided against it. I canceled the show anyway because, well, if you found this letter in my blog, you’d freak out. Why? I have to sell a guitar. God, I wish you were alive to see this thing: a beautiful nylon acoustic Classical Yamaha thing with a nice black case and … yes, two golden picks. I’m selling it for $250, but alas, I’m a cursed woman, and can’t sell anything without people saying, “Cut the price.” I’m so mad because I need money and I want to barter my guitar for the bill money and money for a cab in Phoenix. I want to spend the day with Blake. I’m serious. His dad invites me down for Thanksgiving, and then I find myself without food, water, and money to obtain food and water for two of the days out of about seven. Chad, if you were here, I’d tell you this: I’d want to tell you how sorry I was for being as rude as I probably was.
Well, let me say it again: I am deeply sorry for the way I treated you, and I wish i could tell you earlier. As I write this, I cry thinking about what would have happened. I wanted to hear you play me something awesome, maybe you would have shown me what your skills were like on the guitar. Hey, I’d jam with you if I could. But here you are, somewhere where Blake and I can’t see you. Mom misses you a bunch, and she grieves you every day. Your mother screamed when she found you lying dead on the floor. Why did this happen to you? Please, I wish you were something more than just the guy I saw at Blake’s graduation.
I so wish that I had known you better through you, not Blake. I wish I could tell you that I played a bit on the guitar while in college, studied music, and so on. I had big dreams of being a choral director, but my independence took precedence over my dreams. Dreams like mine never seemed to come true. Not till there was Blake.
Blake was all the dreaming I wanted to do. If only you were alive and breathing to see the way I respect and like and think about Blake. I know we have our disagreements, but don’t all relationships have disagreements? Did you see my friend Carrie? She probably knows who you are by now. Carrie Loveridge was a sweet girl I knew back in the days. She went to a high school in Florida, and I never saw her after the age of eight, but I heard how she died. Sadly, her death was expected, and she died of cancer. Chad, I swear, you want Blake to get laid? Well, he doesn’t do that stuff. Please, hon, if you want to be Blake’s guardian angel, do not under any circumstances curse Blake with the regret of losing his virginity before marriage. I don’t want to hear Blake’s weird loss of virginity story over and over again. I won’t be the one to take it before he marries me, I swear.
And for one thing, I will always take care of him, love him, not at all lose sight of our goal. I want to be older than dirt when we are both dead, me and Blake. The last words I want to say are, “Blake, I love you.” Thinking about this may make anyone mad. But I want to carry something out that you didn’t get to. I promise if I have a gifted child, I will credit you with this. I swear on God’s right hand that you will be given some credit for the gifts my son/daughter may have. Blake will carry your line into eternity sometime, someday, somewhere far and away.
Chad, I wanted to be your sister, and I wanted to tell you I was sorry sometime, but why? I always ask why did this happen? Your mother’s grief is mine as much as hers, and I want to give Kathy a hug. If only I could give her a hug. If only if only the woodpecker sighs … sigh. I wouldn’t say it enough.
If I could do one thing for you when I see you in the sky, I would tell you, “You look lovely.” I would tell Blake his face was ruggedly handsome and even and pretty. I would tell you that you were playing beautifully on a golden harp, whatever God decides. Honestly, God has mercy on you, and he will bring you back to us sometime. When it is the end, the Lord will bring you back to us. When the Lord Christ comes back to this world, there won’t be the tears I cry daily for you. For your mother, I cry deeply and bitterly. I would never take advantage of Blake. Please, whisper sweet things to Kathy’s ear, tell her you are her son, always and forever. I weep for you and Blake, wishing you two had a better relationship. I honestly cry as I write this, the more I think about it I cry. Why did you have to leave us like this! Thank God you’re safe in the Blessed Mother’s palace, the Mother and Son in the Holy Family greet you warmly and will always watch your every step. You are the finest thing I’m sure Blake has ever known. I’ve never had a brother who went to Australia, never had a brother who played rock music. My brother, God please bless him, played trumpet. Ugh. My dad taught him. My brother was not learned like you were. For twenty years, you graced this earth with your presence, albeit good or bad things, you still had something there. I’m going to leave you with a couple stories I want to relay to you through this awesome blog I’ve kept. I know I’m altogether angry with myself for not saving you from that deathly wench who was your girlfriend, the deadly bomb that went off in your life altogether taking you with it. Let me tell you about my twenty-first birthday. I ordered wine with dinner, and I got a few presents. My parents and brothers and all went, and I was … yep, carded. I was asked to show an ID, and that’s when the waitress said, “Oh, it’s your twenty-first? Ok, we’ll do a Yee Hah for your birthday.” It was a roadhouse grill thing I went to, and it was fun. I hope I get to do this