Winter 2011 (Dec-Feb) /
Spring 2012 (Mar-May) /
''Long-Vacation'' 2012* (Jun-Jul) /
''Lost-Summer'' 2012* (Jul-Aug) /
''Lost-Autumn'' 2012* (Sep-Nov) /
''Lost-Winter'' 2012* (Dec-Feb) /
''Lost-Spring'' 2013* (Mar-May) /
''Lost-Summer'' 2013* (Jun-Aug) /
''Lost-Autumn'' 2013* (Sep-Nov) /
''Lost-Winter'' 2013* (Dec-Feb) /
Spring 2014 (Mar-May) /
Summer 2014 (Jun-Aug) /
Autumn 2014 (Sep-Nov) /
Winter 2014 (Dec-Feb) /
Spring 2015 (Mar-May) /
Summer 2015 (Jun-Aug) /
Autumn 2015 (Sep-Nov) /
Winter 2015 (Dec-Feb) /
Spring 2016 (Mar-May) /
Summer 2016 (Jun-Aug) /
Autumn 2016 (Sep-Nov) /
Winter 2016 (Dec-Feb)
Nothing much of anything that really comes to mind.
December 8 - 11, 2014 (Monday-Thursday)
Not having felt well for much of the weekend, I'd actually found myself knowledgingly (yes, new word invention) sleeping through my alarm on Monday (Dec. 8), but having lost knowledge of the fact that it was still one of my regular workdays, and had it not been for my mother alerting me practically at the last minute (and offering me a ride to work out of concern for the potential of freezing rain) there's no telling how long I would've remained in bed and in the house. As a result of that narrow miss, I resorted to repeating the newly established method I'd implemented over the weekend to help me avert a similar problem on those days, namely, programming my cellphone as ''reliable back-up'' when/if the in-house alarms (for whatever reason) prove insufficient. Ironically, it was right after that same workshift that I had to make a return trip to the worksite in order to reclaim my cellphone which I'd accidentally left sitting on one of the washroom sinks.
After work on Tuesday (Dec. 9), I borrowed my mother's phone to contact those involved with these medical billing complications (which I'd kept putting off all during the previous week), retelling my story about how I felt I was subjected to a sort of ''bait-&-switch'' with regard to being charged full out-of-pocket expense for an anesthesia procedure which I'd even brought up in discussion as to its questionable ''necessity.'' Of course, I got hit with the expected ''Your insurance plan won't cover it'' routine and given a supposed explanation why-- but later was informed by the representative on the other end of the line that if I were to pay out-of-pocket and submit the receipts to the claims office that I would be reimbursed for the expense (yes, sounds too damned good to be true) --and was told, after another long drag-out, by the billing company (for whom the network of anesthesiologists actually work as employees), that they could send me some paperwork in the form of some sort of ''hardship application'' in order to negotiate some sort of ''reduced rate,'' which I'm still not getting too enthusiastic about.
Earlier the same morning was when I'd brought up the idea of perhaps doing a ''trade'' for one month's worth of the utility bills, offering Gracie's old laptop in exchange, since my mother had mentioned that she would take it off of Gracie's hands if she was going to insist on not trying to get the thing repaired: I thought it might be a good alternative to the one set-up in the hallway, since she's always complaining about how cold it stays in that area, but she declined the offer, leaving me with five (5) of these monsters and having no idea how I'm going to get rid of at least two of them (...or ''six/three'' if taking into account the original motherboard that had been stripped out of my tower by those jerks on Melrose Ave.).
Wednesday evening (Dec. 10) had me avoiding Gracie again, as I'd initially refused to acknowledge her presence when she came to the door, having been the only person inside the house at the time. When my mother returned, she'd handed me some costly little pastry Gracie had gotten at ''Towers Shopping Center'' that she'd given my mother $5 to claim from her so that it could be delivered to me: I'd ended up giving the thing to my mother instead, who remarked that even for her it was hyper-sweet. But feeling as I was, both physically and emotionally, as well as still trying to synchronize these computers as best as possible, plus still having to sort through & organize a mountain of documents and other loose items which I'd been sidestepping for far too long whereby by apathy was only broken as a result of having to deal with these insurance issues, I simply was in no mood whatsoever to deal with her presence and demands for attention.
