#I almost posted it not in english my head is really out of order je suis fatigué 🤯😵🥴

[judasiskariot]

Hey my lovely mutuals 😘Just wanted to say thank you for all the tags; I have seen them 🤗 I just don't know when I'll get to it, because the flu has me in its chokehold for almost two weeks now 😫😪😖

My body has to do too many flanking maneuvers, that's why this virus war is taking longer 😅 Reminds me of, I wanted to write a flanking maneuver of my Tav Saulus, Astarion, Gale and the Owlbear cub. Believe me, it's funny 😄

Maybe next year I'll be able to write a Saulus x Astarion Christmas story, I would have liked that 😊 I like seasonal events. 🎁⛄❄🎄❄⛄🎁

I wish you all a wonderful Christmas,

Happy Holidays, or just a great time. Make it yours! No matter what, no matter how! YOU DO YOU!

🎁⛄❄🎄❄⛄🎁

[monsieur-hadrien]

Lost in Translation - drarry oneshot

Inspired by this post by @drarrysdementor, 1.6k words,  16 October 2020

crossposted on Archive of Our Own

***

Harry Potter was not the most articulate of wizards. Although he had been in the spotlight since he was eleven, and even more so now with his Head Auror position, never had the boy wonder overcome his sub-par speaking skills. Hermione had told him many times that he should work on his people skills in general, and while the fiery passion he exuded in his speeches usually made up for his lack of eloquence, it did not make up for his conversational skills. What could he say? He’s a man of simple pleasures. Harry had his friends and, while he would never admit it, talking to new people scared him a bit.

Maybe that’s why he found Draco Malfoy so enthralling.

While Harry was vaguely aware that the blonde had gotten a research job at the ministry, it wasn’t until his promotion that he started seeing him around. Quite often Harry would see Draco exiting the muggle coffee shop down the road from the Ministry, his camel-colored trench coat fluttering slightly in the wind as he strutted, yes strutted, down the sidewalk, casually sipping from his cup.

It wasn’t the fact that Malfoy’s favorite morning coffee was from a muggle shop that surprised Harry the most (based on the heartfelt apology letters that he and the rest of the trio received after Draco’s trial, he assumed that the former death eater had rescinded his family’s beliefs). Nor was it the fact that he seemed to be ordering coffee - let’s be honest, the man had always seemed much too posh to ever drink anything other than earl grey and the occasional imported red wine or luxury liquor. No, it was the fact that he looked so damn fit while doing it. Draco had grown up, that’s uncontested. They all grew up, in fact, but not everyone grew up to look like that. That’s not to say that he was unattractive in school, quite the opposite really, but the newly softened facial features and, might he say, impeccable legs are truly a sight for sore eyes. Coupled with his new subtle confidence - less “bow down peasant” than their Hogwarts days, for sure - Harry became quite smitten with his former rival.

Well, perhaps he didn’t realize that he was enamored right away, but something (Harry would call it a “gut feeling” even though it was probably another certain organ) possessed him to go get coffee at that exact coffee shop one morning. Now, a normal person would have probably struck up a conversation, but Harry James Potter is not a normal person.

He decided as any other sane person would, to wake up an hour earlier than usual to purchase, what he would call over-priced, coffee, and sit in the shop in hopes of seeing the young Malfoy. Although Harry brought with him unfinished paperwork and a book to complete, he opted to “discreetly” watch the door for the next half hour.

If Draco noticed Harry while he got in line to order his morning drink, he didn’t let on. He left as quickly as he came in too, much to Harry’s demise. He couldn’t help but feel a tinge of disappointment, though he didn’t have the right to, he thought. It’s not like he had ever sought out the former Slytherin, so why would Malfoy expect him to now? Years later, much less. Harry waited a few minutes more before he left the shop as well. That was an utter failure, and obviously, Harry decided, he would not be doing that again.

Harry returned each morning for coffee for the next two weeks, and each morning he was promptly ignored by the one man he attended for.

It was Friday. Harry had planned to go home early that day, but an accident in the field (including a pet kneazle, an illegally obtained vial of amortentia, and a trampoline - how the trampoline got there, no one knew) gave him enough paperwork that he’d be up quite late that night. Near dinnertime, Harry collected his papers and tucked them into his bag to bring with him as he grabbed a bite to eat, but before he could leave, there was an angry rapping at his office door. He sighed, exasperated, and went to answer. Opening his door, he expected to see Hermione or Ron ready to scold him for forgetting some very important event, like a charity ball for Britain’s animal shelters or, Merlin forbid, a Chudley Cannons match.

Instead, to Harry’s delighted surprise, standing outside the door was Draco Malfoy, glaring at him with a cold fury. Any fuzzy feeling that Harry had disappeared when he saw the look on his face.

He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “Can I, uh-”

“Yes, I would like to know the reason that the Auror Department has been following me for the past two weeks.” Draco’s tone read as polite, but his tense shoulders and the fists balled at his side told Harry otherwise.

Bewildered, Harry states, “The DMLE hasn’t been-”

“Oh, cut the shit, Potter.” Draco shoved past Harry, entering the office while slamming the door behind him. “The Malfoy family owes nothing more to the Ministry. We’ve already allowed the Auror Department to search and seize any dark artifacts at the manor, and my father is serving his time in Azkaban as we speak if you haven’t forgotten. I will not have the Ministry slander my family name any more than they ha-”

“Draco,” whoops, that one slipped out, “I have no clue what you’re on about.”

His polite front vanished, “Don’t play coy with me, Head Auror Potter. I’ve seen you every morning for the past two weeks watching me get tea. I’m not as dense as you seem to be.”

Harry froze. Oh my god, that’s embarrassing. “Oh,” was the only thing he could think to respond with.

Draco laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Oh? ‘Oh?!’ Is that all you could think of to explain yourself? You may be the Savior of the Wizarding World, Potter,” Harry cringed at the nickname, “but you aren’t above the law. I will be reporting this to Minister Shacklebolt if you don’t explain yours-”

“I wasn’t trying to follow you or anything…”

“Then what the hell do you call the past two weeks, Potter?”

“... Well maybe I did.” Draco scoffed at him and almost began speaking again, but Harry started before him. “But it wasn’t because you did anything.”

All he got in response was a calculating stare as if Draco was trying to catch him in a lie. He must have passed because all Draco said in return was, “Then why?"

Harry could feel the blood rush up to his ears and he nervously reached for the nape of his neck. He did not want to look the other man in the eyes at that moment. Literally anywhere other than him. “Uh…”

“Ah yes, Potter, very articulate as always. Now spit it out.”

The blush began to migrate to Harry’s cheeks. Damn Malfoy for looking so fit even when he’s angry. He mumbled a confession, his words stringing together into an incoherent jumble of syllables. “ well idon’tknow i saw that you wenttothat coffee shop all the time‘n i wanted totalkto you but i didn’ know howso i decided ‘oh why not just go in ‘n see if he talkstome first’ but then you didn’t so i was like ‘oh maybe i should juslikenot’ but then i kept going i don’know i didn’ mean to make you uncomfor-”

“Harry Potter, I cannot understand a word you are saying.”

“I wanted to ask you out.”

Draco just quirked his eyebrow. “vous devez travailler sur vos compétences en relations humaines, Monsieur Potter.”

Harry’s face scrunched up in confusion. “What?-”

“Je pensais qu’on parlait différentes langues pour s’amuser.”

“I don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I didn’t know what you said earlier either,” the blonde replied with a smirk with only half the malice he had when he walked into the room.

Harry just looked even more confused, dazed even. Draco slowed his speech down, as if talking to a small child, “That wasn’t English you were speaking.”

“Oh?...” Pause. “Oh…”

“Is parseltongue a defense mechanism, or do you just people skills equivalent to that of a garden snake?”

“Shut up, Malfoy.”

“I thought it was Draco to you now, Auror Potter?” Harry groaned in embarrassment and buried his face in his forearms as he sat back down in his office chair. “But I would like to know what you said,” Draco continued after a beat, his smirk disappearing.

In a fleeting moment of courage, Harry pulled his head from his arms and looked Draco in the eye, his blushing face as honest and open as he could be. That’s one thing he was quite good at, being honest. “I was going to ask you out to coffee.”

Draco’s face was impassive. “Like… a date…”

Harry confirmed with a short nod, his eyes focusing on anything other than Draco, nerve gone. “Yeah, a date.” His voice cracked. Again, very embarrassing. Harry decided that an early grave might not be too bad at this point.

A few beats went by. Draco’s calculating expression morphed into one of determination, a very good look on him if Harry was being honest. “Tomorrow morning at 9. I’ll be waiting at the coffee shop. Au revoir.” He moved with grace to the door, the same walk he had every morning. Leaving a very confused Harry in his office chair, Draco opened the door to leave, but not before turning around to say, “Don’t be late.” He grinned and walked out to the hall, closing the door behind him.

Harry sat there, staring at the door for minutes after, processing the encounter. He got a date, yeah. But what stuck out to him, probably the most important part of that conversation, was that he was fucking right.

Draco Malfoy, like the posh git he is, orders tea from a coffee shop. Whether it’s earl grey or not, Harry did not know. He would, however, be asking tomorrow.

***

[cosmiciaria]

Assassin’s Creed Unity Review/honest thoughts/discussion - SPOILERS (long post)

So I decided to finally settle on a proper review – although this one is going to be more of what here in Argentina we call a "sincericidio": basically I will spit my guts out and cry in one corner, while being completely honest about my feelings. I will try to keep most spoilers at bay, like I always do, but there's just one thing I cannot not talk about which is THE spoiler so – I want you to be considered warned.

Before I start, I should state, since this is my review and reviews are quite personal actually, why this game is so important to me and why I wanted to play it so bad. There's a combination of factors, and obviously this game isn't going to strike the same chords with everyone, so bear in mind that this is strictly subjective and, right now, personal.

First factor and I think the most important one: I like writing. Wait, don't leave the review just yet. I like writing and creating characters. I have many. Lately I've been revisiting a character that had a very sad backstory and added quite long happy ending for him. I made him fall in love again. He's black haired, wears a short pony tail… his new love interest is a redhead with wavy hair… ok, you get me now, don't you? And what's worse, is that their story takes place in a fictional world that resembles quite much Europe of 1800's. So clothes and ballrooms and palaces and big, fluffy dresses are a thing in this story of mine. I think that, if you've ever created a character, to find another fictional, similar character in any medium is going to draw your attention to that product right away. It did happen to me with Cal Kestis from SW Jedi: Fallen Order, I have another redhead baby boy that needs to be protected at all costs. It's a way for us to 'see', let's say, or imagine our characters being brought to life.

