#It really is just yoga pants and jeans/slacks in the city though
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Note
''I'm not like other americans I wear skirts tee-hee'' everyone wears skirts lol you're not special
I'm special, everyone says so. 🩷
#It really is just yoga pants and jeans/slacks in the city though#More and more girls are starting to wear skirts lately though which is really cute#And honestly I got mildly picked up for only wearing skirts when I was in middle/high school which is silly but it's kind of rare here#Mostly I just hate how pants feel tbh#And I don't like the looks lol I tried to wear yoga pants to work once and an old man took a picture of my butt while I was grabbing a drin#The camera shutter went off and everything I wanted to throw up and cry and never wore them again#Long skirts hide your form more so I only wear tiny ones or pants when I'm out with my fiancé and men can't be creepy
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
Ladies, gentlemen, theys, thems and those too interesting for labels:
I have acquired a job.
Cleaning an office for a few hours in the evenings. Scored a M-F gig, too!
I'd like to thank modern chemistry for this achievement - shoutout to Buspirone for proving themself to be a True G - and also the community of assorted goblins, cinnamon rolls, and feral raccoons that is Tumblr. Couldn't have done it without yall and yalls blorbos, thanks so much.
Further rambling about the new gig under the jump.
I'm optimistic but trying to be tentative about it since I've been burnt so many times, but this is a chain of franchises instead of a small business so there's less of a chance that I'll be treated with outright toxicity. And I mean, the office manager seemed stoked about my enthusiasm. I really wanted the gig I applied for, I wonder how many other applicants are as genuinely enthusiastic as I am for an opportunity to do a couple hours of scrupulous work in the space and privacy of a quiet office after hours. And she seemed to be genuinely understanding when I answered the bog-standard "why do you want this job" question with a quick anecdote about my nineteen years in the service industry and wanting something less stressful where I'm "not performing as much."
I also made absolutely certain to drop the words "I'm neurodivergent" into a sentence early in my phone interview. I mean, that is the reason I find it really satisfying to do a thorough cleaning job! Hopefully nobody will be taken too much by surprise.
So far my only "oof"s are one mention of "honoring god" - big g "god" - in the onboarding paperwork. Unsurprising, my otherwise beautiful city has two name-brand megachurch homebases and three military installations, I probably wasn't going to avoid this one but I grew up here so I can play ball with the WASPs just as long as nobody asks any probing questions.
And, there is a note in the dress code about "jeans, shorts, or slacks only. Spandex is unacceptable." Which makes sense, they're aiming for professionalism to go along with the corporate office buildings they clean. And anyway I did eight years at Starbucks back in the days when the dress code was black or khaki pants absolutely no jeans (this was the early 00s, yoga pants had not been invented and leggings were still considered hosiery) with black or white collared shirt, and black or white socks no exceptions and yes some store managers absolutely will check your socks. I have photos of some outfits I wore to that job that are truly, honestly, horrifyingly hideous and completely inexcusable, like so ugly that even accounting for the sensory problems they are still wholly unforgivable. So this dress code does not scare me, though my IBS doesn't tolerate waistbands anymore so I'll have to ask some questions. But they also said scrubs are acceptable so perhaps I'll just get some jogger scrubs. I'm sure I can get more specifics as we go along.
I'll be disappointed if I have to get a haircut. I think the term for my haircut is no longer considered an acceptable term, as it also refers to an American Indigenous tribe, so I don't know what we call it anymore tbh. But it's buzz cut on both sides and long down the middle. (I don't spike it up with Elmer's Glue or anything, I'm too lazy and don't go anywhere, but I theoretically could if that helps deliver the correct image.) So not the most "professional" haircut known to modern culture, but I usually have it pulled back and it's not as clockable as an antisocial type of style that way. More things to discuss over paperwork.
Anyway, I've been complaining a lot about my job search. And I thought it was important to post an update that I scored one. It's evening work and it is physical labor, but it's only a few hours and it sounds like much lighter labor than I've done at all my other jobs.
#anyone wanna talk vintage starbucks partner#my partner number was a 115#starbucks#starbucks barista#vintage starbucks#2000s starbucks#dress codes#seriously the dress code was bad and i wanna talk about it#i got a job#better living through buspirone#buspar my beloved#buspar#it works#i can do scary things now with only a little bit of anxiety instead of being entire self-immolation bonfire disaster#it took three days to start working and does what it says on the tin#turned the volume on my anxiety dial from 11 down to 3#just neurodivergent things#actually audhd#actually autistic#actually neurodivergent#working while autistic#working while audhd#working while disabled
0 notes
Text
Higher than the Big Trees Ch. 20
read on ao3
Alec slips the cufflinks through his jacket, giving his sleeves a brief tug. Looking in the mirror, he likes what he sees.
It’s not an unusual sight-- fuck knows that Alec has an entire section dedicated to formal wear. Everything from tuxedos and more adventurous suits to slacks, blazers, and a dozen classic suits in black and similarly neutral colors.
His look today wouldn’t be amiss on Wall Street. His modern fit suit is hand tailored to perfection. His silk button down is in a snowy white, offering a beautiful contrast between the pitch black of the jacket and pants. His Tom Ford belt gleams subtly and his oxfords shine.
As Alec goes back into his walk in closet, he flips his collar up. He has a business meeting with one of his sponsors today, hence the extra effort, and truth be told he doesn’t really mind. There’s something to be said for his sweaters and jeans but Alec enjoys dressing up on occasion.
