Friday, June 26, 2015

#LoveWins

 As many of you may know, today, Friday, June 26, 2015 the United States Supreme Court ruled 5 to 4 that ALL fifty states require same-sex couples to be wed. I attempt to avoid being political, other than my support of marriage equality and the LGBT community, because this isn't a political blog or a personal blog, it's a Sims 3 legacy blog. 
I live in one of the thirteen states that had yet to legalize same-sex marriage, it frustrated me so much, listening to everyone who opposes it, and I just wanted to say that I, Jill, and this legacy, The Janes Legacy, supports marriage equality and the Supreme Court's decision. Finally, finally a historic decision that's been needed for an insanely long time has been made and five Supreme Court Justices were on the right side of history.


I'm fairly certain that June is a lovely time of the year for a wedding, a wedding between two people of the same-sex who love and care for each other.
In case you doubt it, Hazel and Rosie prove that it is, indeed.


xx,
Jill

Wednesday, June 24, 2015

BoB Anderson Two: News

   "I brought something special for tonight." 
   "Really?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. It had been nine days since the truth or dare game and she hadn't visited my desk or lab space since, tonight was different, apparently. 
   "I'll show you." We entered the professor's office, as I glanced around, looking for something special.
   "Here." She handed me an envelope, that I immediately ripped open. Skimming the official looking paper.
   "I... I'm the next lab assistant?"
   "Yes!" She squealed, hugging me. "This is great, isn't it?"
   "It is... I cannot believe, I know you said, but I thought that I'd upset you."
   "Why? I've been avoiding you cause I wasn't suppose to tell you until the paperwork was written and printed, so if that was it, don't fret."
   "The kiss."
   "That? Pfth. I've have like seven other lab mates kiss me, I don't care, apparently you guys haven't got the I'm awkward and may seem to be flirting but am actually just being nice memo."
   "Wait you-"
   "I never kissed them again. I never wanted to." She shrugged. "It's not a big deal... Wanna play tic tac toe?"
   "Sure." I replied, still hung up on the seven other lab mates were in my place thing.
   "Okay... Wanna make it more fun?"
   "Yes." I nodded, wondering how we could.
   "After each game, the loser has to remove a piece of clothing. We stop when someone's naked. You game?"
   "I might-" She was a beautiful woman who I might get to see without clothes, I was a horny twenty year old, of course I was game. "Yes."
   "Great." She took a piece of paper, drawing the board, I put an X, she put an O, and we went back and fourth, until I was declared the loser. "Lose the shirt, blondie."
   "How enticing." I rolled my eyes, slipping off my t-shirt. We played once more, she lost and took off her jacket, then she lost again, slipping off her dress. I had to stop for a few seconds, staring at her lacy panties and bra. She rolled her eyes, clearly unabashed.
   "We're playing more. If I'm going to freeze my butt off while the AC is on full blast, you're going to, too." She drew another board, a few seconds later, I was in my boxers. "This might be our last game."
   "It might be." I agreed, sitting in an office chair, knowing that if I lost strip tic tac toe, I'd never live it down, as long as I worked with her. I drew the board this time, letting her go first. She placed an X, then I placed an O, then she put an X in another corner. I blocked her three in a row with an O, as she pouted, drawing an X in the opposite corner. "Did you mean to do that?" I asked, staring in disbelief at the paper. If I drew an O, I'd win, leaving her to reveal more flesh.
   "I-I. Dammit! Guess you can remove my bra." I stared at her, as she stood, her hands on her hips, waiting for me. "Are you going to or are you going to force me?" She didn't wait for an answer, she slowly moved her hands to her back, as the flimsy fabric was thrown to the side, revealing her bare chest. 
  "You're..."
  "Practically flat, I know."
  "I was going to say topless."
  "Perceptive." She giggled, stepping closer, as I felt the twisting feeling, longing, hoping that nothing embarrassing would happen, that it wouldn't show. "I'm bored with tic tac toe…" She murmured, stepping a bit closer, as I began blushing. I could smell her lotion, lavender, practically feel the warmth of her skin on me, she was centimeters away. "Say the word, I won't." She moved herself onto my lap, her legs hanging over the chair arms, her chest pressed against mine as she began kissing me. 
   "Yes..."
   "I wasn't just being nice and I wanted to kiss you again." With that, no other words were uttered, as she kissed me, arching her back away so I could lower my tongue to her chest, as she groaned in pleasure, her hands cascading down my back, pulling at the elastic of my boxers. 