Second factor: I love Paris. I visited Versailles and Paris back in late 2018, and I went there with zero expectations, only to fall in love with France. I love the Château de Versailles. I love palaces. I love the Seine. I love the Louvre. I love it. All of it. If I could, I'd live there. Sadly, I'm poor and speak little to no French at all.

Third Factor: I'm learning French! I dream with the day I can speak like five languages as well as I speak English (I studied it for ten years so… it kinda makes sense that I feel comfortable with it). I'm still struggling with French, but I will get there someday. I will. Because I love it. I love the language. Oui.

Fourth factor: I also really really, really like the French Revolution, and I've never, much to my surprise, watched or played any series, videogame, movie or anything that takes place in such a context (if you have recommendations, please drop them right away!). And I say "to my surprise" because I really like that part of History! So, to live in almost first person how the French Revolution unfolded – to hear the chansons and to see people gathered in crowds at every corner, listening to a liberty preacher wielding the French flag – that was glorious.

Fifth and yeah we're done: I love Les Misérables. I know it happens way later than the French Revolution, but since this musical (and the 2012 movie) became my 'home', I can't help but feel a stronger connection with everything I said above. I can watch that movie over and over and I will still sing Empty chairs and empty tables with tears in my eyes, despite its flaws.

I had like every reason to play this game. And it paid off.

Before plunging into it, I did read the novelization. Sadly, it was only to satisfy my soon-to-be-fulfilled obsession with the game, since I don't think the quality of the narration was, uhm, that good – it felt like you needed to have played the game before reading it. And I get it, it's a videogame adaptation, that's fine, but when you look at it as standalone book, it doesn't stand alone that good. What disappointed me, though, wasn't the narration, which was what I totally expected it to be, nor the dialogues or the ending – it was Élise. I was bit weary about this because she came across as completely different character than what I had in mind about her, and I didn't like her. At all. In the book, at least. I didn't like her because she had a few comments and took some decisions that made her look like she was stupid and/or selfish. I can understand the selfish part; I do not want to even believe that she's stupid. So that's why the book was a bit of a letdown for me. I recommend it, though, if you're a fan, because there's a book exclusive character that really gets the plot moving and he's endearing: Mr. Weatherall. Oh, what a man.

Now, regarding the game itself – it shouldn't come as a surprise that I thoroughly enjoyed it. As I've stated in another post, this game is barely an Assassin's Creed, since you delve like zero into the AC lore, and it's just an excuse for your character – Arno – to know parkour. Which in fact he knows before becoming an assassin, so it begs the question, why is this game even in this franchise? I digress. It's an AC game at the end of the day and that won't change.

But do not jump into this game expecting it be your average AC story. I firmly believe that the creators wanted to convey a different story here. For starters, Arno is no hero. Arno doesn't want to save the world. Arno doesn't care about any artifact or magic or creed. Arno only wants to discover who's the man behind De La Serre's death. That's his main driving force. And behind that, there's this undeniable and yet quite destructive feeling that pulls him forward: Élise.

Élise and Arno's relationship goes deeper into this story than it's noticeable at first glance. When you look back upon the plot, you discover that without their love 'subplot', there's no plot at all. If I may be so bold, I would even argue that Arno's story is a tragic love story. All the assassin's lore, all the betrayals, the first few assassinations, it all falls back into the background when Élise returns to the stage almost halfway through the game. And even though they only share like one kiss or two during the 40 hours of gameplay, there's still this latent, persistent motivation behind each of Arno's actions, that he wouldn't be doing what he's doing if it wasn't for Élise.

And it all comes down to that one line: What I wanted was you.

I cannot stress enough how much I loved all of the drunkard memory of Versailles. I think it embodies Arno's perfect character development. The constant rain and the bluish filter on every framerate added to the overall depressing atmosphere. I felt miserable while playing those quests, and the moment he steps out into the entrance of the Château de Versailles and reflects on his past decisions – decisions that have been stolen from him, because he could never defend himself nor change the course of actions on his own accord – that exact moment that he sits down and cries, I cried too.

Because all the game, all the memories, all the dialogues go in a crescendo only to crumble into this abyss. And this, in turn, creates a fleshed-out character, with a believable development, believable feelings, believable motivations. I can feel for Arno, I can understand him, I pity him, and I want to hug him. The whole game reaches its peak in its main character's worst moment: when he realizes that he's screwed everything up.

And not always do we get a story where the main character doesn't win. He just doesn't. Underneath its revolutionary streets, this story reeks of inexorability and fatality. You know it, you know it in the back of your head, but you push that thought apart because you want to enjoy jumping over rooftops and finding the best strategy to kill that man. There's this underlying, looming melancholy in every memory that you play in, and that's why the end doesn't surprise us.

It makes us cry, of course, but it didn't come as a surprise at all. If you're shocked about the end, then you haven't been paying enough attention to Élise's dialogues, to the tone of the story, to her letters, to where this plot was going. Because, like I said, the story is about Arno and Élise's relationship, it isn't about defeating the bad guy. And there was only one way that story could end.

*cries in French*

*Je pleure beaucoup*

I know the game has been panned by players for its performance. And being the 2020 year of our lord, I cannot say I reject those allegations, since it's been 6 years since the game was released. I hope enough patches were implemented to salvage the bugs. I only came across one bug in my entire playthrough which bothered me a little: some NPC's would sometimes pop into cutscenes and phase through the characters like nothing. At first it was funny, but then towards the end it happened two more times, in important cutscenes with our lovely couple, which kinda destroyed all immersion, if you know what I mean. The rest was fine: it never crashed on me, I didn't encounter the infamous, horrendous bug that unleashed memes in internet, never a T-pose or something that rendered the game unplayable – nothing, only that funny bug I mentioned. I did see the drop in framerates, specially in very crowded areas – but to be honest I never saw a game with so many NPC's together in the same place, like, hundreds of them, each with unique animations and varied models. I only come from playing Syndicate, and even there the number of NPC's was lower. Here is jarringly unreal, I didn't know the French Revolution was THIS jam-packed with people!

On a graphical department, this 2014 game still holds up. Very well. I think it even looks better in some scenes than some of its successors. The cutscenes were sometimes very cinematographic, with close ups, zoom outs, certain angles, with quite real lighting and shadows. I know it's not Naughty Dog and it doesn't have the whole Sony battalion behind, but damn if some of the character's expressions were really good. It didn't happen often, so when one of them had this very specific face I was like *insert surprised pikachu meme*.

I also enjoyed the music a lot. I don't know why but the one from the main menu stuck with me for a while. All of the songs have this Versailles, aristocratic tone to it which put me in the mood.

I have only one minor complaint and its entirely optional, let's say – I want to platinum this game. But I don't own PS plus, because it's, uhhh, expensive in my country (do not want to indulge in dollar exchange rates right now). And there are like two trophies only obtainable through multiplayer, which renders my trophy hunt useless. But, alas, I knew this before buying the game. I think that games shouldn't come with multiplayer trophies for the platinum. If you have to pay extra for something, it must be completely optional. And so should be the trophies related to it. It's a bit disappointing, though, because after finishing this game I want so bad to return to it, but if I can't platinum, I don't see myself coming back to it soon. Either way, I could still earn the rest of the trophies, but that would only enrage me more when the last 3% is going to be locked forever *cries again*.

All in all, my major question at the end is: why does this game receive so much hate? I guess if I came from a hardcore fan standpoint I could understand it more. If I had played all its predecessors before this one, I would also feel that the gameplay and the objectives are repetitive. That the challenges are bs. But the stealth aspect has been improved, the parkour has been redesigned and adapted, and as of now, bugs aren't a problem anymore. I want to believe that when a remaster for the PS5 comes out or, I don't know, if someone by divine grace has an epiphany in the near future regarding this game, people will change their mind on this one and will appreciate more what it wanted to be, than what they made it to be. After all, this is Arno's story. Arno's tragic love story.

Also this game is beautiful JUST LOOK AT IT LOOK AT IT!!! 

Sorry couldn’t help myself

[fearsmagazine]

CURSE OF THE BLIND DEAD - Review

DISTRIBUTOR: Uncork’d Entertainment

SYNOPSIS: The film begins in the 14th century as a group of the Knights Templar are revealed to be Satan worshipers. They are captured before they can complete the ritual and brutally murdered by the locals. Before they are burned at the state the leader of the Knights vows to return to haunt the village and the nearby forest. Over the opening credits there is a montage of historical atrocities that spans centuries. The story continues in a post-apocalyptic future. A man and his pregnant daughter are in search of a safe haven, following the lead of a message they hear broadcast over the radio. They are attached by a bunch of ruthless scavengers. However, they are rescued by several men who are part of a group sheltering in a nearby industrial site. Although cautious of their benefactor’s characity, they are unaware of the mad preacher’s sinister designs and his connection to the Undead Knights.

REVIEW: In the 70’s I can remember seeing Amando de Ossorio’s “Blind Dead” films in a theater. There were four films in total, and in release order: Tombs of the Blind Dead, Return of the Blind Dead, The Ghost Galleon, & Night of the Seagulls. Over the years the series gained a cult following. It had such a significant fan base that in 2005 the company Blue Underground released a coffin-shaped boxed set in 2005, with a subsequent additional release of a definitive collection of all four films in 2020. Over the years the films have remained for me a guilty pleasure. They are gritty, gory, have some story issues, but possess everything that would draw a teenage boy and his friends into a theater.

Of course when I got the news that the filmmaker was “resurrecting” “The Blind Dead” in his film CURSE OF THE BLIND DEAD I was excited to venture down memory lane. Upon viewing, ouch! There are some okay things, and some not so great things, but this film never captures je ne sais quoi of those four original films.

First let me say that it has nothing to do with the cast. There is some good acting, so kitschy performances, and at times there were some performances that simply made me chuckle. Those were the random scavenger bad guys who show up several times in the plot. Some of these actors were unintentionally breaking the 4th wall with their exaggerated performances. The cast is a U.N. of talent with a variety of accents, so the film is in English. And as far as I can tell no one was dubbed. What ends up on screen is fine, and it was all in fun.

Director Raffaele Picchio does an okay job working with the material and resources he has. There are some tense sequences, entertaining fight sequences, and interesting action. I got the feeling that he had a tough job forming this into a cohesive tale, and maybe my younger self was more forgiving of those things.