with Blake again. Here’s another thing I want to say: Luke Skywalker always had something good to say about his father, who by the current episode of Star Wars, is the late and evil Darth Vader. But Luke said, in all his honesty, “I feel the good in you.” He said even more, “I can’t kill my own father.” If you and Blake were in a situation like that, it would be I who would say, “Chad, do not try and mess things up for your brother.” Honestly, Kathy and I feel the good in you. I feel something about you that makes me ask myself, “Why would I ever say anything bad about someone as gifted as you were?” I am like Mr. Skywalker in Star Wars, I feel the good in you. Blake had his doubts, but he was like Princess Leia, the one who said in Episode 5, “Vader wants us all dead.” Well, Blake would have never said that you would want me or him dead, that’s not Blake. But I remember stories he told me, prayers he prayed, things that made him sad. Writing this has enabled me to feel a bit more at peace with myself and my grief. Honestly, I wanted to say I was sorry for whatever I might have said. I wanted to hug you, but I’ll have to wait till something weird happens: I get thrown out of the plane on the way to Phoenix, or some guy stabs me in the back, or I get shot in the face, or if I’m older than dirt and I’m lying in bed with Blake, slowly fading away. I don’t know what else to say. I wish you a very happy 21st birthday there with the angels and your friends who you have missed so dearly. Blake will be at the Spirit Room on Saturday to do something good for you. You would have loved it over there, and Blake says it’s awesome. I want to also say thank you for the life you tried to live, or have lived. I have a prayer I want to ask God to do in my favor:
Dear Lord, bless Blake, and the memory of his brother. Please, dear Lord, bless the mother of the one I love so dearly. Bless Kathy and protect her from feeling awful all the time, give her a better day every day, and when she feels bad, whisper sweet nothings to her like she never heard them before. Whisper sweet things to her like nothing ever happened. Call her name, she’s waiting for something. If that wench goes to the lake of fire, I mean your dear servant Chad’s ill fit girlfriend, I swear I want you to not let Kathy see her burn up like she probably is, according to your sacred word. Blake reads your sacred word. Let him continue to become more devout every day. Lord, I want you to lift Blake up on Saturday and Friday, let him see how much people care for him, let him be with me for all the days I’m down there, and … for my sake, bless his father with a deep understanding of who you are. G-man? Um, that’s a garbage man. But bless Blake’s dear old man with a yearning and a desire to understand Blake’s faith. I don’t want to see Blake upset because his dad doesn’t like his girlfriend. I hate to see Blake upset because of what happened to your servant Chad. Please bless his memory and all his friends who are still stuck here and not able to join him in prayer and song. Give Chad a sweeeter voice than any of the angels I’ve ever heard, and let him join in the chorus of cherubim and seraphim as they sing your praises forever. This may sound weird, but I’ve wanted this forever. I want to hold Blake in his times of grief, and this tragedy brought us even closer. Continue to bring us closer.
To Chad, I write this in your memory, to say I hope that when I see you in the heavens above, you and I will never have a disagreement or a rude word pass between us. I wanted to take care of some unfinished business. That’s what it’s called in ghost land, and I don’t want to be the living impaired person who has too much unfinished business to take care of. But I’m alive, and I still have unfinished business to take care of. Anyway, thank you for your life, albeit a short but the most productive life Blake and I have ever seen!
With love and hugs,
Beth, Blake, and Kathy, your dear brother, sister potential, and mother
Dear Readers and friends,
I’m sorry to report that Blake and I are in a snag to seeing each other. I bought two plane tickets with two airlines, and I will not cancel the tickets fares reservations whatever you call them. They were over $200, and I had no caregiver on Friday, and I refuse to say that the person who bought my groceries had to spend whatever it meant to spend on Groceries. I will not give up on spending time with Blake because of finances, that is a stupid reason to give up. Mark 10:9 may only apply to married people in the churchpeople’s minds, but Blake and I will someday wed and bear children, and I wish people would see how much I would spend to be with him. I’d rather spend money to see him, but his dad was supposed to pay me back. My parents are unsupportive of relationships because of the Jason curse and other silly matters. I will do a Gofundme if I must because I don’t see why anyone would tell me to OWN IT. I”m sorry, but I”m being told I’m obsessed, and Blake doesn’t know where to go. I want money and a job. I must be lifted from these circumstances because it’s simply not good for me mentally. I’m not going to give Blake up because of something my parents want. In fact, I’m not going down to Florida because of my parents’ uncomfortability with relationships and treating me as though I was Katie, the dog I had when I was about 2 to 4 years old. Katie is in Dog heaven now, probably chasing balls and squirrels with Jesus and other dog companions. God bless Katie, she was probably God’s most loyal creature ever.