How fortunate for him that he picked a career where there’s always a gala or awards show or party.
His tie rack is teeming with bow ties and ties in a hundred different colors and patterns. Alec forgoes the more adventurous options-- there’s a light blue one with penguins on it that he usually wears at least once during the winter-- choosing instead a dark maroon tie.
He starts tying a Half Windsor Knot on autopilot as he moves out of his closet and back into his bedroom. His meeting is slated to start at nine and it’s half seven now.
With one last look in the mirror and a half-assed effort to tame his already messy hair, he grabs his phone, wallet, and keys and heads out into the penthouse. He takes the leather portfolio that has some reports and information his lawyer had put together with him.
He has the place to himself-- Jace is at work and Izzy wanted to spend the morning at Uptown Java, something about wanting to read one of her medical books.
As he walks to the elevator, he checks his phone. He sees a text message from Magnus and unconsciously starts to smile. It’s Wednesday morning and this will be the third day that Magnus is out of the country. While Alec had thought that things might fizzle out a little this week as the physical distance between them grew, he was pleasantly surprised to see that they talk just as much, if not more, than when they’re both in the same city.
While there are long periods between texts, they’ve kept up the same thread since yesterday afternoon. It’s something about the merits and pitfalls of public transportation and Alec chuckles in the elevator as he reads Magnus’s tale about accidentally shutting his jacket in a taxi door as he was being dropped off from a night out-- and not realizing until the driver started leaving.
Dave isn’t due to arrive for another half an hour and with that in mind, Alec walks a few blocks over to the closest Starbucks. The line is almost to the door and he messes around on his phone while he waits, unobtrusive.
It never fails to surprise him. Alec’s been in secluded boutiques and been mobbed but New York barely bats an eye most of the time. Oh, he still meets fans regularly wherever he goes, but he can also do normal things. He can stand in line at Starbucks and not worry that he’ll cause a scene.
As he thinks about how lucky he is to live in the city, he guiltily thinks about the internet snafu with Magnus a couple of days ago.
He didn’t have an excuse. While it was early as shit-- not even six in the morning yet-- Alec had been awake, training with Jace. They’d just finished their five mile race, Alec winning, when he’d walked over to his bag. Taking a few gulps of water, he’d heard his phone start vibrating. It’d been far too early for anyone to be calling him and as he’d seen Magnus’s name come up on the screen, he’d been curious. He knew that Magnus was flying out today but he hadn’t thought it was so early.
Jace had sent him a quizzical look as he’d picked up the phone, swiping to accept the call. Alec had mouthed Magnus and Jace had raised his brows, smirking.
Rolling his eyes, he’d turned away and talked to Magnus as he waited to board his flight. They'd talked for almost forty minutes and it had been chill. There’d been a few silent stretches where neither one had anything to say and hadn’t thought of a new topic yet and it hadn’t felt awkward.
Really, it made Alec content. They were both just happy to relax on the line with each other. Halfway through the phone call, though, Alec had been a little stunned to realize that he wasn’t following Magnus on anything. Especially since Magnus followed him, apparently.
He’d thrown the phone on speaker and Jace had been all ears at being the first to know what Alec’s new friend sounded like. Thankfully, Magnus had realized he was on speaker pretty quick and there hadn’t been any potential blackmail on the phone call for Jace to commit to memory.
Alec had went to Twitter first, following and liking a few tweets. His profile picture looked like it was taken in an office, dark wood walls serving as the background. He had a few thousand followers and Alec liked the mix of trivia, mundane observations, and photos.
Instagram was the same, though Alec couldn’t resist commenting on a few posts. When Magnus had told him that he regularly practiced yoga and was actually a certified instructor, Alec had almost swallowed his tongue. It was one thing just to be told that, however, and quite something else to see Magnus doing a One Handed Tree Pose (he looked it up) in nothing but form fitting black boxer briefs.
It was obvious that Magnus kept in shape but seeing him post a few workout videos not only got Alec a little hot under the collar, but genuinely made him interested in working out together. While he liked to work out alone, he also enjoyed having a partner. Alec thinks that there could be a little friendly competition going on between them and it’d be fun to see just how evenly matched they were.
Alec orders and pays with little fanfare, still marveling at how stupid he’d been. Or, not even stupid-- he’d just been oblivious for the first time in years.
Alec knows that his life is under a microscope, that the daily minutiae that is deeply uninteresting about everyone else is fascinating when it’s about him. He should’ve foreseen that his fans-- smart as hell and twice as tenacious-- would immediately noticed that he followed someone on not only one, but two platforms.
Alec might dedicate a lot of time to his fans but he’s also intensely private when it counts. He follows less than a thousand people and rarely adds to the number. His fans hadn’t wasted a minute.
After hanging up with Magnus, Alec had gone right back to working out with Jace who had mock scowled at him for taking so long. He’d just shrugged, a little helpless, and Jace had just shaken his head, clapping him on the back as they took their positions to spar a little.
When Jace had finally finished with him, he’d flopped down next to the mats and asked Jace to toss his phone over to him. Jace had gone over to their shit and in true brother fashion had unlocked his phone, scrolling through his notifications. He always acted like a kid, as if Alec wasn’t perfectly aware of what he signed up for when he asked Jace the favor but he just laid on the floor, catching his breath while Jace invaded his privacy.
