#(when in reality he bought them specifically to invite mine)

[kokoinupi]

I am so very glad to have motivated you to indulge in the minedai brainrot now you are legally required to give the fic to me IMMEDIATELY I CRAVE IT

AAAA i can't yet!! i am a very slow writer but i am bullying myself into finishing this Eventually.... i will @ you when i post it tho!

(here's a lil snippet. just for you. just kidding i love spoiling my own fics)

[translatemunson]

track five — the ex tapes

warnings: not proofread. female reader.

author's note: THANK YOU FOR ALL THE LOVE DURING THIS SERIES! (sorry i took too long to update). this is the last chapter, and the epilogue will be posted tomorrow! hope you like it!

series masterlist

It has been weeks. Eddie kept his part of the promise. No calls, no mentions of you — actually, he only talked about how amazing it was to work with Charlie Rogers and how he was happy to get someone that’s not usually from the rock scene to work on something so honest, but so powerful at the same time.

Having your name on the credits had turned out to be a thing for a successful song. You were working so much these days that you feel you’re reaching your limits. Of course, working with Corroded Coffin added a few more people interested to your list, and you were trying to fit everyone.

But you just couldn’t.

That’s why you decided to go on a break. It was a good time since Nancy and Robin were in town, so you would have some time to go out and help them find a place to move in. Driving around LA and having late nights with your friends was everything you needed to keep your mind off work.

And away from the new hit song from Corroded Coffin. 

Kinda impossible to forget when the song keeps playing non stop at every radio station. A few days ago, you got a special delivery from the band’s manager: a VIP ticket and an official invite to watch them at one of the sold out Los Angeles concerts, where they would play the song live for the first time. Little did he know you already had tickets for the most distant seat from the stage.

That’s where you’re watching the concert right now. You bought their CDs, listened to all their songs, learned how to sing them. And even if it hurted you to admit, you are really liking it. The energy, how they can control the crowd and engage effortlessly.

And Eddie. You can’t take your eyes off him.

The lights are lowered and the instruments stop. Eddie takes the center stage, a different guitar in his hands. It’s the same one he played when you recorded the song. He pulls his hair back and smiles.

“Having a good time?” The crowd screams. “Glad to hear that. I’m kinda nervous, y’know? I have this special song, like you all heard it already and something says it’s a fans’ favorite,” he smiles and you swear he found you in the middle of the crowd. No, it’s just something in your mind. “It’s also my favorite. This one is special because I wrote it with someone that’s really good with words, and I feel like this is more personal than anything that I wrote.”

His confession is followed by a small pause. He scans the faces around, looking at a specific place close to the stage. Maybe that’s where he was expecting to see you. As soon as reality hits — you’re not there, you didn’t accept his offer — he looks to the band and then smiles to the crowd, wearing the Eddie rockstar Munson mask over his sadness.

“I feel like since this is our second sold out show in LA, I might sing it live. What do you think?”

Everyone screams. People know the words to it, and as a songwriter you can’t lie, this is always fulfilling. However this one song hurts the most to hear. Eddie strums the first note and you feel like someone is taking your heart out.

You'll be the saddest part of me

A part of me that will never be mine

It's obvious

Tonight is gonna be the loneliest

Everyone sings it together. You hold your body tightly, but you can’t avoid moving your head with the melody. 

There's a few lines that I have wrote

In case of death, that's what I want, that's what I want

So don't be sad when I'll be gone

There's just one thing I hope you know, I loved you so

It’s funny to hear it. You’re almost sure those lines were written by you, but when Eddie sings it, he makes it his.

'Cause I don't even care about the time I've got left here

The only thing I know now is that I wanna spend it

With you, with you nobody else here

Tonight is gonna be the loneliest

Eddie’s voice gets heavier and stronger on the chorus. He’s singing from his heart, it’s more transparent than when you recorded. It’s like he’s in pain, real pain. Heart being torn apart, every single emotion being pulled out of him.

I'm sorry but I gotta go

If you'll ever miss me give this song another go

And I just keep on thinking how you made me feel better

And all the crazy little things that we did together

In the end, in the end, it doesn't matter

If tonight is gonna be the loneliest

It hits you harder than you expect. You’re sobbing, tears rolling down your face. Because this song is so personal it is strange to hear it in the voice of thousands of people. You can’t remember anymore which part it’s yours, which is Eddie’s and which lines you wrote together, eyes connecting and words matching.

As the guitar solo starts, you decide you can’t take it anymore. You hold your bag closer to your chest and walk towards the exit. That’s the limit.

You leave the venue almost immediately. You’re running, the tears making your vision blurry, people asking you if you’re alright. No, you’re not, but you don’t wanna say it out loud. You find the first vacancy cab and give the address to the bar where you're meeting your friends.

It’s not impossible to find Steve waving his arms, complaining about never beating Robin in any game. Robin is laughing, holding their beers and begging Steve to let this go. Nancy sees you first and says “Steve, stop, she’s here.”

“Y/N?” he spots the signs that you’ve been crying. “Come here, you need a drink and a few hugs,” Steve opens his arms, but you can’t move.

“Hey, let’s get your face washed, ok?” Nancy steps in, holding your hand and taking you out of your mind. “We’ll be right back, guys.”

You follow Nancy to the back of the bar, not paying attention to anyone around you. You let her guide you to the sink, get some paper towels and remove the make up stains. You do your best to not start crying again. Nancy whispers that everything is gonna be alright while doing it.

“Do you want me to watch over your drinks tonight? I’m not opposed to the idea of you drinking to get these out, but maybe you should be careful,” she says as she throws away the paper towels. 

“No, it’s fine, I’m not drinking today. I promised Steve I would drive his car back, so no alcohol for me.” You check yourself in the mirror, glad that Nancy still does a pretty good job as one of your best friends. “You can drink your weight in alcohol, tho, I’ll let you crash in my bed for the night.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really. The sofa is comfortable, so don’t worry.”

“Let’s go back, Steve ordered fries and mini burgers before you arrived,” and then Nancy is holding your hand and dragging you back to the table. 

Robin moves in the booth to give you space, and you sit across from Steve and Nancy. He looks for any signs that something is very wrong, and when there’s none — already used to your super emotional persona, and he doesn’t think it’s bad — he asks “Did he talk to you?”

“Steve!” Nancy slaps his arm.

“Ouch! No, but really, did he see you?”

“I’ve told you I was going on my own, staying far away from him. So, no, Steve, we didn’t talk,” you feel your lips getting bitter. Robin passes you the soda she got you. “Thanks, Robie.”

“And the song? Did he play it?”

“Yes, he did. And it was perfect,” you admit. “Can we just not talk about it? I'd rather die than think about Eddie Munson.”

“Wait, just one more question!” Robin has the devilish smile that sends a wave of fear through your bones. “Do you still love him?”

“Robin, not a good time,” Nancy rolls her eyes. 

“She clearly does, and I’m not letting her run away from this chance.”

“He promised me we would follow our separate paths, and I’m doing my part.” You still didn’t tell any of your friends that Eddie kissed you before you went back home that day. And you would die before sharing this detail.

“Such a talented songwriter, but so dumb. Y/N, really, that boy is in love with you. It’s been weeks since you wrote it, I can’t believe you’re not seeing each other,” Steve says.

“Well, we had a meeting to agree on my part of the deal, but that was it.” Yeah, you walked into the room with your manager, Eddie and his team, but it was a short meeting. He sat there and insisted that you would get the bigger cut of the revenue of the song — since they decided to release it as a special single —, and you just agreed. Papers were signed and that was it. He didn’t even talk directly to you.

“Stupid Y/N,” Robin sights.

“Can we just move on to something else? Please.”

“So, we finally decided on which apartment we’re renting,” Nancy says. 

“Please tell me it’s the one close to the beach, I would love to crash there after a long day,” you share your thoughts, even though everyone knows it already. Maybe you should break your lease and get this one. 

“Hm, no, actually we made an offer to rent the unit across yours!” Robin shares excitedly. “We should move in next month!”

“And since Johnathan only lives a few hours up north, we are finally gonna be back together!” Robin adds.

“No way!” Steve celebrates. “That’s amazing news! But how did you get it?”

“Oh, Nancy met the lady that owns the place a few days ago and used her persuasive skills to convince her to let us rent it,” Robin explains, dipping her fries in ketchup.

“That’s great! So happy to have you close again! We’re throwing a house welcome party! We can invite some of your LA friends so you could also meet them and create a circle for you as well,” you’re already making plans, finally getting a missing piece back to you.

“Yes! Dinners on me!“ Steve announces.

“I’ll bring the music! And some guys and ladies that might catch your attention,” you blink.

Steve waves to someone behind you, but you assume he’s just calling the waiter to get more beers. 

“It’s gonna be one hell of a party!” Robin cheers.

“Am I invited?” The voice you could recognize anywhere.

He steps closer to the table, wearing fresh clothes and his classic denim vest. Robin slips to the middle of the booth and you have no option but to make space for him.

“Eddie, you came!” Steve says and gives you a I’m sorry smile. “How was the concert?”

“It was great. Nancy! Robin! If I knew you were in town, I’d brought you all to the concert,” he takes the vacancy seat by your side and shots you a timid smile. “Did you get the VIP ticket I’ve sent you?”

“You had a VIP ticket and still went with the shitty tickets?” Robin is furious at you.

“So you were there?” Eddie smiles.

There are four pairs of eyes on you and none of it helps with your feelings. You face Eddie and push him out of the place he just took.

“Ouch! Is that a way to treat a rockstar?” He says, a lot of humor in his words.

“Shut up, Munson,” you stare at your friends, “don’t go anywhere without me, or I’m making your lives miserable.”

“Why should we leave?,” Steve makes himself more comfortable, and you know he can’t wait to watch you from the other side of the bar.

“Good luck finding another roommate, Steven.”

“I have two right here,” he points to Nancy and Robin.

You leave the table and Eddie follows you to the exterior area of the bar. He lights a cigarette and leans on the wall. 

“I was there,” you admit.

“I know, my manager saw you walk in,” Eddie spills like it’s no big deal. So he knew you were there even before your friends said it. “You should’ve accepted my gift, you know, it would’ve been a better experience.”

“I thought we were walking away from each other's lives.”

“Well, I guess I can’t do it. Because I wanted you there,” his eyes avoid yours like the plague. “But you still went there, on your own terms.”

“Guess I can’t do it as well,” you hug your body and walk until you are face to face with him, “and now we are here.”

“How do you wanna spend your time, darling? Answer truly.”

“You’re not using our song to start this conversation,” you laugh.

“Yes, I am. Because I know that I wanna spend my time with you.”

His words hit you right in the face, and you take a step back. You convinced yourself that the kiss didn’t mean anything to him, because he hadn’t tried to reach you. You were trying to keep your promise, but it was hard not to ignore it when the old flames reignited after the kiss.

“Eddie…”

“No, Y/N, no what ifs this time around. We are older, we have the means to make this work, we are not just two teenagers trying to hurt each other. I just need to know if you feel the same way.” He tosses the cigarette and takes one step closer.

“That’s unfair, Eddie.” The tears roll down your face and Eddie reaches to hold you closer. “The moment I walked into the studio I knew I never had gotten over you. Besides, it was never easy to understand you.” 

You expect him to say something. The game you’ve been playing for so long must end. And if it isn’t now, then it’s never. After all, maybe you don’t understand how he makes you feel this way. Faster heart, lighter thoughts, honesty all over your veins.

“You do understand me, darling. You made it very clear with your letters, your poems, your songs, your actions,” Eddie steps into your personal space, hands reaching for your face. “You were the only one that could do it.”

“Yet I still said those terrible things to you.”

“Who cares? I’ve said things I regret as well. But I don’t regret calling you, with my heart in my hands,” your foreheads touch and he lowers his voice. “I wasn't gonna let you slip through my fingers again.”

“Eddie…”

“That promise was stupid. Please.”

His eyes are dark and focused on you. You move your hands to his face, cupping his cheeks and finding out that all the things you love are still there. Eddie is here.

He closes his eyes and sighs, a breathy “I love you” escaping his lips.

“I love you, Eddie,” you confess. “And I will love you until my heart stops beating.”

“Hope this day never comes,” he opens his eyes. “Because I've been stupidly in love with you since the day we met.”

The confession is raw. You expect him to kiss you like that day in the studio, but when his lips press your cheeks, you get it. The whole world is watching the both of you: he’s on the stage, you’re in the studios. And he wants to take things slow. And you’re fine with that, as long as he never leaves you again.

“Let’s go back inside and annoy the shit out of those idiots,” you suggest, and he laughs.

“Just like old times?”

“Better than them.”

taglist: @lokiofasgard616 @munsonology @sidthedollface2

[throatcoat]

//chapter 11// //hopes and dreams and trying to stay somewhere in reality//

i sit on the cement steps, my back against the metal railing. the autumn air makes me want to bury my whole face in the oversized scarf on my neck. i am alone again and my face feels hot with tears threatening to spill out. i do not want to cry. my ear buds are pressed tightly in, Bright Eyes' Motion Sickness blares out, i can hear it even when i remove the one from my right ear. i am watching the dry leaves fall down at my feet, and i am half listening to my ipod, half listening to the other kids who dotted the hillside during lunch hour.