Wednesday, June 17, 2015

Bit of Boring: Hayleigh

This BoB covers Steven and Chase Janes' quest to find their birth mother Calina Rice, they're the children of Parker Janes, the generation four heir. I'd suggest skimming this chapter and perhaps generation four.

   "Dude, the layover's killing me. Three hours? What the hell are we supposed to do for three hours?"
   "I dunno. Buy over priced coffee?" I shrugged, as Chase flipped through Instagram profiles that belonged to women named Calina, our mother's name. "Isn't it creepy, looking for her online?"
   "A bit..." He sighed, turning off his phone. "How else do we find her? We know nothing about her, she could have changed her last name, gotten married, hell dyed her hair, actually be dead..."
   "Why are you so goddam pessimistic?" I bitterly asked. We'd been so optimistic when we flew to Atlanta, a Calina Rice who was in her late thirties was preforming at a night club named Glitz Gallant, however when we arrived there it turned out that the half Cambodian half French Canadian woman's name was Carolina, not Calina, the online advertisement had been mistyped. After that, we had very few leads, so we decided to fly to Chicago, than head overseas to Paris, Rome, Venice, and Berlin. We'd been stuck in Chicago longer than expected, curtsey of the bitter summer storms.
   "Sorry Steven, but we have no leads and we're running low on funds, I'm just being realistic. It isn't like dad's gonna fund our search, especially because he thinks we should be content with Holly." Holly Janes, formerly Holly Parlin, had been our mother figure for the majority of our childhood and the mother of our three half brothers, Hunter, Trevor, and Blake. "I mean, this is great, but what happens if we cannot find her? What is she doesn't want to be found? Or she had other kids or something? She left us for a reason and it pisses me off to say this, but maybe we should respect that."
   "You weren't saying that when we were trying to convince dad to let us go!" I exclaimed, bolting up from the terminal's uncomfortable black faux leather seats.
   "I'm tired, I'm hungry, that brings out the worst in anyone... Just, look, I'm gonna attempt to nap."
   "I'm gonna go get food." I grabbed my backpack and walked away, aggravated. Chase was all for finding our mother, until it got complicated, than he was content with resigning himself to the fact that it was unrealistic. A small part of me knew that in a world of billions of people, even with social media and the internet and everything, we may not find her, however I wasn't going to admit that, I had to stay hopeful.
   I stood in line for the coffee shop, as a fluorescent light beat down on me. The barista looked tired, overworked, as I ordered a small latte. There was only one other person, besides the barista, in the shop, which was odd for O'Hare; it was supposed to be busy, I'd thought, even though I was here at one am, waiting for my redeye flight.
   I grabbed my coffee, glancing to see that it was for a Stephen, not Steven, a small detail that wasn't worth bitching about like a pretentious person who thought they were superior.
   The other person here, a raven haired woman whose arms were crossed on the table, her head on them, like she was playing an elementary school game of heads up seven up. She was whimpering, an odd noise for a sleeping person.
   "Are you okay?" I asked, not expecting an answer.
   "Whaaa?" She looked up, her face red, tears streaking her pasty complexion. "Who the hell are you?"
   "Um, Steven Janes." I replied, shuffling awkwardly. "You're crying."
   "Way to go, captain obvious." She rolled her eyes, picking at a scone that sat on a brown paper napkin in front of her. "Sorry. I'm upset."
   "I can tell." I glanced at the clock on the wall, I had at least two and a half hours before I needed to return to my spot with my brother.
   "You can sit." She gestured to the seat across from her. "Isn't like I have anyone else to save the seat for."
