#I’m still healthy myself but it’s making me paranoid and lots of hand washing has ensued

[burgerflight]

Sharing a previously neglected McDronald’s boy, Gallimaufry who just got this rad butcher UMA.

[nerdzzone]

Light After Dark: Chapter Eight

Summary: Brooke Harris was trying her best to be grateful. As the world tackled the COVID-19 pandemic, she was healthy and safe and so was the rest of her family, but her dreams had very quickly been crushed by the economic fallout. Trapped on the quaint island of Jersey with nothing, but free time to wallow in her mistakes, Brooke’s mental health was taking a hit, but when she collides with a handsome stranger she starts to realize that the future might not be so bleak and there might still be a light at the end of the tunnel.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x OFC

______________

May. 27. 2020

Henry: Any plans for this lovely warm day?

Warm felt like an understatement. It was hot. The temperature had shot up out of no where making it feel even warmer than it actually was, but at twenty-four degrees it felt like the height of summer for England.

Me: I'm way ahead of you

Me:

The picture was more revealing than things I'd sent him before, but I was at the beach so it would have been weird to cover up for a selfie. At least that’s what I told myself as I waited eagerly for a response.

Henry: Wow, it looks like I'm missing out

Henry: Do you want some company or are you enjoying the alone time?

Me: I'm always happy to have your company if you want to join!

Henry: Excellent, what beach are you at?

Me: Beauport

Henry: Great, I'll see you soon

I put my phone back under my bag and out of the sun before resting my head down on my arms. The feel of the sun on my back was lovely, just warm enough to feel like I was laying under a nice hot blanket, but not hot enough that it felt like my skin was literally burning. Days like this were my absolute favourite. Anything between twenty-three and thirty degrees was just right for me and I tried to appreciate that this was a moment I wouldn't have had if my plan for the year had worked out.

I was in my own world, still basking in the warmth when a bark and a wet nose pulled me out of my thoughts.

"Kal!" A sharp voice shouted as I lifted my head to see the massive dog above me. "Leave her alone!"

I giggled as he licked my face frantically and reached up to ruffle his fluffy coat.

"It's okay," I assured Henry as he jogged over. "He's alright."

"He knows better than to run off like that," Henry frowned. "But he saw you and bolted."

"Well I appreciate that enthusiasm, but you should listen to your boss, Kal."

He boofed at the sound of his name before darting a few feet towards the sea then running back to Henry. He did it twice more before letting out a bark towards his owner.

"Alright," Henry chuckled. "You can go, Kal. Go!"

Kal didn't even hesitate before shooting off and jumping into the waves. I laughed as I looked over my shoulder at the sight while Henry spread out the blanket that was tucked under his arm and sat down next to me. I rolled over, leaning back on my elbows so it was easier for us to talk.

"He must be so hot in this weather."

"He is," Henry nodded. "But he does well. He's been to some places that are a lot hotter than this."

"Well then he's a trooper," I smiled. "Because much hotter than this and even I get cranky and I don't have a built in fur coat."

"He is," Henry chuckled, but paused as Kal started trying to bite the waves. He whistled sharply, catching his dogs attention. "Kal! Come here!"

The dog happily charged back towards us before flopping down in the sand, panting.

"He's so obedient!"

"I worked hard at that," Henry admitted. "I knew that if I wanted to take him everywhere I go then he had to be well-behaved, but he's still a dog so sometimes he does things that he shouldn't like drinking salt water until it makes him sick."

"Sometimes it's the things we love the most that hurt us," I smiled. "Like humans with alcohol."

"Fair point," Henry laughed. "But at least there's some fun to be had with alcohol, can't say the same with salt water."

"I wouldn't know," I shrugged. "It's not something I've tried."

"Me neither," Henry smiled before leaning back and tilting his head up to the sky, sighing contentedly. "Wow, it's such a nice day today."

"I know, it's perfect. It's hot, but not overwhelmingly so."

Henry looked down at me, a smirk on his face.

"I would imagine that it's hard to be overwhelmingly warm when you're wearing as little clothing as you are."

"It's a bikini," I defended myself, matching his smirk. "We're at the beach, what else would I wear?"

"Oh no, I'm not complaining," Henry assured me. "You look great."

My face heated up at that, but I quietly thanked him and turned my face towards the sun, hoping that it would account for my red cheeks. However, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Henry pulling his shirt over his head and I couldn't help, but take a peek. It was quite a sight to say the least. I'd seen him shirtless in the Witcher of course, but seeing it up close made him seem even more unreal.

The smirk was still firmly planted on Henry's face as he caught my eye and I shook myself out of it.

"Do you have sunscreen on, Mr. Cavill?"

"No," He admitted. "I didn't even think of that before I left the house, but I don't burn too easily so I think I'll be okay."

I frowned at that and reached over to my bag, pulled out my sunscreen and tossed it onto his blanket.

"It doesn't matter if you don't burn easily, it's still bad for your skin to be in sun this strong with no protection," I warned him. "Besides, isn't Geralt supposed to be super pale? Don't give your make-up artists more work."

He laughed, shaking his head at my scolding, but did as I asked after mumbling something about how bossy I was being. I ignored him though. I loved laying in the sun, but was paranoid about the potential damage it could cause so I was very used to friends and family making fun of me for my strict sunscreen rules.

I watched while he applied it to his face, arms and his chest until he turned to me with a problem.

"That's all the places I can reach," He sighed, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "What if my back burns?"

"I guess you'll just have to keep it against your blanket and out of the sun."

"Or you could do it for me?"

I opened my mouth to protest, but it had suddenly gone dry at the thought of running my hands over the broad, muscled back of the man I was looking at. I quickly took a sip from my water bottle to remedy that problem as he watched me closely waiting for my reaction.

"We're supposed to stay two metres apart," I reminded him, but all I got was a pout in return. The giant, manly, thirty-seven year old man actually genuinely pouted at me. And I was powerless to resist. "Alright, fine. But keep your head forward and away from me the whole time, okay?"

He grinned and nodded as he sat up and leaned forward. I shifted onto my knees before crawling over and settling behind him. I squirted some sunscreen onto my palm and gently placed it against his back. I felt nervous which made me feel silly, but this would be the most physical contact we'd had so far and it felt shockingly intimate as I carefully rubbed my hand across his skin.

His muscles were rock solid and my breath caught in my throat as they quivered under my touch. Tiny little goosebumps rose up on his skin as I took my time, exploring every curve of his shoulder blade and ridge of his spine. We were closer than we'd been since he carried me to the car on the day that we met and it suddenly hit me how much things had changed between us in that short time. A temptation washed over me to press my lips against the soft hairs on the back of his neck, but I pushed the thought out of my head as I rubbed in the last of the sunscreen, knowing it would be inappropriate.

I cleared my throat as I moved back to my blanket, feeling a new kind of heaviness in the air between us. There were a million thoughts running through my brain as we sat in silence until I managed to speak.

"It's really such a shame that you've let yourself go so much these last few months."

Henry stared at me for a moment before laughing and the thick tension between us faded slightly, at least to a point where it wasn't quite so hard to breathe.

"I know, it's embarrassing," He playfully hung his head, sarcasm dripping from his words. "It's going to take me ages to get back into shape before filming starts again."

"Do you have any idea when that will be yet?"

I felt an anxious pang in my stomach as I asked the question. I almost didn't want to know the answer because I knew how disappointed I'd be if it was anytime soon.

"No, not yet," He sighed and despite feeling sympathy for him, I was relieved. "The best guess they can give right now is maybe September, but they don't want to commit to anything because things change so fast these days."

"That's very true," I nodded. "Did you hear about them easing the restrictions here soon?"

"I did," Henry smiled. "Is it on June 10th?"

"The twelfth," I corrected. "Apparently we'll be allowed to have parties with a maximum of twenty people. My mum's already working on a guest list for a barbecue."

I rolled my eyes and Henry laughed.

"Oh, I'm sure my mum will be doing the same. You'd think having a house full would satisfy her, but I think she misses seeing people that she isn't related to."

"I can relate to that," I laughed. "That's why it's been so nice having you to spend some time with."

I thought that might be a bit cheesy, but Henry nodded.

"It has been nice for that," He agreed. "And it doesn't hurt that you flounce around in skimpy pajamas and barely there bikinis to get my attention."

My jaw dropped as he shot me a smug look.

"I am not doing anything for your attention," I protested as he laughed, tossing his head back.

"Oh, sure," He grinned. "All I did was ask what you were doing and you sent me a picture of you half-naked on the beach."

My cheeks were burning, but I laughed as I shook my head in disbelief.

"Okay, but how fast did you get here? It took you less than ten minutes and I know it's at least a fifteen minute drive from your place."

"Maybe if you follow the speed limit," He chuckled. "But the roads were empty so perhaps I went a bit fast."

"Perhaps? Sounds like you were speeding desperately to ogle me in person," I teased. "And then you make me rub sunscreen all over you? I don't think I'm the one desperate for attention here."

"You're the one who was so concerned about my sun protection," He pointed out. "But anyway, my point was that I enjoy spending time with you as well."

I laughed, letting my head fall back so the sun hit my neck and chest.

"I'm not sure I stand by that statement anymore," I mused. "I might need to find someone else to hang out with who doesn't try to wind me up all the time."

"Oh, c'mon, where's the fun in that?"

"The fun is that I keep my sanity," I joked as I pulled my sunglasses off my head and tossed them towards my bag. It was nearing two o'clock and I realized how hot the sun was starting to get. "I think I'm going to go for a swim, do you want to come with?"

Kal leapt up as I pulled myself to my feet, barking happily at me.

"She wasn't talking to you," Henry laughed, ruffling his dog's fur as he stood up as well. "But a swim sounds lovely. That sun is getting intense."

"It is," I nodded as we headed off towards the water. "It feels way hotter than I thought it was supposed to be, but it's refreshing after such a rainy spring."

"Absolutely," Henry agreed as we got to the rocky part of the beach. Closer to the water was more soft sand, but there was a middle stretch of rocks that was proving to be rather inconvenient. "Are you a good swim-"

Half-way through Henry's sentence I went down. The rocks were slippery and I lost my footing, falling on my bum with an embarrassing shriek. Kal bounded over, barking frantically from the commotion as I could barely stand myself up through my laughter.

"Oh my god," I choked out. "I can't believe that just happened."

Henry had his hand on Kal's collar to give me space and there was a smile on his face despite the look of concern.

"Are you okay?"

I got my laughter under control and nodded as I got to my feet.

"Other than my bruised ego, I'm fine."

Henry chuckled and shook his head.

"I can't believe how clumsy you are!"

"I'm really not," I insisted. "Maybe if someone didn't shatter my ankle a few weeks ago, I'd have better balance."

"Oh, sure, blame me! Last I heard, you were insisting that incident was mostly your own fault as well!" He had a valid point, but I just stuck out my tongue as I subtly tried to adjust my bikini bottoms. "You're really okay though? You didn't hurt your ankle again?"

"No, no, I'm fine," I assured him. "Just embarrassed."

He let go of Kal and we resumed our walk, making sure to be extra careful where we stepped.

"So, what I was going to ask was: Are you a good swimmer?"

"I am," I nodded. "We used to spend a lot of time at the seaside when I was a child so I love being in the water."

"That's good," Henry's smirk returned. "Hopefully you're better at sea than on land."

I cringed slightly as another wave of embarrassment at what just happened washed over me, but I couldn't help but laugh at the situation.

"Oh, please," I rolled my eyes. "Don't act like you wouldn't love an opportunity to give me mouth to mouth."

Henry laughed at that, shaking his head in amusement.

"Cheeky girl," He tutted. "But I'll admit, it wouldn't be too much of an imposition if my services were needed."

He shot me a wink and for a brief moment I was actually considering letting myself drown just to give him the chance to save me.

****

We stayed at the beach for the next few hours. We swam for a bit with Kal paddling around us as we splashed each other, teased each other and had a very competitive race back to shore that I obviously let Henry win. Once we were back on on our blankets, we lounged in the sun to dry off, but since it still wasn't quite summer it did start to cool off as it got closer to dinner time.

“I should probably head home," I reluctantly said as I checked the time. "I've been here all day, my family probably think I've drowned."

"I don't know about that," Henry smirked. "You are a strong swimmer, they're probably more worried that you've fallen and broken something."

"Piss off," I laughed. "You're so rude."

Henry grinned proudly at getting under my skin once again as I slipped a sundress over my now dry bikini. Henry followed suit, putting his shirt on as I folded my blanket and checked to make sure all my things were tucked safely in my bag.

"How did you get here?" Henry asked as he folded up his own blanket as well. "Did you drive?"

"No, I walked."

"You walked?" He raised his eyebrows. "That's a long way to walk."

"It was a nice morning," I shrugged. "I just popped on an audio book and it didn't feel like such a long trek."

"Fair enough," Henry nodded as we headed towards the parking lot with Kal hot on our heels. "But how are you planning to get home?"

"I hadn't really thought of that," I admitted. "I'll probably call my dad and see if he can pick me up. Otherwise, I guess I'll be walking back too."

"I can give you a ride," Henry offered immediately. "Seems silly for your dad to drive all the way here when we're going to almost the same place."

It was a tempting offer and it did make sense, but I bit my lip nervously. We really were supposed to be staying two metres apart and we'd already been closer than we probably should have been throughout the day. Sensing my hesitation, Henry rushed to assure me.

"We can keep the windows open if it makes you feel more comfortable and I really haven't seen anyone other than you and my family for weeks now."

"We're so bad at this two metres apart thing," I laughed with a shake of my head. "But okay, thank you. I would love a ride home."

"Perfect," He smiled. "I wasn't really going to take no for an answer anyway."

I smiled at that knowing it was probably true. I hadn't known Henry all that long, but I'd already discovered that his dog wasn't the only stubborn one in their little duo. It was nice though. I might not have dated much in the last couple of years, but I knew that chivalry was hard to find and it was becoming more and more clear that Henry really was a true gentleman and I was very grateful to have someone like him around to brighten up the dark lockdown days.

_________

I’m starting a tag list for this story now so let me know if you would like to be added!

Tag List: @heartfelt-pen​

[korra-the-red-lion]

Unnatural Affairs. Chapter 7: Sweet Dreams.

(Lyn + Michael)

Lyn.

Push. Hold. Lower. Hold. Repeat.

I mechanically went through the motions of my push-ups. They always say exercises are supposed to release those happy feelings, yet it wasn’t helping me all that much right now. I lowered myself all the way down and rolled onto my back, staring up at the morning sky.

It was a chilly morning, which wasn’t all that surprising since it was October. The grass was wet enough that I could feel my back getting soaked from just lying here. I forced myself up into a crunch, holding for 5 seconds before lowering myself down again.

My mind wouldn’t stop replaying the scene of Jackie just lying there. Every time I closed my eyes it was just there. It was really fucking with me. I haven’t really spoken to anyone about it. I didn’t really want to. I know what was holding me back from getting the help I needed, but I couldn’t fight through it. It was like this whole thing has royally screwed with my hold on myself, and now things were spiraling out of my control.

Then there was what Ally and her friend Michael explained to me the other day. It was so utterly ridiculous, but it was something. It made zero sense to me, but so did fucking blood showers and random attacks in the locker room, so in some way it made more sense than anything else. I mean, I thought I did see a shadow in the tree after Ally told me she didn’t like being there, and I know there was writing on the wall. And Jackie’s wound…those were claw marks, not knife wounds.

My stomach lurched when I thought about the wound and I rolled onto my side, steadying my breathing. I screwed my eyes shut and forced my brain to think about anything besides that. For whatever reason, it settled on Nailed It. I started giggling like a madwoman as I fought off my nausea. Man, I must look like a strange site right now.

I forced myself to my feet and sluggishly walked back to my res. When I opened my door, Nura looked over and frowned.

“Lyn, are you okay?”

“Hmm,” I hummed. I picked through my drawer to find a clean shirt to wear.

“You just seem…different. Do you want to talk about it?” I could hear the concern in her voice, and it made me sick to my stomach. I hated when someone worried about me. With my back still to her, I took a deep breath and plastered a smile on my face before turning around.

“I’m good, thanks! Just a little tired, that’s all,” I said. Ugh, my voice sounded so bloody fake.