15 minutes earlier, i had asked a boy i knew from church, who i thought would be kind enough to say yes, to the homecoming dance. the laugh came out first, the confused look on his face made my collarbones burn, as if he was about to ask, "how dare you?" instead, he asked me if i really thought he would say yes to that, someone like me? i did not say a word as he stared at me. i felt pathetic as he walked away. i knew if i had been any other girl, the answer would have been different. that unfamiliar tummy-drop hit and i almost felt like i would throw up.

i never felt jealousy over people, but experiences. there was an envy in wishing i could be loved the way everyone else seemed to be, in making friends who wanted to do everything with you. i remember the one of the first times that my stomach soured with jealousy. it was the summer before my sophomore year, and i watched as my two best friends replaced me with something different. i did not understand why i was left behind, but it made sense in some ways. i clicked through the photos on facebook, one by one, them at the lake, laughing with the girl who i looked nothing like. i wanted to know what the water felt like that day, but instead i was picking up the broken toilet pieces in my parents bathroom. i wondered when things had changed, and in some ways, i felt cheated.

for my 16th birthday, my dad had grabbed the old foosball table from his firecamp. he set it up in the cleaned out garage and told me to invite the boys, a friend or two. i did not know how to tell him that my two best friends did not really talk to me much anymore. i did not know how to tell him now i had no friends, not even lanie. she was too busy with brandon and boys. he asked me about jeremy, maybe i could ask if he wanted to come down from minnesota. i guess he forgot that jeremy was a ghost now, he did not even get to turn to 16. i did not know how to tell him that parents won't let their kids over, they won't even let them talk to me. the second time i felt envy was seeing everyone else's 16th, the big parties, the booze, smiles, surrounded by everyone i had spent my entire life around. mine was a store bought lemon meringue and my sister and cousin wearing wigs in photos, trying to make it seem a little better than it was.

sometimes, i would go places i knew others would be. the county fairs, the parties i was not invited to, the school dances in hallways, every football game. i would sit there and want so desperately for someone to say hello. i would watch the other girls my age in matching outfits, i would watch the boys give them drinks, i wanted someone to dance with, even for a moment. instead, the only thing that kept me company was the cigarette dangling from my lips.

i wonder what changes in people after third grade, i wonder who decides what makes something wrong no matter how they change and try to adapt. i wonder what was wrong with me specifically, because i would try and try and try.

one day, i sat in the bathroom for five hours, learning how to make my eyes wider, my features lighter, wanting to leave as pretty as all the other girls i would stare at in the halls, in the magazines, tumblr. i used to beg my mom to take me to the western store, just so i could get the same bedazzled bootcut jeans that all the other girls would be wearing, the same justins and perfectly curled hair. i dyed my hair blonde and practiced smiling in the mirror until my face hurt. i would practice every facial expression until it looked right, until i could be understood with just a raise of my brows. i changed everything about myself. the envy was not in competition, but the want and need and desperation to be accepted.

mostly, i made myself sick. in the bathroom, between meals, i started to take up running. i did the things my grandmother taught me, my father said worked for him. i wanted so bad to be loved and accepted, but as the bones protruded and the teeth fell out, my smile was no longer beautiful. it never was enough anyways, fat girl, thin girl. they went from oinking noises outside the stalls to fake gags. it did not make me pretty like the other girls, but it gave me something else to focus on. something i could control.

i used to think i was pretty before the envy started.

now, i just feel used up and disgusting. i never stopped feeling like the insecure teenaged girl i probably always will be, at least, in someway.

it is hard not to fall back into the same patterns as that teenaged girl.

the sitting alone and smoking alone and refusing another morsel.

the ripped at the knee tights and home hair cuts.

the cigarette clinging to the clothes and the running nose.

she has urges just like anyone else.

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 74 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Previously: Galactica shut down for the holidays, and Bianca turned Courtney’s shitty day around.

This Chapter: Christmas Eve. Fame plays hostess for Juju and Detox’s family, Bianca and Courtney jet off to Puerto Rico, Violet spends the evening with Sutan, Raja and Raven, and Pearl thirsts for Dahlia.

***

“Patrick?” Fame called over her shoulder, a big porcelain vase on the table in front of her.

“Yes darling?” Patrick was sitting in an armchair, his finger holding his place in the crime novel he was reading, Charles curled up on the floor in front of the crackling fireplace.

“What do you think of this?” Fame took a step back, showing off the greenhouse bouquet she had arranged, their gardener bringing them in after his rounds, snow covering the ground outside. “I was hoping they could be the centerpiece for tonight?”

They were upstate, in what Karl had jokingly started to call The Farm one summer. In reality, it was a mansion with several acres of land, the incredible garden the reason for the nickname, though Karl had insisted it was because upstate New York was basically Hicksville.

Fame and Patrick had bought it forever ago, the property supposed to be a real estate investment, but when they had visited it to oversee the remodel during the fall of the year they got it, Fame had fallen in love instantly.

She adored The Farm, loved the open land, loved the space that reminded her of her childhood’s free roam, loved that Charles had all the space in the world, the property so big that no one ever bothered them while they were there.

“I think that’s lovely dear,” Patrick smiled, taking a sip of the spiced eggnog the chef had made. “Juju’s going to love that.”

“Good.” Fame smiled, a moment of happiness washing over her body. Juju and Detox were coming up for Christmas, bringing their children along, the bedrooms already prepared for them.

When Detox and Juju had accepted her invitation to join them upstate, Fame had been overjoyed, spending the holiday with her friends instead of family so much more enjoyable, and best of all, it required absolutely no flying.

Unlike the Manhattan townhouse, The Farm was decorated in a traditional Christmas red and green, a fresh cut actual pine tree set up in the parlor, copious amounts of gifts for Kelly and the twins already under the tree.

“I’ll go check up on the chef.” Fame put down her garden shears, quickly drying her hands on her tea towel, collecting the scraps for the compost out back. “Make sure they’re cooking the Brussels sprouts correctly.”

The night's dinner was a wild lemon and honey salmon, a spinach salad with goat cheese and beets, the dessert spiced tea-poached pears for the adults and a sundae bar for the kids.

“And the mac and cheese?” Patrick raised an eyebrow.

“Of course,” Fame smiled. “I specifically instructed the chef to go for the mega size Kraft. The little ones should know it’s Christmas too.”

In reality, Fame had requested a complete restock of what Patrick lovingly called the kids cupboard, a whole section dedicated to the Sanderson kids, Kelly always going straight there the second she stepped foot inside. Just because she was a teenager who rarely attended family events anymore didn’t mean that Fame would forget about her.

“The sleds are ready to go too.”

Fame had never wanted kids of her own, but she loved and adored her entire chosen family, especially the little ones. Spoiling them had been one of her favorite pastimes since they’d met, when Kelly was still a chubby little baby with a passion for sticking jewelry into her mouth.

Today, she’d planned a lovely afternoon of fun in the snow for when everyone arrived. Fame had even bought a new snow set, the pure white Prada demanding to go home with her, her new mittens lined with rabbit fur so she could truly get down and dirty while building the snowman she hoped they had time for.

It was one of the most liberating things about The Farm, the acres of land meaning that there was a sense of privacy she could never feel in the city.

“And did you go for the wood?”

“Of course I went for the wooden sleds,” Fame rolled her eyes, Patrick so often playing stupid on purpose just to rile her up. “The antique German design.” There was no way Fame was going for anything but the best, and Julia and Owen deserved the best sledding experience money could buy, gourmet marshmallows and Jacques Torres hot chocolate already in the kitchen ready to go.

“Mmh?” Patrick smirked, taking another sip of his egg nog, and Fame went over to kiss him, just to wipe it off his face.

***

“Kelly Sanderson! Don’t you forget your scarf!”

“Yes mom,” Kelly rolled her eyes, but snatched her scarf, putting it around her neck before walking towards the house with her gym bag over her shoulder, and Juju couldn’t help but smile.

They were emptying out the car, the drive upstate a complete pain since she had been nauseous the entire time, Detox driving while Kelly was in the front seat, so Juju had been alone in the back with the twins because someone had to keep an eye on them, and Kelly refused.

“Okay champ,” Detox looked at his son who was still in the car, Julia standing on the snow-covered ground in her Frozen jacket. “I’m going to unbuckle you, but that doesn’t mean that you can-“

“Bye dad!!”

“Fuck!”

Juju laughed as Owen ran as fast as he could towards the front door, his sister right behind him.

“We got them!”

Juju turned to see Patrick call from the door, a big smile on the man's face, Fame right behind him.

“Your death wish!” Detox yelled, and Juju smiled before digging back in, her husband quickly gathering enough suitcases to make his first trip up to the house, Juju taking a moment to enjoy the blessed silence of private property upstate.

She fished her phone out of her handbag, a sense of relief washing over her when she saw that Bianca had texted. They had only spoken once last week, when Juju called her to apologize for the dinner party pile-on, and Bianca said it was okay, but she also seemed a bit rushed and distracted. Juju was hoping that it was just work, that she wasn’t genuinely mad, but she couldn’t be sure, especially since she hadn’t responded to any messages the night before. Looking at the messages today, though, it really did seem like they were good.

JUJU: Hey there. Thinking of you, hope you’re good.

JUJU: To be clear, I was thinking of you because I got up to take a very large dump.

JUJU: :-D

JUJU: Hehe

JUJU: <3

JUJU: OK goodnight! xo

JUJU: Merry Christmas Eve, lady! I love you.

BIANCA: Love you too, kiddo. Sorry for being MIA last night.

BIANCA: I’m taking Courtney to PR for Christmas, we’re heading to JFK right now.

BIANCA: Tell the monsters that I owe them some presents when I get back.

JUJU: Oh wow!! Have fun!!!! (And trust me, they will collect on those presents, lol)

She sighed, slipping the phone back into her bag, thinking that perhaps she should keep Bianca’s vacation plans under wraps for now. She turned towards the house, watching Fame on her knee, unlacing Julia’s shoes. Yes, better not to be the messenger for this particular news.

***

“So...is it everything you imagined?” Bianca asked, a wry grin on her face. She’d been a bit shocked when Courtney revealed in the car that she’d never flown first class before. She thought that surely someone as cute and charming as her had been slipped a free upgrade or two by a flight attendant trying to hit on her.

“It’s perfect.” Courtney tilted her champagne glass towards Bianca for a toast, her eyes taking on that slightly glazed, naughty look as she sipped on her third glass.

“Perfect, huh?” Bianca asked, clinking her glass lightly. “Then I guess you don’t want another present…”

“Wait, no...I do!” Courtney exclaimed, suddenly looking so serious that Bianca couldn’t hold back her cackling laughter.

Drunk Courtney was turning into one of her favorite people, the comically exaggerated faces she made when her defenses were down too cute for words.

“Oh, well in that case…” She reached into her bag and pulled out a box wrapped in sparkling pink and gold.

“How did you fit that in there?” Courtney asked, letting Bianca take her glass so that she had both hands free for the large gift, examining it closely. “Are you Mary Poppins?”

“Yeah, that’s me. A g-rated singing nanny.”

“Hot,” Courtney giggled, and Bianca gave her a stern look. “What, I like sexy nannies. Maria Von Trapp...Fran Fine?!”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Bianca shook her head, amused.

“Oh no, am I being naughty? Are you gonna spank me?” Courtney’s eyes glittered.

Well, this was an unexpected turn. Perhaps something to explore when they weren’t flying thirty thousand feet over an ocean, surrounded by people.

“Open your present.”

“Yes, ma’am…” Courtney said, making Bianca laugh again as she tore into the package, first pulling off the excessive ribbons and bows (Joslyn really shouldn’t be trusted with that kind of thing) and then the glittery paper. She lifted the lid on the box, revealing 5 brand-new designer bathing suits, all from this year’s hottest resort collections. Her eyes lit up. “Ooooh, wow! This is much better than the plan I had.”

“What was your plan?”

“I was just gonna go without a suit,” she said, shrugging a bit as she fluttered her lashes.

“Huh.” Bianca’s brow furrowed in mock disappointment, adding, “Yeah, no, I like your plan better, give these back.”

She reached over and attempted to swipe the box from Courtney’s hand, but Courtney clutched it greedily to her chest.

“No! They’re mine now!”

Bianca laughed, leaning over to press a kiss to her cheek, just as Courtney grabbed her face and went right for her lips.

“Thank you, B. I love them. I love you.”

“I love you too, sunshine.” Bianca rested her forehead against Courtney’s with a happy sigh. “And I can’t wait to see you in them...or out of them.”

***

“Are you sure it’s okay that I’m not helping?” Violet asked. She was sitting on a silver bar stool and feeling absolutely useless, her fingers drumming on the marble breakfast bar.

Raja and Raven’s apartment looked like something from a catalog, big art pieces hung everywhere, fresh flowers in vases even though it was December. Violet had spotted the heavy oak Raja preferred, and the green and gold she gravitated towards, but it was clear that Raven was the main decorator.

“Of course,” Raven smiled, flashing her teeth over her shoulder. She was standing at the counter, filling up the sink so she could rinse off their dishes.

“Let her have the fantasy,” Sutan grinned, putting the empty tray he was carrying down, Raja right behind him. “This is the one time of year Raven pretends she’s the perfect housewife,”

“Fuck off.” Raven flipped him off, “I’m always perfect.”

When Sutan had told Violet he usually spent Christmas Eve with his sister and Raven, Violet hadn't been surprised. What had surprised her was when Sutan told her that Raven insisted on cooking every year. It had been a simple meal, roasted chicken and potatoes with gravy, but it did really seem like Raven had made it herself, Raja in charge of buying the dessert.

It was the first time Violet had celebrated Christmas Eve with anyone since she was 17, and while it was very different from what she usually did, which was wine and a movie, it was nice.

“You are, Princess,” Raja smiled, pressing a quick kiss against her hair as she dropped their dishes. “Now, does anyone want another drink?”

“Me,” Raven grinned, and Violet had to fight not to show the surprise on her face when Raven just grabbed the dirty dishes. She had never thought Raven would be someone who did chores, who’d willingly get her hands dirty.

“I’m driving tomorrow, so no,” Sutan was leaning against the counter, a smile on his lips. He was wearing a blue turtleneck sweater, and Violet had to admit that he looked stupidly hot in it.

“Actually…” Sutan paused, narrowing his eyes. “Raven, what’s going on with your nose?”

“Her nose?” Raja tilted her head, looking at her fiancée. “What do you mean?”

“It looks different. There.” Sutan pointed with his pinky at the edge of her nose.

“She seems normal to me.”

“Can’t you see it? Here, I’ll adjust- Let me push her head back.“ Sutan was just about to reach for Raven’s chin, when he was cut off.

“Hey!” Raven pulled away, “Crazy agent, I’m in the room.” She raised an eyebrow, her tone sharp, “I’m trying a new makeup technique.” Raven pushed Susn’s hand away from her face. “Is that a problem?”

“Of course not…”

“Good,” Raven rolled her eyes. “Now can we please get this done so we can watch a movie?”

“Sure.” Sutan rolled his eyes too, grabbing a dish towel before bumping his hip against Raven, making her yelp, laughter filling the room.

Violet let out a breath of relief she hadn’t even realized she had been holding, the knot in her stomach slowly releasing. She was probably overreacting, a childhood of tense Christmases just under her skin, but it had almost felt like Raven and Sutan were about to get in a fight.

Violet took her glass, a smile on her face as she took a sip of her wine, the uncomfortable feeling thankfully already fading.

