#Ainjel

[drfrogphd]

Ainjel - Published: May 11, 2019

This one also had a speedpaint!

[diamondsandtoads]

when you're so deep in your research that everything feels OBVIOUS and LAME but of course to everyone else in the world you have to explain things for 2.5 hours just to give them enough background info so you can start to explain your argument

[iplaysims4]

Ainjel 😍

[aswarmof413bees-blog]

“Alondra said she found no will in Josie’s files–only a piece of paper that said, “It all belongs to the angels.”

But, Alondra noted the handwriting was written shakily in thick magic marker, and every word but “it” and “the” was misspelled.” -Wtnv episode 104

So …like this?

[alyandajsource]

alyandaj: Listen!!! is available now everywhere!!!

Produced by Yves Rothman Engineered by Yves Rothman and Jesse Lee Newport Recorded at Sunset Sound, Hollywood CA & Saturn Sound, Hollywood, CA Assistant Engineer at Sunset Sound, Nate Haze Mixed by Yves Rothman and Jesse Lee Newport at Saturn Sound Vocal Production by Ainjel Emme Mastered by Emily Lazar and Chris Allgood at The Lodge, NY Aly Michalka: Vocal AJ Michalka : Vocal Nancy Wilson : Guitar, Background Vocals Jack Tatum : Synths, Guitar, Background Vocals Yves Rothman : Mini Moog, Drum Programming, ASR-10 James McAlister : Drums Amir Yaghmai : Electric Guitar Jake Bercovici : Electric Bass, Prophet 6 Joe Kennedy : Guitar Ben Zelico : Juno 106 Jorge Elbrecht : Programming

[alvie-pines]

Ainjel: shimye setpren?

Unjentn: olla ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[sociologyontherock]

MUN faculty and students who participated in the “Qualitatives” conference.

Left to right, front row: Hoornaz Keshavarzian, Foroogh Mohammadi, Lisa-Jo K. van den Scott, Gary Alan Fine (Northwestern University), Pouya Morshedi, Atinuke Tiamiyu, Chiao-Chi Chen.

Back row: Brent Augustus, Sheridan Thompson, Ainjel Stephens, Emma Lynn Martin, George Sheppard, Keif Godbout-Kinney.

[victorzsasz]

the highest honour I can give any post is tagging it with Show Ainjel because that means I deem it worthy to show my sister.

[drfrogphd]

Dressuptober - Published: Oct 3, 2021

[diamondsandtoads]

Do you love fairy tales? I want to hear from you!

EDIT: I will be closing the survey on November 9th! Thank you everyone who has participated!!!

My name is Ainjel Stephens and I am a PhD candidate in the Folklore department at Memorial University of Newfoundland. I am currently conducting a research project on fairy tales reception by queer-identifying individuals for my PhD dissertation under the supervision of Sarah Gordon. The purpose of this study is to learn how people who feel queer or identify as queer think about and respond to fairy tales.

Artist: Gustave Dore

If this sounds like a project you would be interested in participating in, then I invite you to take a short survey where you will be asked a few questions about who you are, as well as reflective questions about your thoughts and feelings on fairy tales, and if these tales are “queer.” It should only take about 10 minutes of your time to complete.

The survey asks if you would like to participate further with an interview with myself in order to discuss your thoughts and opinions on fairy tales. This interview will be a recorded hour-long interview through video conferencing platform Tauria or Webex. If you select yes, I will be in contact with you with further steps. If you select no, then that’s it! Thank you for participating.

To participate, you must be the age of majority and no younger than 19, have fairy tale knowledge in English, and identify with the term “queer.”

If you are interested, click the link below to participate in the anonymous survey.

If you have questions or want to chat further, you can contact me at alstephens@mun.ca or through my inbox on my project blog, www.diamondsandtoads.tumblr.com/

If you know anyone who may be interested in participating in this study, please send this post along.

Thank you for reading!

The proposal for this research has been reviewed by the Interdisciplinary Committee on Ethics in Human Research and found to be in compliance with Memorial University’s ethics policy. If you have ethical concerns about the research, such as your rights as a participant, you may contact the Chairperson of the ICEHR at icehr.chair@mun.ca or by telephone at 709-864-2861

[iplaysims4]

Ainjel  👼 changed her signature hairstyle. I’m not sure how long it’s gonna last though.

She popped out and did a bit of entertaining and hanging out with her “fans”. They hit the hookah and have some good laughs.