   "Okay..." I paused, hesitantly, pulling out the chair. I placed my latte on the metal table, as she glanced at it.
   "Stephen, you said?"
   "It's actually Steven with a V, not a P-H."
   "Okay, Steven with a V, not a P-H, I'm Hayleigh, with a H-A-Y-L-E-I-G-H."
   "Nice to meet you." I stuck out my hand, as she glanced at it, wiping her eyes.
   "How gentlemanly." She shook my hand, firmly, before nibbling part of her scone.
   "What's up?"
   "I swear to God, if you expect me to say the sky or roof or anything, I'll assault you."
   "No- I, Jesus, anger issues much?"
   "Sorry, I'm-"
   "Upset. Yeah, we established that."
   "My boyfriend was supposed to fly here to see me graduate high school yesterday."
   "I was supposed to fly to Paris."
   "He didn't come. He's in college in Oregon and apparently has met some tramp who is a senior and likes sophomores who are majoring in English Lit. Apparently she buys him beer and is better than a high school senior."
   "My flights delayed... I think you win the pity contest."
   "If I knew it was a contest I would have told you that we'd been dating since I was a freshman and I was gonna be valedictorian, only he's the principal's cousin's paperboy and he got him to revoke the award at the last minute."
   "That sucks." I replied, attempting to empathize with the attractive girl who had just had a mental break down in an airport coffee shop in Chicago. "So why are you here?"
   "I was gonna fly back to Oregon with him today. He called me the night before my graduation and told me that we were done, so I couldn't get a refund or anything on the ticket."
   "So you're going to Oregon?"
   "I don't know. My flight leaves in an hour."
   "I hear Oregon's nice."
   "You've been?"
   "No. Haven't had a need to."
   "Huh. Want to?"
   "What?"
   "I have two tickets. We could B.S. it, pretend you're Sir Goddamn Jack-"
   "Do you know how airport security works?"
   "You do?"
   "Yeah."
   "You're what, eighteen? This is like your first flight?"
   "Uh huh, and? Also it'll be my third?"
   "Third? Gosh golly darn jeepers, you're ready to pilot a plane!"
   "I could be. You don't know me."
   "Are you?"
   "No."
   "So I was right." She smiled slightly, a smile that contrasted with her red eyes, the tears that were still lingering on her cheeks.
   "You want me to fly to Oregon with you?"
   "No. We could trade. You're going to Paris, so I figured you're going with someone, city of love and all that B.S."
   "I'm going with my brother."
   "What, are you from the south?" She giggled slightly, than paused. "If you are from the south, I didn't mean to insinuate that they;re okay with inscest."
   "I'm not." I sipped my latte, burning my tongue slightly, as she stood up, carrying the crumbly remains of a British pastery and a biodegradable napkin.
   "I should be going." She threw away her trash, turning to face me. "You're cute."
   "You're direct."
   "And cute?" She smiled, innocently, fishing for a compliment.
   "I guess." I agreed, as she, someone I didn't know how to describe, sauntered away in dirty sneakers, jean cutoffs, and a physcodelic, tie dyed Nirvana muscle croptop.
   The barista pointed a finger at me, as I glanced around.
   "What?"
   "Purse. She left her purse."
   "Oh..." I glanced underneath the table to see a leath bag studded with gold spikes. I picked it up, giving it to them.
   "Dude, I don't wanna deal with it... Try lost and found or chase after her, it's been like ten seconds since she left."
   "Oh. Yeah. Yeah it has." I turned to look at the exit, only to see that she was gone.
   Great, I was a black teenager with a white lady's bag in a highly trafficed airport. This wasn't going to look bad at all.

Tuesday, June 2, 2015

Bob: Tiffani and Her Diary

This chapter is told from the perspective of a teenage Tiffani, Alyce Janes', the generation one founder, daughter. It's the fourth "sequel" to this chapter and the third "sequel" to this BoB and the second "sequel" to this BoB and the first "sequel" to this BoB.

