Describe one simple thing you do that brings joy to your life.

Describe one simple thing you do that brings joy to your life.

One simple thing I do that brings joy to my life?

If I was younger the answer would be reading of course! I loved reading! Couldn’t get me away from a book!

Nowadays it would be snuggling with my cats and watching a Korean drama!

My cats are chaotic but when they lie in bed with me, it’s comforting to feel their warmth and hear their purr!

JOHN WICK 4 had so much potential

I had been eagerly waiting to watch John Wick 4, and this was my second attempt to watch it. But, oh my Lanta, I fell asleep! Can you believe it?

I had been so excited about the movie, especially because of the potential martial arts showdowns. Ipman vs John Wick? Hiroyuki Sanada vs John Wick? Scott Adkins vs John Wick? The possibilities had my inner martial artist fanatic jumping for joy!

not even the legendary Ipman could keep my interest. As the movie started, my mind began to wander off into a realm of imagination. I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if Sammo Law, Bolo Yeung, Jackie Chan, Jahal Merhi, Don the Dragon Wilson, Cynthia Rothrock, and even Chow Yun Fat were all in a movie together! The thought itself was so exciting that it overwhelmed me, and before I knew it, I had drifted off to sleep.

In all honesty, I must admit that throughout the John Wick series, there has been only one fight scene that truly stood out for me. It was in John Wick 1, the subway and stairs sequence. The battle between Common and Keanu Reeves was simply breathtaking. They both had such great screen presence and chemistry, making the scene unforgettable.

So here I am, feeling a little disappointed that I missed out on John Wick 4. But hey, sometimes even the most anticipated movies can’t keep us awake. I guess I’ll have to give it another shot and hope that my third attempt brings me the thrilling experience I’ve been waiting for.

Let’s hope the next movie I choose doesn’t end with me dozing off and missing out on all the action!


First things first, I woke up from the most uncomfortable sleep ever. Picture this: I made the genius decision of sleeping on my back, thinking it would be a good idea. Oh, how wrong I was! My vertebrae were cracking like a bag of chips, but the real problem was my stumpy leg. It had its own agenda and protested against this sleeping position. Apparently, it had a bone to pick with me, literally!

Despite my stiff back and grumpy leg, I summoned all my bravery to step outside. And guess what? The universe rewarded me with a breathtaking day of sunshine and beauty. It was like a scene from a postcard, and there I was, a walking disaster amidst all the splendor.

Now, the ultimate nemesis of my existence: stairs. Hazardous. I kept wondering if would it be faster to throw myself down rather than try dragging my leg after me! Walking up? I was sure it took 100 years to get to the top step!

To add to the madness, my dad had the audacity to ask me if I could climb into his truck. I mean, seriously? On a good day, I can barely pull off that stunt, and now, with my leg’s newfound grumpiness, it was an absolute no-go. I shot him a look of disbelief, silently saying, “Do you really think I’m capable of such gymnastics?”

my mom asked if I could change the cat litter, I couldn’t help but let out a jaw-dropping “No!” I mean, come on, how was I supposed to pull off that feat? It was like asking a penguin to fly. And right on cue, my dad came to the rescue, ready to battle the cat litter and save the day.

Summoning every ounce of energy left in my clumsy body, I managed to drag myself from the car to the rental building. Walking was an Olympic sport for me at this point, with my leg being the unpredictable wildcard. But hey, at least the pain was somewhat bearable. As I entered the building, the management was flabbergasted to see me in person. It had been months since my last in-person visit, and their surprised exclamations of “Rebecca!” echoed throughout the place. Oh, the joys of being a regular rent-paying celebrity!

In desperate need of some comfort food and company, I decided to head to the restaurant where I worked. I craved the presence of my coworkers, hoping their contagious energy would lift my spirits. But, as luck would have it, just as I emerged from my car, a truck decided to back up right next to me, almost turning me into a pancake. I couldn’t contain my frustration and unleashed a verbal storm on the reckless driver. I mean, seriously, was he trying to play a game of bumper cars? My dad, clueless as ever, innocently asked, “Becky, why are you yelling?” Sigh, some people just don’t get the drama of life.

