Pursuing Purpose

(15+15=30

Three

Five

Nine

onE

thrEE

fivE

sEvEn

A definition of an even number is that it can be divided by 2 and the result is a whole number. Since you cannot divide zero, you cant divide it by 2 and that means that zero is an odd number.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parity_of_zero

https://www.britannica.com/story/is-zero-an-even-or-an-odd-number

https://www.scienceabc.com/nature/zero-odd-even.html Quote from this one “ So, technically, [zero] is even. In fact, it is the most even number there is.”

How many times have I done this so far

I’ve done this like… three, maybe four times so far

Do you really want to know

$7.25 x 40 hour full time work week: $290

$290 x 4 weeks per month: $1,160

That weekly check comes to, according to you, 290. Most places DO NOT pay for your half hour lunch that is required by law. So your beginning number was wrong. $7.25 x 7.5 hours a day x 5 days a week only gets you $271.88.  Most people in America get paid bi-weekly, so let’s double it to get the budget. $543.75. That’s GROSS, not NET. Out of that comes anywhere between 10% and 15% taxes depending on state so we’ll low ball it at 10%. Automatically down to $489.38 a pay check. Now health insurance. Usually anywhere from 70-100 a pay check for the cheapest plans. Again, we’ll low ball and go $70. So now we have $419.39 a paycheck. x 2  = $839. 

Eight hundred thirty nine dollars. A MONTH.

But again, you seem to think that’s fair. So let’s proceed. You say rent is $500? Okay. This person now has $339 left to buy groceries for the whole month, pay utilities, car payment, car insurance, and gas money to get to work. 

Those are the bare needs. You have to eat. You have to pay for heat, water, garbage removal, gas and or electricity because apartments do not always include things and rarely all of the above. Most cities in America do not have public transportation. Mine doesn’t despite the fact that our population is over 15,000 people, not counting a taxi. If you have a car, you have to pay that. If you have a car, legally you have to have car insurance. You have to pay that. You have to have gas in that car to get to work to make that money.

Now if you can tell me you can get all of that out of $339 you’re lying.

You are so focused on rent that you aren’t thinking about everything else people have to pay for. Rent was an example. This is a breakdown of the budget you gave me and it’s not possible to live off that in 2017 America. 

And BECAUSE this person makes over $800 a month, they probably won’t qualify for financial aid or food stamps. $800 is the line in my state where they won’t help you. No food stamps, financial aid, or government housing if you make more than $800 a month. 

I splayed my fingers over the notebook page in front of me. It was blank, save for a few doodles populating the margins. They weren’t good, but at least they were recognizable. Wonder Woman. Daphne from Scooby-Doo. A poorly rendered Katara.

I twisted in my seat, back cracking like a glow stick. Tyler stood behind me, hands stuffed into the pockets of his shorts. His grin was a little crooked in the way that I knew most girls at school liked. I guess it was pleasant enough, if you took the time to consider it.

“My going rate is five dollars,” I said, shifting my elbow on my desk so it covered my notebook. The barest suggestion of heat filled my cheeks at the mere thought of getting caught drawing Daphne in my notebook. I’d drawn little hearts around her head and everything.

Tyler pulled a crumpled up five dollar bill from his pocket, smoothing it out as best he could before extending it to me. It still retained most of its original crinkles, looking more like crumpled tissue paper than money. 

Snatching it from his hands, I tugged on the bill, holding it up to the disgusting fluorescents that schools were so fond of. I didn’t know what I was looking for, exactly, but I’d seen my dad hold up $100 bills to lamps. And besides—it made me look official.

I folded the five in half and tucked it into the breast pocket of my old flannel shirt. “Who’s it for?”

I didn’t have to specify exactly what Tyler was hiring me for. All of the boys in school knew about my “service,” as it were: I wrote love poems for them to give to their girlfriends. They were never more than a few lines long, and rarely specific, unless the boys gave me something they wanted to say. 

I got the feeling Tyler wasn’t going to give me any specifics, the way he kept aiming that stupid grin at me. I kept my expression impassive as I blinked at him, waiting for an answer.

“Keira Haggerty.”