After a minute or two Jace had handed the phone over, merely saying, “I never get used to how many notifications you have.”
Alec wasn’t in the mood to deal with it, so he’d just opened his messages, confirming lunch plans with Izzy and getting caught up on a few emails and calls.
He’d finally checked his phone in the early afternoon after lunch and had been surprised at the number of engagements. Even for him, it was high. When he’d tapped into the apps and seen the root of the damage, though, he’d wanted to kick himself.
He should’ve known.
He’d texted Magnus as soon as he put the pieces together, hoping that his few moments messing around on social media wouldn’t be the end of things between them. Alec’s very cognizant of the fact that his life isn’t for anyone and he’d promised Magnus discretion two weeks ago. This was the very definition of indiscreet.
He’d sweated it out, knowing that Magnus was still flying. He’d spent a couple of hours preoccupied, distracting himself with fine tuning the song he and Catarina had worked on. Thankfully, Magnus had understood and he’d ended up abandoning his song for almost an hour as he texted Magnus in a flurry.
Alec had taken the rest of the afternoon afterwards, messing around on his piano until the sun started fading and he was playing more by feel than sight. He’d finished the day cooking dinner for the three of them and Clary, retiring back to his bedroom by eight and falling asleep reading.
Alec’s pleased to realize that his writer’s block is officially over. All of those months of trying to string two sentences together, not finding the right chords or note runs and it seems to be a thing of the past. He’s not churning them out but he’s making steady progress. In addition to the collab with Cat and his song tentatively titled Angel, he has two or three others that are brewing in the back of his mind.
He’d really just been fucking around on his piano, a Steinway & Sons K-132. It had been one of his first large purchases and it’d been ages since he’d had time to play for fun, trying out chords and arrangements or playing some of his favorite pieces for pure, simple enjoyment.
The past few days had been quiet, especially without Magnus to potentially see. He’s spent that time writing half a dozen songs. While he wasn’t concentrating too much on the content-- really he was just writing whatever came to mind-- the tone was undeniable.
His last album had racked up the awards for being gritty, dark. He’d written about the price of fame, about one night stands and one city lovers and jaded ennui. There’d been one or two softer songs-- one he’d collaborated with another artist for, another that he’d written with Jace and Clary in mind-- but overall, An Arrow in the Dark had been cynical and cutting with an overlay of sensuality that the public had loved.
So far, this album looked to be forming as the total opposite. The songs were softer, sweeter, and Alec couldn’t help but notice that he was drawing on these burgeoning feelings inside him for source material. He thought of how easy things were with Magnus, how much he was enjoying making a new friend and learning about an incredibly interesting man. Then there were those fucking butterflies that wouldn’t leave him alone when they touched accidentally or he learned something else entirely endearing about Magnus.
He’d say Magnus was his muse but their arrangement was too platonic for that. You couldn’t write an entire album about a friend, after all. He refuses to look too closely at the fact that the only real thing that's changed to break his block is meeting Magnus. He doesn't think he could handle it-- not with everything else the man brings out in him.
As Alec walks back to the front of his building, he sees Dave pull up right on time. Dave gets out and heads to the rear door of the Lincoln town car, nodding as Alec approaches.
“Right on time, Alec. That’s what I like to see.”
Mock affronted, Alec holds out one of his coffee cups as he asks, “When am I ever not on time?”
Dave doesn’t respond, just hums as he accepts the drink and takes an appreciative sniff.
“Vanilla latte, my favorite.”
“You’ve been my driver for almost eight years. I would hope I’d have your order memorized by now,” he says, grinning.
Alec climbs into the back seat and spends a few minutes relaxing. The upcoming meeting wasn’t anything intense but his lawyer, Underhill, wanted to pin some numbers down and Alec wanted to brush up on the details before they walked into the boardroom.
He opens the portfolio, taking out a few handouts and skimming them as a refresher. He’d gone over everything when it was first sent but it never hurts to review things one more time.
Alec had a healthy relationship with sponsors. There were those for his tours but also a handful of companies that wanted his name and his face on their products. This morning’s meeting was to discuss a renewal of his Nike contract and Alec was looking forward to it. While the company might be sweating a little, Alec and Underhill had already talked things through and knew that they’d be walking out of the room partners for another two years regardless of Nike's offer today.
Traffic is brutal as ever in the early morning rush hour and Alec almost spills his coffee twelve times, taking ill-timed sips just when traffic slows to a stop. Still, Dave knows what he’s doing and they make it to the corporate offices with ten minutes to spare.
He gets out, without assistance, and waves Dave off with a mutual confirmation to return at two.
As he walks towards the glass and steel doors, he sees a familiar figure walking towards him.
“Hey, Alec,” Underhill says as he nears. His five thousand dollar suit looks impeccable and he look ready to do business.
“Morning, man. How’s Adrian,” Alec asks as the two move in for a handshake.
Underhill turns towards the doors, smiling and opening the one closest to him, gesturing for Alec to go through first as he answers.
“Adrian’s great. We have a vacation planned for next month in Aspen. He’s already got a dozen trails mapped out for us to try.”
“Yeah? Are you still going through with it?”
The two of them share a knowing look as the secretary calls for her boss.
Looking both giddy and unnerved, Underhill smiles. “Of course. I’ve had the ring for six damn months. I think it’s time that I actually used it.”