On Thursday (Dec. 11), I finally managed to access the ''BIOS'' of my PC tower, still having no real clue as to which specific combination of buttons was required to unlock it, having after a multitude of more ''rational'' attempts merely resorted to simultaneously depressing a large group of special function keys out of desperation and frustration, finally making it possible for me to natively boot into nbsp;''Windows 7,'' now that ''XP'' is serving little to no true purpose.
Unmentioned Highlights from Previous Quarter...
''Week in Review''
December 15, 2014 (Monday)
Borrowed my mother's cell phone this morning so I could call this ''ObamaCare'' health insurance marketplace, after multiple attempts to access their website these past couple of days and repeatedly being told that I'd forgotten all of my passwords, recovery answers, etc., then being locked out of the account altogether: the representative who finally answered my call-- after waiting on hold for over an hour --confirmed that it was a ubiquitous problem & complaint.
After resubmitting my information, I was told (very contrary to the health care marketplace's ''hurry-up & beat the deadline'' hype which attempted to convince us that if we updated our policies online that we could be able to take advantage of ''changes'' made to the health care provider policy which could result in lower premiums) that for the same policy, with the application of the ''tax credit,'' my monthly premium would be increasing from its current $40/month to nearly $60! After crying ''foul'' and ''bullshit'' to that, I was ''downgraded'' to some bullshit full-rate ''out-of-pocket'' ''bronze'' plan, but which through the marketplace with the application of the ''tax credit'' would result in no monthly premiums... all I'd have to do for the entirety of the next year however is to either avoid ever having to got to get medical treatment for anything or get with an employer who offers a health care plan of their own.
22:45, Eastern Standard / Daylight Time
December 17, 2014 (Wednesday)
After having done further research on the subject-- especially after I began expressing concerns & doubts about how my switching of health plans might effect the situation --and coming across information that the process was more involved than what had first been described, I called my health insurance provider again this to get more details about the supposed ''reimbursement'' process if I paid the anesthesia bill out-of-pocket, and the clearer explanation confirmed my suspicions that the previous representative had misinformed me and oversimplified the matter. As the call was wrapping up, this latest representative suggested that, based on the fact that I'd had at least four opportunities to be informed by someone prior to the colonoscopy procedure that anesthesia would/might not be covered under my insurance plan, I should submit an appeal letter as an additional step in the process of trying to effect a reduction in what is termed an ''invisible provider'' charge... or what I call a ''bait-&-switch'' charge. I also called the optometrist's office to reschedule my appointment, explaining the financial shock reasoning behind it which had prevented me from even obtaining my eyeglasses prescription, only to learn that I'd in actuality overshot my actual appointment by a day.
During these calls and further attempts to regain access to ''healthcare.gov's'' website, and still failing to connect, ''Gracie'' had decided to drop by, as I knew she would, and hang about. My mother had later commented to me about the girl's hair, but I'd honestly never looked at her, barely making even occasional passing glimpses in her direction, so I had no basis for commentary, but I stated that I'd made certain indications to Gracie that would lead to her recognizing that she was imposing on me because of the awful smell she was emitting, which was predominantly coming from her feet, but which may have effected her in other areas as well, which I did not care to find out -- so it again raised the question with me about her laundry washing habits.
22:35, Eastern Standard Time
December 22 - 25, 2014 (Monday-Thursday)
Out of concern for the reports of the possibility of freezing rain, I'd asked my mother on Tuesday (Dec. 23) if she'd take me out to ''Valley View Mall'' so I could inquire of ''Pearle Vision Center'' details regarding their supposed ''Buy One, Get One Free'' frames & lenses offer, which we did after I'd finally gotten off of her cell phone with a representative of the ''Healthcare Marketplace'' (healthcare.gov) from a call which was miraculously answered immediately but went on to last nearly two and a half hours as we attempted to determine and correct why I was still being locked out from being allowed to access my online account, then when that aspect of it was finally resolved, trying to work around the issues which were preventing me from selecting and registering a health plan (... a plan which involved my having to ''downgrade'' to one of their bogus ''bronze'' plans which while costing me $0 in monthly premiums [by using the ''tax credit''] equally offered me nothing, because I'd refused to pony-up the additional $18 per month to remain with the same plan I'd started out with).
Of course, as it turned out, and as I'd already suspected, Pearle's ''BOGO'' hook was in no way any sort of a bargain, ultimately resulting in two sets of eyeglasses which when broken down on a ''price per single unit'' basis amounted to the most expensive option in every scenario! From that point, I would have likely gone to the optical center inside ''Wal-Mart,''.where the price quoted to me was based on using my own set of frames, except that prior to leaving the house I'd grabbed the wrong frame I'd planned on using.
