#This one is not this weekend but it's a very large march; schedule ahead of time | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mymedlife · 3 years ago

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Guys, the pandemic has broken me. Every time we seem to be making any progress I feel like we get set back again.

Sorry for the long rant ahead, but I feel like I need to get it out of my head.

Back in the beginning, last March or so, when the state I'm living in shut down, I felt like I could do it. Daycare shut down for almost 3 months to prevent spread.

My husband's job changed his hours to 10a to 8p since everyone was working remotely so they could all be working on the same time zone.

My cofellows were generous enough to switch shifts so I could work all nights and weekends and watch my kiddo during the day. Which kind of sucked, because she doesn't play independently for very long, o was tired, hubby wanted it quiet, and everything was closed so there wasn't anywhere to go to break up the monotony.

Work was filled with frequent changes around what protective equipment we have and what is required to be worn where. I got fitted for 3 different N95s because we kept running out, despite having to check them out and have them sterilized between uses.

I had frequent discussions about how COVID is real with families who refused testing. Parents lied about their symptoms to be allowed into the hospital with their kids, including one who collapsed mid visit due to respiratory failure. Several people ended up having to quarantine because they weren't wearing their N95s during the resuscitation as it was unexpected (at the time we were only wearing N95s during aerosolizing procedures including bagging). This lead to a new rule on not stopping in to help until you have the proper equipment on (which makes sense, but but is so hard).

Early on I spent some time volunteering for the COVID hotline for my state. Most of the questions I got were people upset that things were closing. There were very few health calls.

My aunt died. My sister, a psychologist, argued with her boss she should get a raise for being a frontline worker. My other sister, who is immunocompromised, was mad that all her friends continued to party guilt free and we kept telling her to stay home. My husband began to enjoy his new schedule to the point that he would stay up until 3am playing games after work (the kid was asleep and I was working) and sleep until he had to work at 10 am. My friends talked about their new lock down hobbies, including my co fellow who spent her time creating a new lecture series for the residents. I felt like I was trending water, I started getting behind on fellowship things and I was so tired. My kiddo was happy that I was spending more time with her, and it all was temporary, right?

Eventually things started opening up again. Daycare returned. Two days later my husband was fired. Thankfully he found a job within a few months, but during that time was quick to anger and his staying up all night playing games and sleeping most of the day got worse. He dismissed anything I had to say about it and frequently promised to sleep earlier, later saying he had to stay up because the kid had a nightmare that I slept through.

During this time, many of my pediatrician friends were called to see adults due to high patient volumes and doctor shortages. Luckily I only had to see kids, but there was still a lot of mystery surrounding symptoms and the discovery of the multi system inflammatory syndrome.

My kiddo got sent home a few times from daycare for vague symptoms that necessitated a COVID test, and at one point she was at home with me for 2 weeks due to a COVID positive exposure in class. My husband's job was new so he couldn't take off time to help. At some point things shifted so I was now doing all the daycare pickup and drop-off as well as all the bedtimes (unless I was physically at work).

Following Breonna Taylor and George Floyd there were large scale protests around the downtown area, where my hospital is located. I wholeheartedly support the movement, but someone told my kid it was dangerous to go downtown, and she became fearful of me going to work. This combined with the break in at our home lead to sleep refusal. Something I had to help he with, leading to bedtime taking hours, because my husband would yell at her. Most nights I was too tired after getting her to bed to do much, which lead to more work piling up.

Job hunting was not as fun as I had hoped it would had been. I had one in person interview, everything else was virtual. Thinking about working at a place I've never seen was terrifying.

Many places simply ghosted me. Lots weren't hiring. A few went on a hiring freeze after my interview.

Every interview asked what hobby I developed during lockdown. I admittedly could have answered this question better, and explained that I survived the lockdown with a toddler and that was an accomplishment.

My home institution decided to go with my co fellow over me. When I asked my mentor why she said they felt she had more to contribute to medical education than I do. I'm convinced that in part this has to do with all the lectures she wrote during lockdown.

I was able to get a job, but it's at a smaller community ED where we have a few beds in an adult ED. I mentioned to my associated program director I was a little disappointed, and suddenly everyone is telling me to be thankful for what I have.

I can be thankful and disappointed at the same time.

I think the biggest thing is a fear that if I hate this job I wont ever be able to find another one.

I also kind of resent my kid and husband, if I had more support or time to focus on fellowship things may have been different.

But life goes on. The vaccine was created, things opened up, and now those who aren't vaccinated can stop masking.

The my body my choice people who previously refused to mask are pleased, and now there are barely any masks when I go out (despite a not great vaccination rate in my area).

My kid is 3 and cant get the vaccine, so we still wear them. She loves to whine about how the others don't wear their masks. "It's not fair."