Finally, I managed to escape the truck fiasco and made my way into the restaurant, only to find my colleagues in a state of perpetual grumpiness. They bombarded me with questions about why I wasn’t working. I frowned and replied, “Because I have been sick, duh!” It’s like they expected me to pull a rabbit out of a hat and start tap dancing or something.

But amidst the chaos, there was a silver lining. May, who had been stuck at the McCafé, emerged looking tired and stoic. I went up to her, concerned, and asked how she was holding up. Turns out, she had been on McCafe. She crushed my dreams of her being on lane 2 🤣

As the day winded down, I sought solace in the arms of my furry companions. Ah, my babies, they always knew how to make me smile. However, Willow, being the mischievous ball of fur she is, decided to pounce on my bad leg, sending waves of pain through my body. I let out a scream that could rival a horror movie, and poor Willow was terrified. But in a sweet turn of events, she came back to me, curled up on my lap, and started grooming me. It was her way of saying sorry, and honestly, who could resist the adorable guilt trip of a remorseful kitty?🐾


Today was a wonderful day.

I was able to sleep better. Move faster than a snail. Cut the Tylenol down to 4.

The skin on my leg is sensitive everything that touches me feels like paper cuts thankfully I have a CT scan next week.

I was really grateful for the online doctor appointment I was able to get yesterday. The doctor was kind and answered all the questions I had about my blood thinners and she eased my anxiety. I was also proud of myself that I spoke clearly and I started my concerns without a stammer.

Everything went well. My boss called as well to say I was put on medical leave return unknown. I would have my vacation pay as well on my paycheck.

I spent the day with my babies. Willow was jumping all over me. She had been unwell the past month and I guess she was happy. We all snuggle in bed to watch dramas.

When I’m sleeping at my parents, I forget that I don’t have Daisy or Willow. It makes me sad. I will watch something funny and comment about it to the cats. They are not with me!

The only thing that is bothersome is, climbing stairs.

Whispers in the Shadows: The Enigma of Celia’s Demise

The rain beat heavily against the window panes of Detective Theo Poe’s office, creating a somber symphony that echoed through the dimly lit room. The flickering light of a solitary candle cast eerie shadows on the walls, accentuating the brooding atmosphere that seemed to permeate every corner. A thick fog blanketed the streets outside, muffling the sounds of the city and adding to the sense of isolation that enveloped Poe’s world.

As Detective Poe sat at his desk, his weary eyes fixed on a stack of unsolved cases, his thoughts were interrupted by the creaking of the door. His boss, Inspector Montague, stood in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the dim light that seeped into the room.

“Poe,” Inspector Montague spoke in a deep, gravelly voice that matched his austere appearance. “I have a case for you, one that requires your… unique talents.”

Poe raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. Over the years, his fellow officers had grown distant, their disdain for his unorthodox methods evident in their glances and hushed whispers. But Inspector Montague had always been different. He saw something in Poe, a spark of brilliance amidst the shadows.

“What kind of case?” Poe inquired, his voice betraying a tinge of interest.

“It’s a murder, Poe,” Inspector Montague replied, his tone grave. “A young woman named Celia was found dead in her locked room, and there’s no sign of a forced entry. No windows, no secret passages. It’s a puzzle that defies logic, and I believe you’re the only one who can solve it.”

Poe’s mind raced with thoughts and theories, his curiosity overpowering his weariness. He had always been drawn to the enigmatic, the inexplicable, and this case seemed to offer a tantalizing challenge.

“Very well, Inspector,” Poe acquiesced, his eyes gleaming with a newfound determination. “I shall take the case.”

With that, the detective and his boss exchanged a nod of understanding, a silent acknowledgment of their shared passion for the dark and the mysterious.

Celia was a young woman of ethereal beauty, her porcelain skin contrasting with the raven-black locks that cascaded down her shoulders. Her eyes, a mesmerizing shade of green, held an unspoken sadness, as if burdened by secrets too heavy to bear. She possessed an air of mystery that both fascinated and haunted those who crossed her path.