Fifteen: June July 8th

   I forgot that it was July and it's been June July for a week now! We only have about another month, give or take a few weeks, before school is back in session. Can you believe it?! I'll be a high schooler...
   Do you think high school is like the movies? I know one aspect isn't, the boys. Yeah, B-O-Y-S. They're all hot and stuff in movies, but IRL? Ew! No, I mean people, c'mon. They're at the height of their immaturity and puberty and, ugh... I'm getting flashbacks from the sex talk conversation the "talk" I had with mom. 
   I'm not sure what I'll do with the rest of summer... Write, obvs.
   Text Cassie, who's fam is going  on a vacatrip vacation this week so no seeing her, which SUCKS, because we're BFFs. (BFFs or BFF's? Is there an apostrophe??)
   I know I was gonna daily write, but my life is a bit dull, so I don think I could do that. 
   Diary, do you think my life's dull?
   You're a book diary journal paper, so you obviously don't know, but STILL
    I'm hungry, I think I'll go get some popcorn and watch YouTube videos... Do you know YouTubers write books?! Yeah, and they make $$$ (money!!). 
   I don't like video editing, though so that career isn't for me. 
    Well, I'm gonna going to go leave you. 
      Farewell,
          Tiff

P.S I KNOW that this is suppose. To be a photo diary, but stupid (trying to be nicer...) iCloud is having issues and my printer isn't one with wifi/blue teeth Bluetooth so I'm having trouble with the photo aspect...

Monday, June 1, 2015

Bit of Boring: Tiffani's Third BoB Diary Entry

This chapter is told from the perspective of a teenage Tiffani, Alyce Janes', the generation one founder, daughter. It's the third "sequel" to this chapter and the second "sequel" to this BoB and the first sequel to this BoB.

Thirteen: July 4th

   Happy birthday, America! We turn, uh... Three hundred? Two hundred? I don't know, but I got to see FIREWORKS, so it doesn't matter. I like fireworks, even though Cassie says it's baby-ish to.
  Speaking of baby-ish, it just occured to me that mom might have a baby with Harry. He's older (not old, old... EW) and she isn't even forty yet! I don't know if I want another sibling... Hm... 
   No thank you to the baby.
   I like babies but I don't want to have another sibling, it's be thirteen (I forgot to count the time in the womb) fourteen years younger than me! I mean, when it reaches my age, I might have children, cause I think I want them,but I dunno, and that would be WEIRD. I don't want my sibling to be closer to my child's age than it is to me.
   Alsom how do you use than and then?
   Grammar confuses me, but I wanna be a writer author so I should learn better. Hopefully high school will help me, because I am taking English One, though they, they being teachers, write it English I. Hm... Greek Roman Numerals make it look fancier.
   I think my best subject is English, even though in middle school they call it language arts and I am not great at grammer. I will learn than I will be an amazing author.
   Mom says my optimism is inspiring, but I'm not a super optimistic person, I KNOW I'm gonna  going to be an author. Not just an author, but an illustrious one. No, an an illustrator an ILLUSTRIOUS one. The expanding my vocabulary thing is going magnifigent. 
   Back to babies, I think it'd be weird having another sibling.
     Hm... I think I'll convince Jamie to ask mom that.
         Not Wanting A Sibling,
                   Tiff

Fourteen: July 5th

   Jamie aked mom if she was pregnant at breakfast this morning. The conversation went a bit like this:

   Jamie: Are you pregnant?
   Harry: *Chokes slightly on orange juice* Alyce...
   Mom: No, no! Jamie *laughs* do you think I'm fat?
   Jamie: *Glares at me* Tiffani wanted to know, I thought it was a weird-
   Me: Intrusive works instead of weird.
   Jamie: *Rolls eyes* Intrusive question.
   Alex: We'd be told if she was.
   Mom: Exactly, why are you asking, darling?
   Me: *Blushes* Well, uh... I dunno. I think it'd be peculiar to have a sibling who is so much younger than me.
   Harry: Don't worry, your mom and I don't have any intentions of having a child together, I love you three like you guys were my own children.
   Me: *Relieved* Oh. Okay.