Nura nodded slowly but she definitely didn’t believe me in the slightest. I turned away and grabbed a few more things before heading to the showers.

I scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed, but the icky feeling that was worming around inside my body wouldn’t go away. I was shaking as I washed my hair, trying to calm myself down. There was no need to get so worked up over nothing. Something. Worked up over something. Something out of my control.

I need to get my head on straight. Maybe once I ate something I’d feel better. It felt like a false hope, but it was something. I carefully cleaned under my nails, paranoid that Jackie’s blood was still under them. I cleaned them religiously 3 times a day, but the feeling was still lingering. Finally, feeling extremely raw from all the scrubbing, I stepped out of the shower and dressed quickly.

Not wanting to talk to Nura again, I dumped my stuff off quickly and made a beeline for food hall. I zipped my parka up and pulled up the hood. It was threatening to rain already, and I didn’t want to get cold after just getting out of the shower.

The smell of food didn’t really entice me like I figured, but I still grabbed a plate of eggs and toast. I sat down at a mostly empty table and slowly worked my way through the food. My stomach was still squirming around, and the food wasn’t making it feel any better.

I heard the footsteps before I even saw who they belonged to. Those stomping steps could only belong to her. “Lyn, Jesus fucking Christ on a cracker,” snarled Loryn as she sat down across from me. “Why are you avoiding me? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for days now!”

I cringed and looked away, shame colouring my cheeks. “Oh…hey Loryn.”

“Oh, do not ‘hey Loryn’ me, Lyn!” She slammed her hand on the table. “You show up for practice looking like an absolute wreck and speed out of there so fast I didn’t get a chance to even say hi! What the hell is going on?!”

“Loryn please, not here,” I muttered, very aware of some of the people listening in.

“Not here?” Loryn seethed, “Then where? Because like I said, you’ve been dodging me since the hospital.”

I rubbed at my face awkwardly, not sure how to answer. I settled for a shrug and a small shake of my head, which only annoyed Loryn more.

“Okay, fuck this.” She got up and walked around, grabbing me by the wrist and forcing me to my feet. “We’re walking. Let’s go.”

I meekly followed her out of the food hall, knowing there was no way I was going to get away from her this time. The rain had started to fall lightly as we stepped outside. Loryn’s angry stomps simmered down to heavy clomps as we walked towards the little pond.

“You better start speaking now, Lyn” said Loryn sternly. I knew she wasn’t going to stay mad at me for long, but the concern I saw in her eyes didn’t make me feel much better.

“If I told you I wasn’t really sure, how mad would you be?” I asked lightly, trying to joke a little.

Loryn’s mouth twitched slightly as she crossed her arms. “I have two older sisters, Lyn, and a little one. I can literally stand here all day if I have to.”

I sighed, shoulders dropping heavily. “I just…I dunno. I’m processing a lot of things right now…” I shoved my hands in my pockets sullenly.

“I get that,” said Loryn as she threw a hand up angrily, “but Lyn, you can’t just push everyone out when you are going through things. We’ve been over this before!”

My mind flashed back to first year, when I got into a huge fight with my parents over Thanksgiving break. That was when I spiralled the first time, indulging in a lot of self-destructive behaviours. Like my extremely unhealthy dating speed run, or my run in with Adderall. Loryn was the first one to notice that something was going on, and I eventually broke down and told her what happened.

My relationship with them was complicated. Being the youngest daughter in a family of three, I had a lot of expectations to live up to. They expected absolute perfection at all times, which is where my need for perfect grades comes from, as well as all the extra training I did on my own. I was getting better, but I still tended to retreat into myself when dealing with an extreme number of emotions. I didn’t want other people to be bothered with me, most likely caused by my upbringing. Asking for help meant you were falling behind the bar, and well…yeah, lots of fighting.

I sighed again, looking at Loryn’s shoulder instead of her face. “I can’t sleep.”

“How long?”

“Since…” my voice got caught in my throat. “…the whole locker room thing. It started a little before, I think. But when I saw…I just can’t sleep right now.”

“Lyn…” Loryn’s voice softened. “It’s totally normal, okay? What you saw…I can’t even imagine that. But it’s not healthy to keep it all bottled up.”

“I know that!” I snapped, before dropping my head in shame. “Sorry. I know that,” I repeated, less annoyed, “but they’re in my head. You know she called me?”

“She did?”

“Yeah.” I kicked a pebble away, watching it fly. “She must have gotten word of the whole incident or something. Anyway, they wanted to check in on me, but I didn’t answer at first. Then I made the stupid fucking mistake of answering the second time.”

Loryn frowned in displeasure. “Yeah? And what?”

I shook my head. “Just the whole ‘well I’m glad to hear that you’re okay,’ which would have been fine if it wasn’t followed up with ‘I just hope this doesn’t affect your grades.’”

Loryn’s face went red with anger, similar to how she looked at me earlier. “Are you serious? One of your friends got hurt and that’s what she says to you?”

“Yup,” I said flatly. “So, on top of my fucking night terrors, I’ve got my mum on my mind. Mix it all together and you get one miserable Lyn,” I finished with a pathetic laugh.

“Lyn, c’mere,” Loryn said with her arms opened wide. I walked into her hug and let her squeeze me tightly. “What you’re going through is allowed, but you gotta open up. I can’t help you if you avoid me like the plague.”

I dropped my chin on the top of her head. “I know, I’m a dumbass.”

“That much is obvious,” Loryn muttered into my shoulder. “Did they give you anything at the hospital?” I shook my head. “Okay, then we need to get something to help you. Because I don’t know how to say this nicely, so I won’t, but you look like shit.”

I chuckled weakly. “Do you say that to all your boyfriends?”

“Only when they look like shit,” she said curtly. “Come on, let’s go do something fun to help you relax a little, then we are totally figuring out who we can call about this.”

“Fine,” I mumbled. “But I have plans today, so can this not take long?”

“What? What kind of plans do you have?”

“I’m…” Shoot, I don’t know how to explain I was going to look into the history of the school because I was going ghost hunting. My brain scrambled to make up something intelligent to say but it couldn’t. Loryn was looking at me questioningly, no doubt thinking I was making it up so I could get out of talking to someone. I finally settled on a half-truth.

“I’m meeting up with Ally later,” I said lamely. I totally never planned on bringing her. Sifting through the archives could take a ton of time and I wouldn’t want to make her help with that.

Loryn made a thoughtful face before breaking out in a playful grin. I was confused and asked, “What’s that face for?”

“Nah, not telling,” she said teasingly.

“What the heck? What about being open and shit?”

“Oh, that’s only for you! I don’t keep locking away my feelings.”

I groaned, “Loryn, just tell me pleaseeeeee.”

“’The cute brunette,’” she said, doing a poor imitation of me.

My ears heated up. “What’s that supposed to mean, huh?”

Loryn giggled. “Oh, nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

“She’s cute, yeah. And I like hanging out with her,” I said throwing my hands in the air, “so what?”

“This is like your second date already,” Loryn pointed out.

Okay, now my face was heating up. “I-I- no, I mean, it’s not like that,” I spluttered as Loryn laughed at me. “I mean, yeah, she’s cute and really fun to hang around with, but that’s all that’s going on, you know?”

“Whatever you say, Lyn. I don’t get in the way of you dating.” Loryn nodded approvingly. “She’s a better pick than Derek at least. No wait, scratch that, the dirt on my shoe is a better choice than him.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me,” she stuck her tongue out.

I grabbed her tongue with a small smirk on my face. “Ally is just a friend, that’s all. Who knows, maybe it will become something more but right now it’s nothing. I don’t know her all that well. She just asked for my help on a history thing. I gotta put this big brain of mine to good use, you know?”

Loryn pulled her tongue away and smiled cheekily at me. “Okidoki. Alrighty, let’s go.”

“Do we have to?”

“Lyn!”

I held my hands up defensively. “Kidding, only kidding.”

Maybe this whole talking to someone thing might be good for me. I already felt a little bit better, even if I was running on very little sleep. I would never admit to Loryn that she was right about this though, because she would never let me live it down. Sometimes it would have been nice to have a friend like her growing up. I probably would have been a little better adjusted, but it is what it is. That’s what growing up is, right? Learning how to be your own person and discovering things you never knew before.

XXX

Michael

If someone told me that I would be swiping some of my lab equipment so I could do a test on a sample from in the locker room from a supposed ghost attack at the beginning of the school year, I would have laughed politely and nodded along without believing a word they said.

But here I was, doing just that.

If my lab partner Travis noticed, he didn’t say anything. We were looking at blood samples today and he kept smushing the lens containing the blood by accident, and I think he just wanted to leave.

Time in lab always seemed to drag on forever. It might have to do with the 3hr slot that was dedicated to it, but I felt like my energy was slowly being drained away. Finally, the TA looked over and told everyone to start cleaning up. I quickly put everything away and wiped down my station, ready to get the heck out of here.

“Hey, Michael?”

I held back from gritting my teeth and looked over at the TA. “Yea’?”

She smiled at me and handed me my assignment back. “You almost forget this.”

I chuckled with a sheepish grin as I took it. “Oh, thanks Jas.”

“No problem.”

After that nearly embarrassed display on my part, I was out of here. I slipped off my lab shoes and tossed them into my backpack with my lab coat. I slipped my sneakers on and pulled my coat from the hook as I sped to the door, ready to get out of here.

It was raining when I came out, which was a bit of a mood killer. Then a thought popped in my head.

Wait, why was I in lab? They’re cancelled for the week.

All of a sudden, the sky rumbled as if it was annoyed that I came to this realization. I looked around, seeing if there was anyone around. The whole campus was empty, except one person sitting on the steps leading into the Harper building. I madly ran over, my feet slipping on the wet pavement with something that definitely not rain.

“Hey! HEY!” I hollered, trying to get their attention. They wouldn’t look up. Maybe they couldn’t hear me? I yelled louder, waving my arms around. Finally, they looked over.

Half her face was rotting off. Skin was hanging by threads as her face oozed with pus. Her left eye was leaking something cloudy, and her smile was disturbing. I forced myself to stop running towards her, backpedalling to now get away. But she lifted a hand and crooked her finger, and I was pulled over against my will, like there was a giant hand tugging at me.

“W-what do you w-want?” I stuttered nervously.

She tilted her head, and a chuck of skin plopped to the ground. I nearly threw up right there, but I managed to hold it in. Barely. She stood up and I could see that other parts of her body were equally as rotten. She opened her mouth and shrieked in my face, spittle and pus and blood all splashing against me.

Oh my God oh my God ohmygod.

Her finger dug into my cheek as her good eye examined me. “You are the perfect specimen,” she said, her voice sounding like echoes in my ears. Before I could ask what she meant by that, she stabbed her hand through my chest.

I woke up with a jolt.

I quickly patted my hands over my chest but there was no bleeding. I sighed in relief before grabbing my phone to check the time. It was just around 11, I must have turned my alarm off by accident. I used the hem of my shirt to wipe the sweat off my face before texting Ally.

M: Ally, I just had a super weird dream.

It didn’t take long for her to reply.

                                                                                  A: Huh? What do you mean?

M: I was in lab when suddenly I realized that we have no classes and there was this woman sitting on the steps of Harper. I went over to ask her something and she was a rotting corpse!!!

                                                                                  A: are you serious?

M: yeah!! Then she fricking stabbed me!!!

                                                                                  A: D:

                                                                                  A: OMG

                                                                                  A: That sounds so freaky

M: yea for realz! She said something really weird to me to

M: *too

M: she said you are the perfect specimen

                                                                                 A: oh spicy, ghost has the hots for you

                                                                                 A: plz invite me to the wedding

M: Ally I was murdered in my dreams and you think we should get married?

                                                                                 A: was it your worst date ever then?

M: … I would say yes

M: though my date with Kiki Gillmore was pretty bad too

                                                                                 A: :P

I put my phone down and chewed on my nail, feeling a little better about the whole thing. It was just really freaky to feel something going though my body like that. I don’t even know who she was, but she looked pretty pissed off. And that voice, man. That was freaky crap. It wasn’t the first time I had a strange dream like that, but they were never that violent.

What did my dad always say about strange dreams? Michael, all dreams have some basis in reality. If something happens in a dream, there must be a reason for it.

Whelp, I really really really hope that wasn’t the case here. I’m not sure about other people, but I wasn’t a big fan of dying. Especially dying by hand stabbing. If I was going to die, I wanted it to be at least peaceful or heroic.

Deciding I needed to get rid of the heebie jeebies, I rolled out of bed and put on some clean clothes. There as a small shop that sold neato things like crystals and stuff. The lady who owned the store even did tarot readings. If there was some place I could buy ghostly protection from, it would be her place.

I suspiciously glanced at the rain-soaked pavement as I walked down towards the main street. At least it was just rain this time.

It didn’t take me too long to make it to The Dreaming Mythic. As usual, it looked pretty dead on the inside. I popped in, making sure the door closed behind me so the rain didn’t get in. Instantly I got hit with the smell of sage and…lavender? I think it was lavender. I poked around for a little bit before I approached the counter after getting freaked out by the petrified doll heads.

Being stabbed by a rotting corpse ghost was preferable to death by dolls.

Talia, the owner of the shop, smiled when she saw me approached. Probably because I’m the first customer she’s had today. Or in the last few days. Regardless, she leaned forward and asked, “Well, what can I do for you today, Mr. Yamamoto?”

I smiled at her pleasantly. “Hey, Talia. This probably won’t sound too strange to you, but I’m in the market for some magical protection,” I said, wiggling my fingers at her for dramatic effect.

“What kind of protection exactly?”

I pointed up. “Protection from them.”

She looked bemused. “Angels?”

Oh, she was playing with me today. I laughed and shook my head. “Nah, I wish. What I’m looking for is something to protect me and a few friends against ghosts.”

“Ghosts, is it?” She frowned and rubbed her nose. “What kind of ghosts?”

“I think they’re angry, maybe even vengeful.”

“Ah,” she said softly. She turned around to open up a small cupboard above her head. “How did you get mixed up with an angry spirit, Mr. Yamamoto?”

I crossed my arms behind my head, stretching my back out. “Uh, it’s not me exactly. Well, it kinda is. My friend, Ally, she’s the one getting into it. Her friend, Lyn, and some of the other girls on the swim team are being haunted, we think.”

“Oh, I heard about that poor kid getting attacked,” she commented. “It sounded a little too convenient to just be a knife attack. And right after they had such an ominous warning sign?” She shook her head in mild disappointment as she continued to gather things in her arms.

I poked at the amulets dangling from the display as I waited for her to finish up. Talia was nearly done, as she put down her armful of items before disappearing into the back room for a few minutes. I looked down, not sure exactly what gems she had pulled out. I recognized the amethyst, but that was about it. I wasn’t exactly a rock guy. Finally, she came back with a large dusty book and dropped it on the counter.

“I don’t know the personalities of the people you’re helping,” she said carefully, “but anyone who is willing to get entangled with the departed is someone who has done this before. I think for your friend Ally, this is what she needs.”

She handed me a necklace with an amethyst stone in the middle and some bracelet with a black stone in the center. “Amethyst is for soothing the user, and the onyx will help protect the wearer from dark spirits. For you, son, I recommend a peridot. It is associated with protection, purity, and emotional balance.” She frowned, muttering under her breath. She grabbed a ring off the counter and placed it gently in my hand. “Give this to the tall one. She’s going to need the quartz if she plans on helping you. All of you should be wearing some form of onyx, if I’m being truthful.”

I looked down at the various jewelry in my hands. “Um…how much do I owe you?”

She stared at me very intensely. I never really noticed it before, but the green in her eyes looked a little yellow in this light. She gave me a small smile. “$15.”

That seemed extremely underpriced. I raised my brow in question, but she only shook her head. “Mr. Yamamoto, how would you feel if you charged someone an insane price to help protect themselves from something that might kill them?”

“Super crappy, I guess,” I said quietly. The thought of the ghosts killing us was something that never once crossed my mind. I tapped my debit card against the machine and thanked her before heading out, my backpack now filled with various forms of protection.

Well, at least I felt a little productive today. Later tonight Lyn was planning on doing some research, I think. And I know Ally hasn’t said anything about joining her, but I had a sneaky feeling in my gut that she was going to. I wasn’t like, 100% sure, but the eyes she was giving Lyn during our chat had been p r e t t y intense. I chuckled to myself, because I was pretty sure Ally wasn’t completely aware of it just yet.