Detective Poe had glimpsed fragments of Celia’s past through his investigation. Memories danced like ghosts in his mind, revealing a troubled childhood marked by neglect and abuse. She had sought solace in the shadows, finding comfort in the embrace of darkness. But now, as her life had been abruptly snuffed out, her troubled soul lingered, unable to find peace.

As Poe examined the crime scene, his thoughts were a whirlwind of emotions. The smell of death mingled with the scent of lilies that adorned the room, creating a paradoxical mix of beauty and decay. He observed the meticulously arranged furniture, the bookshelves lined with worn volumes, each one a window into Celia’s soul.

“What were you like, Celia?” Poe murmured to himself, his words lost in the emptiness of the room. “What secrets did you keep hidden within these walls?”

Celia’s personality began to take shape as Poe ventured deeper into the investigation. Through conversations with her acquaintances, he pieced together a portrait of a woman both alluring and elusive. She possessed a sharp wit and an uncanny ability to read people, but she also had a propensity for manipulation and a thirst for power that bordered on obsession.

In her interactions with others, Celia revealed her true nature through her piercing gaze, her subtle gestures, and her hauntingly beautiful smile. She was a chameleon, effortlessly adapting to her surroundings and charming those who fell under her spell. But beneath the surface, a darkness lurked, a shadow that threatened to consume her.

Meanwhile, Celia’s soul grappled with the harsh reality of her demise. She watched in despair as the living passed through her, oblivious to her presence. Her attempts to communicate went unanswered, her cries for help lost in the void. She was trapped in a world of silence, a ghostly specter condemned to wander the earth, forever yearning for release.

Poe’s investigation led him to Celia’s funeral, a somber affair that belied the secrets hidden within her family’s opulent estate. The grandeur of the mansion spoke of wealth and privilege, but the whispers that floated through the air hinted at a deep-rooted resentment.

As Poe approached Celia’s grieving family, their disdain for her was palpable. Their eyes, cold and unforgiving, met his with a venomous glare.

“Detective,” Celia’s father sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. “Save your sympathies for someone who deserves them. Our daughter was nothing but a burden, a stain on our good name.”

Poe felt a surge of anger rise within him, his fists clenching involuntarily. The darkness that had always resided in the depths of his soul seemed to awaken, whispering words of vengeance and retribution. But he suppressed his emotions, his face a mask of impassivity.

“I assure you, sir, I will do everything in my power to bring justice to Celia,” Poe replied, his voice steady and resolute.

The grandeur of the mansion gave way to a labyrinth of narrow alleyways, their cobblestones worn and weathered by time. The setting reflected Poe’s own inner turmoil, his soul a dark abyss consumed by thoughts of despair and madness. The tendrils of the night wrapped around him, caressing his troubled mind, as he delved deeper into the shadows.

Detective Poe’s thoughts grew darker with each passing moment. The weight of the case bore heavily upon his shoulders, threatening to engulf him in a sea of doubt and self-loathing. The faces of his fellow officers flashed in his mind, their sneers and condescending remarks echoing through the corridors of his memory.

“Madman,” they whispered. “Lunatic. He belongs in a sanitarium, not Scotland Yard.”

Poe’s heart ached with a profound sense of isolation. The darkness that had always been his ally now threatened to consume him, leaving him adrift in a sea of despair. But he pressed on, his determination unwavering, fueled by a flicker of hope that refused to be extinguished.

Amidst the gloom, Celia’s ghostly figure appeared, her eyes filled with an otherworldly light. She reached out to Poe, her ethereal hand passing through his, but he felt a surge of warmth, a spark of connection that he couldn’t ignore.

“I need your help, Detective,” Celia pleaded, her voice a faint whisper that only Poe could hear. “There is so much more to my death than meets the eye. You must uncover the truth.”

Poe strained his ears, his eyes searching the empty air, but he found no sign of Celia. His heart raced with a mixture of excitement and trepidation, his mind torn between the rational and the supernatural. But he knew he couldn’t turn his back on her plea, for he had been drawn into a world where reality and the ethereal converged.