I’m not even kidding. There’s this funny poem called I will call you Dog My Friend. Jesus didn’t know what the creature was that followed him around and stood at heel with him, and he said, “I will give you my name from front to back, and I’ll call you Dog my friend.” Well, dogs are man’s best friend, and we are made in God’s image and likeness. How can I own anything without going to Phoenix? I can’t pay lyft, and I don’t wanna be in a negative $500 or whatever, and I won’t be able to refund the tickets without penalty of a significant amount more. So forget it, I”m going. IF Mr. Norris, Blake’s dear old man, would please pay me back, I wouldn’t have to go this far. I wouldn’t have to go so far as to do a Go Fund Me crowd funding source to do fundraising to get my bills paid. Some people want abortions with that, but I’m not paying for the murder of my dear unborn child. I’m serious. I would never pay for that. I just want $300 to pay my bills, and if there are working people who could please help me go on this vacation, I don’t care what my parents say. I want funds to do it and I can’t get a job at this point. I’m sick of staying alone at my apartment. I’m sick of just staying with family whose blood children aren’t my lovers. I want my lover, Blake, and I want him … now. He doesn’t really like dogs or cats, and I wish he had a dog. Doesn’t he know I’m as loyal as any puppy to him? Ok, I’m not the dog, but if I were Blake’s guide dog, God I’d be treated better than this. I’d work my daily rounds with Blake for a cup of kibbles and bits for God’s sake. IF only I were a butterfly, I could fly to Phoenix faster than the speed of sound, and I’d drop on Blake’s shoulder and turn back into me. I’d never want to lose him for that moment, in that moment, from this moment on.
I know that my mom and dad would be angry with me, but I must go on a vacation and Blake’s dad was supposed to pay me back, but then I spoke to two friends from my church, who said I can’t give you anything. Sorry, but fine. I’ll find some other way. I must have money, and it must be $2000 per month, I don’t care if that adds on to six figures, I need the money so I can pay the rent for a fair market apartment, pay for my wedding without going into debt, etc. I don’t care!
Please, my dear friends, help me. IF you live in the U.S., I’ll have a Go Fund Me site up soon, and if anyone can give $10 … if I had thirty people give ten dollars, I’d be happiest. I don’t care if only one person gets me a few, but this money will ease the burden of having to pay bills, ease Blake’s dad’s burden, I don’t care. I just want to see Blake again, and it hurts me to hear Kathy scream like this, “Why did you do this to me!” It hurts me to see Blake upset because he can’t go anywhere from here, can’t come to Denver, etc. It hurts me to see myself upset because I never will see Blake if I can’t prove his family wrong. I expect a reward for being so damn loyal, and I wish God would give me the strength to be a more loyal person, but I may be a bit too loyal. I’m not leaving Blake in Phoenix until I die. I’m not going to stop loving my boyfriend till I’m dead. Not till the day I drop dead.
IF I could tell myself at six how it felt to be abused, I would say, “Bad.” Just a three letter word for something so horrendous: “Princesses are not real.” Give me a break, family. I want a prince in my life, and all the other boyfriends were frogs, and Jason was … a rotten toad. He was too rotten for me. Blake is a frog that I kissed, even in my mind, and according to Czech legend, if you kiss a frog and it turns into a prince, you’ve found the right one. A lady named Erika told me this, and I’ve believed it somehow. Well, not real frogs. But personality wise, a lot of men are frogs. Blake is not a frog. He is a handsome prince. He became my prince when I laid my hand in his, when my dreams were infiltrated with a longing unlike any other. When he said he loved me, I stopped thinking about Jason. Blake, when I hear you say, “I love you.”, it makes me feel as though the world stops turning. When he says he loves me, I feel like the Queen of Denver. I feel like I’m the Queen of Denver, and I am someone valuable and special. It’s not in the roses I get, it’s not the diamonds that other men might buy me or my body with. It’s the words. Words are like weapons, but there are purr words as Hayakawa might have said. The great philosopher Hayakawa said things about “snarl words and purr words.” When you say you love me, my Blake, the words, … feels like a purr of a cat. Isn’t that a good thing? I’m not kidding. When you said you cared about me, I felt so valued and loved, I did not need a single rose. I don’t care if you are poor, penniless, you at least have a family, you’re not those weirdos on the street, etc. I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again, but my heart beats your name every night. Blake, dear, you have so many things to tell me. I don’t want to be angry with you, I”m not.