It was truly a struggle to keep my expression tame. I’d written poem upon poem before, for dozens of boys about dozens of girls. But I’d never written one for someone like Keira before. Unlike Tyler, she wasn’t super popular, but she was super pretty. She had these brown eyes that somehow looked good in the bright hospital lighting of our middle school classrooms, and her curly hair was the color of cinnamon. And her lips—

I had to stop. My heart felt caught in my throat as I pushed my feelings down, down, down. “I didn’t know you two were dating,” I managed, casting a glance across the classroom where Keira sat bent over her notebook, scribbling away. Throughout the school, she was known for her art skills—she’d even gotten an award from the art department last year.

“We’re not,” Tyler said. He bit down on his lower lip quickly, tossing a look at Keira. “Yet,” he added, the word spat out faster than the others. “I hope this poem will be a good way to ask her out.”

“So you want me to write a poem asking her out?”

Tyler nodded, his floppy blond hair dropping over his eyes. He tossed his head almost violently to the side, clearing the strands from his face. It was a classic popular-guy move. Was it meant to show how nice their hair was? I don’t know. It wasn’t the same as when Keira twirled a curl around her pencil.

“Sure,” I said. “I’ll give it to you at lunch, ‘kay?”

Tyler nodded and spun on his heels, bouncing to his group in the back of the class. He fist bumped with one of his cronies and tossed himself into his chair with reckless abandon. The teacher began her lesson on the Civil War, but I wasn’t planning on listening to any of it.

I’d never admitted this to anyone, but I’ve had a crush on Keira since fifth grade. I didn’t even know it was a crush, at first—I’d admired her art, the way she colored the lips, the way the freckles dotted her portraits, how she knew exactly where the light was supposed to be. And I liked watching her get better over the years. She put my superhero doodles to shame.

At some point—and I don’t know what point—I looked at Keira’s drawings less and looked at Keira more. I liked the way she had graphite smudged across her fingertips, or clay still stuck under her nails. I liked the brown of her skin, how it seemed warm no matter what season it was. I liked the sound of her laugh from across the library, and the giggles that followed after the librarian shushed her and her other art friends.

It was easy to write Tyler’s poem. I talked about her art, her callused hands, how she captured images of people so well and I wished she could capture me, too. Just…not on paper. I wanted her to capture me in her arms and hold me and kiss me and stroke my hair and dot paint on my nose.

When I finished, I smoothed my hands across my notebook sheet and carefully tore it on the perforated line, making sure the rip wasn’t perfect like a boy’s wouldn’t have been. It was a last ditch effort, because the poem was written in my handwriting. Usually I made some attempt to obscure my scrawl and make it more chaotic, harder to read, but I’d gotten…distracted. It was a common theme with me, I’d noticed. Always distracted, always thinking about life like it was dipped in rosewater and colored pink. 

The tinny bell dismissing us to lunch rang throughout the classroom. The teacher clapped her hands together, thanking God that it was lunch because she was hungrier than “heck.” As if we’d never heard a swear before.

I stuffed my notebook into my backpack, slinging it over my shoulder as I watched Keira. She tossed her head back and gave one of her friends a glowing smile. The ticking of the clock even seemed slower, the world stopping to wait as she gathered her things. She tucked her sketchbook into her book bag and crossed it over her body, its canvas body slapping against her ink-stained jeans. 

At lunch, Tyler was easy to find. He sat perched on top of the lunch table as one of the cafeteria monitors snapped at him to get down. One of his friends clapped his leg good-naturedly as he slipped down from his perch. I caught his eye and jerked my head at the water fountain.

I went myself to get a drink, leaving the folded-up piece of looseleaf on the back of it, safe from water splashes. After taking a quick drink, I walked away, my back turned as Tyler approached the fountain in my stead. Careful eyes might have caught him pocketing the note, but it went largely unnoticed. I kept my gaze on Keira, but she wasn’t even looking at Tyler. It’s like he wasn’t even on her radar. 

I sat down at the corner of my little lunch table. I sat with my “friends,” but we were all bookworms. We just pulled out our latest novels to read while we ate. Some did homework. No one spoke. It was a bookclub of sorts, and none of us minded the lack of conversation. 

I pulled my book from my bag as I settled into my seat, facing the rest of the student body so I could watch as it all went down. Tyler twiddled the note in his fingers, shaking it like it was burning. It was a sharp contrast to his confident stride as he walked right up to Keira and the rest of the art kids. 

He handed her the note, his hand not even trembling, that irritating crooked smile on his face. Carefully, Keira took it from him. She pinched it between her paint-stained fingers as she unfolded it, brows furrowed.