***

Earlier, Courtney had enjoyed a healthy buzz from all the first class champagne, but then she fell asleep for half of the flight, and by the time they got to the resort, she felt refreshingly, deliciously sober, closing her eyes to feel the warm, fragrant ocean breeze blow in through the windows.

As Bianca directed the hotel staff with their suitcases, Courtney wandered over to the glass doors, eyes widening when she peered out at the terrace.

“B! Omigod, is this an infinity pool?” She threw open the doors and stepped outside, where a table was set up with a romantic, candlelit dinner. But even better, what was clearly a private infinity pool, which made her so excited she squealed with glee. “I’ve seen pictures of those but I never thought I’d see one in person!”

Bianca appeared in the doorway, a smirk on her face as she replied, “It’s not an infinity pool. It’s an infinity hot tub. The pool is down those steps.”

Courtney giggled, already slipping off her shoes to feel the heavenly warm water. She sat down at the edge of the hot tub, letting her legs dangle into the water while she gazed out at the gorgeous view, the gentle waves under a night sky sparkling with stars. When she mused last week about wanting to go to the beach, she certainly wasn’t imagining a private beach at this posh resort. But for once, everything in her life had worked out perfectly. All because of Bianca, who was now chatting with the hotel manager about their meal.

“Es esta la comida? Todo es vegano, verdad?”

“Si, of course. I hope everything is to your liking, Se��ora.”

“Es perfecto. Gracias.” She pressed some bills into his hand, adding, “Feliz Navidad!”

As soon as he left, Bianca turned back to Courtney, head tilting curiously when she took in her enraptured expression. “What?”

“I just think it’s sexy when you speak Spanish,” Courtney explained, biting her lip.

“Oh yeah? That’s what gets you going? My shitty high school Spanish?” Bianca asked, strolling towards her, dimples deep in her cheeks.

“Uh huh. I like the accent. Say more things…” Courtney leaned back, lashes fluttering, as Bianca laughed and pretended to think real hard.

“Hmm…” She settled in beside Courtney at the edge of the hot tub, slipping an arm around her waist and pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “Dónde está la biblioteca?”

“Ahh, yeah, that’s it,” Courtney growled, and Bianca laughed some more.

“Tu eres una gringa loca…”

“Uh huh…wait, what does that mean?”

“It means you’re a crazy white girl.”

“Oh. Yeah, fair.” Courtney cupped Bianca’s face in her hands, pulling her in for a kiss. Things were just starting to get a little heated when Courtney’s phone began to ring. She had a brief moment of panic before realizing that it was her personal phone, not her work phone. And since very few people made phone calls anymore, she was fairly certain that it would be her parents.

Coming out to her parents had been strange. She knew already, from how they reacted to Ben’s coming out when he was just 13, that they would be fine with her not being straight. But Ben hadn’t been dating someone nearly 20 years his senior.

So she was nervous, more than she’d have admitted, when she finally told them everything that was going on in her life--that she was dating, or rather in love with, a woman.

A woman who was, incidentally, a famous fashion magazine editor many years older than her.

Turned out, it was even more of an anticlimax than she anticipated, Mum giving her some bland platitudes about how love is love and Dad telling her to make sure she takes her vitamin D.

Which at first seemed like an innuendo, but actually was just him being his usual health-conscious self. Either way, they seemed both unsurprised and unbothered by the whole situation, which was a relief, she supposed. It was strangely reminiscent of when she was 16 and she’d announced that she wanted to graduate from high school early and go to America for University. Measured, unemotional support.

Courtney reached for her bag, pulling out the phone and answering, her family’s face popping up on the screen as she tried to figure out the time difference. It must already be Christmas morning in Brisbane.

“Hi, Mum! Happy Christmas!”

“Hello darling!” her mother cooed, elbowing Dad and Ben on either side of her, who she’d clearly forced into position, sitting on the sofa with the Christmas tree behind them, the picture of suburban bliss. “Happy Christmas!”

“Happy Christmas, love!” said Dad, pretending that he wasn’t thoroughly engrossed in whatever crime novel Courtney could see open on his lap.

Mum poked Ben again with her sharp elbow, and he scoffed.

“Yeah, yeah. Happy Christmas. How’s your rich girlfriend?” Ben asked.

“Great. How’s single life?” Courtney shot back, and Ben opened his mouth in mock offense.

“You fuckin’ cunt-”

“What was that, dickhead-”

“Kids!” Mum interrupted, putting on her best scolding voice as Courtney and Ben both broke out into giggles.

“She knows I’m kidding, Mum. Calm down.”

“I’m perfectly calm,” Mum said, rolling her eyes. “I’m just trying to have a pleasant conversation with my daughter, thanks very much.”

“Thanks Mum,” Courtney said, kicking her feet in the warm water. “It’s fine, though. It wouldn’t be Ben if he wasn’t giving me shit.”

“That’s called love, ya slag! Appreciate it!” Ben cut in, and Courtney blew him a kiss.

“Well darling, we just want you to know that we miss you terribly, but we’re so happy that you’re having a nice vacation. Right?”

“So happy,” Ben echoed, sticking out his tongue.

“And we’ve been talking about it, and-” she patted Dad on the thigh, then hit him harder when he didn’t say anything.

“Oh, yes. Ahem. We’ve been talking about planning a trip to New York next year,” Dad said. “How does that sound?”

“That sounds fantastic!” Courtney exclaimed. She hadn’t seen any of them since a quick trip to Australia last spring, before she moved to New York.

Bianca sat down beside her again, silently handing over a glass filled with ice and some kind of milky liquid along with a sexy wink, just out of camera range.

“Guys, check out the view!” While her family exclaimed over how beautiful it was, Courtney took a small sip of the drink, eyes widening with delight. “Omigod, this is like Bailey’s but better. Cheers!”

“Cheers,” Bianca murmured back.

“Hi, Bianca!” Mum called loudly. “Thank you for the wine!”

Apparently, Bianca had sent a whole case of high-end wine to her family home--and even signed both of their names on the card, although her family knew for damn sure that wasn’t something Courtney could afford.

“Um...hi. You’re welcome,” Bianca grinned, giving a quick, friendly wave and then leaning back out of frame, tilting her head towards the table with their food. Courtney nodded, reaching over to squeeze her thigh.

“Mum, thanks for calling. But we should go, we have dinner here and it’s getting cold.”

“Alright my love,” Mum said, smiling warmly. “Have a wonderful night. So long, Bianca!”

“Bye, Mrs. Jenek. Merry Christmas,” Bianca said, and Courtney giggled behind her hand.

“Mrs. Jenek…” she snickered, and Bianca grimaced, then put a hand on her hip.

“Well...shut up, I’m from the South. That’s just what we do.”

“You could at least say ‘doctor.’ She has a Ph.D.”

Bianca facepalmed, and Courtney laughed again, kissing her on the cheek. It was adorable how much she cared about making a good impression on Courtney’s family. “I’m just kidding, she doesn’t care about that stuff.”

“I care, though.”

“I know.” Courtney nuzzled into Bianca’s face. “And I love you for it.”

***

“Hey! I saw that!” Trixie gasped, pointing at Kim, who had just skipped a square on the Monopoly board.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Kim smirked, leaving her car piece as she took another cookie.

They were all gathered around the coffee table, mugs of hot cocoa and Katya’s Christmas cookies on plates, a crackling fire playing on the TV, music playing from the speakers.

“You’re cheating,” Trixie looked around. “Say something!”

“I didn’t see anything, sugar butt,” Katya smiled, her knitting needles in hand. She was weirdly good at Monopoly, Katya dominating the majority of the board. When Trixie had asked her how, and what her strategy was, Katya had simply grinned and told him it was simply how it was done in Soviet Russia.

“Pearl, what about you?”

“What?” Pearl looked up from her phone. “Oh. Sorry. No.”

“Who are you texting?”

Pearl smiled. “No one.”

“Not again,” Trixie groaned, not even interested in whatever girl had managed to capture his best friend’s attention for more than two seconds. “Pearl please. It’s Christmas.”

“Relax Trix,” Pearl grinned, leaning over so she could press a kiss against his cheek. “You’re the only one for me.”

***

PEARL: Was just thinking about you...so I thought I’d say hey ;)

DAHLIA: Oh yeah?

PEARL: Uh huh

DAHLIA: What were you thinking about?

PEARL: Mostly I was hoping to be suffocated by your thighs real soon.

PEARL: Your thighs are the stuff of dreams

DAHLIA: Right now, my thighs are stuck to the plastic cover on my grandma’s couch...but thanks.

PEARL: Hot

DAHLIA: Lol

PEARL: Can I tempt you to sneak away at some point in the next few days? Without pissing off the fam, of course

DAHLIA: Possibly...I have like 40 cousins, so no one would even notice I’d gone

PEARL: Fan fucking tastic

PEARL: Hey guess what?

DAHLIA: You’re horny and wanna fuck?

PEARL: Yes

DAHLIA: Patience, darling

PEARL: But also...it’s midnight. Merry Christmas.

DAHLIA: Shit, I missed mass again!

DAHLIA: For the 7th year in a row!

PEARL: Hahaha

PEARL: Oh god. My roommates are singing happy birthday to Jesus.

PEARL: With a fucking cake and candles

DAHLIA: LOL, HBDJ

***

[inthispagewestanikon]

First Encaunter <3 - a Donghyuk scenario:

word count:1.8k

Ps: Sond - Suran - 1+1=0

Ps²: If there’s any grammar mistake, I apologize!

Just two years ago I was this eighteen years old girl who was a month away from finishing high school and did not know what to do with her life. I wanted to do everything but at the same time did nothing, until my dad came home with a camera and changed my life forever.

I decided to set the camera up and talk about the make up tricks I used, obviously it was for fun so it was poorly edited. Youtube was starting to get really popular in Korea and me being the chatterbox I am thought it would be nice to just talk about random stuff and in my head only my family and friends would care enough to take a look, but boy was I wrong.

The videos suddently began to gain views and people started subscribing and asking for more and so I did. Looking back at it I am just really proud of putting myself out there because I think that now I would probably be majoring in Law school which was something I did not feel like suited me in any way, but both my parents are lawyers so finding a job wouldn’t be hard.

Now it has been one year since I got accepted into Korea University for visual arts and I love it, it helps me with my videos and gives me enough knowledge to act in several entertainment areas if I want to.

With the success of my channel a lot of brands would send me theirs products and invite me to events and meetings; and at this very moment I have an important meeting with this popular make up brand and I’m already running late.

I left my building in a hurry and decided to stop to get coffee to try and at least make up for my mistake, because unless a miracle happened there was no way I’d get there in time. I entered the caffé close by and felt relieved as no one was in line.

“Iced americanos three, Latte two and Iced tead one” I said a bit out of breath.

As I waited for my order a guy came in wearing a pink hoodie and for some reason his face seemed familiar, but right now I don’t have the time to try and guess from where I know him.

The girl was really taking her time making those drinks and my foot was uncontrolably stamping the floor.

“Here you go, that will be 26.700 KRW” she said nicely.

I gave her thirty and turned in order to leave, but as soon as I did it the guy turned to pay causing us to bump into each other, luckily only our phones fell and we both went down to get it quickly.

“I’m really sorry” I bowed repeatedly as I made my way out.

I caught a cab and just went to the building where the meeting was taking place. The ride took 10 minutes or so and the driver made sure to rip me off, that’s why I don’t take cabs anymore, I paid him and entered the building.

Finally I arrived at the 10th floor and they were all waiting for me.

“I’m really sorry to keep you all waiting, I forgot the meeting was this early” I bowed and honestly felt so embaressed, it made me look unprofessional and I hated it because I always give my best at every single thing I put myself into.

They were very understanding and the coffee may have helped me a bit. As soon as I sat down my phone started ringing and I quickly turned it off to avoid causing more inconvenience to those who were there trying to do their jobs.

...

The meeting lasted for two hours and after the bumpy start things flowed smoothly. I left the room and turned on my phone, I tried to unlock it but it said my digital wasn’t working so I typed in my password which was also wrong, then, I realize that the background was not the one I use.

“Ah please, don’t tell me this is that guy’s phone” I wimped.

I ran to the front desk and asked the receptionist to use their phone, which she kindly did.

“H-hello” I said quite nervous.

“Yes, wah thank god” The manly voice said. It was weird dialing my own number let alone have someone else pick up.

“Perhaps, are you the guy from the caffé?” I asked politely

“That’s right! Our phones got mixed up when we bumped into each other” He explained even though I already suspected it.

“Ah you’re right” I said.

“I called so many times but you didn’t answer I was bit desperate sorry” He laughed a bit and I believe it was out of relief.

“Sorry about that, I was in a meeting and after seeing the random number I turned it off thinking it was a mistake” I explained.

“So could you please tell me where you are? I can go to you right away to exchange it” he said and I was impressed at how kind he was, if it was somebody else they would be so angry at me, but after all, I didn’t mean to do so.

“S-sure, I’m near yeouido in an office building but I can go to a caffè nearby” I explained.

“Okay, I will call from the random number I did earlier when I get over there, so don’t be afraid to pick up” He kindly said.

I thanked the lady for letting me use the phone and took the elevator. That area was filled with caffès and I definitely should’ve been more specific.

As I passed the stores I thought that maybe I should get him something as an apology.

“Wah you’re going to get poor this way” I said to myself.

I decided I would wait for him at the ‘Audrey Hepbrun caffe’, on my way there I saw this phone accessory store and I had the brilliant idea of getting him a phone case so he would not mix up his phone.

“welcome!” this girl said as I came in the store.

I was looking at the cases when this pink one caught my eyes, it was the same color as his hoodie from earlier, of course it was silly, but it was just a simbolic gift anyway. I picked it out and quickly paid since I had to get to the caffé soon.

I sat near the window and ordered a coffee, I mean I was already there and this day is just a complete mess, only coffee could boast me up for the rest of my schedule. I was calmly sipping my coffee when my phone rang, well, his phone rang.

“Yes?” I picked up.

“Hello, I am at Yeouido, which caffe are you at?” He asked politely.

“The Audrey Hepburn caffe” I explained.

“Ah okay, I will be right there” The way he said make me feel like I was waiting for my blind date and I felt silly for actually thinking that.

The door opened and I noticed the pink hoodie instantly. I raised my hand in order to make him notice me. I noticed he brought a guy with him and found it weird, maybe he thinks I am creep, that made me feel like an idiot for getting a gift, but I am most likely just overthinking it.