The screenplay is not rocket science. We have the opening setup, the montage over the credits to catch us up, and then the basic storyline of father, daughter, Satanic cult, the blind undead. You get the premise. For the most part the dialogue was fine, a couple of clichés and a few groaners, but fine. Although, the rest of the plot past a certain point seemed like they might have been making it up as they went along. Also, they try too hard to tie up all the loose ends so it feels like it goes on beyond a point where it could have ended. Again, I might be older and be expecting a tad more, but I could get over it.

The original films were raw and gritty in their production designs, costumes, and special effects. That was mostly likely a result of the limited resources they had to make the films, and that is why I still find them endearing. CURSE OF THE BLIND DEAD put me off as it was too pristine. It is set in a post-apocalyptic future that is visually too clean, people’s clothes look to be in amazing shape, and all the daily stuff of life (cups, plates, tables, etc.) look almost brand new, except for maybe a few dents. These people are supposed to be survivors and where they are living and their wares look better than anything we’ve seen in the media of the people in refugee or displacement camps.

Because this is set in a post-apocalyptic future, there are numerous establishing shots of locations that are off in the distance which are clearly CGI images. A couple of times they try to match them with live-action shots. It doesn’t really work as you can see the difference between what is the organic world and the CGI one. It’s not that the CGI is bad, it’s just that it could have been better, more believable.

So, then we have the Blind Dead. This is what truly made me sad. This is the main selling point of the film. If you skimp here you lose the fans. Again, when they came walking out of the mist, it must have been a fog of cleaning chemicals from the local dry cleaners as their garments were sparkling clean and looked brand new. Even the weapons they brandish look new, untested. The sorriest state of affairs is their makeup. I know somebody probably worked hard to create these, and give each one a unique look, but they look like a Halloween mask right off the shelf. There is no articulation and the teeth look like they were designed right into the mask. There is no articulation in design. Also, where the mouth opening is there were times that I saw the dark fabric use to hide the actor behind the mask. The makeup looks neither dusty or dry, nor old and decayed with slimy sheen. It just looks like a latex mask.

I am well aware that the filmmakers behind the original “Blind Dead'' films could have taught a masterclass in filmmaking. But what they did, what they achieved, was no different from anything the talented filmmakers who passed through the Roger Corman school of filmmaking had to deal with. In contrast. CURSE OF THE BLIND DEAD, be it a reboot or a homage, lacks many of the touches that endeared those films to their fans. It’s not a bad film, it's not a great film, it’s simply a film that doesn’t satisfy this fan’s expectations  or feels like it achieves paying homage to Amando de Ossorio’s. I don’t think it has the ability to ignite that spark to bring a new generation of fans into a theater, much less a digital platform.

CAST: Aaron Stielstra, Alice Zanini, Francesca Pellegrini, Bill Hutchens, Jennifer Mischiati, & Micky Ray Martin. CREW: Director - Raffaele Picchio; Screenplay - Lorenzo Paviano & Raffaele Picchio, based on the Original Characters Created by Amando de Ossorio; Producer - Francesco H. Aliberti; Cinematographer - Alberto Viavattene; Editors - Luca Boni & Marco Ristori; Score - Andrea C. Pinna; Costume Designer - Anna Blum Fischer; Production Designer - Luciano Mancini; Special Effects Supervisor - Carlo Diamantini; Visual Effects Supervisor - Luca Boni/ OFFICIAL: N.A. FACEBOOK: N.A. TWITTER: N.A. RELEASE DATE: DVD and Digital March 2nd, 2021 TRAILER: https://youtu.be/l4NTINsZUKs **Until we can all head back into the theaters our “COVID Reel Value” will be similar to how you rate a film on digital platforms - 👍 (Like), 👌 (It’s just okay),  or 👎 (Dislike) Reviewed by Joseph B Mauceri

[yarnings]

You’ll Have to Excuse me... I’ve Been Gone for a Month

Merry Christmas! Have some None So Scots. This is my first fic on Tumblr that wasn’t for @gotham-ruaidh‘s writing workshop, so be nice (not really. I still want to hear if there’s a huge plot hole, or if there’s something you find really troubling). Gotham still gets the credit of course. Don’t blame her for the fact that this story really hasn’t been edited enough. I don’t have the patience to wait long enough to edit it properly, especially since I like the symmetry of posting Thanksgiving dinner right after Christmas, having posted Christmas dinner shortly after Thanksgiving.

Towards the end of September, James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser was lying in bed, in his apartment, browsing Macleans online, when his sister phoned him. Startled, he almost dropped his smartphone before answering.

“Hey Jenny, what’s up?”

“Nothing much, Jamie. I’m just calling to invite you to the farm for Thanksgiving dinner on the Sunday.”

Taken aback both by his sister’s tone and the invitation, he forgot about his resolution to keep his language at all times classroom appropriate.

“What the hell, Jenny? Since when do I need an invitation to eat Thanksgiving dinner at home?”

“How about since you moved out, and we’d like you to eat Thanksgiving dinner at Lallybroch with us?”

Jamie forced himself to take a deep breath and count to te-

“If you’re still willing to spend time with us, of course.”

-four. Four was a good number to count to.

“Janet. I know we discussed this during the summer. I’ve hardly moved out, I just have an apartment for during the week. Saves me from having to get up at 5:30 every morning.”

“Generally speaking, people who haven’t moved out, and are still planning on helping out around the farm, have spent more than one night since Labour Day at home.”

Breathing heavily (snorting, really) through his nose, Jamie ground out through his teeth “Perhaps this is a conversation we should be having in person, not over the phone. Since I apparently am expected to stay in the city next weekend, perhaps we can do it at Thanksgiving?”

“Can’t. You’re bringing a guest.”

“What do you mean I’m bringing a guest? Who might this guest be? Are they hiding under my bed? Nope, no one there.”

Jenny sighed heavily, the sound carrying through the phone’s speaker and filling the bedroom.

“Don’t be an arse. You know that mom’s doctor finally arrived? Mom invited her to come for Thanksgiving, since she obviously doesn’t have any family or even any friends here yet.” The new doctor wasn’t Ellen Mackenzie’s in the sense of Ellen being her patient. But when Jamie and Jenny’s mom had decided to start leaving more and more of the day-to-day running of the farm to Jenny and her husband Ian Murray, she hadn’t so much done less work as redirected the work she was doing. She had organised a physician recruitment committee, and directed it in the unusual direction of not trying to bring in a family doctor, but to hire a surgeon for the hospital. The committee’s work had succeeded, Ellen had managed to get all the visas in order, and the new surgeon had just arrived from England.

“I’ll send you the details about picking her up. And can I put you in charge of potatoes and cranberry sauce? We’ll do your usual pies for you, because they won’t travel well by car. The doctor is the only guest this year, so it’s us, mom, Murtagh and you in addition to her.” Barely giving Jamie time to confirm that he would bring the requested dishes, she hung up.

 When the alarm went off, Dr. Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp was lying on her new bed, not so much sleeping or even dozing as simply staring blankly at the opposite wall, exhausted and somewhat overwhelmed. Before this move she would have said that she was used to moving around a lot, and didn’t have any trouble adjusting to a new place. But this was her first time in a foreign country on her own, and to her surprise that made a big difference. Thankfully she didn’t have much to move; the household supplies that had been provided for her may very well have outnumbered her possessions. (Why on earth would anyone need that many pots? And three different vases? She was wondering if more than one recruitment committee member had taken it upon themselves to provide a full set of everything that they thought she might have left behind in Oxfordshire.)

She was feeling less and less certain about having accepted the invitation to dinner today. (“Well, we call it dinner, but it’s more of a combined lunch and dinner. We eat in the early afternoon. Come hungry.”) But at least it meant she wouldn’t have to cook. The takeaway options here were limited, and she didn’t feel like having to track down some groceries and cook for herself just yet. Putting on some nicer clothes and meeting some people was probably less work than that.

She stepped out the front door of the building just as a tall young man was approaching from visitor parking. He was a few years younger than her, approaching 2 metres, and had a head of red curls, just like Ms. Mackenzie had described her son.

“Dr. Beauchamp?” Unconsciously, Jamie shifted his accent towards a more international French, away from his usual, Canadian, pronunciation, in an attempt to impress the vision of loveliness in front of him.

“Je utilise la pronunciation anglais, c’est <<beech-am>>. Vous êtes M Fraser?” Claire blinked and realised what she had just said. “I’m so sorry, I’m a little tired and I guess I thought we were speaking French for a moment there. I was just saying that my name has a very English pronunciation – it’s ‘beech-am’.” Her accent sounded very cozy to Jamie. To his inexperienced ear it was neither working-class nor particularly posh, but beyond that he couldn’t tell. Not that he cared. All he knew was that it sounded perfect.

“Pas de problem. Je parle français aussi,” Jamie continued, switching to English, with a shy grin. “I teach the French stream for Primary – that’s the 5- and 6-year-olds – actually. It’s a change to be M Fraser to an adult instead of someone at waist height.” He waved at the car. “I’ve been told that you’re who Mom is dragging out to the farm for Thanksgiving this year. She delegated the dragging part to me though. Shall we?”

Claire walked to the door of the car, and only after opening it noticed the steering wheel.

“I’m sorry,” she said again. “I think I might be a bit jetlagged still.”

From where he was holding the passenger door open for her, Jamie grinned at her. “No worries. If you want to nap on the way I won’t tell on you.” As she came around the car, Claire looked at him with confusion.

“Wait, nap? I thought your mother lived close.”

“She’s not very far. It’s maybe a 45 minute drive.”

Claire’s eyes bugged out. “Bloody hell, that’s considered “not far”? I always thought that people were joking when they talked about distances here.” Jamie politely ignored her confusion, and walked around to the driver’s side to get into the car himself.

Despite the fact that she had never met him before, Claire found herself feeling surprisingly comfortable with Mr. Fraser, as if an instant friendship had sprung up in just the few sentences they exchanged. So comfortable, in fact, that in the companionable silence in the car she did end up dozing off. Reaching one-handed into the backseat, Jamie dug out an old plaid blanket he kept in the car for emergencies. Keeping one hand on the wheel and most of an eye on the road, he tucked it around her as they drove on.