Nothing like a little romance to spice up a good old ghost hunt, amiright?

[volunaryroom3]

CHAPTER 4

My keys rattled in the door as it locked it behind me. It clicked shut and I rested my head on the door, hair tangling over my ears. Thank fuck that was over. Being a slave to the wage crushes your soul, some more days than others.

Now I was home. My sanctuary. A place where I was safe from the anger of the public, complexity of the world and could batten down the hatches with my favourite human before I had to once more put on my armour and head back into battle.

“What are you doing” said Jamie from the kitchen, who could see me resting my head on the front door, sighing in my zombie like state.

“I don’t know” I muttered into the wood. I straightened my back and walked through the to living room, kicking my shoes off and flinging myself onto a chair.

I took my socks off a wriggled my toes above the carpet. There’s something about bare feet that’s so rebellious. Being completely naked, free from the constraint of polyblend, gives you the pleasure of freedom but is also attractive and conventional. Feet were meant to be covered. They can be ugly, toes utterly offensive and fragile so they must be protected and hidden. For them to be naked feels so audacious, to feel carpet fibres beneath was so unruly and these small rebellions got me through the day.

“Here” said Jamie, entering the room and grabbing my naked big toe as he walked past and placed a mug on the table.

“Is that for me?” I said perking up.

“Well I don’t drink tea” he answered, not looking but gesturing with one hand and scrolling through his phone with the other.

“Okay, what do you want?” I asked, raising one eyebrow and looking at him with a wry smile.

“Just drink it” he said laughing.

We both looked at each other and smiled and I felt my heart skip a beat.

There had been a lot of heartache but then there was Jamie.

In my life there have been many boys, many girls, many people and subsequently much loss and sorrow.

My last boyfriend cheated on me. One minute he was one the phone telling me he loved me and the next he was snapped in an incriminating photo with someone else.

It was early morning when I saw the photograph online. I hadn’t been able to sleep, i was scrolling through my phone under the sheets when I saw his hand on her thigh, my eyes widening in the glow of the screen. A series of incidents flashed in my head; the missed calls, his phone vibrating accompanied by shifty glances, disappearing from the room to take a phone calls, whispering in secrecy, always carefully placing his phone face down on the cabinet, me touching my hand on his and him recoiling, leaving me cold. All these images flickering, falling on top each other like dominos until the last one dropped- he’s cheating on me.

My confrontation was subtle. “It looks like you’re having a good time haha I miss you” I text hoping my agony and urgency would feed through the phone.

No reply. Message read. No reply.

Hours passed as I laid in bed staring at the ceiling until the light of dawn rolled over the walls, White noise humming in my ears.

I went to work that day and I smiled, drank tea and did my job but I wasn’t there. I was on a autopilot. I was trapped in my mind, those images flittering past, unable to escape like a slideshow I could not take my eyes off. The pieces of a puzzle were falling into place, my head putting them together and I was lost in my thoughts, nipping and clawing at me through the day. My stomach tight and head spinning.

That evening I was staring into the TV set, blind to the screen and still arguing with myself. I was paranoid. Yes I was paranoid. This isn’t real. The words all muddling together and stacking on top of each other until it just became noise.

Suddenly a text.

“I’m sorry”

My world crashed around me. I felt my hands tightly grip onto each other and my tears fall in slow motion.

“Why?” I cried softy.

A numbness fell over my entire body and I collapsed onto the sofa, my tears running down the tip of my nose and staining the cushion.

After a while the numbness wore off and was replaced by pain. A sharp slice from neck to stomach not visible to the naked eyes but real to my nervous system. I didn’t eat. I didn’t sleep. I was just an exposed nerve; open with excruciating pain.

Weeks passed and I was still spiralling into oblivion. I was in trouble at work for mistakes and absence. I was worrying my family and friends but even that wasn’t enough to stop me slipping into the black hole. The dark pit of depression is all consuming and once you are stuck in the tar, you sink further down, you gasp for air until there’s no return.

“What a bastard” everyone said

“What a loser. His loss!” They chanted

And they were right of course. However this did not help me. I loved him. Somehow he subconsciously became my whole world and now I was lost. Lost and isolated in my loneliness but I knew I had to stop. This wasn’t healthy behaviour.

Grief has a timescale. Death can be a lifetime but the breakdown of a relationship? You are limited. You have the get on with it. You have to bare your teeth and show the world how strong you are. You have to prove to others that you are leaving it behind and if you aren’t moving on? You are weak and you can’t show weakness. You can’t be the one to lose.

So I moved on. I washed, I put clothes on and pushed myself back into life. I had an amazing few months embarking on journeys and weekends away by reconnecting with my lost friends. I immersed myself in live music, healing my soul with the beauty of beats and sound with pilgrimages to gigs and festivals. Wild, drunk nights in the sun building hundreds of memories to last a lifetime. The evidence consisted of a mosaic of Polaroids pinned around my desk: my favourite a muddy photo of me grinning ear to ear, hands in the air which screamed look at me! I’m living life!

When I talked to people I laughed. When I looked at people I smiled.

But every night I still cried in the shower.

Later I found out the girl that in the photo was his ex. They have a child together now. In the end it was all for the best but that still doesn’t stop that painful twinge whenever it crosses my mind.

Every time you are hurt a part of your heart breaks and creates a gap. Tiny shards splinter off and disintegrate into tears. You heal, you recover and you fight but there’s now a hole there that will never close up.

Once I am hurt, I am hurt forever.

He wasn’t the first but he was the last one who took a sledgehammer to my heart and shattered the remaining pieces. With the fragments I had left I swore I would never do it again, that I wouldn’t open up because I could cope, the pain would kill me. From then on I lived my life as half a person. Content but never allowing myself to fully feel. I was comfortable in my solitude but always empty.

That was until I met Jamie.

After lounging around the living room for a while I heard my stomach rumble.

“I’ll make tea” I said stretching. I got up and padded through to the kitchen.

I laughed as I heard him yelling at the tv. I know the match was on and I loved how passionate he was; the same amount he showed about everything in his life, including me.

I opened the cupboards and reached for the pan on the top shelf. I stood on my tiptoes, unbalanced and stretching, my fingers fumbling on the tip of the handle. Just as I felt my hand grip the handle they all came crashing down. Metal clanged onto the worktop, thundered to the floor and onto my bare feet.

I didn’t even make a noise, I just bit my lip and fell to the floor.

“What’s happening?” Yelled Jamie running into the room, seeing me rolling around on the kitchen floor.

“Ow! Sorry” I laughed but still grimacing in pain.

“You’re an idiot” he laughed

“I know”” I said rubbing my toes and frowning.

“It’s not funny” he snapped, his tone angrier than before. “I keep telling you to be careful. You’re so stupid. We were having such a nice time and now you’ve done this’

For a moment he stood over me, towering and serious with disappointment. I felt so small looking up at him and feeling shame wash over me.

“I’m really sorry, its been a long day”” I replied, looking at my feet in remorse.

He helped me up and marched me back to the living room in silence. I sat down on the sofa, raising my injured foot and resting it on the table. Jamie sat down on the other side, his attention brought back to the match.

I’ve always been clumsy. Bruises, broken bones and bangs peppered my childhood memories followed by reckless behaviour as an adult. He was right I needed to be more careful. He was only stern because he cared.

I turned my head towards him but he was still fixed on the tv, unwavering and stoic. I looked down at my feet and felt tears well up in my eyes.

There hadn’t been any trauma, no life changes and nothing worthy to make me unhappy but recently I’d started to feel a weight press down on me. My head had began to feel heavy as tiny bits of stress had started to drip on me and one by one it was building up. I was starting to feel cold and disconnected. Sometimes I’d suddenly freeze in time, stare at the wall, feeling like I was floating away until a friendly face asked if I was okay and brought me back down to earth. I was finding it hard to fall asleep and sometimes I was waking up with a bolt in the night, sweating after a bad dream and then worrying about insignificant things until my alarm called me to work. The other day it rained and I didn’t feel it. I saw the rain fall and land on my face but I didn’t sense it dripping down and onto my collar. I couldn’t feel anything anymore.

It was just a few bad days and I was being dramatic.

I sucked the tears back into my eyes and reached for the cold cup of tea on the table.

Things will get better soon.

[unapologeticallybella]

I Don’t Look Like J-Lo but Someone is Gonna Love Me Anyway

TW: Body Dysmorphia/ E.D   

   I’m going to go ahead and say, I am so happy I am not a notably attractive person. I’m not saying I’m ugly in the slightest but you know what I’m talking about. Those people where their attractiveness is one of their defining traits. Like you mention their name and almost always someone responds with, “Oh, the pretty one.” Yeah that’s not my story and that probably won’t ever be me. What I’ve noticed about those kinds of people is that almost always their personality suffers in some way shape or form. I’m not saying notably pretty people can’t have a good personality but basically yes, it’s rare. So when you don’t get to lean into your beauty, you tend to lean on other things like humor, kindness, intelligence; Oh, did I mention humor? One of my earliest memories is being around six years old, waking up in the middle of the night in a god damn panic. I ran to my mom hysterically crying. I said, “I don’t wanna be ugly.” I couldn’t really tell you what she said because I genuinely don’t remember. Obviously it didn’t make me feel better because here we are sixteen years later and I still wake up with that panic from time to time, only now I just don’t wake anyone up to hear me cry about it (that sounds a lot darker than I intended for it to.) Anyway, what I’m saying here is that I’ve always struggled with the way I look. 

   We all have that voice in our head that tells us we look like shit, that we shouldn’t post certain pictures, and that everyone else sees what we see; I swear sometimes I’d just rather stay home. I know everyone looks back at their old pictures and thinks “Wow, why was I so insecure, I looked fucking amazing.” It’s a pretty common thing, I know. For some of us that voice inside our head is a bit louder and a lot more persistent, mine was very cruel and eventually it just kind of took me over. I’ve never really talked about what I dealt with because I did it so privately; partly out of guilt because I knew I was harming myself and secondly because it was something for me to control and I didn’t want to lose that. I think I was eleven when someone else commented on my weight for the first time, I was 115 pounds. That’s when it started. I would go through these spells of not eating, restrictive diets, the obsessive calorie counting; no one noticed. This continued on and off for years, I love food so fucking much that it eventually turned into bingeing and then starving myself for the day, then bingeing again. Eventually I gained weight because my hunger would just build up, my cravings would just get stronger and I would lose every time; I’d binge. I would eat so fucking much. I could eat entire pizzas within 15 minutes, boxes of Oreos, bowls of cereal, tubs of ice cream, blocks of cheese; it’s absurd how fast I could eat it all. I was obsessed with diets, skinny detox teas, meal replacements were my favorite, and I loved watching my fitness pal tell me how much I could lose if I maintained the low calorie intake. My junior year, I tried making myself throw up for the first time. It was such an easy way to get rid of the guilt I felt for eating that much food, it helped me maintain the weight for a while. I really wasn’t under the impression that it was a problem because I wouldn’t do it often, only when I lost control and ate enough for me to feel fucking disgusting.

   You could say it might be emotional eating but what I’ve come to learn is that sadness absorbs my ability to feel hunger; it’s kinda great if you have a fucking problem like mine. My first breakup, I couldn’t eat solid foods for a few weeks; I genuinely only ate a cup of yogurt a day and Cheez-its when I felt like passing out. I lost weight immediately. It made me feel so powerful; I loved the feeling of hearing that I looked good. What’s crazy is that the power only lasts so long before that voice inside tells you still look like a troll. I look back at these pictures where I clearly look small and tiny but in that moment I promise you; I didn’t see that in the slightest, I couldn’t. My senior year, I got better for a while. I was the biggest I had ever been, and I felt like everyone could notice; I thought my curves looked weird and the way my body just held fat in the worst places made me want to die sometimes. I did crash diets on and off that year; I was extremely self conscious and hated the way I looked. I moved to New York, and I had started taking Ritalin (prescribed okay kids.)  Three weeks in, I forgot to eat for a little over two days. I genuinely did not feel hunger in my body. I was outside a hotel during fashion week, waiting for Kylie Jenner to show up when I had a full blown paranoid delusion. I called my mom thinking a bomb was going off. “Mom, I’m looking right at this cop and he looks fucking worried, Mom. Get me on a plane I need to come home right now. Something is happening, there are loud noises.” Then she tried to calm me down, she asked when the last time I ate was and when I tried to think back I was like, “Oh shit that bagel I had was literally two full days ago.” Yeah, so I stopped taking Ritalin, I think that would have been a dangerous combo for me.

   I struggle to call it an eating disorder because I never looked sick; it didn’t ruin my life; it didn’t hurt me (I don’t think) but I definitely wasn’t healthy. I think that was my turning point; I was tired of feeling weak all the time; I was tired of obsessing; I was so burnt out from all of it and I decided I wanted to stop it all completely. I eventually gained over sixty pounds over two years, it’s been a fucking nightmare let me tell you. Every day, I struggle with my body and what goes on inside my head. I tell myself awful things; I know that it’s not good, but it doesn’t really go away. I fight so hard to not fall down that path because I don’t want that for me; I don’t know how bad I could get and that scares me. I went out of my way for the past two years to prove to myself that I didn’t have a problem anymore by constantly treating myself with food. It’s like every time I ate a shit ton and I didn’t throw up was a success but then at the same time it wasn’t. Turns out that guilt manifests in different ways and it’ll find its way to you. I’ve gotten to the point where I know the weight gain is noticeable, I feel like people think the awful things I do; So I did the only thing I knew how, laugh it off. Humor baby! Self deprecation is my middle name, sweetie. 

   I know I joke a lot about the way I look and the weight I’ve gained, it’s all light-hearted, but it actually gets pretty dark in this neck of the woods. Body dysmorphia is a mean bitch; She didn’t even allow me to enjoy my skinny days, talk about a shitty time. I used to do this thing where I would wash my hands on the right side of the sink just to avoid being in front of a mirror; “I just don’t wanna ruin my day, ” I’d always say. Anyone who knows me knows I’ve always used the same 2 inch mirror when doing my makeup because “looking at my whole face all at once is overwhelming.” You did not want to be around me when I couldn’t find that mirror, now that was a full-blown panic attack. I’m trying to be kinder to myself, now that doesn’t mean I won’t still make self-deprecating jokes but I’m trying to unlearn that shit. I go through body positive phases where I force myself to look at myself and find things I like. I unfollow Instagram models sometimes but it doesn’t matter; pretty people are everywhere baby. Every day is a god damn battle with myself; I can look at in the mirror and say “Hey you look good today” out loud but that bitch inside my head is screaming “You look like Shrek dumbass.” Having a past where men weren’t all that nice to me; I have an inherent feeling that if I was prettier, a lot of the things that happened to me maybe wouldn’t have (Come to find out even the hottest people get cheated on too, sick world we live in.) You know I’ve spent so many years comparing myself to other women because of something some asshole did to make me feel insecure; I always fall short so I’m done doing that now. Sometimes I worry that even if I lose the weight or if I cosmetically change the things I don’t like, that voice still won’t go away. Then what? What if I’m never happy with myself regardless of the ways I can change my appearance, I mean there’s a pretty good chance that could happen. So I’ve decided that I need to find a way to fall in love with myself the way I am right now. 