“Ah hello, I’m Kim Donghyuk” He bowed after introducing himself.

“Ah, Choi Hye Jin” I stood up and bowed.

He and the guy along with him sat in the chairs in front of me and I handed over his phone and he handed me mine.

“Wah, I was really scared when I couldn’t access it, I thought I would’ve to buy a new one” He said smiling.

“Yes, I didn’t notice because we both have black cases” I said and looked over to the little white bag by my side, maybe I should just keep it.

“Should I buy you another coffee? After all, it was my mistake as well” He suggested after noticing my empty cup

“Ah no, don’t worry” I denied and looked at the bag again.

“I insist” He said and got up to order.

A few minutes later he came back and I gattered the courage to ‘return the favor’.

“Here it is, hot americano, not many people order hot coffee” he laughed.

“Yes...Well, since you bought me coffee I also have something for you” I said while timidly picking up the white bag.

“Oh you shouldn’t have, it wasn’t your fault, seriously” He tried to deny it.

“I insist” I repeated what he said before “Got you” I smilled.

I handed him over the bag and he reached in to get the case.

“Wah, thank you so much, it even matches my hoddiet” He said and bowed in gratitude.

“Ah yes” I didn’t want to say that’s why I got it, but he would probably notice afterwards.

After giving him the gift we all got ready to say goodbye and leave.

“Well, I’ll get going now. Sorry for the trouble” I bowed as we left the caffe.

“Ah no, it’s okay, really” He did the same.

We both waved goodbye and parted ways. I decided to go home because I had a video to edit and some homework to turn in. As I made my way home I had to cross this busy street, the pedestrian signal was red and I looked up to see the music video for that popular song lately, I guess the group is iKon, I saw them on tv last week.

Once I lifted my eyes I felt all the heat in my body go straight to my face because the guy in the music video was the guy I just met like ten minutes ago AND gave him a pink phone case as if I was a casual friend.

...

The rest of the way was horrible, I kept thinking how dumb I was because I knew who he was, I even recognized him when I first saw him, he also said his name.

I opened my apartment door still in awe at my stupidity, it felt like I had left my soul standing in that sidewalk. He was so kind and nice towards me.

“Wah, you’re really something, seriously” I said as I looked at myself in the mirror.

I changed into my comfortable clothes in order to study and do some editing but I ended up searching his name. It really was him, I feel like I will be part of those funny stories idols tell in variety shows.

After hours of loud music and trying really hard to concentrate I finally finished all my work and could just say goodbye to this cruel reality, yes, I was being dramatic but who cares, I pay my bills so I can overeact this little things.

A/N: So, first of all, I hope you enjoy this “scenario” and yes, there will be a continuation since it’s kind of a series/fic idk what to call it yet…

ALSO, very important, I try to be realistic when writing something, so, given that the characters are korean I wanted to showcase some sort of realness with the “wah” and other ‘slangs’ if you may. I am in no way trying to copy them, just give a more “real life” feel to it!!!

[its-moments-like-this]

My Blackness.  Is this self hate?

Prejudice against my own people

For the majority of my life, I have had to deal//struggle with what it means to be biracial. How it looks, and what it implies for my life in this country (USA.) A country that would much rather have me check a singular box (those of you who are also like me understand what I’m talking about.) Still have not figured that out yet, but I am learning daily.

Being raised by my single white mother, I never had a chance to experience my black culture aside from the R&B music she loved to listen to. It wasn’t until I was about the age of 5 or 6 that started to spend time with my black side of the family.

You can read a little more in-depth telling of my story and struggle with being biracial here.

For the longest time, I have had to fight to be seen as a person of color. That I do “belong at the table” so to speak… or rather that “I am invited to the cookout.” Because of this inward desire to be seen as who I am, I have long suppressed all self-reflection on my own biases and prejudices, because I can not be prejudiced against my own self or people... right?

Then everything happened this past summer with Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, and then George Floyd (as well as many others) unjustly losing their lives. Then Black Lives Matter taking to the streets in protest. I felt more than ever the need to post, spread awareness, and “educate” others. Yet, a part of me felt I had to do those things to (again) prove my black-ness (all the while subconsciously denying thoughts of myself having prejudices.) But as days went by these thoughts began to surface and stir in my mind as I read post after post and watched the news.

After months of wrestling with my thoughts and one long honest conversation with my then-girlfriend now fiancé, Micha, I have come to a realization. I am prejudiced against my own people. The causes and situations where it shows itself are not often or deliberate but happen all the same. I was so disappointed in myself and that had taken so long to come to grips with this reality.

Micha prompted the question on that same phone call as to why I think those prejudices exist in the first place. I thought for a bit and the first two conclusions came pretty quickly, childhood bullies and family harassment. The third, however, never came to mind before, but when it came into my head (which I can only attribute to God working) it completely clicked, I had “culture shock” trauma.

Childhood bullies came to my mind pretty easily as I had been bullied most of my time in grade school. While my oppressors came in various races and genders, I remember the cruelest, happened to almost always be of African American descent. They have become such permanent figures in my brain I can remember them each by name. I have always been an easy person to mess with. Despite my efforts to show indifference, it is always obvious when I am uncomfortable or hurting.

I remember during 6th grade, a kid named Deeshawn told me on the bus ride home from school, he was going to fight me when I got off the bus (for what reason I still don’t know) as the other kids cheered him on. I remember ashamedly running home from the bus stop praying I was fast enough to get inside the house to grab my BB gun as some means of protecting myself (I admit it was not a well-thought-out plan.)

Another time in 8th-grade gym class Marquis decided to make me his personal target of a dodgeball game, many hard hits to my gut, face, and crotch, my body not athletic enough to avoid his throws.

For almost my entire sophomore year a football player named Kameryn decided he would refer to me as “Flat Top” based on how one side of my head is a little misshapen, an effect of me being born prematurely. (While it was something I had gotten used to over the years, I was still self-conscious about it.) It took the help of my best friend and school faculty to get him to stop his torment.

In an effort to not go on for days, I will spare you accounts of every bully encounter. These situations isolated might not have resulted in too much, aside from your general childhood trauma. However, I’m convinced they have affected how I perceive anyone who marks a similar resemblance to them, in particular, black men.

To say my family life growing up was complex would be an understatement. While there are no doubt people who have had it rougher, I would still like to believe mine was not all rainbows and butterflies.

Switching from being an only child one week to being the middle child of six the next and as the sole biracial child took a toll in the early years. While my siblings and I did play, joke, and have fun, I was still vastly different from them and they made sure I knew that. I was constantly made fun of and beaten-up on by my older sister and two younger brothers. Sibling squabbles are a pretty normal concept for those who have siblings, it’s something you learn to grow with and even love. However, I was a softy when I was young (a mommas boy if you will) and I did not have a bone of violence in my body. Often coined the “good one” of the bunch. I also had an inability to defend myself well against my siblings which resulted in the aforementioned treatment. This had a negative effect on my mental health, for the most part unbeknownst to me until I reached adulthood.

Another big difference between my siblings and myself was our lifestyles. Each of my siblings at some point in their childhood grew up in less than favorable conditions whether it be living in the ghetto or off food stamps at least for a little bit. While I had not truly felt what it was to go without, if my mother was nothing else, she was a fighter. We were middle class and had a brief stint of needing government assistance but again I never felt the effects of that. 

Something else that only furthered the divide between my siblings and me was culture. Music, style, slang, and the like were worlds different from my own at the time of our meeting. One specific memory I will forever have is all six of us kids eating cereal at the table. Kevin commenting for me to “stop smacking.”  Initially, I did not even realize he was talking to me until he said it again with more force and demand. To which I just stared at him while chewing my cereal a little slower than before, completely confused as to what he meant. Only to have him finally yell moments later, “Stop chewing with your mouth open.” My immediate internal response being “Ooooh” and quickly shut my mouth. The language barrier is something that continued to stifle my relationships with my family until I eventually (slowly) caught on (something I now know as “code-switching.”)

The differences between my siblings and I could not be further apart. I was always the odd one out in every scenario because of that and I would be lying if I said I didn’t hold at least a little resentment. The lifestyle and culture they grew up in was just life for them so why would there be any conscious that I might not understand any of it, especially as kids. If the responsibility fell on anyone aside from myself, it should have been my father who helped me understand… but that is a conversation for another time.

Lastly is the issue of culture shock trauma. A lot of this has to do with my previous paragraph and how I grew up. Before the age of five, I don’t have many memories of my father, he was there in some capacity during the early years but I do not recall seeing him often enough. For a few years, the only “interaction” I remember having with him was when he would send me birthday or Christmas presents. Another being when my mother would put him on the phone to get me to behave (these phone interactions I now realize made me associate fear with his voice.) My mom and I moved from Ohio to Indiana in 2000 just before I was to start 1st grade. We moved to be closer to both sides of my family including my father himself. I remember the day my mom told me I would be spending some time with my dad and his new family, just recently remarried to wife #2 Shannon mother to Kevin (older), Keeshawn (younger), and Mercedez (younger.)

Probably an important thing to note, Kevin, Keesahwn, and I technically share no blood relation but because we have grown up together we consider ourselves no less than blood.  Of those three Mercedez and I share our father. Also while we are on it, my older sister Destiny and other younger brother Eric share our father but each has a different mother from myself or the other three aforementioned. #complex

I was thrown into staying with my father and his new family for what felt like years but in reality, was only for the summer. I remember that day so vividly. I remember they met us at a family member’s house. I got into my dad’s Ford Expedition, seeing Keeshawn directly in front of me with Mercedez in her car seat next to him and Kevin in the seat behind. I offered them some Skittles my mom had bought me just 30 minutes earlier at Lowe’s. I remember that summer how different everything about their lives was from my own and how I felt so entirely out of place. I remember how I was forced to eat everything on my plate before I could get up from the table or drink anything. I remember how I had a panic attack from losing a sock because I got anxious about losing anything of my own while I was there. I remember how I was not allowed to call my mom and how my dad would tell her to stop calling. I remember crying… a lot. I remember there was one night a month after being there my mom got to take me to a fair for the evening and we played games and ate super sugary fair food. Then the feeling of absolute dread when she told me I had to go back later that night. I begged and begged to stay with her. I remember as punishment for whenever we did something wrong we would have to do this T-pose thing where we keep our arms up and out for minutes (but felt like hours.) I remember whenever we were in public and misbehaved we got a hard swat to the back of our hand. I remember learning all the slang my siblings spoke and feeling so scared and confused when I did not understand what was being said around or to me. I remember going to our all-black southern baptist church being the only, not entirely black person there. I remember how we would often go without breakfast and sometimes lunch. I remember being in a perpetual state of grief because Shannon seemed so mean and angry all the time. I remember how my Dad forced us to call Shannon “Mom” and how much of a gut punch it was because I disliked Shannon a lot, and equating her to someone I loved so dearly felt wrong. I remember how I never actually got to spend one on one time with my father ever. I remember how for the most part during a lot of this my father was not ever around. I remember Kevin acting viscerally toward us because he was always forced to babysit us younger kids. I remember how I never wanted to be there and always wanted to go home when I was. I remember how I felt like I would never actually belong there and no one told me otherwise.

All of these differences are cultural but drastic compared to what I was familiar with, with just my mother. I was thrown into them without hesitation or a moment to acclimate. I went from being raised as an only child by a single white woman to the aforementioned being my life for the rest of that summer then rotating weekends and following summers until I was 18. I can only define these experiences as culture shock trauma. However, if I have missed the mark and that is not a depiction of culture shock trauma I am genuinely not sure what is.

Now, all of those experiences might sound grim and maybe even abusive but, I would boil it down to simple cultural differences. The eating all the food thing comes from Shannon (rightfully so) not wanting to make another meal for me or my brother’s picky asses when she spent an hour or more on the one in front of us. The whole drink thing because if we drank a bunch before eating we would think we were “full” and would not eat. The T-pose because let’s be honest the belt would have been far worse and she was saving us haha. Shannon was not necessarily mean she was just tough, because black women have to be, and dealing with three, four, five, or six kids (depending on which combo of us were there) is exhausting to do on your own so patience was thin - a true expression of tough love. And while time with my siblings was rough it was not all bad. Some of the other stuff was just reality, outside of everyone’s control and not anyone’s fault. Now the stuff involving my dad was not and is still not okay and I’m dealing with that.

All of these things affected my young and growing mind and I assume warped for better or worse my outlook on life and black folks. In more ways than one these things traumatized me.  They took the base of what I had grown to know and understand and flipped it upside down for better or worse. But now I am forced to question myself whenever I tense up as a group of black men or teens pass me by. Whenever I’m in the “not so nice” part of town why do I lock my car doors if someone is strolling by my car without thinking. Why do I look over my shoulder when walking down the street in the evening as I hear the boom of the bass coming from a strolling vehicle. Why do I get nervous and skittish if a black stranger approaches me on the street?

My journey in understanding myself (and my people) and ultimately loving myself (and my people) as I am (as they are) still has a long way to go. Considering I’m only uncovering these prejudicial truths at the age of 25 and why I have them in the first place, it is safe to say I have work I must continue to do for myself. But I’m optimistic for the future and everything it holds.

PS - - I am sure my outlooks and conclusions are far form perfect and in some areas miss the mark. If you think so please let me know, but please do so in the mindset that I am working to face my prejudices head on, I am in no way denying they exist. Be honest and blunt, but be gentle.

[lizzizzie-blog]

d) all of the above

Today is a the anniversary of a significant event in my life. I am resultingly (I might have made this word up but I’m sticking with it) emotional, and instead of baking cookies or wrapping presents or taking a shower or doing laundry or actually getting caught up with my work-work, I am feeling my feelings and I’ve been reflecting on what has been an incredibly intense year. 

Things that happened in 2017:

In the last few days of 2016, I fell in love so hard with a TV show about Norwegian teens. I’ve made friends as a result who I talk to regularly and are super important to me. I’ve taken two trips to meet them (Boston and Philly) and I’ve planned my first real international trip/vacation (Oslo, Norway, January 2018) as a result. Honestly, nobody saw this one coming. 

January: I officially started my new job that it turns out is really really hard and stressful and exhilarating and kicks my ass. I mostly work from home (an adjustment in itself) but also travel frequently. This year I’ve been to: Monroe, Louisiana; Louisville, Kentucky; Atlanta and Newnan, Georgia; Selma, Alabama; Bay City, Texas; Austin, Texas; New York City; Freehold, New Jersey; Milwaukee, Wisconsin; and Las Vegas - some more than once.