   And than mom came and talked to me after breakfast. She asked me if I was worried I was going to be replaced and I said no. And she hugged me and said we needed to talk about something and I thought it was going to be another thing about the marriage and how it didn't change anything and she wasn't replacing anyone and Harry loved us all and she knew that it might take us awhile to adjust to the changes, but it wasn't.
   It was weird odd. It went like this:

   Mom: Tiffani, I've been putting this off for awhile... You know what sex is right?
   Me: *Blushes* Yeah... I mean, I go to public school and I read books and watch TV... Why?
   Mom: Well, I haven't had this talk with you, but you're thirteen, so I figured I should do it now before it's too late.
   Me: *Accidentally says it out loud* Too late?
   Mom: When you've have sex, regretted it, have an STD, or are pregnant.

  
   And the rest is two too embarrassing to write. I'm blushing right now. Literally dying. The color of a ripe tomato, currently.
           The Embarressed,
                  Tiff

Bit of Boring: Another Tifaani Diary Entry

This chapter is told from the perspective of a teenage Tiffani, Alyce Janes', the generation one founder, daughter. It's the second "sequel" to this chapter and the first "sequel" to this BoB.


Eleven: June 30th
  
   I haven't written in ONE WHOLE WEEK. Ohmigawsh. SO much has happened! Guess what! Harry (still haven't decided on a name...) and mom wanted to celebrate his an d her their engagement, so we got to go to the beach in Florida. F-L-O-R-I-D-A. I've never been, but Cassie has and I wanted to go because she has it sounded fun. I met nice people on the beach.
   Ya know how I said cheerleaders were airheads? I was being a bit of a biit- B. Mom says saying the B word isn't good, so I won't, but... Ohmigawsh, I might. Seriously. Do you think it is okay, diary? I'm gonna write it.
   Bitch.
   I wrote a bad word! A BAD word has been written my me! (Did you know the first sentence is in active voice and the second is in passive?)
   Yes, I called myself that. I think that makes it better and less bad because I met a cheerleader at the beach and she was nice and smart. She's read stuff by the Bronte sister peoples. I don't like Bronte peoples writing, it's weirdly written. It uses phrases I could use in Rosemarie and Yesterday, though. Hm... I'm gonna go ask mom to take me to the library so I can check out some Bronte.
         The On the Quest For Bronte,
                 Tiff

Twelve: July 2nd

   Emily. Anne. Charlotte. The Bronte sisters who wrote "classic" stuff. Also, I've been misspelling Bronte Brontë. There's a weird sideways colon above the e. What is that? 
   I do not recommend Wuthering Heights by Miss. Ms. Emily Bronteë. It is boring. And there's weird words in it.
   I'm gonna continue writing in normal, twenty-first century English.
   Also, I won't use selfie. Selfie is a new word... Is it a word? I do not know. Hm... Lemme Let me go ask my brothers.
   I'm back. Alex says yeah, because the English language evolves, though it isn't a proper term and Jamie said sure, whatever and I texted Cassie who hasn't replied.
   Cassie is so cool, though she hasn't read anything by Brontë, she has read lots of romance-y stuff. I'm not super into that type of things, which is funny because I'm writing it, but it's more fun to write than read.
   Speaking of Cassie, she told me someone called me a lesbian because I haven't dated a guy really. I'm not mad, but I'm sad that loving someone who is female when you're female is an insult. We shouldn't love people because of their body parts, but because of their mind, their personality, their soul.
   I'm happy Ireland's made LGBT (same sex?) marriage legal, I don't know why America hasn't. I guess because we still think that lesbian is an insult.
   I'm going to write a story after I finish Rosemarie and Yesterday about what it would be like in America if herrrosexual, straight, liking the opposite sex was an insult instead of liking the same being an insult (though it SHOULD. NOT. BE. ONE.).
   Maybe Rosemarie will be a lesbian...
   Nah, I don't think so because she's pregnant and she loves the gardener the werewolf pack murdered. Plus, stories shouldn't center around being a lesbian, there's another plots and "oh yeah I like girls". I don't want to offend anyone.
   If someone opened this and saw "oh yeah I like girls", they might be confused. Hm... I think you should never read one part of something, it could be taken out of context. Speaking of context, Cassie wants to FaceTime, so I'm gonna stop writing.
                  The Pro-Equality,
                         Tiff

Bit of Boring: Tiffani's Diary Entry

This chapter is told from the perspective of a teenage Tiffani, Alyce Janes', the generation one founder, daughter. It's the "sequel" to this chapter.