Alec claps him on the back just as one of Nike’s lawyers meets them in the reception area. There are a round of handshakes before they’re being guided to one of the conference rooms.
The room is utilitarian. Four walls of glass show a large conference table where six people are already sitting.
Underhill has shed his easy going demeanor. Instead, he looks serious, ready to do business and get Alec the best deal possible.
There are no pleasantries and as the three of them take their seats, Alec opens his notes up, face impassive.
He may not have gone to college, but he’s no slouch. He knows that Underhill has his best interests at heart-- has for four years now-- but you don’t get to be in Alec’s position without being screwed over a time or two, in both his personal and professional life. Alec spends not an inconsiderable time reading up on a variety of topics on a routine basis. Among those are music, business, and law. He may not be ready for his LSATS but he’s read through every piece of business that crosses him. The terms they’ve offered are a fair counterpoint to what Nike had initially given them and the next few hours promise to be lively if nothing else.
Underhill remains cool under pressure, no less intimidating for being one against six. While Underhill had his own firm with a range of junior partners, interns, and paralegals, he was always Alec's representative.
The room breaks after a few hours, reaching a bit of a stalemate. The opposing team offers it as an excuse for a quick bite to eat but when Alec’s and Underhill’s eyes meet, they know the truth.
They're going to the other partners to see if they can accept the new deal.
The two of them go to a close cafe where they each get a smoothie, drinking them as they walk around a park across the street. They return to the room when the thirty minutes are up.
Everyone sits down and it’s quiet for a minute before the partner in charge of this deal stands, buttoning his suit jacket, before reaching a hand out first to Alec and then Underhill.
“I’m pleased to say that the other partners agreed that the proffered terms are acceptable. We’ve reached an agreement and are pleased to announce that you’ll be partnered with our company for the next two years, continuing our contract without issue."
As he hears the words, Alec stands and there’s a few minutes as he and Underhill shake everyone’s hands. Alec is given a Montblanc pen and scrawls his signature a dozen times on a contract as thick as a book.
Just a few minutes later, they’re leaving. They wait until they reach the sidewalk before looking at each other and laughing, half relief and half pure amusement.
“Our terms were hard and I have to say that I’m a little surprised that Nike accepted them. You’re getting eighteen percent more up front with a two percent rise in your kickbacks. They must really like you.”
Alec shrugs, playing coy. Though really, he’s surprised at their luck, too.
“You know how much buzz they got for signing an openly gay man to represent their company. Those commercials went viral as soon as they were released. I am proud of you, though! They definitely thought we were going to back down first.”
Underhill shakes his head. “If only they knew that we would have accepted what they offered last week.”
Laughing, Alec says, “Another win for us.”
He takes a step back and looks at his watch, sees Underhill do the same.
Underhill waves his briefcase a little, saying, “I’ve got to head back to the office and file these. Plus, I think I’m going to try to meet Adrian for a late lunch. I’ll talk to you later but you should be good for the next few weeks on everything from my end.”
Alec nods, taking out his phone. “Sounds great man. Thanks for today-- you crushed it.”
The two of them smile at each other before heading off in opposite directions. Looking down at his phone, Alec sees that they let out about forty minutes early and he calls Dave to let him know that he’s not needed.
Alec takes the opportunity to do a little shopping. He’s not the most avid shopper but once in a while when he has some free time, he likes to kill some by poking into stores. He usually just ends up buying stuff for everyone else but it’s a nice way to spend an afternoon every six months.
He ends up buying a necklace for Izzy and phone case for Jace who insists on never using one despite the fact that he’s had to replace his iphone at least twice this year alone.
It’s calming, really. Alec spends most of his time with people, though he gets his fair share of time solo. There’s just something about walking around a city alone-- even his hometown-- that makes him feel like just Alec, anonymous. A free agent.
He’s walking down the street, heading towards the subway station, when he sees a cameraman headed his way. Sighing internally, he resolutely keeps walking.
“Hey man, it’s TMZ. How are you doing today?"
Alec smiles but it’s his public smile. Which isn’t to say that he doesn’t genuinely enjoy some interviews and promo. But sometimes there are certain reporters, or companies, that he’s not a fan of and so he has to use his public persona a bit more.
“I’m good, man. What about you,” he responds easily.
“Can’t complain. What do you have there?” He aims his camera at the few bags in Alec’s hand. There’s one from a jeweler’s, another from a small boutique, and a last bag from an independent bookstore around the corner.
Shrugging, Alec says, “Nothing much, just doing a little shopping.”
“Who are you shopping for, Lightwood? Do you have a special someone that you’re buying gifts for?”
Alec looks at him drolly. “My sister.”
TMZ guy nods along, still looking like he’s going to get the scoop. “We heard you followed someone on Instagram this week. What about him?”
Inside, Alec seethes but he keeps the bland expression pasted on his face as he continues walking. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I think his name is Magnus? He’s a professor?”
Hoping the camera doesn’t pick up on his clenching jaw, Alec returns, “He’s a friend I met a few weeks ago.”
“Oh? Is that all there is or should we be worried that the music scene’s most eligible bachelor is finally taken?”
Alec smiles, though it feels more like a grimace. “No, I’m still single and unattached. There’s nothing going on there except friendship.” No matter how much I might want that to change.
The reporter looks at him like he’s digging for more information before turning to another topic. “What about your music? With your tour wrapping up, do you already have plans for your next album?”