In February, I experienced hot springs for the first time in Colorado for my sister-in-law-to-be’s bachelorette party.  

In March, I turned 30. My husband and friends threw a perfect, stupid, fun, whimsical, casual party for me and I felt so lucky. There were Harry Potter puns. There were buttons with my bitmoji on them. There was a dinosaur beer luge ice sculpture and many delicious beers. I got to play and dance to “I Feel It Coming” twice.

In April, I officiated the wedding ceremony of my brother and the aforementioned sister-in-law, in Maryland.

In May, the husband quit his job and we bought a record store. I mean, what?! What!!!

In June, the husband almost cut off his fingers in a hedge trimmers vs. hand incident, resulting in us missing another wedding. That was fun

In July, I married another of my best friends as a co-officiant with another of our best friends, in Michigan.

In August, I saw the total solar eclipse in St. Louis! It was the coolest, spookiest, most amazing thing. Bizarrely moving. During that trip, I also:

Met and held and loved on the baby of someone I grew up with/a childhood bestie, for the first time. Wow. 

Felt a fetus kick inside of a human tummy for the first time ever, and it happened to be my very best friend. A small moment of magic.

In August, I got a tattoo. My first. Possibly only. I’m not sure.

In October, I told myself, and then my husband, and then the internet / People of Facebook, that I’m pansexual, because it’s not a secret. And I was met with all the both incredible support and curious and/or confused questions that people who do that sort of thing are met with. This has been bizarre. 

A few times, I wrote things about myself and published them in a blog and told actual people I know about it. This one is still a struggle too. 

And that’s not an exhaustive list. Plenty of other significant and joyful moments happened with other people I love, as well, including 30th birthday parties and pregnancy announcements and engagements and even a anniversary / birthday / retirement party for the in-laws. I also learned that another of our couple-friends are getting a divorce. The point is... it’s been SO much of significance in so little time. I’ve never been so stressed and scared and tired, but I’ve also never been so thrilled and inspired and in love with other people. I’ve never felt more overwhelmed with life, but I’ve also never been this accepting of myself. It’s been a lot. It’s still a lot. It always is. When I was little, I think I thought that joy and love were the antidote to grief and pain. Or that sadness and stress negated happiness and laughter and light. That these things were mutually exclusive. Now, I’m still constantly struck by how MUCH life is. How many different things I feel during any given year, month, week, day, or moment. But when I reflect, I think I actually learned this early. Joy and pain don’t cancel each other out; they complement and amplify each other. They make each other real, and the reality of life is that we will experience both, and feeling one doesn’t invalidate feeling the other.   I learned this in October of my senior year of high school when I was having the time of my life with my friends in band, dance team, show choir, and the senior play, and then my cousin died, out of nowhere. It was awful and I was confused and angry and devastated, but life didn’t stop. It didn’t stop me loving my friends or having fun in my various activities or falling in love with a boy over the next several months. It was all of that, all at once. It affected me profoundly, every day, but life didn’t stop. My junior year of college, a friend of mine had a really intense health scare that involved passing out followed by emergency surgery, and eventual diagnosis with a genetic disorder that made it very dangerous to operate on her and would mean precarious health going forward. She was my “Partner,” as we were co-Morale-Captains of the Red team for our college’s Dance Marathon event in April, which raised money for Children’s Miracle Network. Planning and organizing for the event began with weekly meetings in the fall, and this committee was incredibly close knit, with Partners put together and assigned colors based on specific shared traits. So, this happened in February, the night before my boyfriend’s birthday. We found out during our weekly meeting, and we left to go to her apartment, where all her sorority sisters were, and essentially held vigil until the surgery was over. It was days before we really knew if she was going to be okay, including Valentine’s Day. I ate a Dove chocolate heart with the message “discover how much your heart can hold.” And that resonated with me so much. I was feeling so much. I kept the wrapper. Taped it to a piece of index card. I still carry it in my wallet. I turned 21 in March, while she was home recovering. I was so sad to be without my Partner on the committee and so worried about her. She, somewhat miraculously, did get to come to Dance Marathon, in her wheelchair. I was so happy she was there. It was such a relief. She got better, and graduated and got a job and got married and bought a house and got a dog. Then, years later, she had another complication, and after multiple attempts to save her, she died. This was a week after my wedding and the day after we got home from our honeymoon. It was horrible, of course, and right in the middle of one of the most loving and joyous times in my life. Again, it was all happening at once. More than I thought my heart could hold. (She was one of the funniest people I’ve ever known. Her humor was clever and quick and biting. So charismatic. Her attention made you feel special and people adored her.) To conclude this meandering, self-involved mess, I need to flash back again. To my senior year of college, fall semester 2008. Dance Marathon had finished the previous spring, and I’d tried out to be my college’s mascot, and gotten it. It was amazing. But it was a secret. Part of our tradition was that nobody is supposed to know who the humans inside the costume were. And so naturally that leads to much speculation about who they are, and we had to be careful to avoid being found out. I was dating a person who’d been the mascot the year before, and we didn’t have any reason to know each other in real life, so we were dating in secret, essentially, as well.

He happened to be best friends with a girl from my hometown, who I’d been friends with in high school, who also went to our college. She’d graduated that spring and was in Cincinnati for her master’s. She invited us down to see her perform in a play for the church she’d joined there - serious production value - 9 years ago today. We were going to stay with her for the weekend, too. At the play, she was flying around suspended on a harness high up in the air for her role as a wise man. Maybe 20 minutes in, at the end of a song, she struck a pose, her hardness malfunctioned, and she fell to the floor. I don’t remember much of what happened next, but our seats were very high up and we could not see at all what was happening. Somehow they stopped and everyone filed out and they called an ambulance. Somehow her friends found us and we got to the hospital with them. We waited hours. Eventually her parents arrived, met with doctors, and asked us to leave. We drove all the way back to our college town and crashed. A few hours later, her friend called my boyfriend, waking us up, to tell her they had removed her from life support and she had died. It was, of course, traumatic, tragic, and devastating. It was such a bizarre time. So hard, and so painful. Some of my worst days ever. But at the same time, set during the backdrop what was objectively the time of my life. I was a senior in college and I was the mascot. Literally living a dream of mine, having an absolute blast. Then this, in the middle of finals …  having to tell my professors what had happened and why I needed extra time. I skipped my only mascot event the night of the day we found out she died.

After that, mascotting became an escape from it. A place where I could go for a few hours and forget my shit. I could focus on entertaining others, on nothing but being an anonymous vessel of enthusiasm and joy and love, on the eventual physical exhaustion of it. A way to clear my head. And then Christmas was happening, and right back to the next semester. Life didn’t slow down. It was everything at once. Horrific and traumatic and devastating, but the love I experienced in speaking with other people who knew her after she died, of meeting people she knew who looked up to her the same way that I did, the joy of living my dream and escaping reality as the mascot, the way my boyfriend and I somehow got each other through that time ... all of it was real and valid and happening, too. Looking back on that time 9 years ago, I don’t know how I survived. But, that’s sort of what we always do, isn’t it? We love the shit out of each other and we get by. And the weird thing is, December and the holidays are still the same now… the circumstances are ever-changing, of course, but there’s always the painful melancholy of missing people that you love, coupled with the stress of it all, then combined with so much warmth and comfort. It’s a lot. It’s all of it at once. And we’re doing it together. Life is rich, y’all. <3

“So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I'm still trying to figure out how that could be.”  ― The Perks of Being a Wallflower

[mrlnsfrt]

Funny how God works

Podcast: The intro music is a special contribution by Music For Podcasts by Lee Rosevere (http://freemusicarchive.org/music/Lee_Rosevere/)

Blog post available at PrMarlon.com

Twenty-four years after he arrived and Canaan (Genesis 12:4) and thirteen years after the birth of Ishmael (Genesis 16:16), Abram still does not have a son with Sarai.

'El Shaddai

God introduces Himself as 'El Shaddai, Almighty God. It is interesting that the places in Genesis where the name Shaddai appears are in the context of birth, blessings and fertility (Genesis 17:1; 28:3; 35:11; 43:14; 48:3; 49:25). Moses mentions this in Exodus 6:3 giving us the idea that God had appeared to the patriarchs as 'El Shaddai, the God of promise, while now in the time of fulfillment of the promise He has made Himself known as YHWH, the God of history. (Doukhan, Jacques. Genesis. Nampa, ID, Pacific Press Publishing Association, 2016. p236)

Another interesting fact about the name 'El Shaddai is that it appears very often in the book of Job (31 times!) as compared to the rest of the Old Testament (17 times). Even though in the book of Job the denominative 'El is missing, meaning Almighty, as opposed to God Almighty, which for all practical reasons still mean the same thing. I mention this detail because it supports a connection of this name/tittle of God with a theology of hope in a state of hopelessness, a longing for God to fulfill His promise. (ibid.)

Walk before Me and be blameless.

When God tells Abram to walk before Him the verb used is the same used in Genesis 12:1 when God calls Abram to "go" (get out) from his country, family etc. Even though the verb used here (Genesis 17:1) is the same as the one used when God first called Abram (Genesis 12:1) the verb form is different. The verb "halak" can be translated as "go" or "walk" (or traverse, bring, carry, lead, etc. depending on the form), and the form used on Genesis 17 is the same as the one used with reference to Enoch (Genesis 5:24) and Noah (Genesis 6:9) who are both described as having "walked with God." Genesis 17:1 is similar to Genesis 6:9 because both passages also have the word "tamiym" (perfect, blameless, complete, undefiled, etc.).

Noah, like Enoch, walks "with God," however Abram is told to "walk before" God. With Enoch and Noah we have the mental picture of God walking by their side, while with Abram we imagine the invisible God behind him, like a shepherd guiding his sheep (Genesis 48:15).

The Covenant

God makes a promise to Abram using language that echoes the promise made in Genesis 15:1 (i.e. multiply, exceedingly), upon hearing this Abram falls on his face as a physical expression of profound reverence before God. The promise God makes to Abram refers to the future, God will make him exceedingly fruitful, and God changes his name to indicate this.

No longer shall your name be called Abram, but your name shall be Abraham; for I have made you a father of many nations. ~ God (Genesis 17:5)

According to Dr. Doukhan, the promise expands into a covenant that has stylistic connections to the first messianic prophecy (Genesis 3:15) suggesting that the covenant with Abram concerns more than a promise of numerous offspring, it includes a spiritual promise of salvation for all the peoples of the world. (ibid.)

Circumcision

There is a lot that has been written about circumcision. I do not want to go too deeply into this topic so I will summarize my personal understanding of it.

Circumcision was not invented at this point, it already existed in the Ancient Near East ( in Egypt, and among the Canaanites, and Arabs). Here God gives circumcision a new meaning and the text suggests some connection to the sacrificial system and even the Passover. 

However, what I wish to highlight is that whenever an Israelite circumcised a child it reflected the parents' faith in God's promise, as well as a commitment to partner with God in effecting His plan of salvation for the world. Meaning, they believed that one day the Messiah would be born! The circumcision reminded them that the Savior would be born from among them. Childbearing was not about just numbers but about a mission, a partnership with God to bless the world.

About Sarai

Abraham received a new name, he had an "h" added to his name, but he is not the only one who is getting a new name, Sarai also gets an "h" added to her name.

As for Sarai your wife, you shall not call her name Sarai, but Sarah shall be her name. ~God (Genesis 17:15b)

Abraham was not ready for Sarah to play a key role in God's promise. Personally I see Abraham struggling with the value God places on his wife. Abraham seems willing to let his wife be taken by the Pharaoh, (Genesis 12:10-20), and even Sarah fails to fully grasp God's plan when she offers her maidservant to Abraham as a wife (Genesis 16:2-3). 

God valued Sarah and her marriage to Abraham's then they realized. All of God's promises were made with Abraham and Sarah in mind, neither one was more important than the other, both were needed for God's plan, both were extremely valuable. Many today still fail to fully grasp the sacredness of marriage, if only we could see it as God sees it.

Abraham Laughed

Upon hearing God's promise regarding Sarah Abraham fell on his face again, but this time he laughed. This is the very first record of laughter in the Holy Scriptures. The meaning of Abraham's laughter is not indicated, but given the context it could be an indication of skepticism on Abraham's part.

Personal Application

Has God ever surprised you with a turn of events? When God acts there is usually a sense of wonder, and even skepticism on our part. How often we doubt God's power, His love, His claims, His plans? How often are we tempted to laugh at what God intends to do in our lives?

When you realize that God wants to use you to impact those around you for His kingdom, does it make you want to laugh? Do you have a hard time believing God's plan for your life? Do you struggle with what God is calling you to do?

Clarification

Abraham laughed and needed to clarify things with God. Apparently he was not ready to take in what God had just presented to him.

And Abraham said to God, “Oh, that Ishmael might live before You!” (Genesis 17:18)

Have we read something similar earlier?

But Abram said, “Lord God, what will You give me, seeing I go childless, and the heir of my house is Eliezer of Damascus?” Then Abram said, “Look, You have given me no offspring; indeed one born in my house is my heir!” (Genesis 15:2-3)

When our faith is weak we reinterpret God's word to fit with our worldview, our understanding of reality, our understanding of what God can and cannot do. Unwittingly, perhaps, we change God's word to fit our preconceived notion of who God is. We must be extremely careful not to interpret the Bible, especially God's promises, in light of our limitations, or the limitation of our faith and understanding.

Application

And Jesus came and spoke to them, saying, “All authority has been given to Me in heaven and on earth. Go therefore and make disciples of all the nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all things that I have commanded you; and lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age.” Amen  ~Jesus (Matthew 28:18-20  emphasis mine)

The great commission is for all of Christ's followers. How it applies to your life depends on your spiritual gifts and your specific circumstance, but no one is exempt from Jesus' command to make disciples.

Do you know what God is calling you to do?

Or a better way to phrase that same question is

Do you know how God is calling you to make disciples?

Because if you believe in Jesus and have accepted Him as Lord and Savior then He is calling you to make disciples.

The only remaining question becomes how will you make disciples? And that is for you to figure out, between you and God.

Pray about it, make some lists.

What are your gifts?

What do you enjoy doing?

What have you done in the past?

What can you see yourself doing in the near future?

Start praying about it, make yourself available to God, and try not to laugh when God shares His plan for you with you.