[shemakesmusic-uk]

Paper Citizen releases new single ‘Heart On Fire’

Indie-rock project Paper Citizen is led by Singaporean singer-songwriter, violinist, guitarist, and music producer, Claire Gohst. Self-proclaimed “Indie-rock for a lost soul in a new world,”  the LA-based artist’s music blends crisp vocals with lyrical intimacy, spacious guitars, and organic rhythms on her new track ‘Heart on Fire.’ Out today, just in time for Valentine’s Day, the track is a follow up to her critically-acclaimed 2021 album Wandering Gohst. 

‘Heart on Fire'’ was written by Gohst and produced together with Sutter Hellwarth & Ainjel Emme, and features drummer Anthony Lopez. Reflecting on her roots, Gohst penned a perfect piece that describes the walls/barriers that many people build around their most honest feelings and deepest desires. With its brilliancy shining upon the hard rock beats and pop-feel lyrics, “‘Heart on Fire’ speaks about breaking down on those walls rising within your heart, listening to your inner calling, and challenging your emotional barriers to deviate into an energy that will allow you to express yourself entirely for the world to see who you are,” Gohst explains.

She continues,  “‘Heart on Fire’ sets out to charge those inbound feelings within you that will pull you back to the culmination of who you are. We occasionally allow other people to dictate the direction of our lives through the fear that we hold within.” She is reminding you this time, “That feeling like your heart is on fire is an undeniable warmth that should pull you in and allow you to open up to the world about your dreams and aspirations.”

[lyricalmoonlite]

So honored to be featured on a Trans-led symphony and choral piece in honor of Trans Day of Remembrance’ Resilience (feat. Aurora Lloyd) Written and arranged by; Rie Daisies @Rie_Daisies Produced by; Ainjel Emme, Audrey Martinovich, Rie Daisies @AinjelEmme @AudioAudrey Aurora Lloyd - vocals @Lyricalmoonlite Rie Daisies - bass clarinet, choir vocals, clarinet, flute, percussion, piccolo, programming, vocals Aiden Brown - viola @Violakingaid Ariel LaBorie - cello @Airconditionerbennett Audie Szymanski - viola @Pizza.cat.o Billy Sheahan - euphonium @Billsburydoughboy Brooks T. Salloum - double bass @Brooks.plays.strings Chloe Wing - choir vocals @Chloe.Wing.music Corey DeRushia - percussion Eli Perry - choir vocals @Beans_boyyyy Eli Rittenhouse - choir vocals @Humanoid.lifeform Emma Joy Jampole - clarinet, bassoon Gillian Louise Omotoso - choir vocals @Shyextroversion Harlow Carpenter - trumpet @CallmeHarlow Larry Salzman - percussion @percussion_tracks_online Maggie Cousin - bass clarinet @Maggie_Cousin_music Mel Chayette - tuba Miguel Garcia - violin Mya Byrne - choir vocals @MyaByrne Parker Lemal-Brown - choir vocals @Thegood_Lemal Paulina Angel - choir vocals @Pmimusicgroup Rae Bischoff - violin @Its_raening_music Rusty LeBlanc - choir vocals @Rustayoga Sasha Z - flute Saskia Bailey-deBruijn - choir vocals @StudioSaskia Tona Brown - violin @Tonacity Wix Hazel Watson - choir vocals Recording Engineers; Care Combs, Corey DeRushia, Demetri Davis, Larry Salzman @Madamw.Care @Rightmindctrl Mixing Engineers; Ainjel Emme, Audrey Martinovich, Corey DeRushia Mastering Engineer; Corey DeRushia Photography by; Bellava G, Rie Daisies @Bellava_G Art Directors; Care Combs, Justin Powell, Rie Daisies, Kevin Howard @nenocenturion Video by; Skriwp (at Washington D.C.) https://www.instagram.com/p/CWgYBIkrPg5/?utm_medium=tumblr

[t-ii]

Just an ainjelle (sp?)

[heyheshi]

I love your blog!!! What's your name ?

SKSKKSKSKS THANK ÜÜÜ!!!🥰🥰

I'm Ana but my nickname is Ainjel (angel) so you can call me whichever you please!!

[raindrops-in-a-storm]

Yay, another one

Whoopee, another late night tear fest! Not as late night, I suppose, since this was more of an evening storm. But I journaled about it again :) I rather enjoy this journaling thing—it’s a good way to get my feelings out. Even if I’m not consistent about it, I kinda like having my most emotional days chronicled somewhere.

This note is a whole lot longer than the last one, and sort of turned into a letter to my dad near the end. I’ll post it under a keep reading, but be warned—it’s emotional.