Here, Alec can relax. The tension eases out of him at the familiar question. This, he knows. He grins a little but still remains facing forward as he approaches a crosswalk.
“I’m just in the studio seeing what we have. Every album has a different vibe and I’m having fun coming up with the concept for number seven.”
“Can you tease anything?”
Alec thinks for a minute. The words are on the tip of his tongue but he bites them back as he thinks about possible repercussions. In the end though, he decides to go for it. Even if he ends up completely scrapping what he has so far, this is where he’s at right now. Plus, it’s never too early to start building buzz.
“I think this album will be the best I’ve ever written.”
“Yeah? Why is that?”
“I’m experiencing something new for the first time in ages and I can’t help but write about what I’m going through. I think this album will explore a source bank I’ve never tapped into before.”
“What’s new with you?”
Alec declines to answer as the reporter asks a few more leading questions. After a minute, the TMZ guy backs off, throwing out a goodbye.
Alec returns it and continues on his way home.
He makes it back to his apartment twenty minutes later. The sun is starting to dip in the sky and the penthouse is washed in golden light. He sees Izzy on her phone in the living room. She looks up as he enters.
“Hey, hermano.”
“Hey, Iz.”
He tosses one of the bags at her and she stills for a moment before sitting up and opening it. When she takes out the necklace, she studies it for a few minutes. It’s a double tiered piece. The top is a choker but the second layer falls down, several inches longer. It’s gold with different colored stones every few centimeters. It’s colorful and unique and perfectly his sister.
Izzy must agree because she’s grinning. As Alec nears her, she leans over and hugs his middle.
“Thanks, Alec. I love it and can’t wait to show it off. You didn’t have to, though, you know that right?”
Alec just looks at her. “That’s half the fun of shopping for me. You know that. I saw this in the storefront and felt like spending money. It works out for both of us.”
Alec sits on the other end of the couch and the two of them relax in the quiet for a little while, both on their phones. It’s a companionable silence and one that Alec misses when he’s on the road.
After a while, though, Izzy looks up, excited. “You know what we should do?”
Alec doesn’t answer, remaining engrossed on a game on his phone.
Izzy kicks him and he groans before asking, “What.”
“We should go out tonight!”
lec must not look enthused with the idea because she glares at him. “What? It’s been a month since you last went out-- when’s the last time that happened?”
Alec opens his mouth to argue but abruptly closes it, realizing that she’s right. Alec might like to stay home with his book or piano but he also likes having a good time and usually goes out at least once a week. There are periods when he’s parties for days on end, passing out just to go out again a few hours later. Huh. This is different.
As he thinks, Alec just pictures Magnus. They’d only hung out a few times but any time spent with him was valuable and there was no contest between talking to Magnus or going out to the latest club.
A friend shouldn’t affect him like this. A friend shouldn’t change his patterns so thoroughly and so gently that Alec doesn’t even notice-- doesn’t even care.
Decision made, Alec looks over at Izzy and nods. “Alright, then. We’ll go out. Is everyone going?”
Rolling her eyes, Izzy stands up. “What do you think I was doing on my phone? Clary has an art class that runs late tonight but Jace can go.” She smiles as she starts walking toward her bedroom. “It’ll just be the three of us, like old times. Now I have to go get ready. We’ll head out at ten?”
She doesn’t wait for confirmation, just goes to her room, shutting the door with a resounding click.
Alec finishes the text he was writing to Magnus, relaxing against the couch as he presses send.
It had been ages since just the three of them went out. There was always a date or Clary or friends or it was for a special occasion. While Alec hadn’t planned on going out tonight, the idea doesn’t sound hideous. He’ll go, have a few drinks, dance with a few people.
Maybe this is what he needs. He needs to shake Magnus. Maybe if he meets someone else, he won’t be so hung up on Magnus’s eyes and his intelligence and his everything. He needs a distraction.
Maybe if he gets laid Magnus won’t get under his skin so damn much.
Alec stands up, stretching his back.
If Magnus is just his friend then by God Alec will get this thing out of his system one way or another. Something's gotta give and Alec is a master at distraction when he needs to be.
That thought in mind, he heads to his room.
He needs to get ready.
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
Day 3: The End is Now
Day 3, Post Apocalyptic or Dystopia: Did the world end with a whimper? Is it a dying human race on a flourishing planet? A nuclear winter? A dystopic regime? It doesn’t have to be bleak! The End is Now
Someone was banging on my door. More than one someone.
“Hold on, y’all,” I cried out in the direction of the living room. I shook out a wrinkled pair of slacks from the floor and pulled them on, followed by an old t-shirt, “JESUS LOVES YOU” emblazoned on the front, “JESUS LOVES YOU” emblazoned on the back (just in case). The knocking grew more frantic.
“I’m coming!” I yelled, losing my patience.
I lost my patience a lot. It was something I was told I needed to work on, but I kept forgetting to work on it. Or, more truthfully, it was something I had no idea how to work on. God made me this way. I am not proud of my outbursts but it’s just a part of who I am. I opened the door aggressively to show that I was not pleased to be interrupted like this.
A crowd of seven or eight people stood on my front porch. Some looked like they had been crying. One man had a bloody nose, just letting it bleed freely onto his dress shirt. Several more people were walking up my gravel driveway toward the house, pointing at me. I smelled something burning.
“You’re the guy with the signs!” one woman said. She wore an oversized sweatshirt and yoga pants and her hands were shaking. “You’re the End of the World guy!”