During the drive to his family’s farm, Jamie kept stealing glances at the fascinating woman sitting in the seat next to him. Despite the popularity of holding Thanksgiving dinner on Sunday, traffic was light, allowing him this extended distraction. Apparently most people had either already done any travelling needed, or else were actually having Thanksgiving dinner on the day of. It occurred to Jamie that he probably should have asked around to see if any of his coworkers were on their own for the holiday, and maybe hosted a dinner on Monday. He mused on this for a while, enjoying the scenery outside the car almost as much as he enjoyed the scenery inside it. Eventually, he noticed that they were getting close to the end of the trip.

“Dr. Beauchamp? We’re almost there; you probably want to wake up now.” When she didn’t respond, he reached out and gently laid his hand on her shoulder. She started awake, and blinked at him.

“Lallybroch is just a few more minutes, I figured you probably wanted a bit of warning.” She screwed up her face, giving him a grimace that was probably intended to be a smile. They sat in silence for a few minutes, neither one wanting to shatter the fragile sense of intimacy that had grown out of her napping in his presence. But Claire’s curiosity got the better of her after a little bit.

“Lallybroch? That’s an interesting name.”

“It’s Scots Gaelic. Means ‘lazy tower’. My parents had to take the tower down for safety reasons when they bought the property, but they kept the name. Changing it would have been too many changes for the community to tolerate.”

Claire laughed at the mock-solemn look on Jamie’s face. “So you speak Gaelic as well as French then?”

“Not really. My mom has a fair bit more of it than I do. Some of her relatives, especially as they got older, weren’t very good in English, so she practiced it a lot. But knowing the name of the house you grew up in doesn’t take much.” As he explained this, Jamie smoothly turned off the road into the private drive, long practice letting him know where the rough parts where and how to avoid them.

When Jamie parked the car by the house and they got out, Claire insisted on helping him carry the food inside. “After all, you did the driving. I promise that I won’t try to take credit for it myself.” As they walked up to the door, Ellen opened it for them, saving Jamie from the dilemma of whether his sister would be more annoyed if he rang the bell (confirming that this was no longer home) or just walked right in (ignoring her accusation that he had moved out). It also saved him from having to decide whether he wanted to do the one that would annoy her more or the one that would annoy her less.

“Come in, come in!” Jamie’s mother called out, taking bowls from them and taking them into the kitchen. Arms free, Jamie and Claire took off their coats and shoes, leaving them by the door. Claire followed Jamie into what appeared to be the living room, where Ellen bustled out of a door that appeared to also lead to the kitchen.

“So nice to finally meet you in person, Dr. Beauchamp! I’m Ellen, as I’m sure you guessed.” She stuck out her hand to Claire. Her callused griped was firm, but she didn’t try playing any dominance games as she shook Claire’s hand.

““I really appreciate all the work you’ve put in to making my move here smooth. And it was so generous of you to invite me to your dinner. Oh, and please, call me Claire. And you too.” The last was directed to the room at large, starting with Jamie.

“Well then, I’m Jamie, Claire.” Jenny shot her brother a dark look at this, wordlessly saying You spent how long with this woman in a social setting and only now share your first name? She stepped forward, offering a handshake of her own.

“I’m Jenny, and this is my husband Ian, with our daughter Katherine” the tiny woman said, pointedly offering only first names as she gestured to the dark-haired man sitting in a plush chair, holding a baby who was industriously pulling at the bows in her dress in an attempt to remove them so she could eat them. Claire nodded to Ian, and cooed over Katherine. The last person in the living room, a wiry, somewhat disheveled man silently nodded at her.

“This is Murtagh Fraser. His grandmother was my late husband’s grandfather’s oldest sister, and he’s Jamie’s godfather. But close friend of the family might be a better description.” Claire shook Murtagh’s hand as she parsed the relationship.

“So you’re second cousins by marriage,” she said, pointing at Ellen and Murtagh. “And they’re his second cousins once removed,” pointing at Jenny and Jamie. Murtagh flashed her a quick grin, transforming his face for a brief instant. Claire had the feeling she had just passed some kind of obscure test.

Ellen invited Claire to take a seat, and almost immediately bustled back to the kitchen in response to a timer. She was followed by Jamie who wanted to check on the food he’d brought and it’s reheating, then Murtagh, who came back only to send Jenny in to confer with Ellen on the subject of turkey carving. Shortly afterwards Ellen herself returned, announcing that dinner was ready.

Once everyone was settled around the dinner table (except Katherine, who was playing with brightly coloured plastic in a playpen), Ellen said a prayer for the meal, and the feast began. In addition to Jamie’s cranberry sauce, the turkey was accompanied by gravy and a large dish of dressing (“And there’s more in the kitchen, so take as much as you want.”) There were rolls with butter, a green salad, Brussel sprouts and, to pair with the mashed potatoes, a dish of mashed rutabaga. This last caused some confusion, as none of the Cape Bretoners knew the name “swede” until Google was consulted for a picture. Claire found herself in a swirl of dishes being passed, leaving plates piled high with food in their wake. “If you need anything else, or want more of something, please, just ask.” Wine was poured, and water jugs placed out on the table, and everyone started to eat.

When Jenny had a half plate of food remaining, Katherine suddenly switched from happily entertaining herself to wailing. Jenny sighed, looking at her dinner and started to get up. Ian stopped her. “I’ll change her diaper first, you can have a bite more right now before you have to come in and nurse her.” He walked off into the house, carrying the crying baby.

Jenny took Ian’s advice and tucked into the food on her plate while it was still warm and she had company in her eating. Seeing the concern on Claire’s face, Ellen explained “Katherine isn’t fond of wet diapers. And she’s been up for a while, so she’s tired. Nothing’s actually wrong, she’s just not able to handle the discomfort. A dry diaper, a full belly and she’ll nap.” Claire smiled her thanks, not very used to interacting with small children, especially not healthy ones.

Once Jenny left to nurse Katherine, Ellen looked at Jamie and quietly said “Jamie, I’ve been wondering. You seem to be doing quite well in the city. How would you feel if moved into the granny flat, instead of you just storing your stuff there? You could have my old room as yours, so you wouldn’t need to be staying in a guest room every time you were home. And between Katherine, and the fact that you have your own place now, Jenny and Ian shouldn’t be having to live in my house. And it’s going to be my house unless I move out.” Not really having a choice, despite how his mother phrased things, and appreciating that she had waited until Jenny was out of the room to raise the issue, Jamie agreed.

“After dessert I’ll go see if there’s anything I want to take back with me today. But I can’t do anything about the majority of the books right now. Maybe I should come back tomorrow? Or I can come home after school. After all, I made the trip daily for a couple of years, I’m sure I can manage it for a few nights.” His mother raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’m not overly picky about it being done that quickly. Just so long as I don’t have to move all those books myself.” Jamie glared at his mother, but given the size of his personal library (at least the hard copy portion of it) he had no reasonable reply. Ian smirked a bit at this; having been recruited to help Jamie install the bookshelves, he was quite happy to have someone on his side about the excessiveness of the collection.

Murtagh grunted. “I’ll swing by the NSLC for you and grab some boxes. You might not be able to fit enough in your car if you do it yourself.” Ellen and Ian burst out laughing, and even Claire, who had been feeling slightly awkward while this not-quite-a-fight was going on snickered. Ian shot her a reassuring glance, understanding how she felt, as Jenny returned with a triumphant look on her face.

“Out like a light! Hopefully she’ll stay down, I never quite trust it when she falls asleep so quickly.” Fortunately Jenny’s worries proved to be unfounded, and the adults were able to enjoy the rest of the meal leisurely.

At the end of the meal, as the plates were being passed to Ellen to return to the kitchen, Claire offered another round of praise for the food.

“That was amazing. You’re all such good cooks. I’ve never had a meal like this one, and this was an amazing introduction.”

Jenny looked at Claire curiously. “I know that turkey is a New World food, and the cranberries, but the meal as a whole can’t have been that different from what English food is like.”

“I can’t really say, actually,” Claire replied. “We never really ate it. I was raised by my uncle, he was an archeologist. When we were out at one of his digs, he would hire a local cook. At home he tended towards curries. You have to remember that his generation grew up hating home cooking. He was 2 when food rationing started during the war, and 16 when it was fully lifted. So, once he got to choose, he stuck with a diet that didn’t resemble what he ate as a child.”

Ellen had grabbed the stack of plates to take to the kitchen. Claire grabbed a couple of serving dishes at random and followed her, to a disapproving shake of Murtagh’s head. In the kitchen, Ellen turned around and realised it was Claire who had helped out.

“Oh, Claire. You’re a guest, you didn’t need to do that. Here, I’ll take those. Why don’t you go and relax? I’ll have dessert out in a jiffy.” Claire rejoined the table in time for Jamie and Jenny to hop up with dishes to clear, leaving her at the mercy of the quiet members of the family. To her pleased surprise, Ian turned out to be perfectly capable of holding up his end of the conversation, as long as his wife and in-laws weren’t filling up all the spaces. Claire found herself immersed in his stories about shenanigans at Fort Mac. Before she knew dessert, in the form of pumpkin and apple pies, along with a bowl of freshly-whipped cream had appeared on the table.

“Would you like pumpkin or apple, Claire?” Ellen hovered her knife between two pies.

Seeing her indecision, Jamie leaned over to her and stage-whispered. “Both is generally an accepted answer.”

Claire blushed, but took Jamie’s advice. She felt less awkward when everyone except Murtagh (who asked for a larger piece of pumpkin instead) followed her lead. Unsure as to which pie she wanted to eat first and which one she wanted to save for last, she tried a bite of apple, followed by a bite of pumpkin, at which point she understood Murtagh’s logic. To her embarrassment, her appreciative moan was audible to everyone at the table. Even Jenny grinned at it.

“It appears that you’ve managed to make an acceptable substitute for my pie, Jenny.”

Claire ignored Jamie. “This is amazing. What do you put in it?”

“It’s a custard with pumpkin puree and basically mixed spice.” Jenny was quite proud of her knowledge of British culinary terms, and was thrilled to get an excuse to refer to mixed spice.

“Did you use my jar of spice mix, Jenny? Because if you did, there’s cardamom in there too.” Jamie was far less concerned with keeping his recipe secret than with taking credit for the pie’s success.

Not to be left out, Ellen piped up with her contribution. “And we used rum in the whipped cream instead of vanilla. Pairs much better with the pies that way.”

“Whatever it is you did, it’s great.”

Jamie and Jenny, however, weren’t listening, and kept verbally poking at each other for the duration of dessert, with the occasional comment from Ian and Ellen thrown in.