I want to just leave. Is that too much to ask? I just want to…I want to get out of this house. I want not really independence, but independence from my family. My parents. Dad, mostly, but also mom. I want to be away from Didi’s phone calls (to have an excuse even if she calls). I want…space? Or…not…exactly space, because mom and dad go to work and I’m alone a lot, but…it’s never enough. Is that selfish? Greedy? Me rationalizing wasting my life? (Just dramatic.) But I am wasting my life. It’s not even…I don’t see the judgement in other people’s eyes anymore, but is that because it’s not there or because I don’t care anymore (I have enough of my own)? The words are almost rehearsed: I’m taking a few classes, mostly relaxing, enjoying. While [new college friend] gets certified, while others do internships, while the juniors apply to college (and I want them to get into good schools, I do, I just don’t want to deal with the…judgements? Thoughts of my own? The attention, again, on how I failed). That again. I failed, but also…people didn’t expect it. I’ve always done so well at acting like another gifted child. I’ve always done so well at hiding bad grades and sadness behind a smile and a veneer of cheerfulness. Everyone…everyone thinks I’m smart. That I have top grades, that it’s easy. Even now, when I’ve so obviously failed—the juniors (mostly) take it as the college process being hard, or me not displaying myself perfectly, or something else, but there isn’t a doubt about my stats (are they doubting now, though? My honesty has started to shine though, I’ve stopped holding myself back so much—are they starting to see the cracks?). In the chem class for goodness sake! Ainjell thinks I’m so smart, and so do some of the others (even if they haven’t said it, I recognize those looks. …that’s funny…). I’m not though. Dad is hoping again and I hate it because I’m going to fail again and he’s going to be disappointed again and and and I want to leave already. I want to just go to college. I’ve been waiting for this since middle school, since everything started falling apart and didi and bhaiya came home with stories of how wonderful college was. Since I was alone in 6th grade and making mistakes in 7th grade, and distraught at the beginning of 8th grade (remember that party? Remember [old best friend K]’s almost angry look, remember how hurt I was when none of them showed up, remember how much I missed [old town]?). Since [high school classmate J] and [high school classmate H] became besties and I was left on the side, since I looked around and realized that the day students had their own little cliche—and that I wasn’t in it. Since I joined the “Breakfast Club” but was never really part of it (and why is that haunting me, even now? Especially now, why is that what I turn to for the sad dreams, the catalyst for pity and loneliness?). And then, realizing that [high school] wasn’t a new chapter, but a continuation of the same old story, when I started pulling away from my family and letting go around friends and joining Discord and giving up. And then junior year and work and dying inside but also being offered hope again because I could start over in college. Because by then I didn’t want to make things work with mom and dad. Because I had given up on them understanding me (and yeah, I hoped later. I tried. Maybe not as hard as I should have, but can you blame me? Maybe it’s me rationalizing again, too many days and nights of imagining and twisting, but something inside me holds onto the thought that you never gave me reason to trust you. You never proved that you would support me, would understand, would even try to understand. Because had you, in the past? Had you actually tried to understand? Or was it the same questions, over and over again—what happened?—with the same stupidly condescending and disappointed and superior and infuriating but so, so hurtful tone? The number of days I came home to the tired wave-off, the “stop asking useless questions,” the barely answering about your day until I only did it as habit or to delay you asking me about mine, the snide remarks about sitting down all the time when I goddamn walked more than you did at my freaking boarding school that’s constantly compared to a college campus and then returned home after freaking dark so you can just shut the hell up). Because by junior year, I was more than ready to leave. Because if my spark was reignited at all that year (and the next), it was because I found friends (not best friends, but good friends) that I trusted and let my guard down around, and because I could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. Because I could almost reach it—because I had a countdown, and maybe I didn’t acknowledge it right away, but a large part of that countdown was getting away from you. Because I’m not didi and bhaiya, and they still got space growing up. Because maybe I’m more broken (and what does it say that I’m okay admitting that? That I believe that without a doubt?), but I needed validation and support and friends who I could trust (because I goddamn couldn’t trust all of you with the truth, not without a hell of a lot more heartbreak and tears. And maybe it was weak of me to give up. But I did, and nothing can change that). And say what you want about my “evil” high school—wax poetic about how it changed me and hurt me and whatever else—but I found friends there. I might have also found Bs and Cs and even Ds, and left a much less confident person, but for the first time in my whole life, I found people that I could just be with. I found space to grow (maybe in the wrong direction) and space to keep secrets (maybe from you) and space to try things (and maybe fail miserably) but I never had that before. And maybe you think of it as mostly negatives. Maybe you see my more frequent tears and more frequent