In his tireless pursuit of the truth, Poe stumbled upon a

key piece of evidence hidden in the depths of Celia’s belongings. It was a letter, its words written with a delicate hand, bearing witness to a forbidden love that transcended societal boundaries. The revelation sent shivers down Poe’s spine, his mind racing to unravel the web of deceit that surrounded Celia’s life and death.

But as Poe delved deeper into the heart of the investigation, he overheard his fellow officers discussing him with a mixture of disdain and pity.

“Poor Poe,” one of them scoffed. “Lost in his delusions. He’s a danger to himself and others.”

The words cut through Poe’s soul like a dagger, the pain searing his very being. But he refused to let their judgment define him. With a steely resolve, he made a choice to prove them wrong, to demonstrate that his mind, despite its darkness, possessed an unwavering clarity.

In a moment of peril, when all seemed lost, Celia’s presence materialized once again, her ghostly figure glowing in the darkness. With a surge of determination, she whispered words of guidance and protection, her ethereal touch guiding Poe towards safety.

At that moment, a bond forged in the realms of the supernatural became a lifeline for both the living and the dead. Detective Theo Poe and Celia, trapped between worlds, embarked on a journey that would shatter the illusions of the living and unveil the truth that lay hidden in the shadows.

Do you remember life before the internet?

Do you remember life before the internet?

I remember life before I got internet.

The books I read. The music I listened to.

Going out on weekends.

I was journaling.

Life was simple.

Then I got a laptop. Suddenly I was on everything and everywhere at once. It was ok. I was in my 30s. There was so much to explore, so many people to chat with. Big mistake!

ICQ, AOL,, lava something other.

I was so happy because I could find all the information and manga I wanted.

Slowly, my interests started to dwindle as I became more active online. I rarely read, write. I discover more music.

In truth, there are times I wished I never discovered the internet.


“It’s Montecristo court”

“That’s not what it’s called”

“Does it look like I care what the proper name is? It’s the staircase! That’s what connects the cases”

“Don’t be stupid how does a stair case connect three murder case”

“It’s a serial killing. The stair case is out of sight. He hides and watches them. Be quiet I’m losing him..”

“Losing who?”

“He is there at the stair case. I said shut up! Jesus fucking Christ no wonder you haven’t solved a damn case! You can never think outside the box or better yet think at all!”

I was shouting to be heard over the clamour of voices. So many distractions and then he was gone. Like he hadn’t been there.

Just black blue swirling around- like a lava lamp made out of midnight blues.

I couldn’t believe it! He was right there! Almost tangible! Now he was gone!

Rage surged through me. I ripped off the mask and lunged for the bumbling incompetent detective “I am going to rip out your vocal box. Then your tongue because you can’t keep your fucking mouth shut! I had that bastard! Had him! But you fucking kept your lips flapping”

The detective squeaked. Struggling to free himself. “You’re a freak!” He gasped.

Hands pried him free. “You better not let me see or hear you. I will make your face uglier than it is now!” I promised “and stay away from my case from the victims families and the news. I will carve you up like a Christmas turkey!”

I woke up from my dream because the violence and fury in it was so shocking!

I laid there in bed, frozen from panic. First, I thought I was still in the dream. Second, my ears were still ringing from how loud, angry I sounded in my dream. Had I spoke out loud? I waited for a moment to see if anyone would come in to check on me. Nope.

Third, Had I ripped off my sleeping mask while I was dreaming? Nope still on my face.

In the dream I had psychic power (?) called Remote viewing. I could see people places in different areas places without being there. It’s like being a drone without an operator. But sometimes I had a premonition or two.

Wow that’s crazy how realistic that dream felt. Lucid dreams. Yet there was something else that woke me up aside from my voice. It had to do with the stairwell.


Why is it hard to keep track of time when someone is ill or injured? I thought today was Thursday.

I managed to get some sleep.

The last couple of days it felt like I got run over by a Mack truck. Headaches, no sleep. Couldn’t be comfortable in any position. I made zombies look good.

I had enough!

There I was, two pillows and one propped up against the two for back support.