By the time the table was cleared again Jamie, who was still blaming his sister for the entirety of the argument over whether or not he’d moved out, as well as him having stayed in the city the last weekend and this one, realised that he was at a profound disadvantage from the assumption that Lallybroch was no longer “home”. Had it been agreed that he was living at Lallybroch, or even if he had been home for the weekend, he could have argued that someone else should drive Claire back, but as it was, clearly he was expected to drive back with her tonight. And, given that her nap in the car on the way here seemed to be wearing off, he really couldn’t join in the after-dinner drinks, as he would likely be making that trip soon. Irritated by this, he announced that he was going to his room to see what he could pack.

Jenny watched him leave with ill-concealed annoyance, and turned to Ellen, who was looking doubtful.

“It’s going to be so odd having an actual granny in the granny flat, eh mom?”

Ellen laughed. “Remember how upset Jamie got when we let him move out there in high school, but kept calling it the granny flat? He always said that since it was only him and Murtagh who had actually lived there that it should be the dude room.” She turned to Claire. “See, when Brian and I bought Lallybroch, pretty much every single building on the land was in disrepair. It ended up being cheaper to just tear them all down and replace them. Now, we were only able to afford the farm because the price was heavily discounted due to all these repairs. We were a bit tight for being able to rebuild everything. But we got lucky, and ended up with a budget – or rather something of a blank cheque – for building the house. Just the house mind you, so if we didn’t spend the money on it, it was gone. So we made sure there was everything we wanted. And after we had all the rooms I was willing to clean, we decided in a fit of optimism to add on a granny flat. We intended it as such, and always called it that, even when it was a glorified guest room, or an apartment for family who needed a place to stay. So Jenny’s right, when I move in will be the first time that the granny flat is used as such. Oh, can I get you some more wine?”

Claire looked down at this apparent non-sequitur, and realised that she had indeed finished her wine without noticing. Hmmm. Not a good sign if she was tired enough to not notice that she was drinking. While she had nothing against enjoying a few drinks on occasion, she was aware that there was a strong correlation between how much she had had to drink, and how much more blunt she got. And given that her usual tendency towards bluntness was exacerbated by being tired, too tired to notice how much she was drinking was not a good situation with people she didn’t know well, and really wanted to stay on the good side of. (Aside from lingering worries about making a good impression on Ellen, Claire found herself very much enjoying the company of the family, and held some vague hopes of seeing them socially again.)

Much to her relief, Jamie re-entered the room. They caught each other’s eyes, and spoke simultaneously.

“Jamie, I’m sorry, but I think…”

“I can take you back anytime you need, Claire. Let me know”

Murtagh let out a chuckle as Jamie and Claire paused to figure out what the other had said.

“Thank you so much Jamie. I don’t mean to take you away from your family, but the trip and time change are catching up with me.”

“No worries. I’ll probably come back later tonight or tomorrow anyhow.”

“That will make Katherine happy,” interjected Jenny. “She always likes to see you.” Jamie grinned at this, being as enamoured with his tiny niece as his mother was, and taking the olive branch from his sister for what it was.

A few minutes later, Jamie was backing out of the driveway. His leftovers were still in the kitchen, except for those parts of them that had ended up in the bundle of food his mother had handed to Claire as they were heading out the door.

Despite her fatigue, she stayed awake for the trip this time, chatting easily with Jamie, and watching the scenery out the windows. She found him more than able to share what he knew of local history, answering all the questions she had, and offering up the occasional tidbit of his own.

For his part, Jamie didn’t want the drive back to end. He found himself genuinely enjoying the time he was spending with Claire, and to his surprise was even happy that he had to do the return trip, as it meant he got more time with her all to himself. He enjoyed getting to share his knowledge with her, and as the trip back to the city wound to a close, he found himself more and more thinking of his father’s words, that when he found the right woman for him, there would be no questions, he would just know.

Next

[leggigoesabroad]

we were staying in paris to get away from our parents

Lyric from “Paris” by the Chainsmokers.  We (Rach and I) used to love the Chainsmokers until we found out they were trash humans who cheated on their girlfriends with no remorse, and instead we’ve followed the ex-girlfriends loyally since the breakups.  Also, HAPPY BIRTHDAY CARY!! It’s 11:23 am here in Paris on Cinco de Mayberger and I wish I was in Philly holding that muffin and celebrating our girl, but hopefully I can be soon.  

I really shouldn’t be blogging right now because I’m sitting in a super cool cafe that is meant for working and co-working and I’m paying to be here, so I shouldn’t waste my paid time on blogging... but hey, I’m waiting for my Adderall to kick in and also I think this is the coolest concept ever.  It’s a super cozy space and you pay for the length of time you’re here.  It’s a little expensive but I have no sense of responsibility anymore.  It’s 5 euro an hour and that gets you access to the wifi, convenient plugs everywhere, and an all-inclusive self-serve tea and coffee bar.  I think it’s kind of genius!!  There’s snacks, bread, nutella, all kinds of tea, coffee, etc.  Takes away all the stress of posting up at a coffee shop for hours and wondering how much you need to buy to make yourself feel okay about using their space all day.  Kitty and I are personally very passionate about rental businesses/unlimited concepts like this, and I’m making a mental note to tell her about this so we can open one at home.  There’s a chance Americans wouldn’t go for it, but I think at the right price it’d be dope.  Of course, it basically reminds me of a bottomless brunch, and I’m pre-panicked I won’t get my money’s worth.  What if we served mimosas at our place, Kitty?!  Interesting.  I wish it wasn’t 3:30 am in Breck right now so we could discuss this.  

Last I left off I was on the train to Paris.  Vienna and Prague genuinely feel like years ago.  Such a weird trip, start to finish.  Not the kind I’d design on my own, but not NOT... just odd to be here mostly alone without a plan and kind of figuring it out as I go.  Not my style.  I got into Gare de L’est in Paris and figured out the Metro to Angie and Adam’s place around 7 pm.  Their 7-month-old is very French and goes to bed around 9:30 pm, so we bonded right away and she instantly took to me.  They tell me she’s mostly like that with all strangers, but I feel I’m special to her.  She cries when I leave the room!!  I had to sneak out to the cafe this morning because she was bawling when I went to my room after saying good morning to her.  Sweet angel.  Her name is “Thea” but they exclusively call her “Doodle” and it reminds me of our muff.  We ended up just hanging out all night on their couch and catching up, and then they got some pizzas and pasta from the place across the street for dinner and I ate All Of It.  The French don’t fuck around with their food (she says, shoving a shortbread cake coated in Nutella in her mouth between keystrokes.)  Had a bottle of wine and we stayed up until 1 am or so, just so lovely.

I woke up Saturday morning and braved what was admittedly freezing rain to walk to the local bakery Angie suggested.  Since they live right next to the Luxembourg Gardens I also popped in there, as it reminds me of the photo Amy and I took sitting on the fountain mirroring each other, back in January 2011.  I captioned it “The City of Love and Weight Gain” and steel trap Amanda remembered that ever since and recently posted a pic with the same caption, smh, she’s incredible.  Learned on this morning walk that my right black boot had worn through the sole, so my foot got soaked and I felt that “squidge squidge” with each step... so fun.  Went to the bakery and had a panic attack leading up to the order as I rehearsed what I was going to say in my head a million times over.  Eventually spit out “Je voudrais... trois croissants....deux pain au chocolat... et un baguette....s’il vois plait....” and to the girl’s credit, she didn’t immediately transfer to English upon hearing how painfully transparently American I sounded, and gave me the total in French!  I obviously had blacked out and couldn’t hear her, but the total was displayed on the cash register, so I paid and survived.

After lazing around a bit the rest of the morning, we all packed up and went across town to a Scottish bar that was playing the Tottenham game that Adam was interested in.  I love sports so I was happy to go, but man, soccer is dumb.  At one point one guy got a red card for lightly shoving a player after the play, and I almost burst out laughing at how that move disqualified him from that game and the next game, whereas in hockey that’s literally encouraged and we tally how many hits per game a player has.  Our friend Aaron came to join us!!  So good to see him, I think the last time I saw him was December 2016 right after I had moved to Denver and he was passing through town.  I remember specifically because I showed him my apartment, that first one in Uptown next to Kitty, and it was completely empty.  Back when I glamped all day.  He’s near fluent in French now and I find it attractive.  

We all went to an ex-pat bar after that and met up with Adam’s English co-worker and her friend who I found enchanting.  They’re both from Brighton and were just lovely, interesting, funny women.  We talked a little bit about the differences between England vs. the States and they said, “one thing we’ve always wanted to know - why do you have those huge gaps in the doors between your public bathrooms? You can practically see inside!” I said “I honestly have no idea and we all hate it too.  Ask me something else I can answer!!!”  We drank there for a while until Angie took Thea home because she was starting to get a little under the weather and fussy, and Aaron had a weird reaction to his IPA and immediately lost his voice.  Adam went home to Angie, and Angie’s niece who had just come in asked if I wanted to get dinner.  To be honest, I did not want to get dinner.  She is a little odd for a 30-year-old female and I didn’t have any idea what we were going to talk about.  Spoiler: I was correct.  She’s the kind of person who just won’t respond if she isn’t interested in what you have to say.  So we’d be walking along chatting, and I’d say something, and she’d just be silent.  Laaa dee daaa... she also lived in Versailles in college and is also fluent in French, and knew her way around very well, so I unintentionally just felt dumb and patronized.  We stopped at a place she wanted to go to for “authentic French cuisine”, blech, and I just got an omelette.  The menu was all in French and luckily I mostly knew what I was reading, but she didn’t even lightly offer to translate. Ha.  She eventually got more approachable and bubbly when we started talking about dating and her boyfriend and the online dating scene.  After dinner, to her credit, she thanked me for agreeing to dinner with her and humoring me on the choice of restaurant and walking together.  So maybe she’s just one of those people who doesn’t emote well but is kind and appreciative on the inside.  Walked home and went to sleep, again in silence.

Woke up intermittently and kept checking the Phillies’ score in the middle of the night, only to see a very sad ending... sigh.  At least Rhys and Bryce looked hot AF.  Angie and Adam are Nats fans but admittedly love both Rhys and Bryce.  I showed Adam the press conference of Bryce thanking Ned as a part of his signing, and Adam was THOROUGHLY impressed, so that made it all worth it.