It just helps me to say I’m in tears writing this entry, I’ve lost potential lovers with my family around, and now there’s you. I know the perfect song for you:
“There were bells on the hill,
But I never heard them ringing.
No I never heard them at all till there was you.
There were birds in the sky, but I never heard them singing,
No I never heard them at all,
Till there was you.”
Wonderful quote there.
Guys, if you really cared I know you’d all read this and respond accordingly. I know I should OWN this, but I can’t own this and go financially downhill like this, I can’t afford to lose my house and stuff. I must go, and I can’t lose Blake, but he’s more important.
Thank you all.
After looking through my entries from the past God knows how many days, I’ve decided to come out and be honest about what’s going on: Blake and I had a fight. But I’m really mad that Blake just sits there and throws me off the phone after I try and be with him for a while. I told him I needed him, and he goes, “See ya.” What? For reals? After I spend a second on the phone with you after a group call with friends? I am afraid of losing you to someone like, uh, N.C. or some one else who could be in Arizona. Miss Arizona could be blonde, pretty, and skinny as hell. She could be a dancer, model, or singer, and she could attract Blake with her good looks and sweet sounding, practically sick sounding, voice. I don’t want to hear such a devilish sound from a blonde lady. I hate blonde men already because of Jason Lawrence. I would never date a pure Caucasian guy because all of the ones in my hometown rejected me. I’m not saying I’m racist, but I’ve had it with all those sadistic men on my plane, my personal love plane, throwing me around and saying that I’m not included for ever.
Well, Blake got into a fight with me about going out with friends, and he says he’s envious. Well, Blake, here’s what I’m jealous of: you have a brother who cared about you for once. I had two who didn’t. I don’t know what is worse, a brother who wears ties, thinks he can buy his girlfriend flowers, and gold, or someone who plays the guitar of all instruments and can go places with others. Chad went to Australia for heaven’s sakes, and I actually had a memory of someone in Australia. Chris West.
Yes, Chris West was a pretty ok guy, he was sweet in some ways, but there were a lot of things I hated about Chris. Things like his accusations and allegations of harassment and the “flowery words” he so hated about me. Here are ten things, though, I hate about my life, and ten things I like about it.
Ten Things I Hate About Me
1. I’m fat.
2. I’m probably more ill than I realized.
3. I am incapacitated of most of my civil rights.
4. Guys hate me.
5. I can’t go out anywhere because I don’t have much money.
6. Rehab sucks.
7. Getting a job is not as easy as you think: apply, interview, and go.
8. I personally hate when my family wants me down for Christmas, but I don’t know for sure that they’re going to do what they say they’re gonna do. They said I could grow up and live a life, but still, they ask for my lab results so they can skew it to their side.
9. Nobody wants to be a partner to me. Is Blake going to do this? Is he really important to me? Am I important to me?
10. Blindness in so many people’s eyes is not respectable, and I’m not saying it’s not respectable for me.
Ten Things I Like About Me
And I’m going to put these things in order from ten to one
\10. Denver is a good city with lots of disabled apartment complexes for the disabled and stuff.
9. I have a lot of friends who support what I want to do with … number 1.
8. I find solace in watching the Broncos win football games.
7. When I think about people like Kathy and what she’s going through, it reminds me I am sympathetic and empathetic toward others.
6. I have hopes and dreams, like everyone else does, and want so badly to pursue such things.
5. I love food.
4. I wish I could be in Arizona right now, and trust me, I’d do anything to be with … my number 1 man.
3. I love books, and reading is a good activity I use to fill my mind with questions about stuff.
2. Music is a big thing for me. Like Blake’s brother was, I am a musician. I don’t know if Chad could possibly touch Blake’s offspring with the gift of music, but that could be a possibility.