   People always preach “love yourself” and all that shit, but it’s so hard when it’s just you alone with your thoughts. Feeling love for yourself is arguably one of the most difficult things you’ll ever learn to do, it takes a kind of strength I’m trying to find. I will say, I do think the way I feel about myself has projected itself onto my relationships and in-turn sabotaged them. I have always required a certain amount of reassurance and affection from my partners which I’m sure can be draining but I forgive myself for that now. I have so much love for others that it just pours out of me uncontrollably and somehow I can’t find a way to feel that love for myself; it’s quite the problem to hauve. I’m learning to protect myself from that voice inside of me; I avoid things that I know will trigger me and cause me to spiral. I’ve been trying to lose the weight I gained these past two years, but for the first time I’m addressing the inner work. I acknowledge my weaknesses, I know my vices, I know myself better than ever now and that makes all the difference. Last December I forced myself to pick a form of exercise and like it, so I picked cycling. The first time I took a class, I actually catapulted out of the bike. I felt like the biggest idiot, but I tricked myself into enjoying the class. I just told myself that I would feel like one of those people who thinks spin is equivalent to a morning cup of coffee and eventually that’s how I genuinely felt.  Now it’s been almost a year since I made that choice and I’m so happy I forced myself out of bed. After the breakup, my mom really wanted me to start yoga to “soothe my anxiety” and it did surprisingly. It’s amazing what you can do for your body by just taking time to just sit there in silence and think about nothing. Sometimes when it’s that quiet, feelings come up and before you know it you’re on the beach on a yoga mat crying in the arms of your yoga instructor. These past six months, I have healed things inside of myself that I genuinely didn’t know where there. It’s been a mixture of therapy, cycling, yoga, listening to my body, forgiving myself, forgiving others and learning to love the parts of me that I don’t (oh and just not eating Chick-fil-a so fucking much.) This picture is me in my favorite pair of jeans, I bought them almost exactly a year ago and when I bought them they were snug and now this is what I’m working with. Is it sad that my favorite pair of jeans don’t fit me anymore? Hell yeah but I can finally say I can feel and see a difference in my body now. 

   So no, I probably won’t ever look like J-Lo and that’s okay. I’m probably always going to struggle with these issues and I will probably have that voice inside of me forever. But someone is gonna look at me and feel so fucking lucky; and it won’t just be because of the way I look. It’s going to be because of the way I make them laugh and the way love just pours out of me uncontrollably. Most importantly, when that love pours, it will be for me too. 

[nicolaineortuno]

The Year the World Hit Pause.

Name of Mask: See things and Say Nothing.

Medium Used: Pen and Ink. Acrylic, Canson Mixed Media.

Story of my Artwork:

History has shown that a pandemic can force humans to re-imagine their world. They can either choose to walk through it with the knowledge that it is empty and dead, or they can carry on with their lives and fight for it. There are no simple solutions to the pandemic. Instead, we are all affected by it in various ways. 

Reading about other people’s experiences can help us understand what we are going through and remind us that what we’re going through is both unique and shared by all. While I was there, I heard about the coronavirus on all the headlining news. I remember sitting with my co-workers during my lunch break, talking about it, and how I was sure it would never make its way to California. 

After one week  our school, Elevate Elementary, shutdown and transitioned to distance learning without any knowledge of how we are going to move forward. I worked two jobs and my other employer had to stop operating the whole summer. Social distancing took place. Eventually, everyone started panic buying, people started being selfish, hoarders and sellers took advantage, riots, crimes, others took matters in their hands. Fortunately, I was in a better place. 

I continue to practice social distancing, wearing my mask, washing my hands, and cleaning and sanitizing my home and workplace every day. 

I have pondered sadly about all the memories and experiences that have been lost. All the shake-hands, hugs, and kisses that never happened. I have been tested for COVID once a month since the start of the pandemic and thankfully my test results have  always come back negative. Although I had no symptoms of being ill, I still wanted to be sure.

Each day that passed I became more and more  paranoid. My friends, my family, the people that I care for were in my mind. One thing that hurt the most was not being able to physically see my mom  and dad. As they are still living in the Philippines. Not being able to see my family breaks my heart and with the season of COVID, it was ten times harder.

I was sad and miserable. I started to feel depression and anxiety kick in. So  I reached out for help for my mental health. I was really struggling emotionally.

Everyone I know seems to be falling apart in some way or another. Everyone is uncomfortable.

But here we are, almost more than a year later. How many people have we lost to this virus and pandemic? Since we cannot hibernate our way out of this period, we must muddle through, feeling the shifts and discomforts that the pandemic has brought. The ways in which the pandemic has changed so much of how we live – from the small to the large, from how and when we are going to work, to how we buy our food, and even how we mourn. It is all so exhausting.

I needed some support for myself and I found ways to deal with my issues. My therapist prescribed me some medications and recommended ways to recuperate. I needed to set boundaries that are healthy. I tried living the year like it’s gonna end tomorrow.

My sudden obsession with houseplant started. There is something that is just completely awe-inspiring about having a living organism. I was designed for connection and nurturing.  And somehow it kept me busy, there is a corner in my house so called “My Happy Place”.

I began appreciating my time alone with my dog. Long walks at the beach, running at a fast phase, exercising a lot. Hiking and going places that I’ve never been but still making sure I’m maintaining distance when I’m in public. Eating much healthier food and drinking all my supplements to boost my immune system.

In a time when we can’t see friends and family as much as we used to, some might be struggling to find the right ways to stay connected  and yes they still mean the world to us. Sure, the video chats, virtual dance parties and game nights were fun at first. But with the heaviness of the last few months, high-tech communication solutions have started to lose their luster. 

I redirect my attention to getting back into art. There’s no wrong way to do it. Just make sure that you do it in a way that makes sense to the person who is going to appreciate it. The skill level doesn’t matter. The neat thing about drawing is that you can express yourself in ways that you wouldn’t necessarily express yourself face-to-face. Isolation with my creativity made me feel so much better with the pandemic outside of my home.

2020 has turned out to be a year where we all were tested. It has turned out to be a year where I have learned how to find my way out, how to walk slowly but surely, how to find my way back to where I belong, and how grateful I am for what I have.

What is like when you can’t go home.

Name of Mask: Travel Ban.

Medium Used: Pen and Ink. Acrylic, Moleskine

Story of my Artwork:

I have continuously prided myself on being an insatiable traveler, going new places is not new to me. The year was 2020, on the 12th of February, after long fruitful years, I got my American citizenship. Some of us are lucky to be born into this country. I have to pave a way into my citizenship and still be proud of my Heritage! Filipino heart with American Dreams.

I love to travel. And whenever I can afford to, I pick up and go. Where am I going next? Nowhere! Like many of you, I’m on lockdown in California.

I was excited to go to Rome, France, Amsterdam, Russia and all the beautiful countries that I have in mind. My plan to go back home to the Philippines is finally falling into place! I’m homesick for my childhood bed and family members and home cooking.

The corona virus outbreak, which temporarily shuttered many of my favorite places, made me realize how much I took my social life for granted. 

Now I have this slow, intensifying ache in the pit of my stomach. It’s a familiar feeling, but not one I’m particularly used to.It’s a strange feeling to watch your home collectively experience a crisis from the other side of the ocean.

I was aching to go home. My parents, my brother, my friends and the people I care with. Every country is in lockdown. Is the world ending? I have spent a lot of time on the internet. And yes, that’s the only thing we can do being isolated 24/7. I've read  some articles about how coronavirus is a terrorist act or how this is an act of plagues in the book of Revelation. So many conspiracies and I don't know what to believe anymore.

Being stuck at home, I’ve developed serious cabin fever. And I’m eating way too many snacks and mostly just stress eating because of not being able to go anywhere. 

The year 2020 has been easy for me to become frustrated, scared and downright angry. But we can’t just focus on the bad. We should use this moment to reflect on the good in life. And we must be as productive as we can.

When we look back on this moment years from now, we’ll remember how people came together, how governments reacted and learned, and how we didn’t realize the freedoms we had until they were taken away. 

If I look through the darkness hard enough though, there is a sliver of light in all of this.

[insanemoonfish]

(tag) Wait, these are actually hella cute questions

1. Who was the last person you held hands with? ...I don't remember. I don't think I've ever held someone's hands for more than two seconds.

2. Are you outgoing or shy? Definitely shy. I wouldn't mind being reserved if I wasn't so damn awkward sometimes.

3. Who are you looking forward to seeing? Nobody in particular. Maybe a future friend?

4. Are you easy to get along with? I think I am, and I try to be, but it's hard for me to get close to people.

5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you? I don't like anyone at the moment, and if I did I can only hope they would. I'm apparently not a good judge of character. *sprinkles salt*

6. What kind of people are you attracted to? Genuinely nice and intelligent people.

7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now? I surely won’t.

8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind? The first to come to mind is one of my male childhood friends.

9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable? Not if it isn't about me, about someone I know or about something particularly gross.

10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with? Can't remember. Such conversations rarely happen.

11. What does the most recent text that you sent say? Do I really have to go check...

12. What are your 5 4 favorite songs right now? Not exactly favorites of right now as some I rarely listen to anymore. More like favorites of all time. M2U - gravity Rebecca Sugar - love like you Coldplay - every teardrop is a waterfall + a piano lullaby called Snow Heart.

13. Do you like it when people play with your hair? Hmm, I wonder. Some people did that to me a couple of times, but briefly because it was more out of curiosity than affection.

14. Do you believe in luck and miracles? No.

15. What good thing happened this summer? Good and bad things happen all the time. Not avoiding the question at all...

16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? No.

17. Do you think there is life on other planets? I believe not (damn you Fermi), but... logically... there should be? I hope there is.

18. Do you still talk to your first crush? I cut ties with them because I couldn't handle my emotions, simply put. Childish, I know, but it turned out for the best. They talk to me once in a blue moon these days, but we keep our distance.

19. Do you like bubble baths? I don't think I've ever got one but I'd love to.

20. Do you like your neighbors? Yes, they're quiet and keep to themselves. That's all I want them to be.

21. What are you bad habits? Biting my nails, overthinking, both overestimating and underestimating myself, sighing, misunderstanding or/and neglecting people, I could go on.

22. Where would you like to travel? Take me to the beach, please. Or to an amusement park.

23. Do you have trust issues? Trust Issues? Yes, that's me. Nice to meet you.

24. Favorite part of your daily routine? Going to bed, lol. Seriously though, just going to bed and indulging in that delicious false sense of security under the mattresses. Maybe read a bit on my phone. Forgetting time exists, not having to worry about a thing until I wake up...

25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with? My face. I think it looks perfectly fine, but it's a face I somehow don't identify with. I know that's weird - maybe I'm just not attached to it? Also, my expression awareness seems to be poor. People asked before what I'm happy about when I'm sad and vice-versa.

26. What do you do when you wake up? Remind myself of why I should get out of bed.

27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker? I wish I was less pale so people wouldn’t think I’m a vampire.

28. Who are you most comfortable around? My sister, because she manages to be even weirder than me.

29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up? No.

30. Do you ever want to get married? I'd like to, but I doubt it'll ever happen.

31. Is your hair long enough for a ponytail? Yes, my hair's quite long.

32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with? No threesomes for me, please. And I can't even name a celebrity from memory.

33. Spell your name with your chin. kikxdcklx... I hope you're happy.

34. Do you play sports? What sports? Nope. I like to swim though.

35. Would you rather live without TV or music? If you mean literal TV and not anything video related, this question is ridiculous. I'll take the music.

36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them? Only one person. I had my reasons, okay?

37. What do you say during awkward silences? It's an awkward silence, so I say nothing. It's an endurance test my listener has to pass... Jk. I point out something hopefully interesting around us.

38. Describe your dream girl/guy? Similar to that 'what turns you on' question. I'm not picky. If someone's truly trying their best to be a good person, they’ve already won me over, unless they have some serious character flaw.

39. What are your favorite stores to shop in? Big stores that have a lot of everything and impersonal customer service.

40. What do you want to do after high school? I'm currently studying Biomedicine in college. I want to get into Biotechnology but I have to study math and chemistry on my own first.

41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance? I don't know. I'm inclined to say no, that the past repeats itself, but I have no evidence to the contrary. I think it's safe to say that not everyone, in the sense that their doing may have been too vile to be allowed repetition.

42. If you're being extremely quiet what does it mean? That I’m distracted, probably, though I could also be either comfortable or uncomfortable (how paradoxical!).

43. Do you smile at strangers? ...Sometimes. I wish I could keep a poker face at all times. It's easy to get a smile or scowl out of me.

44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean? Both would be amazing, but since the prospect of swimming around God knows what terrifies me, I'll take the space trip. For the no-gravity time, too.

45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning? Vague hope...

46. What are you paranoid about? People's intentions...

47. Have you ever been high? No, but I wish I knew what it feels like.

48. Have you ever been drunk? Not by much. I dislike the taste of alcohol and I suspect I'd dislike the consequences of over-drinking even more.

49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about? Not really? Though, to be frank, I hope nobody knows almost nothing of anything I do. I value my privacy.

50. What was the color of the last hoodie you wore? Plain black.

51. Ever wished you were someone else? Is there anyone rich and healthy around so I can steal their soul?

52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself? Hard question. We're talking about magic here, right? I'd like to magically be more knowledgeable. Omniscient if possible.

53. Favorite makeup brand? I spend almost nothing on makeup, so guess.

54. Favorite store? I have a cloth store in mind, but it's not that great.

55. Favorite blog? Maybe Wait But Why.

56. Favorite color? Blue, pink, gold, black and white.

57. Favorite food? Salmon sushi.

58. Last thing you ate? Instant ramen. I was craving it, okay? Leave me be.

59. First thing you ate this morning? Instant ramen. *hides*

60. Ever won a competition? For what? Chess and illustration when I was younger. They were just silly school competitions, though.

61. Been suspended/expelled? For what? I can't say I was the most obedient or diligent student in middle and high school, but I never came close to being suspended… I think.

62. Been arrested? For what? Woah. Let's not.

63. Ever been in love? Probably not.

64. Tell us the story of your first kiss? Well... Someone tricked me into doing it. I didn't really know what I was doing.

65. Are you hungry right now? Not much.

66. Do you like your Tumblr friends more than your real friends? They're all real and thus have the same value to me.

67. Facebook or Twitter? I don't use Twitter.

68. Twitter or Tumblr? I don't use Twitter.

69. Are you watching TV right now? Nope, not even listening to music.

70. Names of your best friends? I'd rather not without their permission, and I don’t plan on asking, so...

71. Craving something? What? Sushi...

72. What color are your towels? White. I hate colored towels, it’s hard to see if they’re wet or dirty.

72. How many pillows do you sleep with? One thin one.

73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals? No. I love plushies, it’s unfortunate I’m allergic to dust (and too lazy to wash them every week).

74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have? I donated all the ones I had as a child.

75. Favorite animal? Arctic foxes, aka the cutest creatures alive.

76. What color is your underwear? Lol! Black.

77. Chocolate or Vanilla? Chocolate all the way.

78. Favorite ice cream flavor? Chocolate/hazelnut, bubblegum, and mint.

79. What color shirt are you wearing? Dark gray pajamas.

80. What color pants? Dark gray sweatpants.

81. Favorite TV show? I have only seriously watched The Big Bang Theory, Steven's Universe and House for now. Oh and Cosmos!

82. Favorite movie? Can't choose. Maybe that version of Frankenstein that came out in 2015. I really liked that movie for some reason.

83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2? Uh.

84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street? Uh.

85. Favorite character from Mean Girls? Uh.

86. Favorite character from Finding Nemo? Uh... I don't know.

87. First person you talked to today? My sister.

88. Last person you talked to today? That's impossible to answer right now.

89. Name a person you hate? Nope...

90. Name a person you love? My best friend.

91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now? Yes, haha.

92. In a fight with someone? Yep.

93. How many sweatpants do you have? Three.

94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have? Four or five. I love sweaters and hoodies, I don't have enough of them.

95. Last movie you watched? Can't remember.

96. Favorite actress? Don't care about that.

97. Favorite actor? Don't care about that.

98. Do you tan a lot? I stay in the sun quite often but my skin burns instead.

99. Have any pets? Two cats and one dog, all adopted.

100. How are you feeling? Oh, we don't ask that question around here. Please don't ask. Lol, jokes aside... I'm fine right now, but I'm also always worrying about, um, everything? Like, is there any way to really cope with life? As far as I know I'm a meaningless existence doomed to disappear ignorant of everything. I don't know how I should feel and the only thing that brings me comfort is believing nothing truly matters. Still, I’m working hard in the case there’s hope for us…

101. Do you type fast? Yes.

102. Do you regret anything from your past? Yes.

103. Can you spell well? If I am calm and think before speaking. Otherwise I'm as eloquent as an excited ten-year-old.

104. Do you miss anyone from your past? I miss how some people were back then, and my friendship with some others.

105. Ever been to a bonfire party? Yes, it's great.

106. Ever broken someone’s heart? I doubt it.

107. Have you ever been on a horse? Yes, my parents took me to ride some a couple of times.

108. What should you be doing? You got me! I should be studying.

109. Is something irritating you right now? Yes. I'm expecting a friend today, and her approaching visit time is making me nervous... I can't focus until she's here - actually, I'll be like this until she leaves.