Going to stay at this cafe for several hours and try to give Angie and Adam some space, as Angie thinks she and Thea are getting sick and I don’t want to impose more than I already have.  I may walk to the 6th later to visit the Hotel Raphael, Hotel Majestic, and the Peninsula; as ER has places in each of them and it would be amazing to see them firsthand.  Usually people on-site are very kind to me when I just pop in and say I work for ER, because it’s in their best interest to show me good service so I highly recommend them to my members.  Maybe I’ll splurge and have a cocktail or a short massage at the world-famous Peninsula hotel!!  TBD, the day is young.  For now, hopefully I accomplish my freelance work so I’m not a miserable jet-lagged shrew next week.  Wish me luck!! 

[chineselanguageblog]

To Learn Chinese

So you wanna know where to start when learning Chinese, or how to gain momentum and push through to fluency? Read on, dear reader…

Despite being only a mere mortal like yourself (in that I am not yet fluent in Chinese, - but it is only a matter of time) I am quite experienced in learning languages and have developed strategies and techniques that have saved me literally hours, days, months, maybe even years. These I will share with you today, so that you may learn from my past mistakes and less time studying and more picking up Chinese chicks!

Mentality

Okay, so, if I could impart only one thing on you it would be that confidence is half the battle.

If you spend too much time worrying about whether you will ever reach fluency, firstly, that is time you will not be spending injecting Chinese into your brain, but secondly, and most importantly, it will become a sort of self-fulfilling prophecy – you won’t enjoy the process, will associate Chinese with stress and essentially never become fluent.

This ‘blind faith’, as an atheist, is something that doesn’t come naturally to me. But you really have no choice but to take my word for it that if you:

Put in the time (listening, writing and, eventually, speaking)

Enjoy yourself

Believe you will become fluent

Then fluency is an inevitable result.

“But, Chinese is such a hard language compared to French or Spanish!”

Don’t get sucked into this idea.

Chinese is not harder, Chinese is just far more different to English than most European languages are. Plenty of Westerners have managed to tame the beast. Off the top of my head, take Steve Kaufmann or Luca Lampariello, for example.

In fact, I would argue that Chinese is actually objectively easier and more logical than any other language I’ve come across (with the exception of Chinese characters – logical in theory, but struggle city in practice for anyone trying to learn it who doesn’t use it every day).

Consider these things:

1, Rather than having completely separate words for related concepts, one character in Chinese will represent a ‘concept’ that will manifest itself in a huge number of multi-syllable words, ie: 工 (gōng) – representing the idea of ‘work’, present in other words such as 工作 (to work), 工厂(factory/plant), 工地 (workplace), 工匠 (craftsman), 工力 (craftsmanship), 工业 (industry), the list goes on.

2, No conjugations. No tenses. No cases. No plurals. No gender. Therefore, no memorising ‘je peux, tu peux, il peut, nous pouvons’. ‘Nuff said.

3, No long words – say goodbye to ‘anticonstitutionnellement’, ‘Unkameradschaftlichkeit’ and ‘electroencefalografistas’.

I could go on for ages about how simple and logical Chinese really is. Also, don’t be afraid of tones. They can be learned naturally through extensive listening.

Approach

Although the sometimes vicious debate present amongst the language learning community would have you believe otherwise (I’m looking at you, Steve and Benny), there is no hard-and-fast rule to language learning. What works for some may work for others. What seems to be unanimous is that a lot of input in the form of listening and reading is needed at some stage, with output (speaking) following either once a good level of comprehension has been achieved or from the start, in addition to input.

Here is what I would advise for those beginning their Chinese studies, and for those already on the path.

Beginners

Learning Chinese can be struggle city. But only if you don’t have fun while you’re doing it!

1, Get some materials. Textbooks are okay, as long as they have dialogs with a recorded version. If you’ve got the dough, ChinesePod is great.

2, Do a significant amount of input (reading and listening) with this beginner material. This is the hard bit, where the language gradually becomes less ‘foreign’ – in other words, you get used to the language. To make rapid progress, try to dedicate at least 30 minutes a day (an hour is better).

3, Work the language into your life. I’m not really an advocate of ignoring your friends and family who don’t speak the language, or listening to the language while you’re talking to them and while you sleep (per AJATT), or changing the language on your computer and phone into Chinese - this is too annoying for me. Instead, make use of dead time. Do you daydream on the train/bus? Now you listen to Chinese. Do you wait in lines? Now you listen to Chinese while you wait in lines. Do you walk the dog? Paint your house? Daydream? Listen to Chinese while you do these things. You’ll see how easy it is. I would estimate that the average person has about 1-2 hours a day of dead time, this meaning time they do NOTHING else. If you studied Chinese only in the time you otherwise would be wasting, you will see massive progress. Now imagine if you fit some Chinese into your free time, too?

4, Two words. Mini goals. Learn 30 words a week, and then step it up after a couple of weeks. Listen to 30 minutes of Chinese a day – then step it up to an hour incrementally. I’m soon to write an entire post over on my own blog dedicated to explaining the importance of mini goals.

5, Characters. Forget about them for the first month. After that though, they are important. Spend 15 minutes a day learning them. Although it may seem tedious, it’s worth learning the radicals first, or as you encounter them – this will enable you to quite accurately guess new characters later on.

6, Get an SRS. Do your reps daily, and add sentences whenever you can. Also, I’ve found sentences are better than words, as you learn grammar and new vocabulary simultaneously – it also seems much less boring than just drilling single words. If you have the option/can be bothered, add sentences with audio so you don’t get a botchy pronunciation (or just do a lot of listening). Where to get sentences? Mine them from the dialogs in your textbook, from ChinesePod, wherever. Just make sure they are correct!

Intermediate Learners

1, Enjoy. This is the best part of the language learning journey. The language is starting to become familiar, and you can start doing fun stuff in the language! Like, watching TV shows from YouKu (the Chinese version of YouTube, but with full episodes) and actually understanding them! Or, reading authentic, interesting content and books. Or making friends, or…

2, Get a girlfriend/boyfriend. Now this may be a difficult and in some circumstances unethical task (if you are just using them to practice your 中文). The truth is, that at the intermediate level you need to actually increase the amount of input you’re getting in the language in order to step it up and push through to the advanced level. At the very least, get some friends! If you live in a cultural melting pot (like my own city, Melbourne, or like, NYC, etc) then you should have no problem meeting Chinese people. Or go study overseas (this may not be practical for you – but if you’re at Uni, go on exchange like I am!) Or, hey, why not get some Chinese roomies? Instant friends that have to hang with you!

3, Everyday. Even more important than in the beginner stage, at this level you need to be having contact with the language every day in order to incorporate it into your psychic. This is because the language needs to become part of the fabric of your mind, which is just not possible if you only study on the weekend. There’s a saying that goes ‘learn a language and gain another soul’. This is because you develop a borderline personality disorder when you learn another language – you will find your thinking and personality will be heavily influenced by cultural elements of the target language.

4, Don’t give up. At this point, you have got it in the bag! The hard yards are almost over. Like I said, this is the best part, it is all downhill from here. You don’t have to agonise over mind numbingly boring hospital-grade artificial learning materials, and can get onto some juicy stuff. It’s simply a matter of continuing to consistently expose yourself to the language, and talk as much as possible. Language acquisition is a natural process, and we are inherently good at it by virtue of being human. Just don’t stress, it will come!

Anyway, that’s all from me, for now.

There is an abundance of resources out there to help learn Chinese, yet it can all be very confusing and time-consuming for the new student to find the best way and the right materials to help.s

Wanting to provide some assistance to students, at one of the regular meetings of the Learn Mandarin Now team, we decided to commission a survey to find out the preferred methods savvy, modern, Chinese language students use. After some thought on how to do this, we agreed to ask 50 or so top bloggers what resources they use to get ahead with learning Chinese - after all…, they should know!

Just who did we ask?

Actually, we asked a wide cross-section of people including teachers of Chinese, native speakers, new and experienced students of the language (both Chinese from overseas and foreign students) and, of course, top bloggers.

The aim: to get a wide variety of opinions and suggestions.

The top 10 recommendations

For reasons such as ease of being able to study whenever the student wanted to and the variety of options on offer, the results, perhaps not surprisingly, showed that the preferred methods to learn Chinese are primarily web based. Other students, however, still preferred to learn and practice with other students or people in their day-to-day lives or via hard copy items such as books.

With 42% of votes Pleco, an integrated Chinese-English dictionary/flashcard system, which not only allows students to learn via Smartphones, but also offers a variety of other features such as being able to look up unknown Chinese words ‘live’, came out on top.

22% of respondents went for human interaction, either learning or practicing with Chinese friends, girlfriends, boyfriends, work colleagues or via other social interaction with native Chinese speakers.

Multi-media captured 20% of the votes, and this included watching Chinese TV programs, dramas, documentaries or movies, or even listening to Chinese songs in order to listen to tones, and learn more common words and colloquial phrases.

The MDBG Dictionary, a comprehensive dictionary which offers the ability to look up a huge number of words in Chinese, Pinyin or English was also a popular choice-easy to use and readily available and it garnered 14% of the votes.

Both also polling 14% were:

(i) WeChat (Weixin), “the new way to connect with friends across platforms”, offering voice and group chat, free calls, video calls and the obligatory message stickers, and thereby especially popular with the younger generation looking to instantly chat in and learn Chinese; and

(ii) Anki, a spaced repetition software programme which makes remembering things easy. As it’s considered more efficient than traditional study methods, time spent studying can be decreased or the amount learned greatly increased. The programme is content-agnostic and supports images, audio, videos and scientific mark-ups.

Skritter which is suitable for Smartphones or PC’s and allows the student to learn how to correctly learn to write Chinese characters—even suggesting corrections to any mistakes if they appear, scored 12%, as did Memrise which offers a wide variety of on-line courses and aims to make learning joyful and exciting.

Rounding off the top 10 with 8% was Line Dict, a very useful on-line Chinese dictionary which translates both words and phrases from Chinese to English and vice-versa, using Chinese characters and Pinyin—plus offering handwriting recognition and the ability to view stroke orders for characters, and also Chinese Pod which promotes itself as a site offering “Chinese learning for busy people”, with over 3,000 short, self-contained, award-winning lessons.

It was both exciting and rewarding for us at Learn Mandarin Now to do this survey and we may well repeat it at some future date. If you’d like to know more about the results in detail you can also read: How to learn Chinese: great tips from 50+ top bloggers, one of our other related articles.

Happy learning!

[secretradiobrooklyn]

May Day Edition | 5.1.21

Secret Radio | 5.1.21 | Hear it here.