From there, I proceeded to rummage through my next stop on the itinerary (''Macy's'') with the intent of purchasing a new pair of shoes (mainly for work), but the pair I was interested in did not have the smaller sizes I'd wanted to purchase, having only the 1/2-size too large ''display'' set, which the manager would not sell to me, with or without an additional ''display model'' discount. Before leaving, I'd stepped into the ''mall'' portion briefly and noticed a shop catering exclusively to footware. but where I could still find nothing (combination ''style''-wise and ''price''-wise) to my satisfaction.
The next morning (Wed., Dec. 24), around 09:30, I'd requested of my mother that she call ''Gracie'' to let her know I was on my way over to her apartment, which was part of a week-long plan to get into her apartment and view the current condition of her living surroundings: ''Gracie'' had been making it known since the previous week that she'd had every intention of coming over here to the house to spend her day and possibly [over]night, but I wasn't up for that, telling her to Sunday (Dec. 21) to not come over unannounced, but to instead await my call.
Now according to my mother, she'd returned Gracie's attempts to call her the previous night (Tue., Dec. 23) and had informed me that Gracie had told her that she'd intended to drop by anyway if she hadn't heard from me by Noon. This is significant, because no sooner did my mother inform the girl that I was on my way over to her place that Gracie suddenly put on her best ''sick'' act. When I'd arrived on scene, toting the ''HELL'' laptop she'd given me, intent on watching her selection from among the dozen or so movies I'd downloaded over the course of the past week for that very purpose, planning to ha'alele (Hawaiian: ''to leave'') no later than 16:00 in order to follow-up on my unachieved objectives from the previous day, she went into her ''I'm sick, I may have to go to the hospital'' routine, initially going from non-expressive to full-blown dramatic overkill with groaning, whining and grimacing in a matter of less than two minutes, claiming that she had vomiting and diarrhea issues and was considering calling an ambulance to take her to hospital if she couldn't get my mother to take her, all while blocking any view into her apartment with her body the entire time. She called out to me a few seconds later as I was leaving down the stairs and started begging for me to buy her a package of ''Depends'' adult diapers, now sporting a huge wet spot in front of the sweat pants she was wearing, whereupon I'd again suggested that she call my mother for assistance.
I swung back to the house for a brief before continuing on to take care of the errands I'd originally planned for later in the day to ask my mother if she'd heard back from Gracie, saying that she had and that the ''ambulance'' comment had been brought up with her also, whereby my mother tried to encourage her to see about getting checked out at an ''urgent care'' facility. But when I'd mentioned that I had a very strong suspicion that what Gracie was doing was putting on a very intense, elaborate and convincing act for me/us just to prevent me from entering into (and seeing the condition of) her apartment, and how I'd seriously and sincerely hoped that I was entirely wrong about what she claimed she was experiencing-- not because I'd wanted her to suffer, but so that I might be confronted with and checked on my immediately skeptical cynicism, insensitivity, and dismissiveness --my mother expressed the same thought, especially when factoring in that she had last spoken with Gracie the night before, and no mentions were made, nor any indications perceived, that Gracie was falling ill (their conversation had taken place somewhere around 21:00; Gracie had told me that her ailment had been affecting her since ''Midnight''). So given the timing of things as they'd fallen together, and factoring in her previously stated intent & determination to come to the house whether I'd called her or not, I cannot help but think that her entire presentation was in fact a coldly calculated and expertly crafted ruse.
Leaving the house again shortly thereafter, I went back out to ''Sears'' to place the order for my prescription eyeglasses, then found a pair of shoes there (still nothing as I'd have really wanted) for which I'd used one of the ''receipt coupon'' that were being spit out post-transaction; I then went to the area supermarket for more stuff I really didn't need but wanted to take advantage of the mailed coupons as well as a few soon-to-reach-deadline sale items, but of course with some additional ''impulse'' buys, including a ''pomelo,'' which I'm not entirely certain if I'd had once before when I'd lived in Hawaii.
Thursday morning (Dec. 25) I called our worksite to ask if Gracie had called in sick, and I was told that she hadn't done so. Not much time later my mother had told me that she had spoken with the girl the previous night and had been informed that she had indeed called an ambulance, saying she'd opted to be taken to ''Lewis-Gale'' hospital (rather than ''Roanoke Memorial'' or, as my mother had kept trying to insist, to an ''urgent care'' facility), saying that she had undergone IV rehydration and what-not, and declaring that though she was still sick & miserable she was insistent upon going to work anyway because the ''white folks'' whom this girl compels herself to listen to as the ultimate authority in just about everything said that taking the day off would be used against her somehow.
