We ate steak for dinner.  Every fucking time when My Fucking Father puts the steak on my plate, My Fucking Mother insists I should check to see if it's cooked well enough.  It is; Father likes it on the rarer side, but it's not as if the damn thing's alive.  But without fucking fail, when she checks her steak, My Fucking Mother always says it's undercooked and has My Fucking Father put it on the grill outside to cook it some more.

I hesitate to say that she also tells me that my steak is undercooked and he has to cook it some more.  At least I don't want to say that it's every time.  But it was this time.  Even though the steak was a medium, maybe medium-rare, My Fucking Mother just fucking told My Fucking Father to cook it again.

And this might be the tie-in as to how My Fucking Parents have ruined my life.  They step in and do things for me because they think it's best for me.  They did it when they just gave me a new fucking bed.  They did it when they told me I had to go to summer school.  And they did when I had to wait to eat my steak.  I am fucking powerless because of the decisions they make for me, and it pisses me off.

Goddamn, when are they going to leave??

Addendum To: No Home To Come Home To

And another thing: I've felt it before, but I was able to shrug it off, but now, I am scared as hell that my parents want something from me every minute I'm at home.  Why can't you help me do this?  Why don't you do this in your bedroom?  What are you gonna do about this?  It feels non-stop now since they threw all my stuff away.  Just now My Fucking Father asked me what I'm going to do with the golf clubs.  I thought he wanted me to golf, and now he wants me to get rid of the golf clubs.  I don't know what I'm going to do with the golf clubs!  And he wants me to figure it out?  It wasn't fucking hurting anything to just ... leave it.  But now I have to worry about that, like I have to worry about this thing, and that thing, and that other goddamn thing. ...

And what the fuck is My Fucking Father doing with the shower curtains???  I have opened the shower curtains all the way.  It's what you're supposed to do to air it out and let it dry after showers.  But for some goddamn reason, for the past week or so I see the curtain tied up, or touched in a way that is obvious that My Fucking Father came into the bathroom.  Why?  I think that's his way of telling me to make sure I shower every day, like that's any of his fucking business.  If that's why he's doing that, well, I just faked taking a shower just now.  I know it's petty, and you could say I might as well shower for real if I'm going to do that, but seriously, fuck him, it ain't any of his goddamn business why I don't shower every goddamn day.  How fucking creepy is that bullshit?

Oh, every day he straightens out the bath towel I use, too.  That asshole doesn't have anything else to do in his doddering old age, does he?

No Home To Come Home To

I say all of this while I am sitting at home.  Irony, hypocrisy, I'll own up to all of that.

I'm afraid of coming home every day.  I just am.  Ever since My Fucking Parents threw all my shit out the house, ever since they gave me ultimatums to clean my room and myself, I don't feel welcome at home.  I just don't.  I guess I have felt this way before, and I might be repeating myself when I say this, but I'll say it anyway: This time feels different.  Them tooling around outside my bedroom door -- My Fucking Mother working on her sewing, My Fucking Father working outside doing God knows what -- was annoying before all this but now feels kind of threatening.  It's like they own the place.  Which they do, but I've never felt threatened that my stuff or I will be thrown out.

This past week has been relatively mild at work, and that lightening of workload could not have come at a worse time.  Because that means I have to go home, and I absolutely did not want to.  I was afraid to go home.  Back on Wednesday I went to the library to be a part of that fantasy football auction that no one showed up for, and I made a point to stay out as late as possible.  Because I knew that once I got home, I'd have to look in the trash bin and the recycling bin to see what else of mine they tried to throw away, which meant I had to retrieve it, throw it in my car, then make time to get to my storage unit.  One day I looked and saw that they tossed my old New Orleans Saints hat.  The fuck you are.  Then I have to see what else they moved inside my bedroom.  Did they throw anything away from here?  Did they move things around thinking that, like, hanging up my hats this way is best for me?  And what would they say, goddammit, how will they threaten me directly?

I shouldn't be feeling this way.  No one should.  Everyone should have shelter where they can relax and feel secure.  I don't care that I supposedly have a place here.  I don't have a place here.  My folks have made sure that they run this place and if they don't like something of mine, it's gone, and if I don't like it, then I'll be gone, too.  These are my fucking asshole parents, by the way.

---

I have thought about needing a new place to store my stuff -- not just because my place is changing ownership, but because there is more and more stuff I have had to move from home.  I have checked prices for my current size unit and the next step up, and the difference in price is so great that I have initially balked at it.