Follow-Through

So Abraham took Ishmael his son, all who were born in his house and all who were bought with his money, every male among the men of Abraham’s house, and circumcised the flesh of their foreskins that very same day, as God had said to him. (Genesis 17:23)

Abraham may have been skeptical, he may have laughed regarding God's plans, but Abraham followed through immediately. Doing his part Abraham left the rest of it in God's hands.

Whatever way God is calling you to make disciples for Him, do your part, start now, and leave the results to Him. Your faith may be weak, you may feel like laughing at the possibility of what God has promised, but do your part and leave the rest to Him. It is his plan after all, and it can only be accomplished by His might. The more unlikely the outcome, the more glory God receives when His plan does come through.

So I invite you to partner with God.

Do your part.

And watch God do His.

[actuallylorelaigilmore]

If We Only Tried, Chapter 2: You Might Really See Me

Finally returning to this Luke x Lorelai fic thanks to a special request by @actuallylukedanes. Happy birthday!! 

Summary: Spring cleaning and reminiscing, with a touch of mutual ogling. There were some things you just didn’t do with your close male friends, and getting trapped alone together without a change of clothes and then letting them use your shower was now officially on that list.

Crossposted on AO3, more notes there.

“Okay, what do you want to watch?”

Luke’s blank stare was priceless. “Whatever you want to watch is fine.”

“Come on, you’re not in the mood for anything specific?”

“No musicals.”

“Deal. But I mean really, Luke. We’ve got, like, all the movies. Cheesy, sappy, fight-y...pick your poison.”

He sighed. “Okay, suspense.”

“Ooh!” Lorelai’s face lit up. “Nice. Rory never goes for suspense first. Let’s see...”

She turned away to dig through a pile of DVDs until she pulled one out triumphantly. “Rear Window. What do you say?”

“Sounds good.”

“Okay.” She handed him the DVD. “Put this in, would you? I’ll get the popcorn.”

She disappeared while he shouted after her, facing the TV. “Popcorn? What popcorn? We searched your entire kitchen yesterday and there was no popcorn there.”

Offering him a grin, Lorelai returned, snacks in hand. “No, you’re right, there’s not. But I do have some, I forgot until just now. It was in my underwear drawer."

“Why was it in--” Luke held up his hands. “Don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.”

“Yeah, and look on the bright side. Now it can be lunch and we’ll have the choice of pizza or burgers for dinner.”

“Yum.” He looked queasy, and she felt the briefest pang of guilt for not being the kind of person who stocked salad. Then she brushed it off, because who would eat the salad on all the normal days when Luke wasn’t trapped in her house with her?

After coaching him on the movie night rules, and pouting when he blatantly broke all of them, Lorelai settled in. It was weird watching a movie with Luke, Taciturn Guy--but also fun.

When he did have a comment, it was usually perceptive, with a heavy dose of snark. And then she would have to argue against his point, which made watching the movie take longer, but it was worth it to see him get all flustered.

She enjoyed him flustered.

“I still say it doesn’t make any sense,” Luke protested over the rolling credits. “First things first, if you think a guy is a murderer, you don’t just let him--”

“Yeah, yeah,” Lorelai cut him off as she left the couch. “I get it already. The psychological thriller isn’t perfectly logical. It’s a movie, Luke. It’s allowed to be a little ridiculous.”

“Not if it wants me to take it seriously.”

“Grump.”

“Hey, you asked.”

“Actually I didn’t,” she replied over her shoulder, foraging in the kitchen for more crackers. Hungry enough, they weren’t so bad.

“You invited my opinion when you wouldn’t shut up about yours,” he argued.

“Well, mine is right.”

Luke rolled his eyes. “Uh-huh.”

“Anyway, what do you want to do now?” She stared out the kitchen window at the heaps of snow and shook her head. “It’s barely lunchtime.”

“Honestly, I’d like to start putting this place back together. All your piles of crap are giving me nightmares of you dead underneath them.”

“What do you mean?” She frowned at the table, covered in old dishes and infomercial cookery that she’d bought when Rory was little and never bothered to use again. “You want to help me spring clean?”

“Well, ‘want to’ might be overstating it a little. I want something to do, and I desperately want your house not to look like this anymore.” He waved a hand at the debris. “So, yeah, I guess.”

Snacking, she weighed the privacy violation of him sifting through her stuff against the benefits of it actually getting done, and didn’t have to think for long. After all, Luke was already in the middle of her life. What didn’t he know that could surprise him among her junk drawers?

“Okay, let’s do it. We can start here,” she decided. “The kitchen will be easy since it’s not very sentimental.”

“Really.” Luke didn’t sound convinced. “Not this set of baby spoons? Or the duck-shaped measuring cups?”

“Oh, well, those stay. Obviously.” She shot him a grin.

“See? Everything is sentimental with you.” He sighed and prepared to dive into battle over every chipped plate.

****

“Oh, Luke, look!” Lorelai pulled a sheet of blue poster-board out of the closet and handed it to him. “Isn’t it great?”

“It’s...something.” He peered at the careful lettering until he understood it. “Oh, hey, I know what this is.”

“Rory’s class project.” Lorelai sat on the floor next to the closet, and took it back from him to study. “How she agonized over this. Everything had to be just right. The marker color, the letter spacing, the straightness of the lines.”

He grinned. “Well, that’s Rory.”

“Yeah, but she was twelve!” Lorelai met his fond smile with her own. “And then she nearly had a breakdown in the last few weeks when she couldn’t get half the information she needed.”

“Yeah,” Luke said thoughtfully. “I remember.”

Surprised, Lorelai dragged her eyes away from the project. “You do?”

“Mm-hmm. She needed her dad’s side of the family tree and couldn’t get ahold of him. I never heard how you finally found him, by the way. She told me about the A she got on the project afterwards, that was it. What happened there?”

“Christopher,” Lorelai said simply, as though the name alone was an explanation.

“He’d dropped off the map again--he does that,” she pointed out. “Back then, we’d only just moved to Stars Hollow...we’d been living in Hartford, he’d visited us there, but not here. His number was disconnected. So we couldn’t expect to hear from him, we couldn’t go to him, and her assignment was to interview that side of her family just like mine.”

He leaned over to turn the family tree back around and appreciate how tidy--and complete--it was. “So, what did you do?”

“I went over his head.” Her smile was fierce, if a little brittle around the edges. “I went to my mother, who used her connections to get his parents’ information stretching way back. It was just easier.”

He knew how strained her relationship was with her parents in those days, and how nonexistent one was with Rory’s other grandparents. But he also knew it remained a raw wound in some ways, so he nodded as though the story were that simple. “That makes sense.”

Setting the paper aside, Lorelai smiled at him. “I can’t believe you remember that, though. What was it, seven years ago? And you barely knew Rory.”

“Maybe,” he replied easily. “But she made an impression. Just like her mother.”

Lorelai looked away. “Oh, now.”

“I mean it.” He wasn’t smirking anymore. “It was obvious as soon as you moved here, what a great kid Rory was, and what a great mom you had to be to make that happen.”

“No, Rory came out that way,” Lorelai argued. “I barely did a thing there.”

“Stop selling yourself short. Just imagine if Christopher had raised her,” he offered. “Or your mother.”

“Oh, god.” She grimaced. “I’m honestly not sure which picture is worse.” Visions of her little girl dying in a motorcycle crash or marrying a Stanford man at nineteen flashed before her eyes and made her shudder.

“See?”

“Yeah.” She accepted the implied compliment reluctantly. “Thanks, Luke.”

“Always happy to reintroduce reality to your world. Or try, anyway.” He blinked and looked past her to the stack of books at her side. “So how will you decide which of these to get rid of?”

“Oh, those stay.”

“All of them?”

“Yep.”

“You can’t possibly know that they all need to stay.”

“Why not?”

“You haven’t even looked at them.”

“Well, that’s the classics section. Celebrity memoirs, books on movies, kitschy books to put on the coffee table and dust off regularly. Every house needs those.”

“Okay, but when was the last time you read them?”

She quirked her lips at him, not answering, and that was all the answer he needed. “You have to get rid of some of these. Keep the books you actually use.”

Lorelai waved a hand. “Oh, don’t worry about it. I’ve got like twenty gardening books lying around here. We’ll get rid of all of those and call it even.”

“It doesn’t work that way.” He tried to rein in his exasperation. “You’re supposed to be decluttering. Which equals caring about what you use and don’t--not your relative amount of stuff.”

“Whoa, when did you become the Martha Stewart of home organization?” Lorelai poked him in the arm. “It’s fine if I don’t get rid of every useless thing I own. Let’s face it, that’s like eighty percent of what I own!”

“Fine.” On that, they could agree. “But if you’re not really going through your books, I’m going to leave you to it. Mind if I use your shower? That kitchen cabinet adventure was disgusting.”

“I had no idea the one under the sink was growing alien life!” She protested. “But yeah, go for it. I’ll be here.”

Flipping through a book about the Beatles that she was pretty sure she’d read to Rory as a baby, Lorelai realized that she’d forgotten to tell Luke where the towels were just as he was already in the shower. “Oh, crap.”

Also, whose clothes was he getting into after he cleaned himself up?

She headed upstairs, trying to be extra loud as a warning, before recognizing that the sound of the running water would mask her no matter what she did.

Lorelai knocked on her own bathroom door, feeling miserably awkward. There were some things you just didn’t do with your close male friends, and getting trapped alone together without a change of clothes and then letting them use your shower was now officially on that list.

“Hey, Luke?”

There was a pause, as though he wasn’t sure how to respond, any more than she was. “Yeah, hey.”

“Do you need something to wear? Or, I don’t know, a towel?”

“Found a towel,” he told her, his voice sounding strange through the door. “Hall closet. You think I don’t know where you keep stuff? I’ve fixed every part of your house, Lorelai.”

“Oh. Right.” Idiotic of her. “What about clothes?”

“I’m just going to get back in the ones I was wearing. It’s no big deal.”

“It’s a very big deal,” she told him as she heard the water turn off. “The ones you were wearing came through the snowstorm, and then survived bio-warfare in my kitchen. I can find you something else.”

She could almost hear his frown, but he agreed more quickly than she expected. “Yeah, okay. I guess that would be good.”

“Good.” Triumphant, she thought it over. Best chance of success, her stash of ex-boyfriend clothes. Something of Max’s might fit him. “I’ll be right back. Then we can wash yours.”

“Even better.” He knew exactly where she’d be looking for clothes that would fit him. He didn’t have to like it, but it was practical for the moment.

She was back in two minutes, not having much to choose from, prepared to shove the clothes through a crack in the door and avert her eyes. Luke exited the bathroom before she got the chance.

“Thanks,” he said, taking the clothes and giving them a once-over before stepping back inside the bathroom--with nothing but a towel draped low around his waist, still damp all over from the shower.

When he shut the door behind himself again, Lorelai slumped against the wall to fan herself. Wow. Just...wow. That was what was hiding under those flannel shirts all this time?

I mean, sure, she knew he cleaned up nice, but that was compared to his usual baseball cap-burger flipping style. This was a whole new kind of surprise.

What other surprises was Luke hiding?

****

“Next room?” Luke asked once he was done dressing, damp hair curling behind his ears in a way that made her stare just a little too long.

“Lorelai?”

“Sorry.” She smiled, and with a shake of her head, came back to earth. “You really want to dive back into my mess?”

“Sure. Let’s just aim for a less toxic room this time.” He shrugged at her expression. “What else have we got to do except clean and watch movies all day? Unlike you, I’m not used to sitting on my butt for hours watching fake people live their lives.”

“My god, Luke, so dramatic.” Lorelai led the way to her bedroom, then grinned when she realized he was no longer with her and turned to find him hesitating outside the doorway. “You can cross the threshold. I promise, no garlic or crosses to be found here.”

“So I’m a vampire now?” His familiar scowl returned, but he followed her in.

“Well, I wasn’t sure. Why else would you be standing outside like you needed an invitation?” She sat on the only empty corner of her bed and surveyed the space where she’d successfully pulled out half of all her clothes to sort and downsize them.

“Jeez, this is a mess,” Luke said, evading the question. “How much of this stuff do you even wear?”

“Dunno.” Lorelai beamed up at him, pulling a random shirt off the nearest pile. “But does that really matter when the clothes are as awesome as this?”

“It’s got a tongue on it.”

“It’s vintage.”

“It’s old and it has a tongue on it. There is no way you will ever wear that again.”

“Oh, yeah?” Lorelai reached up and began taking off her long-sleeve shirt.

“Hey--” He started to panic before realizing that she was wearing a tank top underneath. She tugged the t-shirt down, beaming triumphantly. Luke’s mouth went dry, despite how hideous the shirt was. It barely fit, clinging tightly to all of Lorelai’s curves.

“What? Look, I’m wearing it.” She crossed her arms, eyes smirking, waiting for his argument, but it didn’t come.

“Yeah.” He swallowed hard. “Yeah, you are.”

“Nothing?” She tilted her head curiously. “Nothing about the tongue, or the frayed seams, or how I’m too old for t-shirts?”

Luke shut his reaction down hard and fast, knowing how perceptive she was when she focused. “Nope. Who am I to judge your fashion choices, anyway?”

Delight spread over her face--not the response he was expecting. He watched it happen, bemused.

“What a great idea! You are exactly the person who should judge my fashion choices!” She nudged him toward the bed, getting him to sit with a gentle shove.

“Huh?”

“New game.” She removed the t-shirt, Luke watching as it landed on the floor, then grabbed a pile of clothes from her closet floor and dumped them at his feet. “I have to sort through all my clothes, right? Decide what to keep, what to toss. Well, how better to utilize your willingness to help than with the always-in-style fashion show?”

“Fashion show.” He wasn’t sure whether to be amused or scared. You never knew with Lorelai.

“Yeah.” She became more excited about the idea the more she thought about it. “It’ll be way more fun than just sorting and piling to infinity, and it’ll give you a real role in the process. Since we both know all you can really do is make comments I’ll ignore anyway, at least this way, I’m giving you a chance to justify them.”

“This is bizarre.”

“Is that a vote against?”

Resigned, Luke shook his head. “No. Just an observation.”

“Great!” She grabbed a handful of items from the top of the pile and headed for her bathroom. “Stay right there. I’ll be right back to strut the catwalk.”

The terrible French accent she added to her words made him chuckle and remember the fashion show she’d walked in with her mother a few years back. He was still grinning at the memory of that when she came back in, wearing a pair of low-rise black jeans, a blue sequined top, and a pink sweater with feathers along the neckline.