“I am a preacher,” I said proudly. “And my church is the streets of this sinful city, and my parishioners are anyone with the bravery to hear His word and be saved.”
I did have a church once (a real one, not some dingy street corner) but I lost my patience one day, and then I didn’t have a church any more. I was a preacher at Sunshine Baptist Church for fifteen years, before they asked me to kindly resign. I had called a deacon’s wife a whore and told her she would rot and Hell. I stand by this, but perhaps saying so in my Sunday sermon with her family in attendance was crossing the line, at least that’s what I was told when I was relieved from my position as shepard of that particular flock.
So, I set off on my own.
The whole street corner thing was a temporary solution, you see, just until I could save enough money to start my own church, one that focused on what really mattered: being saved; making sure that when The End of Days comes, you’re on the right side of the battlefield, because it will be a battle. It won’t end with a whimper. I believe that.
“That’s the guy!” someone yelled. “He told me I was going to hell when Doomsday comes!”
“Me too!” yelled someone else.
Now, listen. Like I said, I lose my patience a lot, sure, but I also feel like it does everyone a disservice when you sugar-coat things. Sugar-coating makes things go down easy, sure, but then people don’t even know what they’re swallowing, and next time they get sick, they can’t even help themselves. I tell it like it is because when your pulpit is a street corner, you get one shot. These people aren’t coming back every Sunday. Our lives intersect at one precise moment, and that’s all we have. If I don’t tell you right then that you’re going to burn in hell, you might never hear it. You might never be saved. I take my this responsibility very seriously.
I was used to being yelled at, typically all day long, in small outbursts or with the occasional college student who felt it worth his time to really psychoanalyze me, usually concluding that I was a closet homosexual, while I concluded the same about him. It was a useless exercise. Usually when I got home at night, I would remember that I had promised myself I would be more patient, and I would feel disappointed in myself, but ultimately blame the aggressive, sinful world surrounding me for my outbursts. Someone had to bring tough love to these people. If no one tells you that you’re on a path straight to hell, how will you know to change direction?
The crowd at my doorstep was growing, and behind them the sky was turning an ominous shade of grey that looked ready to open up on them at any second. I heard what might have been a thunder clap or an explosion, and everyone ducked instinctively. It was around 9 AM but getting so dark it could have been the middle of the night.
“Listen, man.” One kid pushed his way to the front of the crowd. He looked college-aged, with thick glasses and skinny jeans. “I don’t like you, but I have to know: How did you know this was going to happen?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, feeling outnumbered and a little worried about the growing group of panicked faces in my yard. “Repent and be saved. I can’t forgive you your sins, only God can. Leave me alone, sinners!”
I tried to take an authoritarian tone, but the sky was so unsettlingly dark, and something was burning, or something was rotting and burning at the same time. It was hard to pin down the stench.
“We’re talking about that!” a woman said, pointing to the sign I would often carry with me when I preached. It was tall and narrow, containing on it a list of the many sins that would need to be repented if you wished to be with God when the End of Days came (e.g. sodomy, playing violent video games, drinking, swearing, etc.). I had hand-painted the entire thing, something I was very proud of.
“Yesterday you told me I was going to hell,” she said. She wore a business suit and carried a briefcase which had fallen open, her papers scattered all over my lawn. She didn’t seem to notice.
“You told me I would burn in hell for being a slut,” she continued, “which is so problematic for so many reasons but I’m not even going to get into it now because then you said something super ominous like ‘The end is nigh’ and I was like, ‘Oh yeah, when is nigh?’ and you pointed to THAT stupid sign.”
Everyone turned toward the sign, which was over eight feet tall and contained, in addition to the list of applicable sins for admittance to hell, a section along the bottom that read as follows:
REPENT FOR THE END IS NIGH
JUNE 03, 2018 YEAR OF OUR LORD
DOOMSDAY, JUDGEMENT DAY
SINNERS GO TO HELL
I glanced down at my Casio digital watch, though I already knew what it would say: 9:03 AM 06/03/2018.
Let me explain.
Any good salesman knows that nothing makes a sales pitch more convincing than a sense of urgency. I can yell all day and night about sin and being saved, but who’s really going to listen if they feel like they have all the time in the world to repent? So I picked up my bible one night, crunched some numbers, and settled on June 3rd, 2018. Was I sure the world was going to end on June 3rd, 2018? No. But I was sure that it wouldn’t hurt anybody if I were wrong. What’s the worst that could happen? I couple people turn their sinful lives around faster than they would have otherwise? It felt harmless to me. In the spirit of full disclosure, I had not considered what it would mean if I were right.
Now, here they all were: The gays, the fornicators, the gluttons, the thieves, all right on my doorstep. I suppose in many ways this situation was ideal: I preached, I was heard, I was proven right, and my flock came to me in their hour of need. I had grown so used to being ignored and spat on, I hadn’t stopped to consider what I would even do if someone actually agreed with me, wanted to follow me. The grey clouds above us had begun a slow spiral, like a twister could drop from it at any moment. In the distance, screams could be heard.
I must have looked confused because the man with the bloody nose spoke up.
“A crack opened in the streets,” he said, his voice shaking. “It’s swallowing people up. There are...there are...”
“Demons,” a woman finished for him. “Literal demons. They’re eating people, tearing them limb from limb.”