But after feeling that I won't be safe at home, I have largely stopped being resistant of getting a 5" x 10" now.  Part of it is the realization I just don't have enough space (and that does make me think I really have to go through my stuff).  But I'm starting to think I that I should spend some time in a larger spot ... not to go through my things, but to relax.

I'm serious.  I have had this fantasy (for lack of a better word) that I have moved all my things into a 5" x 10" but have enough floor space to open up a folding chair, close the door behind me, turn off the light ... and just nap.  I can't nap anymore at home because of all the damn racket those two do out there.  And I have no idea when, or even if, they're leaving.  So if I need real peace and quiet, I think that I might spend the extra money for a bigger spot, buy myself a folding chair, and make that place my new, and real, safe space.

Pathetic?  Probably.  But I need peace, man.

I Compromised. I Am Complicit

I have been taking a shower daily nowadays.  This is in reaction to My Fucking Father, and I can't believe he had the nerve to do this to me as I'm approaching 50, ordering me a few weeks ago to shower every day.  I don't want to shower every day.  In fact, they say it's not a good idea to shower daily.  You go every other day.  Hell, you can even get away with showering only twice a week!

But I haven't done that because, at some fucking point, I have to make my peace with these two jerks who aren't leaving anytime soon.  If My Fucking Father knows that I'm showering, maybe he'll back off from lecturing me about it, and maybe then he'll stop snooping around my room, or throwing my shit away.  At the same time, I have no clue whether he will stop at all.  And beyond that, this is me doing something (namely showering) that I don't want to do.  To me, this isn't just compromising.  I am bending the knee.  And a large part of me is ashamed of myself for knuckling under his stupid damn orders.  But hey, if I do knuckle under, I am part of the problem, goddammit.

Maybe Fuck Dinner

I am doing my level best to convey how upset I am that they have gone through and literally thrown away most of my stuff, but doing so in a passive-aggressive way so that I don't get thrown out of the house.  That's tough to do, considering that they still don't seem to give a shit.  But I might have been pushed to do something that could get their attention, if only because I am now tired of it myself.

Yesterday/Thursday was a no-spend day.  I was going to go in to work, leave work, and go home.  (I have my trepidations about doing that, but I will blog post about that at a later time.)  Work actually was light, light enough for me to come home at a decent hour, early enough to eat dinner with my folks.  But that didn't happen.  My Fucking Mother recently alluded to the fact that, because I had worked so late so often, My Fucking Parents don't eat dinner much, either.  So, regardless of when I come home, eating together has gotten quite rare in the last, oh, couple months, and we really haven't eaten together all that much since they came home.

What they do is leave food for me, and usually it's too much, way more than I would get for myself if we were eating together.  My Fucking Parents continue to say that I don't have to eat all the food they leave for me, but I know that's a goddamn lie.  I mean, they used the impetus of me spearheading donating my old car as an excuse to clean everything else I hold near and dear out.  (Don't care if that sounds like a conspiracy; I believe it.)  So I am under the gun to eat everything they laid out for me.  And for dinner last night, they laid out two pork chops, three pieces of Kentucky Fried Chicken, a bowl of spicy vegetables, tofu soup, and about a cup of rice.

That was so goddamn much it took me two hours to eat it all.  And I feel fat because I am fat after consuming that all.  And they're not even there.  So now, after they've taken everything important from me and done so under false pretenses, why in the fuck am I eating all this shit by myself?  If dinner is something we don't do anymore, why should I even eat at home anymore?  I mean, sometimes I will eat out.  But I am thinking that even on these no-spend days, I just go home and ... not eat.  And it doesn't matter if I get home late or early.  I just won't eat.  You know, I keep complaining about all this food and how it's fattening my belly and making me gain weight.  Why not ... just not eat?

And hey, it might send a message that I don't think we're a family anymore.  Because after the bullshit they just pulled, we're not.

And No One Showed Up

So my fantasy auction, for the fantasy football league I run, was last night.  Since most of the other members reside in the East Coast, I have traditionally scheduled it for 6 in the evening before the start of the NFL season, just to get the very latest news in case there are late injuries or cuts or anything like that.

This is supposed to be the most exciting day for the league and its members.  But, and I don't know how or why the juice is gone (although I can speculate), fewer and fewer members have shown up for the auction.  We have dwindled in number of members too, but when the auction starts, there has been at least one other person doing it live with me.