She jutted out one hip. “Well, what do you think?”

“First of all, ow--my eyes.” He grimaced, and she frowned.

“No reason to be mean, you know.”

“Not mean. Honest. That sweater looks like a Valentine’s Day goose was killed for the sake of a very poor life choice. And sequins make anybody look like they should be in Vegas.”

“Fine.” She took off the sweater, apparently indifferent to its fate, and let it join the vintage tee. “What about the jeans?”

Without the sweater, some of her stomach was left exposed between the sequined shirt and the jeans. No part of him could honestly protest that.

“Uh, they’re good. The jeans are fine.”

“Huh. Cool. Thanks.” Pleasantly surprised, Lorelai selected her next offerings and offered him a grin. “Okay, gimme a sec.”

She practically skipped off, delighted by their new pastime, completely oblivious to Luke's realization that he'd just set himself up for an afternoon of slow torture in the form of bare skin and clinging fabric.

“No problem,” he said to the empty room. “I’ll be right here.”

[douchebagbrainwaves]

NOT ANY MORE

Benchmarks are simulated users. If I'm right, then it really pays to keep a company going in lieu of unburdening success isn't free; it is siphoned from the founders themselves. But that means each partner ends up being done by people who are neither rich nor poor, but originally they were a single person—the workers and manager would each share only one person's worth of freedom between them. And I found the best way to get rich by creating wealth has been turned on and off the prospect of an actual job was on the line. We've even had a twin study: West Germany, on; East Germany, off. So if you're an outsider, take advantage of your ability to make something users would like better? But a programmer deciding between a regular job at a big company. More important, I think you have to operate on ridiculously incomplete information. We get all the paperwork set up properly or you're just launching projectiles. A friend of mine who is a quite successful doctor complains constantly about her job.

And later stage investors? But lately I've been learning more about how hard it was to launch with the simplest possible thing. So it turns out to be another intellectual hangover of long forgotten origins. Because I didn't realize I would spend almost every waking moment either working or thinking about our startup. Usually from some specific, unsolved problem the founders identified. The general atmos is vaguely utopian; there are walls of varying heights between different kinds of questions. When we talk about unequal distribution of income, we should also ask, where does that income come from? Wearing suits, we're told, will make us 3. In reality, bugs like ours get through all the time. So I bought it, but you'll know they're something that ought to exist. That's why the business world was so surprised by one lesson from open source is not about Linux or Firefox, but about whom they feel some misgivings personally. When you can write substantial chunks this way.

What were we going to do in an essay. The very idea is foreign to what most of us learn as kids. I admit there seem to be advancing rapidly, most investors will leave you alone. Web devices proliferate. It can take years to learn how companies work. Figure out what? What was special about Brian Chesky and Joe Gebbia was not that they lack balls, but that the people pretending to be eminent do it by pretending to be eminent do it by pretending to be eminent do it by getting bought. You get paid by doing or making something people want. One advantage of Y Combinator's early, broad focus is that we see trends before most other people.

But that means each partner ends up being responsible for investing a lot of cruft over the years. It's possible to buy expensive solutions, even when cheap solutions are better, because the main value of that initial version is not the optimal time to do it is to an ordinary university what suburbia is to a city. When you release software gradually you get far fewer bugs than desktop software. For example, rising up through the hierarchy of the average value of 22 year olds, or someone with connections in the movie business hasn't seen their revenues decline the way the print media are boring. But only if he mastered a new kind of writing draws readers away from traditional media, we should also ask, where does that income come from? They get away with maltreating developers, in the sense of its origins and its semantic core. You're thinking out loud.

If you understand how to operate a steam catapult, at least in the US, seems to have been burned by not doing it: Build the absolute smallest thing that can be cultivated. Good VCs are smart money, but also as a way to make them? Some people like certain kinds of work. But if it were an axiom that this would be bad. If you're curious about something, trust your instincts. And yet all those people the eminent have working for them; they have to be to dominate railroads or hotels or newspapers. For products of nature that might work. In 1980, it works even less now that software development has evolved from a small number of expensive ones. Einstein's theory of relativity offended many contemporary physicists, and was shocked to discover, among many other regulations, that you are doing a lot of developers feel this way: One emotion is I'm not really proud about what's in the App Store is an ongoing karma leak.

If there was a machine on my desk that spat out a dollar bill every two minutes no matter what. Larry Page may seem to have an increasingly prosperous society without increasing variation in income, as Occam's Razor implies, is the same they face in operating systems: they can't do product development. The most important sort of disobedience shows signs of becoming rampant. Which means people with a desire to improve the world have a natural advantage. Even if your startup succeeds, it will take over your life for a long time: for several years at the very least I must have explained something badly. If they get confused or bored, they won't. And yet the Mona Lisa, you'll probably fail. Why bother? The other reason no one was doing quite what we do is useful, why wasn't anyone doing it before? The melon seed model is that the more willful you are, the more risk you can stand, and the larger the organization, the more risk you should take the riskiest investments you can find and fix most bugs as soon as they're discovered. The worst problem was that they didn't take programming seriously enough.

When friends came back from faraway places, it wasn't just out of politeness that I asked what they were selling, and the content was irrelevant. They would call support in a spirit more of triumph than anger, as if there was a machine on my desk that spat out a dollar bill every two minutes no matter what setbacks you encounter. I admit there seem to be working on. You need rich people in your society, take relative poverty. The first time I visited Google, they had a lot in common with. Deals fall through. One reason the young sometimes succeed where the old fail is that they feel they don't have good colleagues to inspire them. This kind of work.

And if that is the Valley's equivalent of the Welcome to Las Vegas sign: The Dish. As societies get richer, they learn something about work that's a lot like bipolar disorder. So you don't end up having as much competition as you might expect, it winds all over the country students are writing not about how a baseball team with a small budget, will find that he is forced to follow it, because a toll has to be generated by software, so we could show him our new technology, Revenue Loop. Partly this is because the rest of the company were called properties. At Yahoo, user-facing software was controlled by product managers and designers. For the first time, you know what you're talking about, you can trick yourself into looking like a freak, you can trick yourself into creating something so grand that you would never have dared to plan such a thing. At first desktop computers didn't look like much of a threat—that the whole process seemed pointless. It's rare to get things right the first time, you could make a fortune without stealing it. Domain experts were allowed to write on general topics was about eight people who went to the right people, giving the impression of productivity, and so did a YC founder I read the list to. What fraction of the things they wanted with their own opinion; on what grounds can you prefer one to another? That's the San Andreas Fault. You probably can't overcome anything so pervasive as the model of work from the 1970s.

Thanks to Robert Morris, Trevor Blackwell, Harj Taggar, Patrick Collison, Sam Altman, Jessica Livingston, and Qasar Younis for inviting me to speak.

[batterymonster2021]

Inside the mind of a master procrastinator | Tim Urban

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/inside-the-mind-of-a-master-procrastinator-tim-urban-13/

Inside the mind of a master procrastinator | Tim Urban

So in college, I was once a govt most important, which means that I needed to write quite a lot of papers. Now, when a normal pupil writes a paper, they could spread the determine somewhat like this. So, you already know — (Laughter) you get began possibly slightly slowly, however you get enough achieved in the first week that, with some heavier days later on, the whole lot gets achieved, things keep civil. (Laughter) And i’d want to do that like that.That stands out as the plan. I might have it all competent to move, but then, in reality, the paper would come alongside, and then i’d form of do that. (Laughter) And that may happen every single paper. But then got here my 90-page senior thesis, a paper you’re alleged to spend a yr on. And i knew for a paper like that, my common work waft used to be now not an option. It used to be method too big a assignment. So I deliberate matters out, and i determined I form of needed to go something like this. This is how the yr would go. So i’d off light, and i would bump it up within the core months, after which at the end, i’d kick it up into excessive gear just like a bit staircase. How tough might it’s to stroll up the stairs? No tremendous deal, proper? But then, the funniest factor occurred. These first few months? They came and went, and i couldn’t fairly do stuff. So we had an top notch new revised plan. (Laughter) after which — (Laughter) but then those center months certainly glided by, and i did not rather write words, and so we were here.And then two months changed into one month, which became two weeks. And in the future I aroused from sleep with three days until the closing date, still no longer having written a phrase, and so I did the only thing I could: I wrote ninety pages over 72 hours, pulling now not one but two all-nighters — people are usually not supposed to tug two all-nighters — sprinted throughout campus, dove in gradual movement, and bought it in simply on the closing date. I concept that was the top of everything. But a week later I get a name, and it can be the institution. And they say, "is this Tim city?" and i say, "Yeah." and they say, "We have got to talk about your thesis." and that i say, "ok." they usually say, "it’s the pleasant one now we have ever seen." (Laughter) (Applause) That did not occur. (Laughter) It was an extraordinarily, very dangerous thesis. (Laughter) I just wanted to experience that one moment when all of you inspiration, "This guy is mighty!" (Laughter) No, no, it used to be very, very bad. Anyway, at present i’m a creator-blogger man. I write the blog Wait however Why.And a few years ago, I decided to write about procrastination. My habits has perpetually confused the non-procrastinators around me, and that i desired to provide an explanation for to the non-procrastinators of the sector what goes on in the heads of procrastinators, and why we are the way we’re. Now, I had a hypothesis that the brains of procrastinators were surely one-of-a-kind than the brains of different persons. And to scan this, I determined an MRI lab that sincerely let me scan both my mind and the mind of a validated non-procrastinator, so I might compare them.I simply brought them right here to exhibit you in these days. I would like you to take a look carefully to peer if that you could notice a difference. I do know that if you’re now not a proficient mind proficient, it can be not that obvious, however just take a seem, ok? So here is the mind of a non-procrastinator. (Laughter) Now … Here’s my mind. (Laughter) there is a difference. Both brains have a Rational decision-Maker in them, but the procrastinator’s brain also has an on the spot Gratification Monkey. Now, what does this imply for the procrastinator? Well, it manner the whole thing’s exceptional unless this occurs. So the Rational determination-Maker will make the rational choice to do anything productive, but the Monkey does not like that plan, so he actually takes the wheel, and he says, "really, let’s learn the whole Wikipedia page of the Nancy Kerrigan/ Tonya Harding scandal, when you consider that I just remembered that that happened.(Laughter) Then — (Laughter) Then we’ll go over to the fridge, to see if there may be some thing new in there when you consider that 10 minutes ago. After that, we’re going to go on a YouTube spiral that begins with videos of Richard Feynman speaking about magnets and ends much, much later with us observing interviews with Justin Bieber’s mother. (Laughter) "All of that is going to take a even as, so we’re not going to rather have room on the schedule for any work in these days. Sorry!" (Sigh) Now, what’s going on here? The immediate Gratification Monkey does no longer seem like a guy you want behind the wheel. He lives completely within the present second. He has no memory of the earlier, no talents of the future, and he handiest cares about two matters: convenient and fun. Now, in the animal world, that works pleasant. If you’re a canine and you spend your whole life doing nothing other than easy and fun things, you’re a large success! (Laughter) And to the Monkey, people are just an additional animal species. You must hold good-slept, well-fed and propagating into the next generation, which in tribal times would have labored adequate.However, if you haven’t seen, now we’re no longer in tribal times. We’re in a sophisticated civilization, and the Monkey does not know what that is. Which is why we have now a further man in our brain, the Rational choice-Maker, who gives us the capability to do matters no other animal can do. We will visualize the long run. We will see the enormous snapshot. We can make lengthy-term plans. And he wishes to take all of that into consideration. And he desires to just have us do whatever is sensible to be doing correct now. Now, normally it is sensible to be doing matters that are effortless and fun, like when you’re having dinner or going to bed or having fun with well-earned leisure time. That’s why there’s an overlap. Normally they agree. However different instances, it makes rather more feel to be doing matters that are more difficult and not more great, for the sake of the enormous picture. And that is when now we have a clash. And for the procrastinator, that conflict tends to end a specific approach at any time when, leaving him spending a number of time in this orange zone, an effortless and fun location that is thoroughly out of the is sensible circle.I call it the dark Playground. (Laughter) Now, the darkish Playground is a position that each one of you procrastinators out there know very good. It is the place entertainment events occur at times when leisure events will not be imagined to be going down. The enjoyable you’ve got at midnight Playground isn’t honestly fun, due to the fact that it can be utterly unearned, and the air is filled with guilt, dread, anxiousness, self-hatred — all of those good procrastinator emotions. And the question is, on this crisis, with the Monkey in the back of the wheel, how does the procrastinator ever get himself over here to this blue zone, a less satisfactory location, but the place particularly main things happen? Good, seems the procrastinator has a guardian angel, anybody who’s continually watching down on him and looking at over him in his darkest moments — any one called the Panic Monster.(Laughter) Now, the Panic Monster is dormant more often than not, but he abruptly wakes up whenever a time limit gets too shut or there is hazard of public embarrassment, a profession catastrophe or another scary outcome. And importantly, he is the only thing the Monkey is petrified of. Now, he grew to be very primary in my existence lovely recently, seeing that the men and women of TED reached out to me about six months ago and invited me to do a TED speak. (Laughter) Now, of path, I stated sure. It is invariably been a dream of mine to have achieved a TED speak previously.(Laughter) (Applause) but within the center of all this pleasure, the Rational choice-Maker perceived to have whatever else on his intellect. He was announcing, "Are we clear on what we just authorised? Will we get what’s going to be now going down sooner or later at some point? We have got to take a seat down and work on this proper now." And the Monkey mentioned, "wholly agree, however let’s just open Google Earth and zoom in to the backside of India, like 200 feet above the bottom, and scroll up for 2 and a 1/2 hours til we get to the top of the country, in an effort to get a greater suppose for India." (Laughter) So that’s what we did that day.(Laughter) As six months turned into 4 and then two after which one, the people of TED determined to release the audio system. And that i opened up the internet site, and there was once my face staring right again at me. And wager who awoke? (Laughter) So the Panic Monster starts losing his intellect, and some seconds later, the whole approach’s in mayhem. (Laughter) And the Monkey — keep in mind, he is fearful of the Panic Monster — boom, he’s up the tree! And in the end, subsequently, the Rational decision-Maker can take the wheel and i will be able to engaged on the talk. Now, the Panic Monster explains all varieties of beautiful insane procrastinator behavior, like how any individual like me would spend two weeks unable to start the opening sentence of a paper, and then miraculously to find the incredible work ethic to remain up all night time and write eight pages. And this complete trouble, with the three characters — that is the procrastinator’s procedure. It can be now not lovely, however ultimately, it works. This is what I decided to jot down about on the blog a few years ago.After I did, I was once amazed by way of the response. Actually hundreds and hundreds of emails got here in, from all one of a kind forms of persons from in every single place the sector, doing all one of a kind forms of matters. These are people who had been nurses, bankers, painters, engineers and lots and lots of PhD scholars. (Laughter) and so they have been all writing, announcing the equal factor: "i have this difficulty too." but what struck me used to be the contrast between the light tone of the post and the heaviness of these emails. These men and women have been writing with severe frustration about what procrastination had completed to their lives, about what this Monkey had done to them. And i suggestion about this, and that i said, good, if the procrastinator’s procedure works, then what is going on on? Why are all of those individuals in such a dark situation? Well, it seems that there may be two kinds of procrastination. The whole lot I’ve mentioned at present, the examples I’ve given, all of them have time limits. And when there’s points in time, the consequences of procrastination are contained to the quick term considering the Panic Monster gets concerned. However there’s a 2d style of procrastination that happens in circumstances when there’s no deadline.So should you desired a profession the place you are a self-starter — some thing in the arts, whatever entrepreneurial — there’s no deadlines on those things to start with, considering nothing’s happening, not until you’ve long past out and achieved the hard work to get momentum, get matters going. There may be also all types of primary things outside of your profession that do not involve any closing dates, like seeing your household or exercising and taking care of your wellness, working to your relationship or getting out of a relationship that is not working. Now if the procrastinator’s only mechanism of doing these hard matters is the Panic Monster, that’s a problem, given that in all of those non-deadline situations, the Panic Monster doesn’t exhibit up. He has nothing to wake up for, so the consequences of procrastination, they may be now not contained; they just lengthen outward endlessly. And it is this lengthy-term kind of procrastination that’s so much much less seen and far much less mentioned than the funnier, brief-time period time limit-based variety. It’s normally suffered quietly and privately. And it can be the supply of a significant quantity of lengthy-term sadness, and regrets.And i concept, that’s why those men and women are emailing, and that is why they’re in such a bad place. It is now not that they may be cramming for some challenge. It can be that long-term procrastination has made them think like a spectator, from time to time, in their own lives. The frustration will not be that they could not acquire their dreams; it is that they weren’t even able to chasing them. So I read these emails and that i had a little bit bit of an epiphany — that i do not believe non-procrastinators exist. That is correct — I suppose all of you are procrastinators. Now, you might no longer all be a large number, like some of us, (Laughter) and a few of you might have a healthful relationship with cut-off dates, however don’t forget: the Monkey’s sneakiest trick is when the points in time don’t seem to be there.Now, I want to exhibit you one last factor. I call this a lifestyles Calendar. That’s one box for every week of a 90-12 months lifestyles. That is not that many bins, in particular due to the fact now we have already used a bunch of these. So I think we need to all take an extended, tough look at that calendar. We must consider about what we’re rather procrastinating on, when you consider that each person is procrastinating on something in lifestyles. We have got to stay aware of the instantaneous Gratification Monkey. That’s a job for all people. And when you consider that there’s not that many boxes on there, it is a job that should frequently in these days. Good, maybe no longer at present, but … (Laughter) you realize. Sometime quickly. Thank you. (Applause) .