I didn’t want to stay attached. It wasn’t very business-like; I was supposed to watch the girls, write the poetry, and clean my hands of it. And sometimes I did, even if I looked at the girl a little bit later. But I had already been looking at Keira, and the poem just gave me a chance to really say what I’d been dying to. Tyler hadn’t even read it—he’d just taken it with the confidence that I’d written something good. That feeling glowed in my chest.

Something wasn’t right, though. Usually, the girls would say something like, “Did you write this?” It looked like Keira was following the script—but Tyler wasn’t. Because he pointed at me. 

I slammed my book shut in front of me. I hadn’t even been reading it, but it didn’t matter now. Nothing mattered now.

Stuffing it into my bag, I rose quickly from my table and ducked out into the hallway. I hadn’t heard any laughter, but it would only be a matter of time. 

It was always just a matter of time.

I should have known better than to trust Tyler. The school’s so-called pretty boy, Mr. Popular, Mr. Perfect. Boys like him weren’t nice to girls like me; they were cruel. Every single movie I’d ever seen had told me that. Tyler lived up to expectations. Expectations I should have had.

I pressed my back against the cinderblock wall, the painted white bricks only sort of rough through the fabric of my hoodie. Slowly, dramatically, I sank down until I was crouched in a little ball. Burning tears stung my eyes. No matter how quickly I wiped them away, more came.

The cafeteria door swung open. A flash of sound rose through the open door and cut off just as quickly. I didn’t look to see who it was. Hopefully they’d just go to the bathroom and not say anything.

“Hey.”

I froze. 

It was Keira’s voice. 

Crap. Crap. Crap. I wiped my eyes one final time, catching my nose on the sleeve of my sweatshirt as I turned to look up at her. The fluorescent was hidden behind her head, casting her unruly mane of hair in a halo of light. The note was held loosely between trembling fingers.

She squatted down, then thought better of her position and twisted until her back was pressed up against the wall, too. “You wrote this?”

It was the same old script I’d heard a hundred times. I sniffled, opening my mouth a bit to reply, but the words turned to dust on my tongue. I nodded instead.

“It’s, uh…it’s really good. Like, scary good.” Her words were tinted with a smile, and I blinked through the tears until I could see that she held no malice in her gaze. Just awe, and kindness. “I wish I could make something like this.”

I laughed. It was short, like a bark, and echoed down the cavernous school hallway. “What are you talking about? Did you even read the poem? Your art is insane! It’s the best I’ve ever seen. I mean it.” It was more words than I usually said to anyone. And they were quick, like a river, and just as energetic. Maybe not as smooth.

Keira grinned at me and set the note on the ground between us. “And you meant it all?”

I nodded again. I couldn’t have another river pouring out of my mouth. That was possibly even more embarrassing than being caught crying on the hallway floor.

There wasn’t even time to blink. Keira’s mouth pressed against mine. For the brief moment we touch, my lips burned. She’d caught them on fire—poured gasoline on me, lit a match, and I was ablaze.

I was alive.

It was over as quick as it had come, as though she was afraid someone would see. Shouldn’t I have been afraid, too? That’s why I’d come out here, after all. To hide from people who would hiss the words at me: Lesbian. Homo. Dyke.

But Keira didn’t say any of that stuff. She didn’t swear, or hiss, or spit. She’d kissed me. “You meant it all,” she repeated.

“I already said yes,” I replied.

There was a pause. It lingered on her lips. I thought lips were supposed to be ripe and red from kissing, but her’s weren’t. I guess a kiss has to last for more than a second to make them all pink and stuff. But I couldn’t stop looking at them. 

“…Even the part about asking me out? You meant that?”

My gaze drifted from her lips up to her eyes, and it was clear that she was serious. I pinched the bottom of my hoodie. “I-I mean, I was asking for Tyler, but—”

“Tyler doesn’t want to ask me out, though,” she said. “Tyler wanted you to ask me out.”

“I—he did?”

Keira nodded. Her arm fell as she let her fingers drift across the folded up note, ripped poorly but penned in my hand. And I’m glad I hadn’t changed my handwriting. I’m glad it wasn’t perfect, but that it was mine. 

“So what do you say?” Keira asked. “Will you go out with me?”

I could even answer. I just dipped my head in towards hers, quicker than anything, striking like an asp with my lips. This press lasted longer than the first, and my hand drifted up to brush one of her curls away like I’d seen in movies. I ended up losing my balance a bit and falling into her. 

The kiss broke, and we both descended into laughter. It was bright, brighter than the school bells. 