110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt? It hurts? How exactly? Even if they reciprocate your feelings? Now that I understand the question, yes. Isn’t it interesting how your mind can make your body hurt? In those times somehow my throat aches more than my heart.

111. Do you have trust issues? This question again?

112. Who was the last person you cried in front of? My mother. I broke down in the car after something really bad happened. It was a terrible year, I was dealing with suicidal thoughts, mild chronic pain, isolation, social anxiety, violent nightmares, and depression. And despite trying to stop crying immediately she told me to shut up! I'll never understand why she was that insensible. Maybe she was ignorant of my problems in a way I can't fathom because they were so obvious.

113. What was your childhood nickname? Isa, a short version of my first name.

114. Have you ever been out of your province/state? I once traveled to a different state when I was 6.

115. Do you play the Wii? I would if I had one.

116. Are you listening to music right now? No.

117. Do you like chicken noodle soup? No.

118. Do you like Chinese food? No.

119. Favorite book? Oh, this I definitely can't choose!

120. Are you afraid of the dark? Only in rational cases like walking by possibly dangerous streets. I actually find dark places comforting.

121. Are you mean? I try not to be.

122. Is cheating ever okay? I don't see how it could be.

123. Can you keep white shoes clean? Not in the least.

124. Do you believe in love at first sight? Only in attraction at first sight.

125. Do you believe in true love? I do. True, not selfless and/or unconditional love, okay? That'd be quite inhuman.

126. Are you currently bored? No, this is entertaining.

127. What makes you happy? Serotonin.

128. Would you change your name? I wouldn't care to change it.

129. What your zodiac sign? Leo.

130. Do you like the subway? When it's mostly empty, yes. It's pretty.

131. Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? Screams internally as they'll probably rather leave me than return to the friend zone.

132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? Didn't I already answer that?

133. Favorite lyrics right now? M2U - Gravity

134. Can you count to one million? Maybe in hell, that’d be a fitting task for such place.

135. Dumbest lie you ever told? I've always been a terrible liar. Once as a child, I told an obvious, cringe-worthy lie to my teacher thinking I was totally fooling her, don't recall what about. Good thing I at least noticed when she clearly didn't fall for it.

136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed? Closed.

137. How tall are you? ~1.60 cm.

138. Curly or straight hair? I love curly, messy and/or fluffy hair, but mine's straight.

139. Brunette or blonde? Brunette.

140. Summer or winter? Summer! I can't deal with this cold!

141. Night or day? Night at home, day outside. I have a love-hate relationship with daytime... Sometimes daylight makes me feel wonderful and energized and other times the brightness deeply irritates me.

142. Favorite month? November. I just like how it sounds, lol.

143. Are you a vegetarian? No.

144. Dark, milk or white chocolate? Dark.

145. Tea or Coffee? Coffee, but only with milk.

146. Was today a good day? Yes! Though today just started.

147. Mars or Snickers? Neither?

148. What’s your favorite quote? Quotes!! I have a small collection of them that I love so much I made a post about it.

149. Do you believe in ghosts? No.

150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page? Yes, finally, I'll know the answer to Everything! *leaves in search of a book* I got a dictionary. High-contrast (alto-contraste; I'll translate): technique or process to eliminate, totally or partially, the middle tones in a photo or stamp.

[myaekingheart]

So today (June 23rd) is my mom's longtime best friend's 50th birthday and so she ripped through the garage trying to find some old photos of the two of them to post on facebook but in the process, she found a ton of old photos of the three of us and I can honestly say that looking through all of them has been...an experience.

It's funny how when you're grown up, you seem to remember your childhood in hazy scenes, like a montage of perfectly stringed together but out of order moments and what you don't remember yourself is filled in with photographs. Looking through all of these old pictures dug up a lot of memories and, in the process, a lot of emotions. On one hand, there's obviously the nostalgia factor. I miss being a kid when everything seemed so simple and I didn't have a care in the world. But then I look at these pictures and I'm reminded that not everything was simple and that I wasn't careless. Sure, there's the good memories like Halloweens spent at Mickey's Not So Scary running around in princess dresses and the May Day parade from first grade where I got to wear a flower crown and dance with my friends. Those are the good memories I want to remember. There were definitely some not so good memories, though, as well, the majority of which relating to my experience with eating disorders. Looking back at myself from ten years down the line, I cannot stop cringing at how horrible I looked. I mean, for the most part anywhere from ages 6 to 15, about, were cringey as fuck just because I was an awkward, ugly, gangly kid but from about 7 to 11 were perhaps the worst possible years, overall, in regards to my appearance. Granted, things fluctuated and there were some morsels of time where I looked decent (like my ninth birthday after I cut my hair like Lucy Pevensie, which looked really cute on me and I think helped make my buck teeth, bulgy eyes, and skeleton figure far less unappealing) but for the most part, a lot of the pictures of myself from that time period are drowning in current seas of regret. To be blunt, I was always "the runt" of the litter even when I was a healthy weight. I was always small, the shortest in the class, the baby. When I got to be around age seven, however, things got a little extreme. Maybe I always had a weird relationship with food and I just can't remember the earlier days. My dad told me that when I was a kid, I never wanted to eat and that they would never force me because if they tried, I'd yell at them and throw a fit so they just let me eat whatever I wanted whenever I wanted. I don't quite remember all that, but I do remember restricting myself at a very young age. I feel like I was relatively fine up until the time I turned seven, which I distinctly remember being a massive turning point in my life. I know I was bullied frequently as a kid, or at least frequently enough (my most vivid memories being that of this huge girl in third grade who'd shove me on the playground, threaten to beat me up, all around a very harassing and domineering kid). I made friends easily for a short while, though, like preschool through first grade I believe. When I got to second grade, though, something switched. There was a change, like the train slowed down and someone switched the tracks over. I'd come home from school moody every day, lashing out at my parents. I dropped all my "baby fat" and kind of went into this downward spiral to skeleton-hood. I had friends and I had enemies much like any other kid my age, one of which perhaps being my teacher who I remember being very strict and particular (she was the kind of person who made us use those rubber grips on our pencils that forced us to hold them a certain way and she'd get pissed at us if we took them off and held them how we wanted, which I understand was probably to help the kids who just held the entire thing in their fist but I never had that problem and her desperation to condition me to hold my pencil differently honestly put a lot of strain on my academics because it made writing far more difficult and made me insanely paranoid about her ridiculing me). From that point onward, it was just a downward spiral. Maybe she is the definitive source of all my self doubt and ridicule, like the starting point for everything else, the first peg knocked down, the first brick kicked from the wall which all the other bricks eventually were to fall from. I mean, obviously that wasn't the only thing. There was my parent's financial difficulties, living in a different house every year, that one time we got evicted and lived in a hotel for, like, a week, and being bullied among probably some other things but the more I think about it, the more I realize that perhaps she was the very first stone laid down on the foundation. Either way, all I know is that it wasn't until I was in her class that I started downfalling and my weight was no exception. I have very vivid memories regarding my weight and my eating habits from my childhood. I'm emetophobic. I always have been and I probably always will. That has played a huge role in my eating disorder even to this day. Yeah, I've got some body dysmorphia but I never thought I was fat and needed to lose weight. It was more like I never saw how badly I needed to gain it. I thought I was fine. I only ever remember having a few fleeting thoughts here and there but for the most part, I was fine. I thought I looked perfectly okay and acceptable. It wasn't me who had the problem. It was the people making clothes sizes too big, forcing me to pin my pants one or two inches at the side to keep them from falling down. I remember hiding behind a tree at recess the very first day of third grade because the pin on my jeans came undone and I couldn't refasten it and without it, my pants were falling all the way down to my ankles. I remember wearing size 2T skorts in 3rd and 4th grade because they fit me. I remember stepping on the scale one day at, like, nine years old and seeing 38 pounds staring back at me. I remember going to the doctor's office, being told not to eat snacks before dinner and to make sure I get three meals a day in, getting an x-ray done on my arm because they wanted to make sure I didn't have some sort of bone issue because that's literally all I was: bone. I remember laying in bed having panic attacks every single night of fifth grade with no fucking clue how to stop them. I remember throwing up. I never meant to, I never wanted to, but there were times when I did and they have all stuck with me to this day. At 20 years old, I remember them far more vividly than I should.

Age three, I'm in the backseat of my grandparent's car swerving down curvy highways late at night and feeling nauseous but having to hold it back because god forbid I vomit on the pristinely kept interior. We went to a hotel (I remember it being fancy) and I puked right outside the front doors. I remember the taste in my mouth sitting in the hotel's laundry room as my mom threw my pink Dora the Explorer t-shirt into the wash to get the vomit stains out. I still feel nauseated and panicked stepping foot in their car, which even after my grandfather's death still smells just as all of his cars always have: that distinct new car smell.

Age three again and this time I'm in my dad's big green van, the one he used to transport all his merchandise to and from craft shows. We were at a rest stop and I had eaten Trix yogurt that didn't sit well and I vomited into a plastic bag-- maybe it was a Disney bag? I don't even know. From that point onward, I've hardly ever eaten yogurt again and throughout the rest of my childhood, refused to unless it was frozen to the point of having to jab it with a spoon.

I'm eleven now and it's a few days after my birthday. I opted for an assortment of cheesecake instead of regular cake because I wanted to mix things up. It's 9:34pm and I Love Lucy is on, I don't remember which episode, and I'm sitting in the living room at a TV tray scarfing down a leftover piece of cheesecake that tastes strangely like coffee. It isn't until I go to bed that I start to feel it, that churning in my stomach so distinct to when I know I'm going to be sick. I screamed for my parents, on the verge of tears, terrified. I couldn't throw up. I couldn't throw up. I beg my dad to tell me a story, hoping that if I get lost in his words, I'll drift off to sleep and forget I even feel sick. But it doesn't work and I do get sick and I'm panicked and in tears and sweating and I can't breathe. I go to school the next day nervous, clinging to myself. There was some kind of outdoor event, maybe Jump Rope for Heart, and I remember passing up doing the hundred yard dash and telling my fifth grade teacher (who was an angel) that it was because I had gotten sick the night before. She praised me for coming out at all, as if getting out of bed and showing up at school itself was some miraculous feat.

Twelve years old and the most traumatic of them all. It's the day of a big standardized math test and I wake up feeling...off. Not the usual nervousness, but something different. I lay in bed procrastinating for as long as possible before my mom forces me out of bed to get ready. I keep telling her I don't feel well but her and I both know I need to go, I have no choice. I watch Full House while I try to eat a breakfast of blueberry mini muffins with strawberry cream cheese-- it was my go-to breakfast for a while. When I get to school, I'm sitting outside in the hallways with everyone else like we always did at the beginning of the day before classes started. I still felt sick but I tried to make the best of it. My friend was chatting aimlessly next to me and mentioned something about her Fig Newton breath and that was the end of it. I had the white sleeves of my Hannah Montana hoodie over my hands, and I coughed into my right one thinking nothing of it. When I looked back at the palm of my hand, something was amiss. Vomit. Before I knew it, I was spewing it everywhere. My other friend quickly grabbed my rolling backpack in one hand and my shoulder in the other and guided me down the hallway which I proceeded to trail vomit down all in front of probably 60 of my peers, the shit bursting from behind my hand which I had clasped over my mouth in an effort to try and contain it as much as possible. I remember the one teacher, who taught history and incorporated thespianism into it, opening the door to let everyone in for the start of the day as I barrelled past puking, and the look on his face-- an expression of shock and confusion and maybe fear or disgust, I don't quite remember  which. By the time I made it to the clinic, it was finished and what was left was the aftermath. I remembered the nurse handing me this black sweater and pair of jeans to change into, probably from the lost and found, and I remember feeling unnerved at the thought of putting on someone else's clothes. I went into the bathroom and carefully wriggled out of my t-shirt, pink with turtles on it but now completely ruined, and staring quizzically at the full shower that was in there. The ride home I kept feeling like I was going to be sick again but fought back every urge. The minute I stepped inside the house, my mom guided me straight up the stairs to my bathroom and loaded me right into the tub, shampooing my hair and scrubbing my body down. I passed out on the couch for the entire duration of the morning along to the likes of Disney XD, and I remember waking up to an episode of American Dragon Jake Long and trying to force down some disgusting Subway sandwich for lunch (I never wanted anything on mine, though, so it was literally just a rubbery white roll loaded with mayo, some clammy turkey, and probably some slices of provolone). The only problem was that I couldn't eat. It was like my entire body was rejecting food and my throat would constrict whenever I tried to eat. The next day, I returned to school and my teacher brought donuts for everyone as celebration for finishing the standardized testing season. I remember staring at that glazed fucking donut, all that fried dough and sugar, and feeling so fucking sick. I couldn't eat but I needed to. The thing seemed like it was like 50 feet in diameter. Everyone was watching me. This one kid in my class was even egging me on like it was some kind of fucking keg party and I was the one forced to chug all the beer. All that pressure, that anxiety, to just fucking eat was overwhelming. In the end, I couldn't do it. I only got a couple bites in before I was finished. I was fucking humiliated. Even to this day, I'm sure that's how everyone remembers me: that girl who puked down the hallway. It's not exactly the kind of legacy I wanted to leave behind. No legacy whatsoever even would've been better than that.

I can't even begin to fathom what kind of rumors surfaced after that, but I can make some pretty valid estimates. They probably all figured I had an eating disorder. It was the only plausible explanation. I was so skinny and I never ate. I'm sure deep down they all fucking knew and even if they didn't, they probably had a feeling it was something along those lines.

There was one particular picture I came across that, out of all the other pictures we dug up tonight, took the cake for worst picture ever. It's a photograph of me from August 2007 at Universal, specifically the Marmaduke photo spot in Toon Lagoon. You know, the one where everything's sideways and you're supposed to grab onto the leash hanging down from the vertically inclined Marmaduke figurine and when you take the picture and turn it on it's side, it looks like he's dragging you through the air or whatever? It's a cute photo spot, I can't deny that, but nothing about my presence in the image is at all "cute." I'm in plaid board shorts, my clunky white sneakers, and a red and white Hawaiian print bikini top in all my nerdy anorexic glory. Seriously, I look absolutely disgusting. There is barely a square inch of fat on my entire body, all my bones are sticking out, my arms and legs are the size of toothpicks, you can see the imprint of my ribs, my feet look massive compared to my legs, my eyes are bulgy behind my oval wire frames, I've got massive buck teeth that don't fit my mouth. It's a miracle my pants are even staying up. I look like an absolute disaster and I can't even believe I had no fucking clue. I was completely oblivious to the fact that I was a walking bag of bones. I mean, I knew I was far too skinny as a child but looking at the pictures and seeing all that photographical evidence is even more haunting.

My childhood best friend came from a very Italian family and her mother would always whip up something in the kitchen for us to eat. Looking back, I swear she must've hated me because I'd take three bites and proclaim I was full. I remember the look on her face when I'd say I was finished, the expression of disappointment and insult that I wasn't eating her food. Granted, it probably wasn't just the Italian part. Surely anyone would shoot a glare like that at a girl who was stick thin and refused to eat. Either way, I should've just eaten the goddamn food in the first place. I remember after that time I got sick in fifth grade, I felt like eating after dark was a bad omen, as if the sunlight was going to protect me from a stomachache. If we hadn't had dinner yet and it was getting too late, I'd panic and refuse to eat if night had already fallen. Even after that was past, then my excuse was "I'm not supposed to be awake so I can't go downstairs and get a snack because then I'll get in trouble." As if getting a midnight snack was some sort of death sentence. My parents were never that strict and I'm sure they wouldn't be as mad at me if I was getting food in the middle of the night than they would be if they found me doing something else in the middle of the night, like sneaking out or smoking pot.