[airoasis]

Inside the mind of a master procrastinator | Tim Urban

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/inside-the-mind-of-a-master-procrastinator-tim-urban-13/

Inside the mind of a master procrastinator | Tim Urban

So in college, I was once a govt most important, which means that I needed to write quite a lot of papers. Now, when a normal pupil writes a paper, they could spread the determine somewhat like this. So, you already know — (Laughter) you get began possibly slightly slowly, however you get enough achieved in the first week that, with some heavier days later on, the whole lot gets achieved, things keep civil. (Laughter) And i’d want to do that like that.That stands out as the plan. I might have it all competent to move, but then, in reality, the paper would come alongside, and then i’d form of do that. (Laughter) And that may happen every single paper. But then got here my 90-page senior thesis, a paper you’re alleged to spend a yr on. And i knew for a paper like that, my common work waft used to be now not an option. It used to be method too big a assignment. So I deliberate matters out, and i determined I form of needed to go something like this. This is how the yr would go. So i’d off light, and i would bump it up within the core months, after which at the end, i’d kick it up into excessive gear just like a bit staircase. How tough might it’s to stroll up the stairs? No tremendous deal, proper? But then, the funniest factor occurred. These first few months? They came and went, and i couldn’t fairly do stuff. So we had an top notch new revised plan. (Laughter) after which — (Laughter) but then those center months certainly glided by, and i did not rather write words, and so we were here.And then two months changed into one month, which became two weeks. And in the future I aroused from sleep with three days until the closing date, still no longer having written a phrase, and so I did the only thing I could: I wrote ninety pages over 72 hours, pulling now not one but two all-nighters — people are usually not supposed to tug two all-nighters — sprinted throughout campus, dove in gradual movement, and bought it in simply on the closing date. I concept that was the top of everything. But a week later I get a name, and it can be the institution. And they say, "is this Tim city?" and i say, "Yeah." and they say, "We have got to talk about your thesis." and that i say, "ok." they usually say, "it’s the pleasant one now we have ever seen." (Laughter) (Applause) That did not occur. (Laughter) It was an extraordinarily, very dangerous thesis. (Laughter) I just wanted to experience that one moment when all of you inspiration, "This guy is mighty!" (Laughter) No, no, it used to be very, very bad. Anyway, at present i’m a creator-blogger man. I write the blog Wait however Why.And a few years ago, I decided to write about procrastination. My habits has perpetually confused the non-procrastinators around me, and that i desired to provide an explanation for to the non-procrastinators of the sector what goes on in the heads of procrastinators, and why we are the way we’re. Now, I had a hypothesis that the brains of procrastinators were surely one-of-a-kind than the brains of different persons. And to scan this, I determined an MRI lab that sincerely let me scan both my mind and the mind of a validated non-procrastinator, so I might compare them.I simply brought them right here to exhibit you in these days. I would like you to take a look carefully to peer if that you could notice a difference. I do know that if you’re now not a proficient mind proficient, it can be not that obvious, however just take a seem, ok? So here is the mind of a non-procrastinator. (Laughter) Now … Here’s my mind. (Laughter) there is a difference. Both brains have a Rational decision-Maker in them, but the procrastinator’s brain also has an on the spot Gratification Monkey. Now, what does this imply for the procrastinator? Well, it manner the whole thing’s exceptional unless this occurs. So the Rational determination-Maker will make the rational choice to do anything productive, but the Monkey does not like that plan, so he actually takes the wheel, and he says, "really, let’s learn the whole Wikipedia page of the Nancy Kerrigan/ Tonya Harding scandal, when you consider that I just remembered that that happened.(Laughter) Then — (Laughter) Then we’ll go over to the fridge, to see if there may be some thing new in there when you consider that 10 minutes ago. After that, we’re going to go on a YouTube spiral that begins with videos of Richard Feynman speaking about magnets and ends much, much later with us observing interviews with Justin Bieber’s mother. (Laughter) "All of that is going to take a even as, so we’re not going to rather have room on the schedule for any work in these days. Sorry!" (Sigh) Now, what’s going on here? The immediate Gratification Monkey does no longer seem like a guy you want behind the wheel. He lives completely within the present second. He has no memory of the earlier, no talents of the future, and he handiest cares about two matters: convenient and fun. Now, in the animal world, that works pleasant. If you’re a canine and you spend your whole life doing nothing other than easy and fun things, you’re a large success! (Laughter) And to the Monkey, people are just an additional animal species. You must hold good-slept, well-fed and propagating into the next generation, which in tribal times would have labored adequate.However, if you haven’t seen, now we’re no longer in tribal times. We’re in a sophisticated civilization, and the Monkey does not know what that is. Which is why we have now a further man in our brain, the Rational choice-Maker, who gives us the capability to do matters no other animal can do. We will visualize the long run. We will see the enormous snapshot. We can make lengthy-term plans. And he wishes to take all of that into consideration. And he desires to just have us do whatever is sensible to be doing correct now. Now, normally it is sensible to be doing matters that are effortless and fun, like when you’re having dinner or going to bed or having fun with well-earned leisure time. That’s why there’s an overlap. Normally they agree. However different instances, it makes rather more feel to be doing matters that are more difficult and not more great, for the sake of the enormous picture. And that is when now we have a clash. And for the procrastinator, that conflict tends to end a specific approach at any time when, leaving him spending a number of time in this orange zone, an effortless and fun location that is thoroughly out of the is sensible circle.I call it the dark Playground. (Laughter) Now, the darkish Playground is a position that each one of you procrastinators out there know very good. It is the place entertainment events occur at times when leisure events will not be imagined to be going down. The enjoyable you’ve got at midnight Playground isn’t honestly fun, due to the fact that it can be utterly unearned, and the air is filled with guilt, dread, anxiousness, self-hatred — all of those good procrastinator emotions. And the question is, on this crisis, with the Monkey in the back of the wheel, how does the procrastinator ever get himself over here to this blue zone, a less satisfactory location, but the place particularly main things happen? Good, seems the procrastinator has a guardian angel, anybody who’s continually watching down on him and looking at over him in his darkest moments — any one called the Panic Monster.(Laughter) Now, the Panic Monster is dormant more often than not, but he abruptly wakes up whenever a time limit gets too shut or there is hazard of public embarrassment, a profession catastrophe or another scary outcome. And importantly, he is the only thing the Monkey is petrified of. Now, he grew to be very primary in my existence lovely recently, seeing that the men and women of TED reached out to me about six months ago and invited me to do a TED speak. (Laughter) Now, of path, I stated sure. It is invariably been a dream of mine to have achieved a TED speak previously.(Laughter) (Applause) but within the center of all this pleasure, the Rational choice-Maker perceived to have whatever else on his intellect. He was announcing, "Are we clear on what we just authorised? Will we get what’s going to be now going down sooner or later at some point? We have got to take a seat down and work on this proper now." And the Monkey mentioned, "wholly agree, however let’s just open Google Earth and zoom in to the backside of India, like 200 feet above the bottom, and scroll up for 2 and a 1/2 hours til we get to the top of the country, in an effort to get a greater suppose for India." (Laughter) So that’s what we did that day.(Laughter) As six months turned into 4 and then two after which one, the people of TED determined to release the audio system. And that i opened up the internet site, and there was once my face staring right again at me. And wager who awoke? (Laughter) So the Panic Monster starts losing his intellect, and some seconds later, the whole approach’s in mayhem. (Laughter) And the Monkey — keep in mind, he is fearful of the Panic Monster — boom, he’s up the tree! And in the end, subsequently, the Rational decision-Maker can take the wheel and i will be able to engaged on the talk. Now, the Panic Monster explains all varieties of beautiful insane procrastinator behavior, like how any individual like me would spend two weeks unable to start the opening sentence of a paper, and then miraculously to find the incredible work ethic to remain up all night time and write eight pages. And this complete trouble, with the three characters — that is the procrastinator’s procedure. It can be now not lovely, however ultimately, it works. This is what I decided to jot down about on the blog a few years ago.After I did, I was once amazed by way of the response. Actually hundreds and hundreds of emails got here in, from all one of a kind forms of persons from in every single place the sector, doing all one of a kind forms of matters. These are people who had been nurses, bankers, painters, engineers and lots and lots of PhD scholars. (Laughter) and so they have been all writing, announcing the equal factor: "i have this difficulty too." but what struck me used to be the contrast between the light tone of the post and the heaviness of these emails. These men and women have been writing with severe frustration about what procrastination had completed to their lives, about what this Monkey had done to them. And i suggestion about this, and that i said, good, if the procrastinator’s procedure works, then what is going on on? Why are all of those individuals in such a dark situation? Well, it seems that there may be two kinds of procrastination. The whole lot I’ve mentioned at present, the examples I’ve given, all of them have time limits. And when there’s points in time, the consequences of procrastination are contained to the quick term considering the Panic Monster gets concerned. However there’s a 2d style of procrastination that happens in circumstances when there’s no deadline.So should you desired a profession the place you are a self-starter — some thing in the arts, whatever entrepreneurial — there’s no deadlines on those things to start with, considering nothing’s happening, not until you’ve long past out and achieved the hard work to get momentum, get matters going. There may be also all types of primary things outside of your profession that do not involve any closing dates, like seeing your household or exercising and taking care of your wellness, working to your relationship or getting out of a relationship that is not working. Now if the procrastinator’s only mechanism of doing these hard matters is the Panic Monster, that’s a problem, given that in all of those non-deadline situations, the Panic Monster doesn’t exhibit up. He has nothing to wake up for, so the consequences of procrastination, they may be now not contained; they just lengthen outward endlessly. And it is this lengthy-term kind of procrastination that’s so much much less seen and far much less mentioned than the funnier, brief-time period time limit-based variety. It’s normally suffered quietly and privately. And it can be the supply of a significant quantity of lengthy-term sadness, and regrets.And i concept, that’s why those men and women are emailing, and that is why they’re in such a bad place. It is now not that they may be cramming for some challenge. It can be that long-term procrastination has made them think like a spectator, from time to time, in their own lives. The frustration will not be that they could not acquire their dreams; it is that they weren’t even able to chasing them. So I read these emails and that i had a little bit bit of an epiphany — that i do not believe non-procrastinators exist. That is correct — I suppose all of you are procrastinators. Now, you might no longer all be a large number, like some of us, (Laughter) and a few of you might have a healthful relationship with cut-off dates, however don’t forget: the Monkey’s sneakiest trick is when the points in time don’t seem to be there.Now, I want to exhibit you one last factor. I call this a lifestyles Calendar. That’s one box for every week of a 90-12 months lifestyles. That is not that many bins, in particular due to the fact now we have already used a bunch of these. So I think we need to all take an extended, tough look at that calendar. We must consider about what we’re rather procrastinating on, when you consider that each person is procrastinating on something in lifestyles. We have got to stay aware of the instantaneous Gratification Monkey. That’s a job for all people. And when you consider that there’s not that many boxes on there, it is a job that should frequently in these days. Good, maybe no longer at present, but … (Laughter) you realize. Sometime quickly. Thank you. (Applause) .