1. Blake Tucker, my one and only. Yes, he may be a flirt by nature, but Jessie doesn’t realize that we’ve had such a close bond that if he breaks up with me, people are already thinking of taking him off the list for Skype. It’s amazing how many people actually supported us and continue to do so. But I do have a note for Blake:
I wish you were a more loving partner. I wish you would apologize to me for flirting behind my back with Haley. And Nick wouldn’t like that. Honestly, Blake, you are a sweetheart, but you don’t know how to act in relationships. Learn for a second how to be in a relationship. For God’s sake, please respect my wishes and don’t flirt with ladies who aren’t your girlfriend. Pattie and Tammy are fine people, and they’re Christians. Fine, but Tammy won’t give you a child with her labors because from what I gather, she’s older than you by a billion years. No, not eighty, more like forty. And you know Pattie is married, but please tell me you care. Please, Jessie said you were leading me on. For God’s sake, Blake, don’t lead me on anymore. Just love me for me. I wanted a man who would at least make things up to me, make an effort to see me, promise me he won’t do anything to undermine our relationship. When you said I couldn’t go on a long day out with my friends, you were bringing back a flashback with Jason Owens again. Honestly, we don’t fight. We don’t fight that often, but you’ve fought too much hon. I’m not breaking up with you, but Blake there are three things I don’t like in a relationship: cheating, disrespectful things and moves on other women, which do include sexually cheating on a woman, and abuse of the wife you have. Blake, what is it going to take to get you to be my husband? What will it take? What does it take to get one in the first place? If it means moving out of Denver and into Arizona, that is what it will take. We will be in Flagstaff, settle in to an apartment, and so on. But Blake, what about mental health care? What about a decent Christian counselor who will pray for us both? What about marriage and family counseling and couples and family counselors who are decent enough not to do their New Age practices you hate so much with a passion? What about emergency healthcare, and what will the governor of that state do with Medicaid expansion? Politics are affecting my life as much as yours. We need to pay attention to the politics, and that’s it. Politics will be paid attention to because of all the stuff going on with Obamacare. We have to be careful of our kids. What if my daughter or son comes down with psychological illness like I did, and what if it’s my fault? What if my son drinks like a fish all kinds of alcoholic beverages? What if my son/daughter overdoses on heroin? I want a state that cares about my family and doesn’t blame our blindness and my other stuff for what happens to my kids. I can’t make eye contact, so forget about that. But Blake, I want my kids to be healthy and happy, and strike a good balance between screen time and sports and athletics if possible. If we have a spina bifida baby, we must be prepared to say, “We need barrier free housing because of this child in a wheelchair.” What if we have someone like Dannie DiSpirit, a girl from the Chicken Soup books who has lots of tubes and alarms on her chair to keep her alive. She will die without her vent, and all that stuff. Read the story, “A Girl In a Not So Normal Chair.” You’ll see what I mean. Dannie is a sweet girl, but she has so many disabilities. She seems normal, and she’s fine to me though. She can put makeup on and stuff. But like a lot of other people, society stares at her. It’s like they always do, they stare at us and make a mockery of a society that needs to foster a sense of independence for disabled folks. Blake, I want my kids to stay with us. I want to adopt if we can’t give birth. Either way, I want kids. I want a family, just a couple of kids. I want to have a sick child, a sick husband, whatever. Anything but guardianship and incapacitation. My parents sinned, but I can’t trust them anymore because of that sin. And I wish my church pastor would see this. What ails me is that they’re still alive, keeping me watched and guarded in a prison called Fear of Disability. Fears are stupid, and we have nothing to fear but fear itself, so FDR would put it. Blake, I will see you again. This is not where it ends. I will carry you with me till I see you again.
What a weekend it’s been, and what a weird one it will be next weekend. I went to a workshop on entertainment industry stuff, and found that maybe I oughta get my feet wet, but I really am in some dire need. I told the lady in charge that I can’t do head shots, and so on. Not in a pro studio because the professionality of it so might cost me more money than I can afford. I need professional head shots so that I can look nice. I want to do some good ones, maybe some bridal pics and stuff. I don’t know what will happen.
Kathy is fine, but Blake is saying some scary stuff. Clairvoyance, sleepwalking, slurred speech, not making any damn sense. What the hell is going on! Jennifer tested me for that. I’m saying Jennifer S. She tested me for clairvoyance last night. She’s nuts. How could I, Beth Taurasi, an ordinary person who has ordinary shit to do, have such a power? I dreamed about having such things, but no, I don’t. Clairvoyance is the weirdest thing I don’t understand. Clairvoyance is weirder than I thought, and some stuff in it is dangerous. I know for sure that Blake’s would be sister in law is probably a bad spirit, but Chad is good, and he didn’t want to go. But I can’t talk to dead people. Jennifer says I probably do, and I thought she heard shit last night. Holy God. Oh God. Hep! … Can’t think right now.