stubbornness and huffs and sarcastic one-liners and blame [high school] and yearn for the little girl I once was. But I don’t care. Well. I mean, I do care, because I want a time machine too, but I don’t care as much as I used to. And okay, maybe that’s because failure is like an old friend to me and my heart hurts a little less every time I see it, but maybe it’s because I’ve learned that failure isn’t…life-ending. Maybe I’m not didi or bhaiya or you or mom. Maybe I haven’t skipped grades or gotten in the newspaper at 13 or gotten into Harvard. Maybe I’m not a genius. Maybe I’m not as smart as you (as we) thought. But I am smart. I am doing better than some people. I’m not at the bottom. I’m getting 90s and 100s. I skipped a whole semester because of APs (I got actual awards because I did well on my APs). I’m going to a good college, even if it isn’t an Ivy. I’ve found stable ground (even if it shakes sometimes)—and the fact that you guys aren’t automatically part of it anymore? The fact that your pride and genuine interest in my rambles are extra instead of expected? Well, maybe you think that’s a negative. But me? My heart, my sense of self, my slowly-rebuilding confidence? I think it’s a positive. I think there’s no question about it. Because I know you care. I know you love me, I know you expect the world because you honestly believe I can do it, I know that you wouldn’t care at the end of the day if I become a doctor or a dropout. And yeah, maybe that is part of my foundation because I don’t question it. But the fact is, I’m a teenage girl. I’m a teenage girl who has two, shining older siblings and parents who did amazing for themselves. I’m a teenage girl who went to five different schools in five years—maybe the most important five years of her life—and was expected to stay afloat while also skipping ahead in math almost every year and doing extracurriculars. I’m a teenage girl who has always had a tight friend group and has always seen her family have tight friend groups and who expected a lot from middle and high school but never expected that she would struggle to make friends. I’m a teenage girl who never dealt with proper failure until it slammed me in the face and then came back to kick my butt once I could see clearly again—and then did it again, and again, and again. And I’m a teenage girl who yeah, didn’t reach out for help in the perfect way, who was scared of disappointment and hid her mistakes until it was too late, but you’re the dad that didn’t realize what was happening. You’re the dad that was so excited with his new job(s) that he didn’t pay attention to home. Who relaxed after sending his oldest kids to the top college in the country and assumed that his part was mostly done. You’re the dad that casually expected but barely questioned, that worked hard during the day and came back exhausted, that didn’t realize (and hardly does now) that his kids weren’t mirror images of himself, that relied on luck when he should have known better. And maybe I used to have that potential. Maybe, if things had gone perfectly, I would also be going to Harvard—or maybe I would have gotten into one of the BS/MD programs. Maybe I would be the queen bee of my school, and already be acing my classes, and would be hella confident and kind and cheerful and pretty and thin and the perfect daughter. The best of didi and bhaiya, of mom and you. But that’s not me anymore. That cloud has drifted away—and you need to accept that. I have (or, I’m trying at least). You need to stop hoping. You need to stop mentioning how smart I am in that wistful voice. You need to stop expecting me to suddenly become this straight-A daughter who tells you everything because that’s not me anymore. That’s not going to happen anymore, and definitely not with the ease you seem to expect. Sure, I’m gonna (try to) work my butt off in college because I do want to be a doctor. Sure, I’m gonna try to be more open and honest with you guys. But I’ve also learned how to keep secrets. I’ve learned how to hide my tears. I’ve learned that trusting non-family members doesn’t always end in betrayal and heartbreak (although it sometimes does, and I’ve learned that lesson too). I’ve learned that you aren’t Superman, and you can’t fix every hurt, and you aren’t going to be the most kind or sensitive or even caring enough all of the time. I’ve learned that you’ve grown old and weary, and don’t always want to tangle with my emotions and problems all the time. And that’s okay; really, it is. Because now I don’t expect it. There might be times when I look at how you treated didi and bhaiya with bitterness—I’m not perfect, and I know that I’ll resent them many more times in the future—but now there’s a part of me that’s said goodbye to that version of you. This version of you leaves before I wake up (or is on the computer until he leaves) and returns in the evening, only to be on the phone with his boss or puttering with his fascinating Tesla. This version of you eats dinner (with a computer or phone most of the time) and lively chat, but then goes to his spot on the couch and stays on his chosen device for a while before he inevitably falls asleep. Or watches a movie. But this version of you barely has time to talk unless it’s urgent (and even then is sleepy or grumpy half the time) or we’re in the car (and he’s driving). This version of you complains at prodding and snaps at stubbornness and scoffs at “useless” curiosity. This version of you refuses to change. (Okay, maybe I’ve accepted it, but it clearly still bothers me. A lot. And maybe I should have known that, since that is what prompted this whole…mind dump in the first place. But hey, a girl can dream.) But anyway. You wanted me to journal my excitement for college didi? Well here it is. My true motivations for wanting to go to college. Too bad none of you will ever read it.