I decided to call my father earlier in the evening (what I'd originally planned to do the previous day) and talked with him close to an hour and a half. Today, for some reason, he felt a need to share his version of the story behind his abandonment and why his marriage to my mother had broken: many of the details he'd provided in his recollection seemed to lend his version of events some credibility -- so between their two sides of the same story, a clearer and ''truer'' picture is coming into focus.
I never followed-up on the call to the workplace, expecting that I'd hear from somebody if it would later be learned that she couldn't/wouldn't make it in and that I might be asked to cover for her. I'd asked my mother if she'd been getting any calls from the girl and she said she'd been getting them throughout the day, but since her ''standard'' minutes on her phone were about gone through for this month she had been refusing the calls, so this had left me with the uncertainty of whether or not she had gone to work at all. Even so, I'd intended to swing by the worksite at evening shift change anyway, whether she was there or not, on the premise that I was going to offer her a ride back to her apartment.
I had somehow managed to fall into sleep and was awakened by the sound of my mother yelling into her phone. As I listened, it became evident that Gracie had called in trying to get a ride from work and that somehow, when she'd made mention that she wouldn't/didn't have any cash to pay my mother for the ride, the conversation descended into a blow-up over whether or not my mother had agreed to take her to the hospital and how using the ambulance service was going to be responsible for putting her into even further economic difficulties.
Gracie had apparently been waiting on a cab by the time I'd arrived, and she made some noises of groaning discomfort as she climbed onto my motorcycle, but seemed her usual plucky conversational self by the time she'd gotten off at her apartment complex, mentioning how my mother had gotten angry with her and how that might result in her not coming by the house for a while.
''Week in Review''
January 15, 2015 (Friday)
Accompanied my mother and Gracie on a circuit of stops this morning: Gracie wanted to get several jars of won bok kim chee at the Asian market, my mother to locate and visit the Latin grocery (where I was finally able to find Jarrito's ''tamarind'' flavor soda, now that I'd again decided to phase out all soda drinks) so she could find chicken feet for soup stock, and I'd wanted to retrieve my eyeglasses from ''Sears Optical'' (which are the most problematic and frustrating things since that bum-rush job done in Honolulu) as well as pick up a few items at ''Kroger'' and retrieve my packages from the post office. During the errand run Gracie had revealed that her ambulance bill was $3,000 (!) -- she said she'd again try to get ''charity care'' to cover the expense. After dropping Gracie off at her apartment, I'd offered to carry some of her bags upstairs when she mentioned that she'd be making a couple of return trips to the vehicle, and decided to use that opportunity (as well as my full bladder) as the excuse to peer inside her apartment since I'd missed the opportunity to do so X-mas Eve morning when she'd gotten sick, and was aghast at the condition of the kitchen, but then even more horrified to see that it appeared that she'd been severely neglecting her toilet which was in a terribly stained state.
''
16:05, Eastern Standard Time
January 19 - 22, 2015 (Monday-Thursday)
Took advantage of the unusually warm weather Monday (Jan. 19) by doing some ''spring cleaning'' in my living area and by washing the motorcycle. Attempts to pump air in my tires met with disaster as my pump hose sprang a leak at its base, thus completing the breakage (ironically, I'd halfway sincerely looked into the possibility of buying a replacement pump during our shopping and errand run last Friday), so I'd asked my mother if she wouldn't mind taking me out to the ''kmart'' on Franklin Road Thursday (Jan. 22) to acquire one that I was interested in and which a search of the kmart website the previous evening said was available in stock -- as an incentive for taking me there, I'd offered to treat her to the lunch buffet at ''taaza'' Indian restaurant, of which both of us were curious but neither had yet been.
The Indian restaurant visit was a bust, because my mother's older ''friend'' who's always demanding her time & attention called to be picked up from her hair salon visit; instead, I accompanied them to their standard routine lunch spot, ''K[anes] & W[alkers].''