The worst part about all of this, I think, is how oblivious I was to the severity of my situation. Never did anyone look at me and tell me "I think you may have an eating disorder" or "I'm worried about you, I wish you'd eat" or something to that effect. I had no fucking clue how severely emaciated I was. I seriously thought I was fine and that's the killer. You think you're fine but you're not. You think you look normal when in reality you're sitting there with barely any meat on your bones shivering and feeling sick all the time. There's this one particular picture that my parents keep in a dog-bone-shaped frame on their nighstand of me as a kid holding one my aunt's poodles. It was probably at Eastertime because I'm in this cute little fuschia polka dot dress with frilly socks and Mary Janes. That picture has, for the longest time, been the definitive image of my "too skinny" childhood. My legs are literally nothing but bone and so are my arms. It's disgusting. But I had no fucking clue. I had no motherfucking clue. I look back at it all now and wonder how I ever even fucking survived. How I even had the energy to run around and play with my friends and go to theme parks and all that good shit. I can't even imagine now how I ever had the confidence and naivete to be the only one at a pool party comfortable enough with myself to stand in the middle of the room and just strip down meanwhile all the other girls were hiding in closets and behind dressers and laying on the floor behind the bed just so they could conceal their bodies from each other, as if seeing each other naked was illegal or something. I was probably the one who should've been hiding behind the dresser what with how sickly I looked but nope, I was totally down to just bare it all in front of everyone.

Looking back, I can't even fathom how anyone could've ever possibly thought I was cute or attractive like that. I've broken a few hearts back in my younger days (one of which probably not counting because he was before any of this started-- he was this preschooler at the academy I went to kindergarten at and every single time he'd see me, he'd run from wherever he was, even if he was in line, and kiss me) but now I can't even imagine how anyone would've thought I was even remotely attractive. The first example was this boy in my third grade class. He was a typical boy of the times, the kind who had one of those short sleeved button downs that was black with the flames on it. I remember at the very beginning of the year, he was head over heels in love with me. I remember one day near the end of class, I believe, when there weren't too many other people around, he took my hand in his and asked me on a date. We were fucking nine. I didn't like him back like that (or at least I don't think I did. How the fuck should I know? I was fucking nine) so we resorted to being just friends but honestly, even then, I can't even imagine how he or anyone else could've had a crush on me like that? Back then? When I was like that? Even in fourth grade, I had occasionally questioned whether my definitive elementary school crush liked me back. I was secretly super head over heels for him but had to hide it because he was the arch nemesis of my friend group but there were times when I swear he was flirting with me. He asked me in the library once what I was reading and I titled my head back to look at him and just busted out in uncontrollable laughter for a solid minute before awkwardly shrinking back down into my seat, and then there was the infamous "schwa" incident when we learning about that schwa thing in grammar and he and his best friend (the one who was telling me to chug on the donut day) kept whipping around and shouting "schwa" purposely making me laugh hysterically. There were signs, as far as I'm concerned, that it was possible but yet again, I look at myself back then and wonder holy shit how? How could he possibly have liked me back then even in the slightest looking the way I did? (Side note: I may have never gotten confirmation of whether he really did like me or not but I reunited with him a few years back in a college comm class and every class he'd sit at the same table as me and one time we had to pair up to share our essay plans or whatever and we were definitely flirting, no doubt about it, so at least there's that. Not that it matters now, though. If he wanted me, he should've snagged me while he had the chance 'cause I'm off the market now).

This ended up getting way longer and more ramble-y than I intended and by now it's nearly 5am and I've kind of lost track of the point. I guess the general summary here, though, is that digging up those old photos brought up a lot of old, some not-so-good memories of things and made me realize some things, as well. Feels weird making such a breakthrough in the middle of the night but oh well, whatever.

[cryptodictation]

Soccer players facing coronavirus | C …

María Rosa Insaurralde delicately opens the door that anyone would fear opening these days, because, on the other side, there is the Coronavirus. The dangerous “invisible enemy” of the world, the ghost behind the fears of millions, the biological form capable of putting in check the main economies of the world appears to him to her In its crudest expression: threatening a life, that with sacrificed effort smiles at him, speaks to him, breathes by his side, in one of the intensive care beds of the Cemic de Recoleta, where María has worked as a cleaning maid for five years. years. Her senses become hypersensitive, to feel even behind the camisole, the special 3M chinstrap, the other that covers it over, the goggles and the two pairs of gloves that protect her day by day, to return safely to her home, to meet again with her husband and daughter.

“Maria, was anyone cured of this disease?”, is heard slowly from the bed, under a chinstrap, while she purposefully cleans the door handle. “I say yes, that everything in due time, that you have to be patient Maria says. I think God put me here because I have enough stamina, but the truth is that what is lived in my work impacts a lot. It's so ugly What is seen and what is coming, even if I did not work in health, perhaps I would not believe that it is so serious. The first days I was scared, but I carried it and I knew how to face it. We are very supportive here: doctors, nurses, all of us who are part of this team. ”

And if someone within that health collective knows how to work as a teamThat is María, who has in her hands an invaluable experience: She spent 21 of her 34 years as an AFA soccer player and today is the right back for El Porvenir. With the ball suspended for almost a month, he experiences the force of the pandemic from the inside, leaving his home every day to help fight it. But she is not alone: ​​in the context of a football that is just beginning a semi-professional era, the vast majority of its protagonists combine sport with other work and, Among the almost 500 who play this contest, there are three other soccer players who also work to take care of the health of millions of Argentines.

“Think of the best hospital in Buenos Aires, the one you can think of, and imagine that 100 emergency cases and 50 mild cases of anything come in, not just coronavirus. It will collapse because it does not have the capacity or the professionals to take care of everyone at the same time. Even with the best health system, you don't get to cut everything, “he says. Nelly Silvana Quirico, and the metaphor he uses defines it completely. In addition to anesthetistSilvana -as she prefers to be called- has two decades of soccer experience and was about to sign as one of the additions to the El Porvenir goal when the coronavirus stopped the AFA transfers.

Bettiana Sonetti, Silvana Quirico and Carla Singano

Gerli's club, that when football resumes will fight the permanence because it is second to last (with five points), it brings a curiosity: of the four footballers of the Argentine First tournament that these days continue working in health, two wear his shirt. Insaurralde and QuiricoThey also met 20 years ago, when they shared a team in San Lorenzo. “We did not appear so much with Tota (Insaurralde) in the WhatsApp group that the club players have, because immediately they all put on the little hands and applause emoticons,” Quirico blushes, somewhat shyly. Suddenly they see you in superhero mode, but I'm the same as before. I'm a little embarrassed. It is good to feel that they recognize you, the effort above all, but thanks no, it is my job. “

The future goalkeeper of the black and white team is the only First player to, for being an anesthetist, knows how to intubate a patient, the maneuver that allows mechanical assistance with oxygen and which is one of the procedures with the highest risk of contagion for health personnel. Although at the Spanish Hospital, where she works under contract, they have not yet received patients from Covid-19, the player is not afraid of that scene. In an outburst of love at dawn, Quirico also signed up to collaborate when he is not working, if necessary: ​​”I signed up on the page of the City Government ad honorem, because I already have my job. Today they need us to we and I do not have any pathology, so I can help. It is important for everyone: if it is worthwhile for me to risk my family so that you are healthy, accompany me, also staying home if you can “.

Health is also lived as a passion identical to soccer in Silver, although it could well have been in Spain. If the 2009 crisis had not exploded so strongly in Europe and he had not canceled his move to Levante, perhaps today Carla Singano would be Estefanía Banini's partner in the Valencia club and it would be starring in the very tough health emergency in the Iberian country.

Reality, however, finds this Licensed in surgical instrumentation and talented left-handed coordinating a hemodynamic service Although he does not directly attend to Covid-19 cases, he must collaborate where necessary if the situation is pressing. “One chooses medicine by vocation: I love what I do and I don't mind taking risks to do what I like,” says the player who will return to Estudiantes, where she debuted and played for 13 years.. The implausible – for her and for everyone – are certain discriminatory expressions that do not avoid her or her mother Mercedes, a 60-year-old nurse with whom she shares the work in the same clinic in La Plata: when she goes out to throw the garbage, several neighbors go to inside as soon as she opens the door.

Soccer, for them three and Bettiana Sonetti (see aside), is one of those passions to hold on to recharge your energy these days. Insaurralde was the figure of the most important match of El Porvenir in this tournament: the ante-last game before football stopped, Gerli's team got their first victory in the semi-professional era and the defender was key in the victory, by 2- 1 against Lanús, with an assist and a free kick goal. “We have an incredible hunger to play again. We train every day, I run from the kitchen to the patio, I go up and under stairs,” says the owner of shirt number 20 about the routine she performs with her 10-year-old daughter, Mia. years old, a fan of soccer like her mother.

Revisiting the origin of the vocation is an exercise that soccer players also practice these days. “When I was eight years old, my grandmother Martina had dysipela and she got ulcers on her legs,” Quirico remembers. “They all seemed to heal her. At home, my old woman and my sisters had low blood pressure. And I loved it: I waited every day for the time to do it. I still remember even the proportions: it was three tablespoons of coarse salt and two of vinegar. SIf I had to be born again, I would ask to be born in the same house and have the same life: even today, I would not want to do anything else ”.

From the team of those who take care of others, the players are excited with which the appreciation on the balconies is the beginning for a necessary improvement of the health system. “The applause is very good, it is nice that they recognize us in that way, but it would be good if they recognized us not only with palms, they opened their eyes Insaurralde reflects. I charge 27 thousand pesos and there is a lot of risk that we run in health. My husband helps lung in a neighborhood club, here in Avellaneda, and, a few days ago, they organized a popular pot for 150 people. Those who have more want to give less, and those who do not have more give. It would be good that we all think of the other, because if you die, what you had to help the other, you don't take it anywhere. “

Another essential player

Bettiana Sonetti She is very shy and speaks slowly, but the passion wins over shyness when she talks about soccer, and then she lets go and happily tells about what makes her happy. Although she longs to return perhaps more than the rest – an injury took her away from the fields a month before the soccer stoppage – The left side of River plays an essential role linked to health these days that makes her an essential player in the fight against the Coronavirus: she works in a laboratory in Villa Crespo that produces dental products but, since the pandemic began, she focused on gel alcohol production, one of the most precious assets of these times.

“I try to be calm. I often use alcohol gel, I wear a chinstrap, I take care of myself, but I don't want to go crazy either. I have a slightly paranoid companion who reminds us all the time of what we are experiencing: she sends us to wash our hands and he almost throws alcohol at us as soon as he sees us, “says the soccer player, who laughs He works in the packaging sector of the production chain. By granting licenses to those who are vulnerable, in the laboratory they went from being 10 workers to six, who produce around 1,200 half-liter bottles of gel alcohol per day.

The riverplatense defender, who He played his last game on March 1 when the millionaires beat Gymnastics 4-0can't wait for this to end for to meet again the other love of his life: Olga, his mother. “He lived with me, but the lady he cares for offered him to stay this time at his house and it seemed to me the best for me and my brothers because he is in poor health and they take care that he never leaves,” he explains. Not long ago, I brought him some medicine and he couldn't bear to hug me. It was a second. We miss each other. And we are both re fagots: a tear escaped us and everything “.

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[bigmouthbadsleeper]

Movies In My Mind

I’ve always had a very vivid imagination. As a child it served me well because I was rarely bored, and as a teenager it got me through some pretty lonely times. As an adult it pretty much just annoys me. I get these thoughts in my head sometimes, these little scenarios that come out of nowhere. I don’t know how or when I started doing this, but at this point, I’ve thought of them so many times that they play out like movies in my mind. These thoughts can happen anytime- while I’m working out, driving, cleaning, working, etc.- and though I know that I have control over them, they can still cause me to have a panic attack. I realize that giving power to these scenarios is a waste of my time, but my mind often lacks reason and logic. I’ll be minding my own business, shampooing my hair, or doing some other routine task, and one of these scenarios will pop into my head and my heart will start to race and I’ll start breathing heavy. I have to remind myself that nothing has even happened, I’m still in the shower, washing my hair, and not falling down a flight of stairs exposing my holey underwear (I don’t even own holey underwear). I’ve complied a list of the most common scenarios that I torture myself with on a regular basis. You might be wondering, why is she sharing this with the world? I guess it’s because I think it’s kind of funny, and I’m hoping someone else will find it funny, too. Also, I figure I can’t be the only one who does this. Maybe someone else out there can relate, and we can bond over the ridiculousness of our brains.

Tripping, falling, and exposing my underwear. Okay, so this has actually kind of happened to me once. I was walking down the hall at church, in between classes, and I saw a friend I hadn’t seen in a while. I headed towards her to say hello, and somehow my skirt fell off! I didn’t even notice it was happening until the skirt was at my ankles, restricting my steps. I still cringe every time I think about it. I mean how do you even recover from that?? Full disclosure: I was wearing Spanx. I don’t know if that makes it better or worse, but I’m inclined to say it’s worse.

Letting go of my steering wheel on a curved road. Would I ever do this? No. But what freaks me out is that I COULD IF I WANTED TO. Doesn’t it ever make you rethink things when you realize how in control of your own destiny you are? I’ll be driving and the thought will come to me and I will start to wonder things like, “Where would my car go?”, or “How long would it be before my car stopped moving? Would it just stop, or would it stop because it crashes into a wall?” Oh yeah, I’m driving right now. Better pay attention. Yikes.

Falling off of the treadmill/elliptical. If I were the star of my own television show, there’d be a scene where I fall off of my treadmill at least five times per season. “But wouldn’t that get old?” you might ask? No, it would not. Falling is always top comedy. Falling while on a fast-paced, moving belt just makes it that much funnier. This has only come close to happening one time when I had a tangled up earbud fiasco. I got a little too cocky and tried to untangle the rat’s nest while I was running. I managed to get my footing and stop myself from falling, but it was a close call, guys. So close that I’m starting to sweat right now just thinking about it.

Losing a tooth. Not like losing a tooth when I was a kid and they were bb teeth that were meant to be lost. Like losing a fully grown, high school graduate, adult tooth. This is probably my biggest fear. It started when I was young, probably because I saw an episode of Jerry Springer or some other daytime talk show and there was a person sans teeth on there, which of course led me to freak out about the state of my own bicuspids. What would I do if my tooth got knocked out?? Once I read that if it happens, you should put the tooth in milk to preserve it, which is why I always carry a packet of milk with me. JK I don’t, but I really have thought about it because that’s how scared I am of this happening to me. Seriously you guys, HOW WOULD I RECOVER FROM THAT? I am pretty positive I couldn’t rock the missing teeth look. And this is coming from a girl who used to wear sweat pants with the name JOE JONAS emblazened on the legs out in public. In her twenties. On the regular.

Walking into the men’s room on accident. I’m going to be really honest here, the men’s room is a complete mystery to me. I have no idea what goes on in there. I caught a glimpse of one once and there were toilets on the ground- ON THE GROUND I SAY!! That seems risky to me. Usually this paranoia hits me after I’ve finished running on the elliptical at the gym and I’ve still got my headphones on and I’m all disoriented and sweaty. I mean, the boy and girl restrooms are right next to each other, I could easily meander into the wrong side! Most of the restrooms I see are marked with an “M” or a “W” which is practically the same letter even! Whose idea was that?? I think this fear might be rooted in the fact that when I was in high school, I had a job as a janitor basically, cleaning a medical office. I thought no one was left in the office so I was just carrying on like I owned the place, and stormed right into the bathroom with my cleaning supplies in my hands and I walked in on a guy going pee! I really did this! And guess what he did?? This image still haunts me to this day. He kept peeing, turned his head around, gave me a little nod, and calmly said, “Sup?” A part of me died in the bathroom that day, my friends. I can’t talk about it anymore because I am getting shortness of breath just remembering the harrowing details.

Ripping up money. Now this is one I would definitely never do, obviously!! But one day I was playing with a hundred dollar bill (because that’s what hundredaires like myself do in their free time) and I thought about how easily I could rip it into pieces and I would be $100 less rich. How weird is that? Money is just paper?? Is that really the best system for our currency? I could be $100 less rich with one tear. Ugh. That scares me worse than the Chucky movies, if I’m being honest.