1. Zia - “Helel Yos”

This song has been in our heads in a big way the last few weeks. Zia was my first exposure to pre-revolutionary Iranian rock  — sometimes called “psych rock,” though I can’t tell if that’s a designation he would make himself. But to be fair, I have no idea what he’s going for. Nonetheless, those little whistles he does get under my skin and into my brain. I wake up in the morning singing “helel yoza, hella hella helel yoza”… This is from the late ‘60s, I believe. The whole album (also called “Helel Yos”) is pretty excellent, and includes the song “Khofrium” from our last broadcast. A recent favorite and highly recommended.

2. Shin Joong Hyun - “Pushing through the Fog” 

Somehow stumbled on this collection of South Korean music, and it has been mesmerizing. Shin Joong Hyun is a great example of something I love discovering over and over again: someone working within a language and a genre, but also expressing a completely unique personal style that extends beyond those general qualities and into startling specifics. This song is from “Beautiful Rivers and Mountains: The Psychedelic Rock Sound of South Korea’s Shin Joong Hyun 1958-74,” which blows my mind, because the tones, and especially the bass and drums, sound so completely of the moment. It’s sold out at Light In The Attic’s store, so we’ll be keeping our eyes out for it in the wild, because these are going to be some crucial liner notes. The brief version on their site describes him as a guitarist, songwriter, producer, arranger, and talent developer. He began by performing for US troops in Korea post active war time, became a bewitching guitarist and songwriter, then started producing other bands in the region, and a string of hits developed. It sounds like his story includes a really harsh period of intrusion and disruption by the government… but as far as I can tell he survived to the current day, and even helped oversee this collection.

3. The Traces - “Je t’aime moi non plus” - “Thai Beat A Go Go Vol 2”

Ummm… I would LOVE to know what words they’re singing. This chummy Thai version of Gainsbourg’s super sensual “Je t’aime, moi non plus” is such a weird listening experience. I think one of the singers is either drunk or hearing the song for a first or second pass. What are they saying?!

4. Annie Philippe - “On m’a toujours dit”

I really love the energy and style of this track and many of the Annie Philippe songs I’ve heard, which makes it aggravating that the first thing one finds online in English about Philippe is a condescending, limp writeup on her by Richie Unterberger that tries its best to ignore how delightful her voice is and how pleasurable the arrangements are — luckily the dude mentions that Paul Mariat worked on her albums, who also arranged Charles Aznavour. I love the florid colors of French pop from the ‘60s with hothouse arrangements and wide-flung voices. The ebullient drums and electric guitar, the confident harmonies and tucked in little organ and horn licks are all pure joy.

5. T.P. Orchestre Poly-Rythmo de Cotonou - “Houton Kan Do Go Me” 

While we were in the Illinois woods we received some very welcome records from Germany’s Analog Africa label which included “The Skeletal Essences of Afro-Funk,” a collection of songs by pretty much our favorite band in the world, T.P. Orchestre. These songs that explore some of the facets of the band that “Echoes Hypnotique” and “The Vodoun Effect” — both gorgeous, keystone records — hadn’t gotten to yet. The language is Fon, the style is Jerk, and the composer (though not the singer, I think) is Bentho Gustave, T.P.’s bassist. pretty sure the singer is Lohento Eskill.

- Hailu Mergia & The Walias - “Musicawi Silt”

The Walias is the band that Hailu Mergia was in when he first came to America. I seem to remember a story that they were disappointed with the trip, went home to Ethiopia and broke up, but Mergia stayed and kept developing his keyboard style, which did a few decades later (!) actually win him wide recognition and acclaim. This is some of his earlier work, not in the director’s seat, and you can hear so much of Mergia’s style woven into the band’s arrangements. I love how it sounds like he’s just playing pure electric current — it barely sounds like an organ to me, more like uncut groove tone.

6. “Newsies” clip

In celebration of May Day, we present this inspiring tale of unions forming in the streets of New York. 

7. Sexe a Pile - “Pas Méchant”

Another recent record score, this one from our other most favorite label, Born Bad Records in France: “Paink: French Punk Anthems 1977-1982.” One thing I love about this song is that the chorus always makes me think of “High Class” by the Buzzards, a song that never got nearly enough love as far as I’m concerned.

8. The Replacements - “Customer”

Dave got me thinking about the Replacements and before I knew it we were deep into “Sorry Ma, Forgot to Take Out the Trash.” So wild and loose and pissed off and sincere the whole time. You can really hear Westerberg yearn to be great but also sneer at himself for taking something seriously. It used to sound so unhinged to me but now it has become an album about being young and scared of yourself 

9. Plearn Promdan - “Ruk Kum Samong”

Well, this was something we didn’t see coming — the Thai music we’ve heard up to now has been more ’50s influenced. It sounds like a four-piece rock band surrounded by a drum circle. This is part of what’s apparently known as Luk Thung underground. There’s been some very good stuff so far, I look forward to finding out more. 

10. T.P. Orchestre - “Azanlokpe”

I got a little obsessed with T.P. Orchestre for a while there, and was trying to listen to every single recording that Discogs offered — which is a LOT, because they were super prolific. This is one of my favorite finds so far. I wish I could say which singer this is; it was noted as Melome Clément but I don’t think that’s him. So many talented people in this band!

11. Francis Bebey - “Super Jingle”

Francis Bebey contains multitudes. I’m pretty sure he records all of these parts himself. I think he’s just a master of rhythm — all of the instruments weave a tapestry that he can then cavort upon. The body of the song is so hypnotizing, the lead so akimbo. 

12. Dalida - “J’ai revé”

One of the highlights of the 2017 St. Louis International Film Fest was the biopic of her life. This is early Dalida. As far as Paige understands, she’s the French Lady Gaga for people who were clubbing in the ’70s and ’80s. The story of her life has some really sad shit, but this take on Bobby Darin’s “Dream Lover” is full of life.

- “Newsies” reprise

Radical sincerity sometimes requires references to musicals.

- Petch Pintong - “Soul Lum Piern”

I love this track and know nothing about it except that it was collected on “Thai Beat A Go Go Vol 4.” Those collections have turned out to be full of riches!

13. Atomic Forest - “Obsession ’77 (Fast)”

OK, these guys seem really interesting. They’re an Indian psych-funk band, which was apparently totally unheard of there, and they only released a single album — and that one only after they broke up. Because that album is full of great stuff, most notably (at least to me) this track, their story is almost too perfectly suited to the obsessions of vinyl collectors worldwide. Now-Again Records re-released the album in 2011, and we ran across it just a couple months ago. I really enjoy the sense of narrative in the song — what’s happening in the foreground keeps evolving and remaining legitimately interesting.

14. Metak - “Da Mi Je Biti Morski Pas”

I’m proud to say that these dedicated rockers are Croatian, and this track from 1980 rocks like a seafoam T-top Stingray. This is from a 7” with “Rock’n’Roller” on the flip.

15. Mai Lan - “Les Huîtres”

Paige found this amazing playlist on Spotify years ago, and this is finally the way she started getting into more contemporary French music. It sounds like she’s from a musical and artistic French-Vietnamese family. “Les Huîtres” is from around 2008. Kind of feels like 

16. VIS Idoli - “Maljciki”

We found a video of this Yugoslavian ska while looking for something else entirely. I did learn that this is political ska, and that they were frowned upon by the government. One account has them being indulged by the government; another has them under threat of punishment. I do love knowing that ska is a political form and not just a genre. I have no idea how they would feel about the Croatian rockers a few tracks back, and I hope none of them did any harm to one another other during the terrible ‘90s. 

17. Para One, Arthur Simonini - “La Jeune Fille en Feu” - “Portrait of a Woman on Fire” score

Did you see “Portrait of a Woman on Fire”? We highly recommend it, for a lot of reasons but definitely for the passage of this song. It sounds great here, but at night, by firelight, with all the nuns and farmwomen on the island? 

18. The Space Lady - “Ghost Riders in the Sky”

- Sleepy Kitty - “Western Antagonist Reflection”

19. Mikyas Chernet - “Ziyoze”

Marc, this is the song I was talking about stepping into the Teddy Afro position. It’s definitely not the same, but you can hear the modern Ethiopian pop feel running through it. It helps that I first heard it while picking up an order from our favorite Ethiopian in STL, which is also where we first heard Teddy Afro. The dancers are on POINT in the video, and they’re rockin a couple of new styles that I hadn’t seen yet.

20. Nazir Ali - “Lad Pyar Aur Beti”

Listen to the giant smiles in their voices! This is from a very recent compilation. That female voice has to be Nahid Aktar, or at least it sounds just like her; I think the protagonist-sounding male voice is Ali’s. There is a brief appearance from that Oscar the Grouch-sounding guy from last episode’s Aktar song. It’s so cool how the song shifts into new mode after new mode as it goes. 

21. Nathalie - “L’Amour Nous Repond”

22. The Fall - “L.A.”

This period of The Fall is surely our favorite — wherever Brix E. went, the songs were great. And now, with vaccines coursing through our systems, we can feel our thoughts casting their way to LA and San Francisco…

23. Akaba Man & The Nigie Rokets - “Ta Gha Hunsimwen” 

Analog Africa’s most recent release is “Edo Funk Explosion Vol. 1,” with tracks from the late ‘70s and ‘80s in Nigeria’s Benin City. Akaba Man is described as “the philosopher king of Edo funk.” The whole album is full of good tracks that only get better with repeated listens. This one has a bed of sounds that could happily go on for hours or days.

24. Gérard Manset - “Entrez dans le rêve”

Paige: “If you ever want to hear Lou Reed sing in French, this is the best we’re gonna get.” 

- Johnny Guitar - “Bangkok by Night”

We heard the “Shadow Music of Thailand” album a while back but haven’t dipped into it for too long. This Santo & Johnny style reverbed-out dream of the ‘50s lives eternally in Thai psych guitar.

25. David Bowie - “When I Live My Dream”

We do not condone the killing of any species of dragon, and I can only trust that neither dragon nor giant was harmed in the making of this fantasy.

[inrainbowz]

Annual Writing Self-Evaluation

*All answers should be about works published in 2017.