''Week in Review''
January 24, 2014 (Saturday) - February 1, 2015 (Sunday)
Jan. 24 (Sat.) was the start of ''Drama Week'' that I'd hoped would end all drama as it relates to this tag-along girl, when she yet again, in her usual fashion, decided to unearth another argument where none needed to sprout forth and, again, over something asininely trivial that I'd decided I'd about had enough of blowing up at every little instigation of hers, whereby she'd again opened herself up for the bomb drop when she'd decided to use this argument as another opportunity to challenge me to outright tell her that I really did not want to be with her as a couple, whereupon I took that as my opening to finally confront her about herself (her nasty living surroundings, her lack of proper personal hygiene, her piss-poor handling of finances, as well as her petty argumentativeness and general disregard for helpful suggestions) and to explain to her that if this was all that she's shown me about herself the entire time since I'd insisted upon knowing how she'd live ''on her own'' to give myself a purer idea of what I'd be expected to subject myself to if deciding to ''live together'' with her, then all indications were that there was never going to be an ''Us,'' because I would utterly refuse to live under such conditions.
Of course none of this went over very well, and she expressed it the next day (Jan. 25, Sun.) by deliberately relieving me from my workshift 3/4 of an hour late, and then when it was my turn to come in again to take over the next shift and let her go on home, she kept sticking around the workplace three (3) hours past shift change (getting in my way and greatly distracting me from my duties), determined to try to explain to me that based on some looking-up on the Internet that she had done that she was convinced that I'm afflicted with ''narcissistic personality disorder,'' until I finally had to make an excuse to do one of my normal routine tasks earlier than usual just to impress upon her that I needed her out of my presence and away from the work site.
Monday (Jan. 26) started the next stage in the drama drag-out -- that's when in an email that had been sent on that date by our direct supervisor to our ''client'' supervisor, which I'd accessed and read during my ''Tuesday'' (Jan. 27) workshift, was harping again about how unwilling I was to supply a ''publicly open & accessible'' contact phone number, while slipping in a couple of comments giving indication that my relationship with ''Gracie'' is not entirely on the best of terms, and he told the account supervisor that he'd try to get the number out of me during the next shift change-over.
When he confronted me about the issue later, I'd mentioned that our ''main office'' had access to the number I'd given them (my mother's number) and that I'd be supplying that same number (although sadly, in retrospect, I could've checked and seen that I'd still had Gracie's old ''TracFone'' number in my list of contacts and I could've just as easily provided that one instead), sadly because I'll admit to having felt somewhat ''intimidated'' by his insistence over it, along with his criticisms about my avoiding certain duties (actually, one very specific and insignificant duty) which I'd tried to explain to him several different times that while he was indeed ''technically'' correct that it was something I ''could have'' addressed, and maybe should do periodically, that because I have almost absolutely zero requirement to involve myself at all directly with said and related tasks that I'd reasonably treated it as a responsibility that fell more into the lap of those whose activities & interactions are actually routinely more directly influenced and affected by it.
He'd assured me that he would be speaking equally to Gracie about the same topics he'd discussed with me, including (somewhat at my suggestion/recommendation & passive approval) about keeping ''home'' & ''work'' separate (in hopes that, since she so determinedly refuses to listen to me about anything that she perceives is intended to put a crimp in her sense of entitlement, she'd listen to and take more seriously the same edict handed down from him-- a ''white'' man --that she should not be lingering on the job site after work hours or tying up the company phone line making personal calls to me at work).
Later into the same evening (Tuesday) I'd received a phone call from our ''main office'' supervisor who expressed indignation over the fact that the ''on-site'' direct supervisor had no legitimate authority to pressure me to provide a phone number for our work site; I thanked him for the call even though I'd repeated to him several different times throughout the conversation that I did not think it was really all that big of an issue to make a case out of, and so I'd genuinely thought the issue was done and over with, perhaps with the slight anticipation of possibly getting a little bit of blow-back from the site supervisor, likely having the suspicion that I might have been somehow directly responsible for the backlash he'd received prior to the call being made to me.
About an hour of so afterwards, Gracie called and wanted to pout & gripe about me revealing her to herself over the weekend, but spoke initially about how she was blessed-out by the on-site supervisor that same day and how because, according to her, he'd declared a number of things relating to our personal interactions that ''clients'' had supposedly complained about which were not truthful (or I suspect, if based on actual witness-based information, may have been ''misinterpreted''), that what he'd told her/us about keeping ''home & work'' separate was now going to fall upon her deaf ears (one, plus ''negative-one,'' equals: zero)!