Sending the wrong text to the wrong person. This one plagues me on a daily basis, because I am an avid texter, and I text multiple people throughout the day. I’m married now, but when I was single I used to make myself sick worrying about sending a text ABOUT the guy I like and the details of our non-relationship TO the guy I like, instead of to my friend. What if my boss gets the text I meant to send to my mom where I vent about my job? Or worse, what if someone (anyone) gets the text I meant to send to my mom about how I really need to have a poo but can’t go in the toilets at work? I know what you’re thinking, I shouldn’t be texting these things to people. You’re wrong. These are exactly the types of things I should be texting to people. You may also be curious as to why I text my mom about my bowel movement issues. Don’t worry. A healthy poo text is normal every once in a while.

Cutting off a chunk of my hair with craft scissors. Let me preface this one by saying that I am in a constant state of growing my hair out. I am forever wanting long hair and lacking the patience it takes to get it. All of the work I’ve been putting into having long hair would be for nothing with one snip. Sometimes I think about that scene in Sixteen Candles where Caroline gets her hair stuck in a locked door at Jake Ryan’s house and her friends get her out by cutting off the backside of her hair with scissors they found laying around the house! That scene chills. Me. To. The. Bone.

Divorce. I honestly don’t know why this terrifies me so much but I think it’s because I find it so terribly, horribly sad. I once read a statistic that said 50% of marriages end in divorce and right there on the spot I started to feel tightness in my chest. I think the very thought of something that was once so happy and full of love disolving and falling apart scares me. It leads to lots of invasive and paranoid thoughts about love. How do you ever really know if someone is right for you? How do you know that someone won’t fall out of love with you, or hurt you, etc. You know, the usual sad cocktail. It’s just like universal smart woman June Carter Cash said, “It burns, burns, burns.” Being with my husband has really helped me calm down about broken love in relation to myself, but I still worry a great deal about all the other relationships out there. It doesn’t matter if I know them personally or not. I still haven’t fully processed Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie’s divorce, and I can make myself depressed just by thinking about Johnny Depp and Winona Ryder’s breakup, and they were never even married! I have so many feelings, my friends. So many.

Good news, these irrational fears actually have a clinical name! They’re called “intrusive thoughts”, and according to the internet (v reliable source for information), four out of five people experience intrusive thoughts on a regular basis. An intrusive thought is described as “an unwelcome involuntary thought, image, or unpleasant idea that may become an obsession, is upsetting or distressing, and can feel difficult to manage or eliminate.” If that aint me, right? I don’t know if it’s more comforting to have a name for what I’m experiencing, or if it makes me feel more insane. It’s nice to know that I’m not the only one going through this, though. It makes me feel better to know that I’m not alone, and that there are others who can relate to me. That’s what life is all about, I think; connecting with others by sharing our experiences with them. Kinda makes all the difficult stuff we go through seem special, doesn’t it?

[shareyoursmile]

True Concessions: Our Movie-Snacking Behaviors, Ex...

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True Concessions: Our Movie-Snacking Behaviors, Ex...

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[Illustrations: Vivian Kong]

Serious Eats staffers work very closely together, if not always in the same room—but, as in all healthy long-term relationships, we somehow still manage to surprise each other, in good ways, bad ways, and purely head-scratching ways. A very long and aggrieved Slack thread unspooled once we discovered some potentially embarrassing gaps in each other’s eating histories: Until recently, Stella had never eaten a classic NYC bacon, egg, and cheese, and Niki was unclear on the proper use of a Panera-style bread bowl. The revelation that, despite repeated admonishments on this very site, only a few of us actually owned a mortar and pestle prompted similar outrage (from Kenji, at least).

One of the latest rabbit holes of confession and mock shaming we threw ourselves down revolved around our respective movie snacks of choice—not just the specific items we like to munch on in the theater, but where we get those snacks from, and whether we even snack at all. If that doesn’t sound like something to get all worked up about—well, it isn’t, but that’s never stopped us before. It turns out that we, and perhaps all moviegoers, divide pretty neatly into four distinct camps, with very little crossover: those who buy the typical popcorn, boxed candy, and big sodas at the theater’s concession stand; those who don’t eat at the movies, period (really!); those who sneak in their own modest, easily hidden snacks; and those who make a point of smuggling in the biggest or messiest or otherwise most outlandish spreads they can muster. (Of course, “outlandish” is a relative term—one of us seemed surprised to learn that a bottle of Champagne qualified.) Since it’s Oscar season, a time when lots of us try to cram in as many theater outings as possible, we figured we’d take the opportunity to share the shocking results of our internal survey.

The Sushi Smuggler

Growing up, I thought the phrase “dinner and a movie” was actually “dinner at the movies.” Sure, we’d occasionally sneak in traditional snacks, like cheesy popcorn and cans of soda, but if the movie happened to coincide with a mealtime, we packed accordingly. My family’s go-to movie theater dinner was sushi—something I didn’t contemplate much at the time, but I now see it as a stroke of unparalleled genius on my parents’ part. A prepackaged roll combo is, without doubt, the Platonic ideal of a stealthy movie theater meal.

Before you roll (no pun intended) your eyes, consider the following: It’s compact, and thus easy to hide at the bottom of a purse; it’s sufficiently odorless to avoid attracting attention or offending your neighbors’ sensibilities; it is, if properly selected, devoid of any crunch, making it a virtually silent, interruption-free dining experience; the pieces are bite-size and therefore can be eaten with your hands, minimizing the potential mess of eating, say, noodles, in the dark; and it’s a cinch to clean up and dispose of without attracting notice as you exit the theater. (I should add that I’ve also been known to bring along a cleverly concealed bottle of wine to wash things down.) My husband finds the whole sushi/sneaking-in-food thing gross and embarrassing, so these days we tend to go to theaters that actually serve all sorts of fancy food and alcoholic beverages above board. But, as the saying goes, when the cat’s away, the mouse goes to the movies and stuffs her face with sushi. —Niki Achitoff-Gray, executive managing editor

The Cherry Picker

The rest of the Serious Eats team judged me pretty harshly on my pick, but I stand by it: fresh sweet cherries. Sure, they’re messier than other snacks, you have to have somewhere (that isn’t the theater floor) to spit out the pits, and they’re not what one would consider an indulgent snack, but I’m hooked. A, they’re delicious. B, the act of eating them takes some time, so they last longer than the popcorn you mindlessly shovel into your mouth. C, they’re good for you! —Vicky Wasik, visual director

The Traditionalists

I’m not an avid movie theater–goer, but every so often, I will indulge in a little weekday-afternoon alone time in a near-empty, darkened room illuminated by brightly colored, flashing images, accompanied only by a bucket of ultra-fake-buttered and salted popcorn on one side and, on the other, a Coke in a giant plastic vessel that could fit a bathing infant. The expense I gladly eat, literally and financially, for the illicit thrill invoked by residual school-age guilt for “playing hooky” and doing something so luxurious and truant. Everyone’s gotta get their kicks somehow, right? —Marissa Chen, office manager

I have to start by saying that I’m a pretty fast movie-snack eater—so much so that when I was little, my dad would ration my popcorn by putting a handful in my lap at a time. Otherwise, it would be gone a few minutes after the previews. That said, as an adult, I am 100% dedicated to Milk Duds, and, while I hate paying for them, I do anyway. I know my colleagues may look upon my choices with disdain, but alas: I buy my Milk Duds at the concession stand, like a total sucker. Then I eat them all before the movie even starts. —Ariel Kanter, marketing director

I believe the majority of the fun of going to the movies is to hit up the concession stand. I’m that person who arrives 30 minutes early to stock up on overpriced cardboard boxes of Mike and Ike and Sour Patch Kids—because I’m convinced they taste better out of a box. I’ve broken up with boyfriends solely because they took the thrifty route and chose to buy snacks at the bodega across the street instead. However, I’m a strict non-eater once the movie actually starts—the snacks are all about the pregame, to nosh on while watching the previews and side eye–ing anyone who tries to snag the seats in front of me. —Sohla El-Waylly, assistant culinary editor

I love movies, but more than that, I love the experience of going to the theater. It’s not just that it offers me an excuse to opt out of social media and email for a few hours, nor is it really about the superior picture and sound (even a basic theater is better than my garage-turned-den). It’s not just the excitement of seeing a brand-new release, and it’s definitely not about sitting with fellow theater-goers (thanks, guy sitting next to me during Black Panther who felt compelled to read every single piece of on-screen text out loud). It’s about one thing, or rather, one greasy bag of many things: movie theater popcorn. I’m attracted to the smell of diacetyl and coconut fat—the secret combination of artificial flavorings that produces that distinct movie theater aroma—like my daughter, Alicia, is attracted to the dogs’ water bowl. I can make all the promises to myself I want about saving room for dinner, but those promises go out the window as soon as I step through those doors. My feet start heading for the concession stand, and the rest of my body has no choice but to follow.

This is not a secret. Movie theater popcorn is my go-to comfort food. That I get to watch a film every time I eat it is just the icing on the cake (or the diacetyl on the kernels, perhaps). —J. Kenji López-Alt, chief culinary consultant

The Cheapskates

Listen. Just last night, I didn’t prepare before going to the movies. I am now out $13.95 for a medium popcorn and a bottle of water. This is the polar opposite of my M.O., which is to shamelessly sneak my own bag of popcorn and seltzer into the theater. My usual strategy is to pick a theater near a Trader Joe’s, so I can stop in and get a bag of cheddar cheese popcorn, or their insanely delicious Cornbread Crisps, and a Cranberry Clementine seltzer. And those crisps make a bomb vehicle for transporting your homemade chili to your mouth. Trust me. No local TJ’s? A bag of Buncha Crunch and a Sprite from the drugstore will do. —Kristina Bornholtz, social media editor

Like all right-thinking Americans, I was raised to believe that sneaking food into the movies is as natural and healthy as a long walk in the sunshine, and that buying concessions at the theater is for chumps. It helps that I’m not wild about popcorn and instead gravitate toward Junior Mints, Combos, and Raisinets, all of which are conveniently available at the Dollar Tree that’s a stone’s throw from our default movie theater in Atlanta (and you know that location isn’t an accident). And, while I’ve never ventured to smuggle anything more elaborate than a deli sandwich into an indoor cinema, no rules of restraint apply when we visit the Starlight Six Drive-In, a blessed local relic from another time, where summertime patrons regularly tote in full coolers of beer and Weber grills for a tailgate/movie night hybrid. —Miranda Kaplan, editor

You will rarely find me in a concession line: I’m too cheap for those overpriced goods, and too paranoid about candy-induced sugar highs. Not the biggest fan of popcorn, either; my junk food needs an edge. My ideal movie date involves a quick bodega trip beforehand, where I procure seltzer and—wait for it—pretzel M&M’s. That is my junk-food staple. I tell myself they aren’t as bad as regular M&M’s, and they hit my requirement for a savory/sweet combo. The seltzer is key, too—like clockwork, a pending movie stirs a deep thirst in me for carbonated water. Sitting through a movie whilst thirsty and hungry is my personal version of a horror film. —Natalie Holt, video producer

I’ve discovered that using your kid as a candy mule is the white lie of retail economy. I wasn’t always like this. I used to be an honest, upstanding citizen, like you. For most of my adult life, I either purchased popcorn or, more often, didn’t eat at all. But, once we got married, my wife started sneaking candy into the theaters to quell her sweet tooth and—well, I’m not turning down Twizzlers. Who would?

When we first started bringing our daughter to the movies, we’d casually present the goods after the previews. Now that she’s older, she’s part of the scam/effort. We have a perfect record of sneaking in candy because, really, is the high school kid ripping stubs while he checks out Instagram going to stop a seven-year-old and poke her coat? I load up on a package of some chocolate-covered nut, my wife keeps it classic with M&M’s, and my daughter’s the wild card—sometimes it’s gummy bears, or it could be Reese’s Pieces. —Sal Vaglica, equipment editor

If it were just me, I wouldn’t be eating anything. I’m too cheap to even glance at the outrageously priced concession stand items, and too lazy and bagless to smuggle snacks in. My significant other is often not bagless, however, so when we go together, we sneak all kinds of things in. My favorite is the massive, Costco-sized bag of M&M’s: easy, clean, delicious. The most memorable snack we’ve ever brought was a full bag of Hurricane popcorn, which technically we smuggled all the way from Hawaii. The Li Hing–flavored version is vibrantly red, and we did not bring napkins, which made for a messy-fingered second half of the movie. Totally worth it, but word of advice: No matter what you bring, prep for the mess. —Tim Aikens, front-end developer

The Takeout Taker-Inner

When we were—well, I won’t say kids, since I was old enough to drive, but…younger than we are today, my brother and I were notorious for sneaking Chinese takeout into the movie theater. I’m talking pot stickers, egg rolls, spicy noodles, kung pao tofu, scallion pancakes, the works. We’d just stuff all the containers inside this gargantuan yellow puffer coat he had (ah, the ’90s), using it like an insulated pizza-delivery bag. As it turns out, those iconic Chinese takeout containers are just the right size to nestle down into a movie theater cup holder, so we’d set up a little buffet using four consecutive arm rests. Chopsticks made it easy to eat in the dark, and we’d pass the containers between us during brightly lit scenes.

In warmer weather, lacking the proper outerwear for smuggling, we’d stick to popcorn (extra “butter,” please) and Milk Duds. —Stella Parks, pastry wizard

The Killjoys

If I could ban all eating in movie theaters, I would. I don’t want to hear some sloppy-ass mofo smacking on popcorn in my ear when I’m trying to watch a movie. I’d give up all snacks for silence. All you movie-theater eaters can BURN IN HELL. (I have issues.) —Daniel Gritzer, managing culinary director

I’m cheap. I also don’t like candy. I’m not a big fan of popcorn, either. I smuggle in a water bottle, but then I drink from it only if I’m terribly, terribly parched, because the one thing I hate more than watching a movie in a packed theater is having to get up to go to the bathroom in a packed movie theater. Sometimes I’ll bring with me a small, smooth stone, which I will suck on from time to time, and sometimes swallow, if the movie is going long and I’m really bored. I’ve had that stone for 10 years now. —Sho Spaeth, features editor

I’m almost always on the do-not-eat team—I’d rather spend my $20 on better food before or after the movie (I see you, Battery Park Shake Shack!). But occasionally, I succumb and buy popcorn and a Coca-Cola Classic. Ideally, this happens at a theater with self-service “butter,” and, even more ideally, I’ll get a cardboard tray to help me shift the popcorn around, so I can properly spread said butter to the deepest reaches of the bag. —Paul Cline, developer

I only snack on chips and anything crunchy, but the sound of me munching distracts me from the movie. So, no snacks. —Vivian Kong, product designer

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[cucinacarmela-blog]

True Concessions: Our Movie-Snacking Behaviors, Ex...

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True Concessions: Our Movie-Snacking Behaviors, Ex...

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[Illustrations: Vivian Kong]

Serious Eats staffers work very closely together, if not always in the same room—but, as in all healthy long-term relationships, we somehow still manage to surprise each other, in good ways, bad ways, and purely head-scratching ways. A very long and aggrieved Slack thread unspooled once we discovered some potentially embarrassing gaps in each other’s eating histories: Until recently, Stella had never eaten a classic NYC bacon, egg, and cheese, and Niki was unclear on the proper use of a Panera-style bread bowl. The revelation that, despite repeated admonishments on this very site, only a few of us actually owned a mortar and pestle prompted similar outrage (from Kenji, at least).

One of the latest rabbit holes of confession and mock shaming we threw ourselves down revolved around our respective movie snacks of choice—not just the specific items we like to munch on in the theater, but where we get those snacks from, and whether we even snack at all. If that doesn’t sound like something to get all worked up about—well, it isn’t, but that’s never stopped us before. It turns out that we, and perhaps all moviegoers, divide pretty neatly into four distinct camps, with very little crossover: those who buy the typical popcorn, boxed candy, and big sodas at the theater’s concession stand; those who don’t eat at the movies, period (really!); those who sneak in their own modest, easily hidden snacks; and those who make a point of smuggling in the biggest or messiest or otherwise most outlandish spreads they can muster. (Of course, “outlandish” is a relative term—one of us seemed surprised to learn that a bottle of Champagne qualified.) Since it’s Oscar season, a time when lots of us try to cram in as many theater outings as possible, we figured we’d take the opportunity to share the shocking results of our internal survey.