“How did you know it would come today?” someone cried up at me. “And how do we get saved? Please, help us!”
A chorus of others echoed the plea.
“Hang on a second,” I said. I retreated inside and closed the door behind me, twisting the deadbolt.
I inhaled slowly through my nose, exhaled slowly from my mouth. I learned this technique from a woman at Sunshine Baptist who worked with children who suffered from anxiety. She told me it might help me with losing my patience. Only this time, I wasn’t losing my patience. My heart raced, but with joy, with excitement. My flock was here, they needed me, at last. I pulled my bible from the side table beside my couch and took another deep breath before turning around and undoing the deadbolt.
“Showtime,” I whispered to myself, a smile creeping across my face. I pulled open the door and faced my new parishioners, their faces screwed up with fear. This was my moment. I cleared my throat.
“Repent, sinners!” I boomed. “For The End is...um, Now!”
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Men's RTW Clothing Packing Checklist - After 1 Year, 20 Countries
HUGE DISCLAIMER: None of this stuff is necessary for travel. It is after all, just stuff. You can always pick up what you need along the way. Hell, we spontaneously added a 2 month Vietnam motorbike adventure to our itinerary and Allison picked up all her protective wear the day before we left in HoChi Minh. We're completely assured that we avoided a few headaches and uncomfortable nights because we had the right clothes for any type of weather, but at the end of the day, I think it's more important to put your money toward extending your trip rather than having some specialized expensive clothing. The Vietnamese men's riding pants, apart from being 3" inches too short, fit Allison just fine.
As a guy, it’s a little bit weird for me to talk about my clothes. Bros just don’t do that. I’m breaking the rule here though, because I can use the excuse that for a long term trip, clothes become more akin to being equipment or gear.
And we know gear is a perfectly reasonable thing to discuss among dudes. If you were looking to nerd-out, check out the full tech packing list here. You won't find gadgets below.
Gear
Osprey Porter 46L Backpack
You’ve seen this bag all over our website. Why? Simply because it’s one of those few items in life where you feel like the high-ish price tag is well justified. I can’t explain how much we beat the ever-loving piss out of our Osprey Porters. The two months alone spent on the rebar luggage rack during our Vietnam motorcycle ride would have shredded a lesser bag.Here we are, closing in on two years later, and they look brand new. Oh yeah, and you can use this bag as carry on luggage.
Eagle Creek Compression Packing Cubes
I laughed when Allison first suggested buying these. I wasn’t going to spend $30 for cute little bags for my socks. Truth be told, packing cubes are the shit. The big one held underwear and board shorts, and the small one held socks and bandanas. The packing cubes compress your clothes so they take up less space and make sure that when you pull a t-shirt out of your overstuffed bag, that a bunch of other crap doesn’t come spilling out.
Sea To Summit Small Toiletry Bag
Yes. Along with getting the same cubes and backpack as Allison, I also got the same dop kit. I know, it’s adorable. We had different colors at least. Dop kits really dropped in usefulness in a post 9/11 world as security is always making you separate liquids and gels into a clear ziploc bag. When we were overseas, I found the rules to be a little less stringent and suddenly security didn’t need to see your toothpaste and deodorant anymore. My dop kit stayed pretty full the entire trip with your expected toiletries such as toothbrush, floss, etc as well as a mini med center filled with miscellaneous prescriptions we picked up as we gallivanted across the globe. As a side-note, you can get some AMAZING hangover medicine in Vietnam that contains codeine.
below the waist
Yes, pants has its own section. Now I’m completely committed to writing about clothes….I only brought gray pants. Gray hides dirt well and it means you can wear any pattern or color of shirt/sweatshirt/tank up top. While I’m proudly American, I knew better than to pack a pair of bluejeans. Aside from making you stick out from the crowd, bringing jeans on a long trip is a heavy endeavor. Instead of jeans, I brought a pair of wool travel slacks and a pair of synthetic athletic pants. No- not sweatpants. More like Yoga Man Pants (if that's a thing)
Bluffworks Classic Grey Mens Travel Pants-
These are travel pants that don’t look stupid or fit like they’re from Costco. There are no zip off leg sleeves or huge zippers- just subtle hidden pockets and a great modern fit. I wore these a lot in Europe when I wanted to look a bit more presentable for dinner or the random museum. That’s not to say that they also didn’t serve plenty of time as my rough and tough exploration pants. They are made out of a breathable wool and I wore them for the majority of our Vietnam motorcycle ride as well. They’ve been hiked in, soaked in mud countless times, and they are still in great enough shape to wear to dinner still.
One last bonus worth mentioning- They dry really quick and are wrinkle resistant. I didn’t iron them once the entire trip and they still managed to be presentable every time I took them out of my pack.
Lulu Lemon ABC Pant-
Now I’m really in dangerous territory, but yes, I have to heavily endorse a Lulu product (not sponsored, but ... available!) as a man. I’ve never been the type of guy to wear sweatpants, but for long plane rides, car rides, and just as a comfortable replacement for jeans, these pants fit the bill. The ABC pant is really stretchy but also made of a tough, durable fabric. The cut is athletic without being too tight. Finally, these pants too put up with being worn nearly every other day for a year and still looking brand new.
Billabong Crossfire X Submersible Shorts-
Stetchy, comfy, ultra light, and super quick drying. Also purchased in plain grey so they can be worn with anything. These were a godsend in South East Asia because they breathed so well and could dry out in just a short while out in the sun. I originally brought another pair of khaki shorts with me but ditched them after realizing I was literally only wearing this specific pair of shorts. When it came time to wash them, I knew that they could dry 4x over by the next morning.