I actually left work early for this.  What I mean is that I usually clear the deck, aka make sure there is no work that is supposed to be done before the new day left over to the new day.  It was doubly important last/Wednesday night because I go from The Third Department to The Fourth Department today/Thursday, so I would literally be leaving any stuff I was supposed to do to someone else.  I hate when I have to do stuff that should have been done the day before, and so I do my best not to do it to anyone else.  Last/Wednesday night was an exception because hey, I've got my fantasy football auction!

I needed to take a crap after I punch out, then I miss my turn and have to take the long way to the library.  I have maybe two minutes to get into the library, swipe a guest pass, login, get to Yahoo! Fantasy Sports, log in there, then enter the auction.  It in fact already started with the first player, Ja'Marr Chase, having been nominated and on his way to one of my competitors.  I was about to apologize for being late until I saw that all of the icons next to all the other teams in the league were represented by the dueling circular arrows.  That means that they're not online and that the computer/algorithm is conducting the auction for that manager.

Everyone except me had that icon.  No one was at the auction except for me.

Looking on the bright side, I had budgeted 90 minutes to go through the auction, but it was over in 35.  On the down side ... well, no one gives a damn about this league anymore.  And we play for money!  It's gotten so bad that there are people who have rolling winnings and debts to the league stretching back years. I (as the commissioner) haven't sent the other managers their winnings because the other managers haven't asked for them.  In turn, I haven't asked people to settle up what they owe because ... well, I'm a toothless commissioner.  And so we just ... play, sorta.  Year after year, and although I love that we have been doing this for at least a decade, the lack of enthusiasm for our league, crystallized by everyone else no-showing for the auction ... ngl, it hurts a bit.

I think we'll just auto-pick from now on.

The Weekly MInnesota Sports Survey

#-1: Lynx (Last Week: -2).  So, the inevitable has become the official -- with their shellackings at Connecticut and home to Paige Bueckers and The Bastard Detroit (by way of Tulsa) Shock (and BTW, if you get around to see social media of Bueckers and her team at The Minnesota State Fair, do yourselves a favor and look through it all), the Lynx have sewn up The Best Record In The League and will have home-court advantage throughout the WNBA Playoffs.

Unfortunately, this past screening Week also includes a Loss to Seattle, a club fighting for a playoff spot.  Worse yet, Minnesota lost at Target Center.  Worst of all, they got blown out in the Second Half, usually a strong point, getting outscored 60-33 on their way to a 93-79 defeat.  Yes, they're 32-8.  But I have seen enough setbacks that make me seriously think they won't win the title.  They might not make it to the WNBA Finals because, well, sometimes they just don't show up.  That could be fatal, ironically, over the short series in the Quarterfinals (which are best-of-three) and Semifinals (which are best-of-five).  I still am not sure that they have it all.

And don't look now, but The Bastard Utah Starzz/San Antonio Silver Stars are in second place and have won a dozen in a row.  They host Minnesota Thursday.  They finish the road portion of their schedule this week with trips to Golden State and Indiana after visiting Vegas.

#-2: United FC (Last Week: -1).  I don't know if this was a principle I relied on in the past, but the two top teams this Week clinched something.  For the Loons it's a spot in the postseason by virtue of their 1-all Draw at home to Portland.  Ironically, MNUFC scored both Goals.  Nicolas Romero inadvertently failed to clear a centering pass lumbering across the face of goal in the 79th.  But then Robin Lod was able to corral a deft deep ball from Will Trapp, settle it once, and knock it into the net to tie it up despite being hassled by a defender:

Sorry, I don't know what that weird music's all about, but this was the only highlight of the Goal I could see on YouTube.

A note on that play: It features to Loons whom I had been real down on.  For about a season and a half, Lod was playing like a dud.  But then he scored in that U. S. Open Cup Final (which United FC lost to Atlanta), and really, he's been indispensable ever since, quietly and dutifully playing in any role he has been asked to play.  Meanwhile, I've thought Trapp has played too ploddingly and with some reckless abandon.  But this season he's been able to keep (relatively) clean on the pitch, plus he has added some contributions in scoring and, as you saw above, assisting.  Those two are playing well, and are two of many reasons why, believe it or not, MNUFC is one of the best sides in Major League Soccer.

I think they're on an International Break until the 13th, where the second-place-in-the-West Loons travel to take on first-place San Diego FC.