Before I'd forced her off the phone after about ten minutes, if that (basing my urgency on the fact that my mother had told her up front that her phone minutes were running low, which I'm almost certain was a conversation-limiting ploy), she said she'd wanted to come over on Wednesday (Jan. 27) to ''talk'' -- which I shot down saying that if she wanted to come by to utilize the Internet that would've been okay, but any ''talking'' would've been out of the question, as it would interfere with other concerns I'd have been addressing and devoting my attentions to.
Friday (Jan. 30) was the day Gracie decided that she wanted to drop by the house, just as I had woken up and was about to start on the next-to-final phase of my catching-up project, so again I wasn't being much of an audience for her, even after my mother had stepped out for a while to attend to a few errands, so after bouncing off of me as a half-hearing ear she decided to spend the rest of her time on the hallway computer, watching videos and putting in a job application.
When I arrived at work later, I was told that earlier in the day our immediate 'site supervisor' had essentially been told to pack it up and G.T.F.O. of Dodge: it was initially explained to me that his termination had something to do with something he'd said to somebody on the site, but I wasn't given any details, nor did I ask for any in-depth information regarding any of it. I was compelled to mention this firing to my mother after she had picked me up from work while dropping Gracie off (I had requested a ride to work in response to the weather reports calling for subfreezing temperatures and high wind gusts), stating that I wondered how such a revelation would affect Gracie's perception of him and his ''status'' now, considering her constant acquiescing to anything he had to say contrary to anything I would have to say to her (even if it was the same information I'd tried to impart to her, or if it was something that she would fight against me on until he verified it later -- despite how much she would complain about his contributing to making our job a ''toxic work environment'').
When I came in to relieve her on Saturday (Jan. 31), she broke out in song, singing the ''Ding-Dong the Witch is Dead'' lyrics (in their entirety) and seemed confused that I'd expressed indifference and would not join her in the mockery: I'd explained that I did not take delight in his removal and that everything relating to his firing was, for the time being from my perspective, merely ''hearsay,'' even though we all pretty much agree upon how much of a ''jerk'' he presented himself as. It was during this shift switch-over that she mentioned that she'd heard word that the supervisor was partially $#!Tcanned as a result of launching a racial slur at or about one of the number of visitors who sometimes must be interacted with, as well as the guy who wound up replacing him in his position having supposedly called our main office supervisor with complaints about his predecessor's overstepping his authority and bringing other employees' ''personal business'' into the fray; I also had to correct her (and by extension, him) when she claimed that the now-previous supervisor had mentioned that he believed it was me who had (quote) ''stabbed him in the back'' (unquote) and that she believed that I had ''reported'' him to address his inappropriate behavior, thus also erroneously arriving at the conclusion that I had somehow had an active hand in his downfall.
The following day (Feb. 1, Sun.) she filled me in on a few more details, saying that our ''Big Boss'' had informed her that our now-former immediate supervisor had had numerous issues about his disrespectful and otherwise inappropriate attitudes & behavior in the past, but had continued to be retained by the company despite these problems because the company bosses were ''feeling sorry'' for his situation, given that his wife was afflicted with ''M.S.'' as well as having been stricken by several strokes (the latter of which the ex-super himself had already informed me of long ago, as well as informing me just a few days before his removal that his daughter, whom he had told me several months prior that ''Child Protection Services'' had temporarily removed from his custody because of his trailer's unsanitary living conditions, had been diagnosed with some ''developmental'' problems and that she might even have a touch of ''bipolar'').
''Double-Weekend in Review''
Winter 2011 (Dec-Feb) /
Spring 2012 (Mar-May) /
''Long-Vacation'' 2012* (Jun-Jul) /
''Lost-Summer'' 2012* (Jul-Aug) /
''Lost-Autumn'' 2012* (Sep-Nov) /
''Lost-Winter'' 2012* (Dec-Feb) /
''Lost-Spring'' 2013* (Mar-May) /
''Lost-Summer'' 2013* (Jun-Aug) /
''Lost-Autumn'' 2013* (Sep-Nov) /
''Lost-Winter'' 2013* (Dec-Feb) /
Spring 2014 (Mar-May) /
Summer 2014 (Jun-Aug) /
Autumn 2014 (Sep-Nov) /
Winter 2014 (Dec-Feb) /
Spring 2015 (Mar-May) /
Summer 2015 (Jun-Aug) /
Autumn 2015 (Sep-Nov) /
Winter 2015 (Dec-Feb) /
Spring 2016 (Mar-May) /
Summer 2016 (Jun-Aug) /
Autumn 2016 (Sep-Nov) /
Winter 2016 (Dec-Feb)