Entry Nine: June 18th

   Oh my goodness gosh gods! Is it baby-ish for a thirteen year old to say oh my goodness? I don't know. Cassie says "oh my gods" and she says it's because she read this book trilogy about this girl who fell in love with a gGreek god. I can't imagine loving a Greek god. (GOD. Like, all powerful and stuff).
   Anyways, we went to the butterfly garden with mom and Harry and Jamie and Alex and it was fun and I didn't say lots about it yesterday. We saw all these an innumerable amount of gorgeous butterflies and I ate a peanut butter sandwich at the picnic. Peanut butter is sticky, brown, brown like caramel, melted caramel, oozing.
   Also, I'm going to start expanding my vovocabulary because my mom said that might help with my writing some. Innumerable is a big word, I believe. I misspelled it the first time. Jamie thought it meant counting something, but I told him it didn't.
   My writing's going good well. (I always forget whether to use good or well...) My story, you know, the one called Joy and Yesterday? It's set in Victorian England, about a peasant girl named Joy who's seventeen. Her mother died during childbirth, so she's raised by her cruel father who's forty-nine and married a twenty year old girl. Her father tries to marry her off to Edward Peters, a man twice her age. She's visiting the nobles house when she meets the gardener, who she falls madly in love with. Edward sees the gardener and tries to stab him. The gardener and Edward fight, and when the gardener deficits the knife, Edward is accidentally stabbed. She runs away to rural France with the gardener. Edwards family were werewolves, though and they begin hunting the lovers. The gardener dies later, brutally murdered by the werewolf pack, after Joy finds out that she's pregnant. Joy ends up bouncing around France trying to avoid the pack. I have yet to write the ending, though I was thinking of changing Joy's name to something more victoria Victorian.
   Google says Victoria, Mary, Elizabeth and Annabelle, Prudence, Rosemarie, Meredith were popular in the 1890s. I like Rosemarie. Rosemarie and Yesterday. It has a nice ring to it.
   Also, I got an iPhone! An IPHONE (or is it IpHONE? iPHONE? what's capitalized?) after the picnic. Harry bought it for us, he also told us that we don't have to call him dad if we don't want to. I may want to. Hm...
   I think I have to go, I hear mom saying something about going to Harry's house. I'm going to stop writing now.
                Sincerly Sincerely,
                                 Tiff

Ten: June 21st

   Do you know that Harry has a big house? Harry has a big house. I also haven't decided whether to call him dad or Harry yet. He's technically my step-dad, but my real dad's mean and I don't get to see him, so Harry's more my dad than dad is.
   We went to Harry's house because he brought Jamie there after soccer practice a scrimmage, he is the coach after all and he teacher pre-calc which is super smart people math. I don't like math as much as I like English, because there's lots of writing in English. 
   My story is okay. I don't know how to end it. Maybe Rosemarie (aka formally Joy) will turn into a werewolf? I don't know.
   Also, I want to go to France because I've been researching it and it seems amazing. Yeah, when I'm an adult, I'm go to France, though I won't meet any werewolves, because they aren't real.
   Would real werewolves be a good or bad thing? Hm... I don't know. They seem dangerous, but people like reading about them. Cassie likes reading about them.
   Cassie also doesn't like that guy anymore, he's sooooooooooooooooooo last week. (My hand got tired writing all those O's.) 
   I read my old diary entry where I talked about Cassie and who she likes and I sounded mean when I said she talked to an idiotic guy.
   I'm sorry idiotic guy. MOm says we should be nice to most people. MOST people. Like if someone if abusing you, than you don't be nice to them, you get away from them. 
   I think my dad abused Mom. I don't know for sure, though he hit her. I want to call Harry dad, but that means he'd be the same as my real dad who I don't like. (That isn't mean, BTW.) I have to go think about what to call Harry now.
         The Deeply in Though,
                Tiff