#-3: Gopher soccer (Last Week: -3).  Still kind of think they'll never be able to overcome that opening-Match collapse at home to BYU.  But these Gophers have recovered to win four in a row, with victories over Marquette (a 4-3 thriller at Robbie Stadium) and then a 2-0 Shutout Labor Afternoon at Brown.  One final non-con tune-up comes Friday night when they host Wisconsin-Milwaukee.

#-4: Gopher football (NEW SEASON!!).  Don't know how good Buffalo's supposed to be.  Hell, I don't know how good the U.'s supposed to be.  But better to win than to lose, and the Gophers pulled away in after Halftime to soundly defeat the Bulls, 23-10.  There was a lot of fundamental football (Offensive Line play, running the ball, turning the ball over without turning it over themselves) that has slowly become a hallmark of The P. J. Fleck Era, and that's not a bad thing.  Now comes a bodybag Game at home Saturday afternoon against Northwestern St.  Are they a second-division program?

#-5: Gopher volleyball (Last Week: -5).  Like I said, better to win than to lose, and the volleyballers ran the table this Week, winning over Cal Poly, Ball St. and St. Thomas, all at home.  But this is Minnesota I'm talking about, and they dropped one Set to both Cal Poly and St. Thomas.  Considering the historical caliber of Minnesota and how not good those two squads are, I am not impressed at all.  These should have been sweeps, all three of them.  That they're not is disconcerting.

The team's in Nashville this weekend.  They play Vanderbilt, a BcS school that has not had a women's volleyball program until this Year, Friday night, then another Music City university, Lipscomb, Saturday night.

#-6: Twins (Last Week: -4).  A 2-4 screening Week.  Last/Tuesday night was Bark In The Park, where you can bring your dogs (and maybe your pets) with you into Target Field.  That was not enough to populate the stadium, which, according to some photos I saw on social media, looked absolutely dead.  And why not -- the Twinks' Bullpen was their shitty post-Trade Deadline state again, giving up multiple Runs to the White Sox from the Fifth through the Eighth Innings on their way to a 12-3 pummeling.  They've dropped the first two Games of the series to the ChiSox, the only team in the Division below them.  A series Win over the weekend at home over San Diego is but a faded memory.

After tonight, they travel and play at Kansas City for a three-Game set over the weekend.  They then go out to Anaheim to play The Los Angeles Angels Of Anaheim Angels Of Los Angeles Of Anaheim Angels Of ... for a trio starting on Monday.

Expenses Without Receipts

Starting from Labor Day, also known as Monday, September 1:

• We start at Sunday, August 31, which was my last of four days at The Minnesota State Fair.  I noticed that did not get too many of the new foods because, like I said in a previous blog post, there wasn't a consensus new food (well, besides the soft serve beer, which may not be a food) that I would wait for hours to try.  (And by the way, the lines to the soft serve beer were non-existent.  It was hyped all over the place, as I did in that same previous blog post, but did it make enough money that justified a return on investment?)  There was that ube lumpia that I waited in line for, but it was getting late and the line didn't seem to move, so I bailed.  What I did get were the Maple Cream Nitro Cold Press Coffee from the Farmers Union; Granny's Green Apple Sucker Ice Cream; the new Aegean Dream beer from Dino's; a Cider Freeze, that iced apple juice in a plastic tube considered to be the cheapest Fair food you can find for many, many years; a corn dog (not a pronto pup, a corn dog, and it's the first time I've ever had a corn dog, I think); and an Aloha Pineapple Haze that was being sold only from the eating establishments inside the Warner Coliseum.  All told, I spent: $40.50.
• And Father paid me for getting Powerball tickets for him.  It's an Infusion of: $10.
• Saturday the 30th was the start of my alma mater's football season, and I'm glad they kicked ass.  This place upcharges for credit cards, and since the State Fair was replete with vendors that also did that, plus the Powerball being where it is right now, and I have used cash like I haven't since before the pandemic.  And this is a good thing because I should want to avoid giving away money if I don't have to, right?  With tip I paid: $32.
• Friday the 29th was my third trip to the Fair.  Had the yuzu meringue Croffle Cloud; the Bama! Lemon Sweet Tea mocktail; the Cherry Bigfoot Limeade Float from Tasti-Whip; the newest apple creation from the University of Minnesota, the First Kiss; a Bee-Nana Pie, one of the stalwarts of last year's rookie class of new foods; and the second time I had that Soft Serve Royal Raspberry Beer from West End Brews.  Total: $54.
• Tuesday, August 26 -- Father, paying me back for Powerball tickets, an Infusion of: $10.
• And I went to my game-watching bar to make sure everything was set for Saturday.  With tip I shelled out: $15.
• Monday the 25th: Father paid me back for Powerball, but I'm sure he didn't exactly pay me back on this date; I just put it here because I used cash on this day and I have a rule that if you are using one form of currency to pay for something, you need to use it again so it won't be lonely.  Anyway, this is an Infusion of: $50.
• To Sunday, August 24 ... I spent the evening going to Palmer's Bar, presumably for the last time, so I could see Cornbread Harris play as part of his longstanding Sunday night residency.  It'll end after three more Sundays because one of the owners stole from the century-old bar to pay for his drug addiction, and the other owners could not make up for that deficit, so they sold them the bar and, I assume, the land beneath it.  Fucking shame.  I tried to see Cornbread Harris play, but instead of the riser at the back of the bar, he just played on the floor at the front.  That meant there was a sea of people just standing in front of me, basically blocking my view of Mr. Harris for the whole two hours.  I was able to fight toward the band as other groups, who were talking to each other and not really there to see Cornbread, backed off.  But I got the feeling that in such a busy environment, everyone had the right to get close to the music as possible, so I cycled myself away, grabbed a second beer, sat outside and just drank through the end of the first set, intermission, and the beginning of the second set.  Not quite what I expected when my friend said we should go (she didn't join me), but I'm glad to have heard Mr. Harris and to be in that Minneapolis institution one final time.  Minneapolis Cider plus tip, tips for the band, and a mild polish sausage from a cart vendor who was just outside Palmer's: $17.
• Oh, before I took the light rail to Palmer's I dove into this, er, really clean downtown bodega called the Players Club.  I got Powerball tickets there totalling: $12.
• On Saturday the 23rd I went to The Great Minnesota Get-Together for the second time, primarily to see the Grandstand concert which was Atmosphere & Friends.  I wish I got the Somali Street Fries, but I had no idea at the time that the reviews would be nearly unanimous in their praise for it.  But I did go out on a limb and purchased the Sweet Squeakers (as well as a trusty small blueberry basil lemonade) from the Blue Barn; a frozen Blu from West End Brews (which I think is just LuLu's); and a Cherry Bigfoot Limeade Float.  Total damage: $44.75
• Thursday, August 21 ... went to the opening day (actually evening) of the State Fair since I got out of work at a decent hour to put in a properly long visit.  I usually go during the first day to knock off the mainstays I want to eat; my plan, even though I didn't really follow it this year, was to devote other visits to the new foods.  So, I got a pina colada from Manny's Tortas; the cheese curds from Mouth Trap; a honey lemonade (with tip) from the honey exhibit in the Agriculture-Horticulture Building; fried pickles; that soft-serve beer for the first time; a Minnecookiedough Pie; and a lychee colada from Union Hmong Kitchen at which I believe I got fucked out of six cents due to a combination of the owner not differentiating between cash and charge prices, the owner not getting dimes or nickels or pennies for change, and a really, really shitty cashier.  They had a new food for the Fair, but I stayed the hell away from them because I was upset.  Anyway, I notice that I usually get my fill of Fair food and drink once I cross the $50 threshold.  On this first day, I blew way, way past that: $72.75.
• To Wednesday the 20th, where I had the day off and spent the afternoon going to get my car washed.  I charged the wash, so I used cash for the tip: $5.
• I then got a shave from the learning school close by.  With tip: $14.
• Father paid me back for Powerball tickets, but I doubt he paid me back on this exact date.  An Infusion of: $20.
• On Tuesday, August 19 I fucked ***i*.  And thank Buddha inflation hasn't hit with her: $120.
• Monday the 18th ... I needed money to buy lottery tickets, so I stopped by the bank to get money.  I then walked over to Caribou to get a small mocha with oak milk, and I thought I might as well pay with cash instead of through the app.  I was shocked at how pricey it was.  Well, mochas these days are expensive, but I thought that oat milk for me was going to be free.  Turns out oat milk is free only if purchasing through the application; otherwise, it's a buck extra.  Well, shit, good to know.  But at least I got the trivia question right.  With tip: $7.03.
• Went to Hooters after work to use a calendar coupon.  Hooters also upcharges if you use your credit card, so I now primarily pay with moolah when at Hooters.  With tip: $32.
• Saturday, August 16 -- after watching the MNUFC Match I moseyed on over to the Midway Saloon.  I had a ton of beer that day, but I was thirsty, so I just bought a Coke.  With tip: $5.50.
• Father paid me back for Powerball tix, but I'm sure he didn't pay me back on this exact day.  Still, an Infusion of: $20.
• To Tuesday the 12th, where I went to my alumni game-watching bar to make sure 1) the bar was still standing and 2) that they would still welcome us.  With tip: $14.
• Father paid me back for Powerball tix, but I'm sure he didn't pay me back on this exact day.  Still, an Infusion of: $20.
• On Monday, August 11 I wanted to go to the Heights Theater to see Waiting For Guffman, which I have heard many great things about.  It's OK; it has those quotable lines ("I hate you, and your ass face!"), but otherwise it has that cringe mockumentary approach that I find somewhat condescending.  Paid money for the ticket, a small pop and popcorn, and tips for concessions and the organ player: $30.
• Back to Saturday, July 26 ... Palmfest was at Palmer's Bar.  It's a weekend-long festival of local bands just, you know, playing, which was Palmer's total reason to exist, and that reason was mover than enough.  Cover, an orange Jameson slushie, a Fulton 300, and tips for those two drinks came out to: $29.
• Wednesday the 23rd: Went to A Bar Of Their Own to watch a Women's EURO Semifinal.  It was raining cats and dogs out there, damn.  With tip I paid: $28.
• Father paid me back for Powerball tickets, and then some.  I think he paid me on this exact date.  An Infusion of: $20.
• Monday the 21st was the last week where **y said she could accommodate my, uh, carnal needs because her daughter was in class.  I hadn't been serviced by her in a long, long time.  Partly it was because of the distance, partly because she had people staying with her for an extended period.  But it was worth the wait because, like I said when I (kind of) blog posted about her, she bit my pee-pee.  Goddamn, that was glorious!  Total: $150.
• **y and I talked for a little bit, to catch up on old times.  She only went topless, but she put her bra and shirt on while I was laying on her daughter's bad, completely naked with my legs open.  But I had to leave, unfortunately.  Not only did she need to pick up her daughter, I had to go meet a friend who was only going to be in town until the next afternoon.  So I had to drive all the way from the south metro to the north to pick her up and decide to have a quick beer at this place I have never been to that's kind of close to where we both live.  She used her credit card for the both of us, so I paid her back for the drink and soup I got: $23.
• Finally, back on Saturday, July 19, after an alumni function, I made my (now annual) tradition of going to Tongue In Cheek to eat.  I was going to go for the steak, but because the guy sitting next to me did, I opted, for the second year in a row, for the ramen.  I think I was there a long time because I remember intently scrolling through my phone.  Anyway, with tip I paid a very, very expensive: $76.