The Sushi Smuggler

Growing up, I thought the phrase “dinner and a movie” was actually “dinner at the movies.” Sure, we’d occasionally sneak in traditional snacks, like cheesy popcorn and cans of soda, but if the movie happened to coincide with a mealtime, we packed accordingly. My family’s go-to movie theater dinner was sushi—something I didn’t contemplate much at the time, but I now see it as a stroke of unparalleled genius on my parents’ part. A prepackaged roll combo is, without doubt, the Platonic ideal of a stealthy movie theater meal.

Before you roll (no pun intended) your eyes, consider the following: It’s compact, and thus easy to hide at the bottom of a purse; it’s sufficiently odorless to avoid attracting attention or offending your neighbors’ sensibilities; it is, if properly selected, devoid of any crunch, making it a virtually silent, interruption-free dining experience; the pieces are bite-size and therefore can be eaten with your hands, minimizing the potential mess of eating, say, noodles, in the dark; and it’s a cinch to clean up and dispose of without attracting notice as you exit the theater. (I should add that I’ve also been known to bring along a cleverly concealed bottle of wine to wash things down.) My husband finds the whole sushi/sneaking-in-food thing gross and embarrassing, so these days we tend to go to theaters that actually serve all sorts of fancy food and alcoholic beverages above board. But, as the saying goes, when the cat’s away, the mouse goes to the movies and stuffs her face with sushi. —Niki Achitoff-Gray, executive managing editor

The Cherry Picker

The rest of the Serious Eats team judged me pretty harshly on my pick, but I stand by it: fresh sweet cherries. Sure, they’re messier than other snacks, you have to have somewhere (that isn’t the theater floor) to spit out the pits, and they’re not what one would consider an indulgent snack, but I’m hooked. A, they’re delicious. B, the act of eating them takes some time, so they last longer than the popcorn you mindlessly shovel into your mouth. C, they’re good for you! —Vicky Wasik, visual director

The Traditionalists

I’m not an avid movie theater–goer, but every so often, I will indulge in a little weekday-afternoon alone time in a near-empty, darkened room illuminated by brightly colored, flashing images, accompanied only by a bucket of ultra-fake-buttered and salted popcorn on one side and, on the other, a Coke in a giant plastic vessel that could fit a bathing infant. The expense I gladly eat, literally and financially, for the illicit thrill invoked by residual school-age guilt for “playing hooky” and doing something so luxurious and truant. Everyone’s gotta get their kicks somehow, right? —Marissa Chen, office manager

I have to start by saying that I’m a pretty fast movie-snack eater—so much so that when I was little, my dad would ration my popcorn by putting a handful in my lap at a time. Otherwise, it would be gone a few minutes after the previews. That said, as an adult, I am 100% dedicated to Milk Duds, and, while I hate paying for them, I do anyway. I know my colleagues may look upon my choices with disdain, but alas: I buy my Milk Duds at the concession stand, like a total sucker. Then I eat them all before the movie even starts. —Ariel Kanter, marketing director

I believe the majority of the fun of going to the movies is to hit up the concession stand. I’m that person who arrives 30 minutes early to stock up on overpriced cardboard boxes of Mike and Ike and Sour Patch Kids—because I’m convinced they taste better out of a box. I’ve broken up with boyfriends solely because they took the thrifty route and chose to buy snacks at the bodega across the street instead. However, I’m a strict non-eater once the movie actually starts—the snacks are all about the pregame, to nosh on while watching the previews and side eye–ing anyone who tries to snag the seats in front of me. —Sohla El-Waylly, assistant culinary editor

I love movies, but more than that, I love the experience of going to the theater. It’s not just that it offers me an excuse to opt out of social media and email for a few hours, nor is it really about the superior picture and sound (even a basic theater is better than my garage-turned-den). It’s not just the excitement of seeing a brand-new release, and it’s definitely not about sitting with fellow theater-goers (thanks, guy sitting next to me during Black Panther who felt compelled to read every single piece of on-screen text out loud). It’s about one thing, or rather, one greasy bag of many things: movie theater popcorn. I’m attracted to the smell of diacetyl and coconut fat—the secret combination of artificial flavorings that produces that distinct movie theater aroma—like my daughter, Alicia, is attracted to the dogs’ water bowl. I can make all the promises to myself I want about saving room for dinner, but those promises go out the window as soon as I step through those doors. My feet start heading for the concession stand, and the rest of my body has no choice but to follow.

This is not a secret. Movie theater popcorn is my go-to comfort food. That I get to watch a film every time I eat it is just the icing on the cake (or the diacetyl on the kernels, perhaps). —J. Kenji López-Alt, chief culinary consultant

The Cheapskates

Listen. Just last night, I didn’t prepare before going to the movies. I am now out $13.95 for a medium popcorn and a bottle of water. This is the polar opposite of my M.O., which is to shamelessly sneak my own bag of popcorn and seltzer into the theater. My usual strategy is to pick a theater near a Trader Joe’s, so I can stop in and get a bag of cheddar cheese popcorn, or their insanely delicious Cornbread Crisps, and a Cranberry Clementine seltzer. And those crisps make a bomb vehicle for transporting your homemade chili to your mouth. Trust me. No local TJ’s? A bag of Buncha Crunch and a Sprite from the drugstore will do. —Kristina Bornholtz, social media editor

Like all right-thinking Americans, I was raised to believe that sneaking food into the movies is as natural and healthy as a long walk in the sunshine, and that buying concessions at the theater is for chumps. It helps that I’m not wild about popcorn and instead gravitate toward Junior Mints, Combos, and Raisinets, all of which are conveniently available at the Dollar Tree that’s a stone’s throw from our default movie theater in Atlanta (and you know that location isn’t an accident). And, while I’ve never ventured to smuggle anything more elaborate than a deli sandwich into an indoor cinema, no rules of restraint apply when we visit the Starlight Six Drive-In, a blessed local relic from another time, where summertime patrons regularly tote in full coolers of beer and Weber grills for a tailgate/movie night hybrid. —Miranda Kaplan, editor

You will rarely find me in a concession line: I’m too cheap for those overpriced goods, and too paranoid about candy-induced sugar highs. Not the biggest fan of popcorn, either; my junk food needs an edge. My ideal movie date involves a quick bodega trip beforehand, where I procure seltzer and—wait for it—pretzel M&M’s. That is my junk-food staple. I tell myself they aren’t as bad as regular M&M’s, and they hit my requirement for a savory/sweet combo. The seltzer is key, too—like clockwork, a pending movie stirs a deep thirst in me for carbonated water. Sitting through a movie whilst thirsty and hungry is my personal version of a horror film. —Natalie Holt, video producer

I’ve discovered that using your kid as a candy mule is the white lie of retail economy. I wasn’t always like this. I used to be an honest, upstanding citizen, like you. For most of my adult life, I either purchased popcorn or, more often, didn’t eat at all. But, once we got married, my wife started sneaking candy into the theaters to quell her sweet tooth and—well, I’m not turning down Twizzlers. Who would?

When we first started bringing our daughter to the movies, we’d casually present the goods after the previews. Now that she’s older, she’s part of the scam/effort. We have a perfect record of sneaking in candy because, really, is the high school kid ripping stubs while he checks out Instagram going to stop a seven-year-old and poke her coat? I load up on a package of some chocolate-covered nut, my wife keeps it classic with M&M’s, and my daughter’s the wild card—sometimes it’s gummy bears, or it could be Reese’s Pieces. —Sal Vaglica, equipment editor

If it were just me, I wouldn’t be eating anything. I’m too cheap to even glance at the outrageously priced concession stand items, and too lazy and bagless to smuggle snacks in. My significant other is often not bagless, however, so when we go together, we sneak all kinds of things in. My favorite is the massive, Costco-sized bag of M&M’s: easy, clean, delicious. The most memorable snack we’ve ever brought was a full bag of Hurricane popcorn, which technically we smuggled all the way from Hawaii. The Li Hing–flavored version is vibrantly red, and we did not bring napkins, which made for a messy-fingered second half of the movie. Totally worth it, but word of advice: No matter what you bring, prep for the mess. —Tim Aikens, front-end developer

The Takeout Taker-Inner

When we were—well, I won’t say kids, since I was old enough to drive, but…younger than we are today, my brother and I were notorious for sneaking Chinese takeout into the movie theater. I’m talking pot stickers, egg rolls, spicy noodles, kung pao tofu, scallion pancakes, the works. We’d just stuff all the containers inside this gargantuan yellow puffer coat he had (ah, the ’90s), using it like an insulated pizza-delivery bag. As it turns out, those iconic Chinese takeout containers are just the right size to nestle down into a movie theater cup holder, so we’d set up a little buffet using four consecutive arm rests. Chopsticks made it easy to eat in the dark, and we’d pass the containers between us during brightly lit scenes.

In warmer weather, lacking the proper outerwear for smuggling, we’d stick to popcorn (extra “butter,” please) and Milk Duds. —Stella Parks, pastry wizard

The Killjoys

If I could ban all eating in movie theaters, I would. I don’t want to hear some sloppy-ass mofo smacking on popcorn in my ear when I’m trying to watch a movie. I’d give up all snacks for silence. All you movie-theater eaters can BURN IN HELL. (I have issues.) —Daniel Gritzer, managing culinary director

I’m cheap. I also don’t like candy. I’m not a big fan of popcorn, either. I smuggle in a water bottle, but then I drink from it only if I’m terribly, terribly parched, because the one thing I hate more than watching a movie in a packed theater is having to get up to go to the bathroom in a packed movie theater. Sometimes I’ll bring with me a small, smooth stone, which I will suck on from time to time, and sometimes swallow, if the movie is going long and I’m really bored. I’ve had that stone for 10 years now. —Sho Spaeth, features editor

I’m almost always on the do-not-eat team—I’d rather spend my $20 on better food before or after the movie (I see you, Battery Park Shake Shack!). But occasionally, I succumb and buy popcorn and a Coca-Cola Classic. Ideally, this happens at a theater with self-service “butter,” and, even more ideally, I’ll get a cardboard tray to help me shift the popcorn around, so I can properly spread said butter to the deepest reaches of the bag. —Paul Cline, developer

I only snack on chips and anything crunchy, but the sound of me munching distracts me from the movie. So, no snacks. —Vivian Kong, product designer

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[dandelliongirl]

Haven’t blogged

since January.

Whoops? I don’t really mind though because even though a lot has happened it doesn’t feel like that much.

So the last time I blogged I was going to see The Greatest Showman. It was a really pretty movie with great music but the plot wasn’t that great. Also the romance between Zac Efron and Zendaya’s characters was super plastered on. Would watch again but would not buy on DVD/BluRay.

I’ve been working hard on my thesis and my last two course essays. It was so freaking hard to motivate myself and go through everything I needed to do but I DID IT. I handed my thesis in on 18/02/2018 as planned. Finishing my MA thesis up has to have been the hardest thing I’ve done in my life thus far just because it took so much effort and self control and every last ounce of motivation I had to squeeze it out of myself. I had to go through a couple more books and lots of biographies but In the end I’m pertty happy with my work. Yes, I could’ve made it a lot better by rewriting parts of it and proofreading more but within the limits of what’s reasonable to do and what my supervisor suggested I think I’ve done the best I could, and can honestly be proud of the work I’ve done. I handed in my two essays on the 9th of February and they both got a grade of 4/5 so considering the amount of care I had for those essays and how half-assed I wrote them I’m positively surprised. So yeah, university is all done now? I’m just waiting to hear back from my supervisor and waiting to get all my credits in so that I can apply for my Master’s Degree. It feels really REALLY good to be able to finally focus on applying for jobs and doing my other work properly. ♥ I can also focus on myself and my house. And video games. And springtime.☼

On the first weekend of February me and my friend went to my family’s summer house with mum and dad to do a photoshoot. It was a perfectly clear and freezing cold winter day and the photos from the icy lake turned out absolutely gorgeous. We had some bread and sausages and warm tea in the sunny main room of our summer house.♥ I feel kind of bad now though because the rest of the photos we have taken so far for this project aren’t up to par with the new pictures. It’s not like there’s a deadline or anything so we can just retake stuff if needed. I guess taking photos that are too gorgeous is a positive problem to have?

Me and my JLPT friend celebrated my passing grade and her confirmed student exchange in Japan with some blueberry pie that she made for us. It was awesome to see her again and probably for the second time ever we did not study for JLPT when we met up. I think we made sushi once a couple of years ago but the rest of our meetups have all been study dates.

I’ve been going to the dentist to check my wisdom teeth and get my teeth cleaned. I also had X-rays taken because my dentist recommended getting the wisdom teeth yanked out from my left side due to an infection in the gums. I’m currently treating the infection though in the hopes that I won’t have to get them removed because the teeth themselves are healthy and fit in my mouth just fine. We’ll see what happens with them.

My family’s been going skiing a couple of times. It’s been below -15 degrees Celsius lately though so not a very good skiing weather. I’ve been doing a consistant 5 km run and have been getting better at going up and downhill. I’m so proud of myself for challenging myself and doing stuff that scares me. It’s so rewarding to notice any progress I make. Me and mum are taking a bus to go see dad on our winter break. If the weather isn’t awful we’ll go skiing and visit a spa and go to Ikea and such family fun.

My stompy bunny boi is gone now. His owner (my boyfriend’s sister) came to visit me last weekend and spent two nights with us from Saturday to Monday. We had an amazing time talking and catching up with everything, I love her so much. ♥ Work on Sunday was crazy because our dance classroom was accidentally double booked as a dressing room for figure skaters. I taught my first class on the edge of an indoors track and field hall but luckily it all worked out fine and we got an extra class booked for May because of this. The figure skaters also promised to organize a skating lesson for my dance group as a sign of good will, which I think is really sweet of them. Anyway Sunday night was amazing. We had a pineapple, some popcorn and chocolates. We were hanging out on the couch watching JamesTurnerYT streaming The Sims 4, I was trying out The Sims 4 on my guy’s sister’s laptop and she was chilling next to me. It was so much fun and I finally got to play TS4. ♥ I’m definitely planning on buying it next summer if I have any disposable income. On Monday morning we carried the bunny and his stuff down to her car with a lot of effort and struggles. I had a meeting to attend at 12, went to the office, went to ballet from there and to a meeting at 7pm. Coming home around 9pm to an empty house was weird and sad and lonely. Not having another living being in the house is kind of really sad even though the bunny wasn’t much company to begin with. For a couple of days I kept getting paranoid about the bunny since it was so quiet in the house and usually quiet meant he was doing something illegal. I kept glancing over constantly, and going to bed without my nightly floor sweeping and carrot distributing routine felt super weird like I had forgotten something. Anyway I’m glad the bunny has a good home and has space to get out of his cage. I got some super cute photos of him before he left and his owner keeps me updated on him. I’m glad to have my living space back. I still need to wash the floors and air out the rugs before putting everything back to place. Next week is my scheduled end-of-the-month cleanup.

Grandmum visited us and I spent Tuesday evening and Wednesday with mum and granny. On Tuesday I became a representative in the board of our new apartment’s building. There were zero volunteers and we practically forced a couple residents in the board with me. I don’t even live there so it’s important to have a couple actual residents in the board as well... So now I’m in the boards of two apartment buildings and the place that I teach dance in. It’s a good thing I don’t have any schoolwork anymore.

My friend is coming over soon to celebrate her birthday. We’re going to be baking and playing ACNL together. I’ve been working on job applications and a couple of guys came over to check my apartment’s temperature. It’s almost +24 in here, the warmest apartment of the entire building, and I’m still freezing with a cup of tea and woolly pants/sweater. It’s -20 degrees outside.

Next week is winter break so no ballet or dance teaching for me. I’ve still got some work to do, my house to clean, dance classes to plan for the rest of the spring and a mole on my back that I’m having checked on Wednesday. On Friday me and mum are going to dad’s place. Then I’ve got two more weeks until I go to see my boyfriend in Japan. We have been continuing our travel plans. I can’t believe I’m going over there so soon.

Now that I don’t have massive amounts of writing to do and time to spend sitting in front of my computer daily I’m going to try to blog a bit more often. We’ll see how it goes though. It does make me feel a lot better to have stuff off my mind and saved in here so I don’t forget all the things that happen so yeah. I’ll try.

January went by soooo slow and February has lasted for like two days? I can’t believe it’s almost March. I can’t wait for summer ♥ ☼