I put Vicks Vapor rub all over. My chest, my back, under my nose. Put an ice cold wet towel over my lumpy leg. A cold towel on my eyes and settled in for a long night.

All went well. Finally had a good sleep.

After popping 6 Tylenol and two blood thinners a day I managed to lug my leg around with minimal pain. Getting up was a process.

Today I gave work my doctor note.

I was not in the mood to deal with customers or their kids.

Especially since one kid nearly ran into me.

“Get the fuck out of the way like this is not your house!” I snapped. “Stop running around!” That kid was lucky I didn’t shove him clear across the lobby, that’s how strong my reaction was to protect my injured leg. Do I want to feel anymore pain than I have to? No.

The mom’s reaction was priceless “don’t talk to my kid like that!”

I turned to her, my glare could have have left her dead in the streets. “This is a restaurant! Not your house. He wants to run? Go somewhere else where he won’t possibly hurt himself or others. Preferably in the middle of a street.” I turned on my heel to go to my manager.

My mom gasped in horror (🤣) after I told her what happened “Becky you can’t just say that to kids!”

“I can and I did.”

I visited my cats. I snuggled with my babies.

I spent the afternoon, cleaning, and snuggling my babies. I showered. I climbed into bed with Willow and we snuggled.

We laid in bed until dinner time when my mom came to pick me up.

Later on tonight my parents came home and glared at me.

“Becky, I had to wash your floor. You had no paper towels nothing how was I going to clean up Willow’s mess!”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. “there was poop bags!”

“What? How was I going to clean up poop with the bag?”

“Um you put your hand in it and use your bag like a glove.”

My mom went green!

“Don’t be ridiculous!” My dad exclaimed. “I can’t believe you said that!”

“Willow peed everywhere. Poop in front of the couch, in the bathroom everywhere!”

I frowned. “I cleaned her litter box.” I murmured “the other cat must have come in and scared her.”

“Well guess what you’re going to your house tomorrow and making sure she doesn’t make a mess again!”

I had a really good day. Now I just have to rest.


I chuckled when I read Virgo’s scent is rosemary. I abhor rosemary.

my color is dark green. Fascinating.

In my younger days I had quite an obsessive trait. I would fixate on something for approximately a year. Everything had to be about it. In essence that period of my life was called The Years

  • Red Year- nothing but red. I would wear red. Every thing had to be red! I looked like tomato!
  • Blue: nothing light blue.
  • Waffle knit: that drove my mom nuts! “Where am I supposed to get that sweater, Becky?” when I pointed out the picture.
  • Track suits: this also drove my mom nuts because it had to be a certain kind of track pants! Not jogging! Sporty spice!
  • Praeger shirts: i was obsessed with Psi Factor! Matt Frewer’s character Matt Praeger was my new obsession. He always wore shirts with a one or two stripes across the chest. “Stop it Becky! It is like the shirt!”
  • Green: everything was green.
  • Camouflage: bags, shirts, pants
  • Pink: my kitchen, bedroom living room and clothes were pink. I looked like a bottle of pepto dismal. I still cringe at image of my pink winter jacket🤢🤮😵‍💫
  • Black: this was my last year. My medication changed and my obsessiveness ended lol black living room. Black Bedroom. Skulls and spiders everywhere. I was trying to be cool with scary decor.

Some of my friends still laugh about my Pink Year. “You looked like a bottle of Pepto Bismal!”

What personal belongings do you hold most dear?

What personal belongings do you hold most dear?

My sister went to Arizona years ago and she brought a huge heart crystal for me. I use the box it came in as a memory box.

In it I have some knick-knacks that Kaileigh gave me when she was little. Some barbie Barrettes. A bracelet she made. For example.

I received a keychain from Hawaii. My friends went there on their honeymoon.

A piece of amber I purchased from a souvenir shop went to Sequoia Canyon in California.

But what is most precious? Was a watch, my late grandmother gave me for Christmas. I was around 10. It was gold, mesh band, and instead of having a normal clock face. Tiny zircon replaced the numbers. Little me thought it was real diamonds!!!🤣🤣

The mesh band is messed up but I can’t believe I still have it!