And once again I say to myself I have to do these more often.  Good through September 1.

The Death Of Summer

Went to The Minnesota State Fair yesterday/Sunday -- for some peace and quiet.  It might sound paradoxical to say that since, well, everybody's at the State Fair.  But honestly, seeing everybody so happy (well, besides the kids crying because of something or other) gave me a serenity that's sorely lacking at home now.

They made me go through all my stuff even though it didn't hurt anyone.  They fucking rearranged my room.  They even got into the locked goddamn compartment in my desk.  They took everything.  They found everything that was in here ... which means, thank Buddha, that they didn't see my porn because I moved it all out to my storage space.  But I am looking at my bedroom, what is supposed to be my safe place, my fortress, and it is completely unrecognizable to me because both My Fucking Parents moved everything around to something they like even though I'm the one who has to live in it.

I have always been wistful on my last visit to the Fair.  I've always associated it with the end/death of summer, and so when I walk out of the Fairgrounds for the last time, to me it feels like I'm leaving summer behind me.  But I'm more sentimental and sad about summer this time around because of how shitty I feel because of the trauma My Fucking Parents inflicted on me.  It was so happy there, and because of that I was happy, and I could feel as though I could forget my worries for a few hours.  But while I tried to put it out of my mind, I still remembered that, at some point, the joy I felt had to end, and I had to return to a place where, frankly, I don't feel secure right now.  I leave the happiness of summer behind and enter a fall (the season I like the most, ironically) with two people who fucking torment me when they should be my champions.  And so it feels as though it's all crashing down.