I wasn’t tagged by anyone ‘cause I have No Friends but I saw that going around and wanted to reflect (and gloat ‘cause I’m proud)

1. List of works published this year: Well I was productive so let’s go! (they’re here btw)

Shadowhunters fandom: 7 OS, 1 three-part fic and 12 or 13 chapters of that long-WIP I started in ‘16

BnHA fandom: a new one I stumbled into late in the year. I wrote a long WIP and published 8 parts of an AU since mid-november x)

Kaamelott fandom (french): I decided out of the blue to finally watch the two finale seasons an proceeded to spill 3 OS in rapid succession

Plus a Merlin OS as a Christmas Fanfic Exchange and an OS Xover Stranger Things/X-Men. I also worked on my originals but didn’t publish anything.

For a total of 288 870 words written and 195 914 words published!

2. Work you are most proud of (and why):

I have to say my BnHA Canon Rewrite. It’s the first time I take up on a work like this where I try to reinterpret the canon and fuel it with a bunch of OCs and the reaction have been amazing so yeah.

3. Work you are least proud of (and why):

I don’t know? If I published it, I liked it so...  Maybe my Malec WIP cause I’m neglecting it lately... Shame on me

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

Un extrait en français d’une de mes fics Kaamelott que j’aime beaucoup:

« J'aurais donnée n'importe quoi pour rester tu sais, pour pas te laisser tout seul. Je suis désolé. » « Pourquoi tu t'excuses ? C'était de ma faute. » « Mais non Arturus. Tu méritais pas ça. » Arhtur émit un rire sans joie qui lui secoua douloureusement la poitrine.« Le mérite, le mérite... Le mérite, ça existe pas. Si y'a bien un truc que je retiendrais de ce bordel, c'est ça. Y'a la chance, y'a le hasard, y’a la poudre aux yeux, mais le mérite a rien à voir là-dedans. » « Moi je pense pas. Je pense que tu mérites de vivre. » « Et pourquoi est-ce que je mériterais pas de mourir ? »

And in english, let’s have one that I like because I found myself funny, from a Malec Arranged Marriage AU:

He dropped to one knee. Alec looked mildly horrified, staring at Magnus like he had grown a second head. Magnus tried not to laugh.

“Alexander Alec Lightwood, those seven minutes we have spent together have been the most magical times of my long life. I can’t imagine us being apart now, and I hope you’ll agree. Alexander Alec Lightwood, would you make your parents and my superiors the happiest people in existence and accept to marry me?”

The boy rolled his eyes but he was clearly amused too. The others weren’t – his parents looked ready to burst and Catarina was shaking her head with a resigned expression. The Lightwood girl looked entertained at least. He winked at her and she stifled a laugh – that was a small win. He locked gaze with the boy who sighed deeply and waited enough time for it to be awfully awkward and for Magnus’s knee to hurt.

“If I must,” he finally breathed out.

The collective sigh of relief told Magnus that he hadn’t been the only one they expected to ruin it all. He jumped back to his feet with the widest smile possible and turned to the Lightwood parents.

“He said yes!” he exclaimed with a fake delighted tone. Maryse and Robert didn’t dignify this with an answer.

5. Share or describe a favorite comment you received:

@bhairoo reviewed almost all the chapters as she went through my Malec WIP and was so nice and cool it made me start on the next chapter after being stuck for weeks.  TeraBum also left amazing compliments on that fic, very uplifting. Kyotokiki makes hilarious recaps of some bits of chapters in my bnha fics and I had a long exchange about that fic in the comments with Merlenyn that was really cool! I also like people crying, screaming or cursing me, it means a job done right.

6. A time when writing was really, really hard:

I’m a machine and dumb as a brick so I never ask myself any questions, so writing is never hard. Writing on what I’m supposed to write on is the problem x) my main problem this year was that I wrote to much fanfic when I should have been working on my novel.

7. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

All those OCs I work into my bnha fanfic. How did I dare to that. That was wild.

8. How did you grow as a writer this year:

I started writing on very long works where I usually stick to OS and short stories, so I had to kick myself into making some sort of planning in order not to get lost.

9. How do you hope to grow next year:

I hope I’ll write even more and manage to wrap up said long works, and I hope I’ll make my debuts in the pro writing words...

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

@dupond-and-dupont as always, who listens to my rambling even for fandoms she knows nothing about, corrects my original works and is always there when I’m doubting myself. And @tried-being-normal who scolds me every day to write less fanfic and more novel XD (I wrote this post on my free time I swear!)

11. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

That AU with Magnus stranded in a foreign airport and Alec trying to help him despite the language barrier is full of real-life anecdotes ^^

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

Just write. Writing is cool. Keep writing to save your soul.

13. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

Well, I don’t know if my fanfics will be finished this year, but my main big objectives is to finish my novel. Well. That’s scary.

14. Tag five writers/artists whose answers you’d like to read.

@dupond-and-dupont even if she never answers these stuff XD I don’t really know whose an active writer around here actually... @real-life-sucks-ass, @andersandrew, @ any of you, be free

[superblyqualityfart-c579926f]

After a heavenly sleep, I woke to soft knocking at my door. My butler Aditya wished me a cheerful good morning as he set up my breakfast table. I went out to my balcony to survey the port we had just pulled into. Martinique is somewhere I had been curious about for ages. The hot sun was already beaming and it was only 8am! I made a mental note to remember sunscreen and a big floppy hat.

Breakfast was delicious french toast, grilled fruit, real maple syrup, and a healthy green drink. I was impressed that they had delivered me the morning Canadian news. Just one of those extra touches that make one feel special.

After a slow breakfast, I made my way down to the gangway. Even though it was 9am, the area was quiet and void of any other guests. I am so used to lining up and being corralled like cattle to get off and on a cruiseship. In fact that is one of the reasons I sometimes don’t get off! This cruise was completely different. Because there are so few passengers (300) there are never lines for anything. To be able to saunter off whenever without so much as a 10-second wait is luxurious. They even give a chilled water bottle as you walk off so you don’t forget to stay hydrated.

The air was warm and the humidity was thick. I wondered what it would be like at midday if it was already so hot. I promised myself I would be back onboard by then to avoid any kind of heatstroke.

Fort-de-France is a delightful little town with stone shopping streets and lush tropical greenery. Most people here speak French and minimal broken English. In that respect it reminded me of Quebec. There were beautiful and interesting graffiti art on many of the walls and in curious places. It was a nice decoration to what would otherwise be boring ugly dated architecture or alleyways.

The clothing styles and fabric patterns were quite French, loud, bold, and sometimes downright bizarre. I realized after a very short time, I wouldn’t be buying any clothes here. Not to mention everything was really very expensive. Even though they were all advertising Black Friday Sales, the pricing was way off. I mean, I understand it is an island but I couldn’t justify the cost for the glut of low-quality goods. I wondered what the minimum wage is here and how people could afford to live or if this was just a cost inflated tourist zone.

  I came upon a lovely church so I went inside to take some shade. Only a few steps in and my whole self just relaxed. Churches have a way of doing that, especially when they are quiet. Apart from a few tourists and a couple of parishioners, it was empty. I sat down to take a rest and watched a man praying earnestly. I loved how he hung his yellow hat on the post and knelt down slowly. Whatever was on his mind, it seemed heavy. I wondered what he was praying for. I hoped that his prayer would be answered.

    I walked a bit more and discovered a few statues. One in particular had lost her head! I wondered if that was on purpose. I started getting a little tired so I made the decision to head back to the ship. I decided to walk through the little maze of makeshift stalls just on the waterfront. As I had suspected there was just more of the same, overpriced tourist garbage made in china. Sarongs, tee-shirts, fans, little dolls, shells, bottles with sand in them. But then suddenly I was shocked to see something different that I have never seen before. To be honest her stall stuck out like a sore thumb. Her wares were nothing like I had seen anywhere else.

I learned her name was Fatie Madjour and she is an artist. She was sharing her unique and high-quality creations. I had never seen French art deco printed on shoes, sandals, bags, and scarves. It was strange and wonderful and classy and cool. THIS is real French style!! It was the stuff you would expect to see in a little boutique in Paris, not a wooden makeshift stall alongside cheap hawkers. She truly is a hidden gem! The more I talked to her the more charmed I was by her story. She had lost her job as an accountant in France and took the risk to live her dream as an artist creating what she loves in Martinique. She looked so damn happy. I had to hug her because I admire what a brave woman she is. Needless to say, I tried on the shoes and they fit like a glove. I had to have them. So stylish AND comfortable AND affordable AND well made. I was proud of myself for shopping local and supporting a woman of vision. I bought a bunch of her stuff…you can see some of it at Je Prends Mon Pieds Thank you Fatie!! I headed back to the ship with my bag of goodies just in time for lunch. I decided on the perfectly cooked scallops over handmade gnocchi which was truly divine. I could eat that all day. A nice fresh salad rounded off my meal and I was ready for my spa appointment.

Today I am trying the body scrub and massage. I was delighted to hear that I could switch my original Ginger-Lime scrub to the Frangipani recipe. Aka Plumeria which we all know is my favoritest flower in the world. My therapist was a tall Italian named Stan. He had a very gentle and kind demeanor which is quite the opposite that I had experienced from most Italian men. Way to break the mold Stan! The scrub felt wonderful and the scent of the oil the salt was in was intoxicating. When it was time for me to rinse off, I was almost light-headed. After I had rinsed off in the shower which was conveniently right beside the table just two steps away, Stan went on to do a deeper massage really smoothing out those knots I had taken years to build. I was still a little sore from yesterday’s massage so I was grateful he was very attentive to the pressure. Stan is the man!

Feeling completely renewed I dressed for supper and went down to the Hot Rocks Grill. I was really excited to try this out it is so different than any other ship I have been on. You order whatever you want and they bring you your meat raw which you then cook on a hot hot stone. I love this type of dining and the fact that I had complete control over my doneness was awesome. I had steak and prawns and a few different sauces. It was so yummy. They give you a bib before you start cooking and I understood why by the end of it. It can be a little messy with that hot rock! But totally worth it and a must-try if you get the chance. After supper, I decided to go check out the show. It was a world-class clarinet player called Pete Neighbour. I will confess, I was really skeptical because, well…clarinet. I really can’t think of it as anything other than the instrument nobody wanted to play in band class. I actually sat near the back in case I had to quietly escape. But imagine my surprise when I found myself actually bouncing my foot around to the very charismatic musician. He was a really good entertainer and I had no idea the clarinet could sound like that. Wow.

By the end of the night, I was absolutely knackered. It slipped into my cloud of a bed and fell asleep with a smile on my face.

French Art and a Clarinet Rockstar After a heavenly sleep, I woke to soft knocking at my door. My butler Aditya wished me a cheerful good morning as he set up my breakfast table.