Another Audition, Results, and … Blake! I Am Here!
It is now October, and I’m sorry I haven’t written you in a while. I auditioned for Actors, Models, and Talent for Christ, but was told to do a pre prep workshop before I could perform. Darn it. Honestly, what if they teach me to polish a look? I can’t do that sort of thing if I can’t see myself in the mirror. Ewwwwww. I can’t see myself in the mirror, and that is a bad idea. I’m not in favor of basic modeling, and of course they’d want me to be the very best, but as a blind woman, I can’t make eye contact with the camera. They’ll demand retakes of all my pics, and I’ll never know what they all look like because I can’t see. This is stupid. I can’t see why they’d want me to do modeling and acting, which is both inappropriate for blind people and in the case of modeling, insufficient to let a blind person do what he/she wants. I can’t, for instance, say I’m looking good enough to model for a car company. I can’t do that. I can’t model for people because I don’t believe I’m good looking enough. The Voice rejected me because of blindness, I swear it was blindness. They should have taken me on and allowed me. Also, it was because of my body image and they don’t want that kind of “image” on stage. What if this happens at the pre shine workshop I’m probably gonna register for? What about the Bridge tuition? I need more money for that, and I want to see where this goes. Idk what I’m going to do. I’m just not good looking enough, and as a disabled woman, I’m probably undesirable to a lot of people, except Blake. Blake wants me because it’s my insides, but what do sighted guys want? Looks, looks, looks. I’m not going for that. Envy is a plant that should never be watered. I’m not trying to say I shouldn’t look clean and groomed, but if my body is the way it is, I can’t change it. I can’t get a tummy tuck and plastic surgery because it’s not covered by insurance. My parents might even tell me I can’t walk around in a certain gown and so on. Well, they could tell me no even if I’m 50. So I’m out of their grip, and I”m gonna stay that way. But for Blake, there’s more desire in me. Blake desires me because we’ve both been through hell with family stuff. I can talk about family probs with Blake because he supports me in all ways. Jessie, one of my newest friends, is from Florida, and I’ll have him guard me when my parents walk in to the hotel room. I’ll just have him say, “You’re not welcome. A performer is in this room, and you aren’t allowe4d in.” IF that doesn’t work, I’ll call the front desk and say they’re not welcome guardian or not. I want them gone, out of here, whatever. The only time they can be welcome is if they promise not to take me to Titusville, and they will sign a paper that says they can’t do so. That’ll do it. But what if they disobey the rule? Jessie is blind, and they could just say one thing and do another. I’ve had many people do this to me, say one thing and do another. That drives me nuts. But Jessie is not like that. He’s sweet, but he’s not the sort of guy who could possibly steal me from Blake. We talk, but it’s not like we’re gonna date. I have no interest in dating Jessie, just being friends. I’m setting the record straight. Jessie and I have no interest in anyone seeing text messages and phone calls between each other. That’s bogus. I would not be surprised if a hacker breached my phone and saw the texts from say, Blake. Blake would say, “I love you. Baby, I wanna feel you right next to me.” I’d go, “Oh, baby. ❤ I love you." Blake woulod throw back at me a message or something loving and stuff, and people would see the texts and go, "Ewwwwwwww. Scandalous." But the big thing is, I am not taking nude selfies. I don't want nude selfies to appear online. I would NEVER take such pics. I'm not stupid am I? Cathy would kill Blake for seeing me nude. IF she saw me in the Nude, she'd probably shoot me silly. So, in light of what I'm about to do, in the singing business, I'm warning you all, do not ask me to send you nude pics and so on. Naked pics are not my thing. I don't send any kind of nude pics, I don't want provocative pics either, revealing clothes, etc. I have a much more modest look, and my body is special. Blake doesn't care if I'm fat, thin, or really plump. I'm going to get plump again, so if Blake doesn't desire me, so what. He has to, I will be his wife, and if he doesn't become attracted to me, then what is the point! I would rather have a guy be attracted to what's on the inside. Blake loves all of it, inside and out. All you modeling agencies out there, don't ask me to model sexually provocative Lane Bryant stuff. Ewwwwwwwww. Don't ask me to wear feathered bras, and don't do it to a toddler near where I'm standing. Ew. Yuck.
Ok, rant over. I'm done here. I just am going to pray and hope that the pre shine Bridge thing works good. They've had broken links like hell, and I'm having to offer to help them keep compliance with the ADA since they could find the next Ginny Owens, who is blind. Peace.