Board shorts-
I wasn’t marching around in European cities in my trunks, but by the time we hit South East Asia I really lived in my board shorts and the Billabong submersible shorts I mentioned earlier.
Under Armor Mesh Boxer Briefs-
If you cared at all, now you have the answer. No wool boxer briefs for me. I’m completely sold on Under Armor mesh. Breathable and extremely fast drying after laundry day. I could even swim in boxer briefs and my billabong shorts and dry out completely in a reasonable amount of time.
Up-top
Vest-
$20 cheapo vest with hood, again from KMart, was a welcome addition to my outerwear while in New Zealand. Not something I would have wanted to have in my bag for the entire trip.
Tshirts-
Bring 3. I mean, THREE tshirts. They’ll be plenty of places to pick up cool new shirts while you’re abroad and you'll probably be wanting one anyways.
Rain Jacket-
Why did I not bring this on the trip? I was so concerned about having a bulky rain jacket that I brought a water resistant windbreaker. This ended up not being a huge deal in places like South East Asia, but a terrible problem in wet cold environments like New Zealand. I spent the six weeks in New Zealand in a cheapo rainjacket from KMart while my trusty North Face rainjacket sat at home hanging nice and dry in my closet.
Asia Rain Poncho
Why was not having the rain jacket in South East Asia not a huge issue? Just because we threw down about $3 USD and picked up some sick scooter ponchos. They were perfectly sized and designed to be worn while driving a scooter, and even had a little clear panel for your headlight to shine through. Absolutely essential if you're doing a motorbike trip.
A Bunch of Wool
How sick are you of reading about merino wool on travel blogs? It doesn’t stop here….
I first heard about Icebreaker when I was living with a couple Kiwis while working at a ski resort. They went on and on about how warm it was and the high quality of Icebreaker in particular. I broke down and bought my first long sleeved base layer that winter and have never looked back. Not to be redundant to everything that merino wool markets itself as, but its warm, its comfortable, it doesn’t stink, it dries quick, and it’s light. In particular I left with the following:
Icebreaker Tech Light T Shirt-
Great, athletic fitting t shirt that I wore constantly. It disappeared when I dropped it off at a laundry somewhere in Thailand.
Mens Everday Long Sleeve Crew-
Amazing base layer that you can wear countless days in a row. Think I wore it 6 weeks straight in New Zealand and would have been freezing otherwise. Black, while boring, can then be worn under a tshirt or hidden more easily under other top layers.
Icebreaker Quantum Long Sleeve Zip Hoodie-
The one hoodie I took on the trip! So warm and with roll out sleeves for your hands and thumb to go through. Though expensive, I’m glad I made the investment. I knew this would be my outer layer most of the time so I made sure it was an annoying orange color to stand out in landscape pictures. And stand out, I did.
Icebreaker socks-
Brought two pairs of merino wool socks with. Just like everyone else says-they don’t get smelly too easily, they breath, and they dry fast. I also brought a pair of thick wool socks that are for snowboarding- exceptionally warm and made by Burton.
Footwear-
Hi-Tec: V-Lite Walk-Lite Witton in Dark Chocolate-
Never heard of this company before I started looking for shoes to last me a year and be versatile enough to wear to dinner or go hike New Zealand in. I was amazed at how many brightly colored, gaudy as hell hiking shoes exist. If you want plain brown leather waterproof shoes, your choices are very limited. Fortunately, I found these shoes on Zappo and couldn't have been happier. They lasted the entire trip, were extremely light to pack when I didn’t need to wear them, and I’m still wearing them as knock-around shoes almost two years later.
Sandals-
I own a nice pair of leather sandals, but planned on picking up a pair of cheap flip flops while abroad. Turns out it was a great plan. You’ll want something the dries fast and can be used for hostel showers and beaches alike.
Accessories:
Buff-
You can find generic buffs on Amazon and ebay for less than two bucks. Our use for these was nothing earth shattering. We used them as dust masks for our motorbike trip, headbands, hats, and sometimes as just a cloth to wrap a camera in. Huge fan of buffs.
Bandana-
I grew my hair out like a hippie. Eventually, getting ready in the morning just consisted of brushing my teeth and tying my hair out of my face with a bandana. No haircuts was one of my favorite secret features of traveling for so long.
Revo Sunglasses-
Sorry ZZ Top- I despise cheap sunglasses so I brought my Revo Stern Xs along. They took a proper beating from deserts, boats, beaches and miles and miles of motorbiking. They eventually got too scratched up and I had to give them a hero’s burial in the Philippines.
Hat-
Just a $2 stocking hat from KMart in the New Zealand rounded out my cold weather collection for comfortable hiking.
Don’t Forget
This is probably not the first packing post you've read. Most likely they've all mentioned this too: pack half of what you think and leave room to pick up a few things while you’re abroad. Listen to everyone's advice. You’re going to run across a shirt you love or an awesome hand-made scarf that you’ll want to take home with you. I wasn't one for sentimental items or souvenirs but inevitably the weather will be different than you expected or you'll "be in the mood" to wear something different and for $20 you can grab what you want - you just don't want to have to throw something out just to add one thing in. No reason to leave home with your backpack overflowing.
0 notes