🍒 cherries: -help calm nervous system -cancer preventing compounds -reduces inflammation -reduces risk for gout -supports healthy sleep -arthritis pain relief -reduces belly fat -reduces muscle pain -lowers risk of stroke

🍑 peaches: -helps maintain healthy skin & vision -helps maintain healthy bones & teeth -anti aging properties -improves digestion -calcium -potassium -packed with vital nutrients -good source of fiber

🍉 watermelon: -cardiovascular health -maintains bones -significant source of vitamins -combats free radicals -reduces body fat -anti inflammitory -diuretic & kidney support -alkaline forming -improves sight

🍓 strawberries: -potentially fight against cancer -anti aging properties -prevent heart disease, reduces risk of stroke -helps relieve constipation -can help with allergies & asthma -anti depression properties -reduces blood pressure -regulates blood sugar -folic acid

🍍 pineapple: -helps fight arthritis -immune system support -bone health -vision health -can reduce risk of macular degeneration (eye disease) -anti inflammitory -aids in digestion -packed with vital nutrients

🍃 kiwi: -increases bone mass -more vitamin c than an orange -packed with vital nutrients -aids in digestion -helps manage blood pressure -protects DNA from damage -supports weight loss -detox -prevents heart disease -protects against macular degeneration

🍇 grapes: -relax blood vessels -prevents/slows many types of cancer -maintains heart health -packed with nutrients -aids in digestion -weight loss -can prevent alzheimers -improves brain function -protects body from radiation

🍎 apples: -build immune system -fiber -reduces risk of cancer -prevents heart disease -healthy teeth -prevent alzheimers -prevents larkinsons -decreases risk of diabetes -reduces cholesterol -prevents gallstones -reduces risk of hypertension

🍊 oranges: -help maintain skin & vision -excellent source of vitamin B & C -fiber -prevents stroke -lowers blood pressure

🍌 banana: -potassium -energy booster -aids in digestion -fiber -weight loss -lowers blood pressure -prevents asthma -fights cancer -treats diarrhea -preserving memory

🌳 blueberries: -protect heart -lowers cholesterol -packed with antioxidants -reduce DNA damage -maintains healthy cholesterol -lower blood pressure -improve brain function & memory

🍃 mango: -protects against several forms of cancer -lowers cholesterol -clears skin -improves eye health -alkalizes entire body -promotes healthy sex -improves digestion -helps fight heat stroke

🍋 lemon: -contain high amounts of potassium -lowers risk of stroke -fights cancer -maintains healthy complexion -prevents asthma -increases iron absorption -boosts immune system

🍐 pear: -packed with nutrients -great source of fiber -treats diverticulosis (inflammation of the lining in large intestine) -weight loss -lowers blood pressure -lowers cholesterol -prevents diabetes -promotes digestion -detox

🍅 tomato: -prevents cancer -manages blood pressure -protects heart -maintains healthy complexion -reduces depression -improves vision -improves digestive system

🍃 grapefruit: -weight loss -prevents stroke -maintains blood pressure & heart health -prevents cancer -promotes digestion -hydration -maintaining healthy skin -prevents asthma

for all the aces/ace spectrum folks who are in their 20s and -have never been in a relationship or even on a date -haven’t had their first kiss ..and.. -get scoffed at because of that -are told that they’ll “change their minds” when they meet “the right person” -secretly worry that those people (parents, strangers, friends, etc) are right -secretly worry that they’re not really ace -have watched all their friends from high school be in happy relationships -have gone to friends’ weddings and are not sure how to feel about that -don’t mind the idea of a relationship but worry that they won’t find someone who respects that they are ace/ace spectrum

Ace Audiobooks

Sometimes ebooks and paperbacks just don’t cut it, during those times you might want an audiobook and I got you covered! 

Not Your Villain

Heart of Iron

Sandry’s Book

First Test

Before the Devil Breaks You

Dreamland Burning

Let’s Talk About Love

Every Heart Is a Doorway

Radio Silence

Carrie Pilby

Afterworlds

Days of Blood and Starlight

Guardian of the Dead

Perfect Rhythm

The Best of All Possible Worlds

A Date with an Angel

Dreams of Shreds and Tatters 

The Lightning-Struck Heart

Santa Olivia

Dust

How to Be a Normal Person

Poison Kiss

Part & Parcel

the witch doesn’t burn in this one

the princess saves herself in this one