No, it really isn't.

Masks are still required in the hospital, which parents complain about daily. Recently every time I recommend a COVID test it has been refused. The pandemic is over. Kids can't get COVID. And other nonsense.

Kids as young as 12 can get vaccinated. However there is real concern about post vaccine myocarditis. Now everyone who comes in with chest pain wants to complain, even if they are unvaccinated.

Things have been stressful, and my kid is picking up on that. She still has trouble sleeping and has started having tantrums. We recently had a meeting with daycare and they want us to have seen by psych to get her evaluated.

I've found that I've lost interest in most of my hobbies, not that I have a lot of time for them. Fellowship finished and I have the next two weeks off before starting my new job. I was planning on spending it sleeping, cleaning the house, getting out the baby stuff as we are expecting a new little one in a couple of months, and rediscovering my hobbies.

Today I had an awful migraine. I cant take the meds I usually take because of the pregnancy, and my OB wont prescribe anything because he is worried about masking signs of preeclampsia. My husband refused to get up to watch the kid because he was tired, so I pushed through until he was ready to get up.

I lay down to try to get a nap and I get a call that there has been a case of COVID at daycare, and they will be closing for 2 weeks. They will open up the day I start my new job.

And this my friends is what has broken me.

I was so looking forward to finally have time for self care, and now I get to play stay at home mom again with my kid who is in isolation.

After that call I got up and left the house. I'm sitting in my car at the park writing this, and while I know I will go back home eventually, I'm tempted to drive off and let my husband deal with this for a change.

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penaltbox · 4 years ago

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study buddies - owen lindmark

here is a (seemingly) much anticipated re-post of an old fic that i still love so much. feedback is very appreciated; tell me your favorite line or part! i hope you guys like it the second time around, or if you’re new, the first!

“he just needs a little help staying caught up with things. the season keeps him busy so we like to ask students to help each other out,” your professor asked, smiling a little.

this is what you got for doing so well on the first test. you were stuck helping some hockey player study and take notes because he couldn’t be at class often enough.

just as you’re about to argue a boy comes busting through the classroom door, half out of breath. you see the red wisconsin backpack with a number 18 stitched into it.

“and here he is. this is owen lindmark, you’ll be working with him,” your professor explains.

owen smiles and it takes you back for a second. you weren’t prepared for a cute boy to need help and this one actually seemed nice.

“i’m so sorry i’m late. i promise i’m usually not like this,” he apologizes, sticking his hand out for you to shake.

you do so, immediately noticing how big his hand is. you swallow hard and pull your hand back, not needing to even think that way. he needed help with class and that was it. the professor lets you both off to do your own thing and owen hands you a schedule.

“i just figured it might help you to have the hockey schedule. i wrote on there as much info as i had about times i’d be busy so we can work a study schedule out. i’m okay with once a week unless you think we need more?” he says, looking nervous as he scratches the back of his neck.

you weren’t sure how such a large boy could look so shy, but you decided then that maybe this whole tutoring thing wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“well, just from looking at this i’m thinking tuesday nights might be our best chance? this is a monday/wednesday/friday class so we’d be studying between those days and then if you have a road trip we’re not missing any study time,” you explain, thinking out loud more than anything.

he smiles and pulls his phone out, handing it to you, “okay, tuesday’s it is. go ahead and put your number in just so we have them if something happens.”

you take his phone and plug your number in, trying to play it cool. he immediately texts your phone, but you don’t check it.

“okay, well i have to run to practice, but i’ll see you on tuesday?” he asks, another one of those bright smiles just about making your knees weak.

“yeah,” you say, knowing your voice sounded a little off.

he laughs a little and heads off anyways. you quickly unlock your phone, seeing the new message from him. it’s simple.

‘hey it’s owen 😁’

you shake your head, heading back to your dorm to tell your roommate about this one. you had a feeling it was going to be quite the semester.

—

owen is surprisingly tolerable for a d1 athlete. he doesn’t act better than other people, he doesn’t mind letting you pick where to meet up to do the studying. he even picks you up food and coffee some days.

“i hope that’s the right coffee order,” he laughs, setting the cup down.

you look up at him and smile, pretty surprised by it. you’d mentioned the first week that you loved this one coffee spot on campus and you always ordered the same thing.

“owen, you didn’t have to do that,” you blush, taking a sip of the warm liquid. it was perfect and he looked like a saint in that moment.

he shrugs, “it was nothing. i had to pass it on the way back from practice.”

“well i appreciate it. thank you,” you say quietly, opening your book up to the chapter you guys were on.

you start reading through your notes compared to what owen had and you can feel his eyes on you. you try not to look at first but eventually it’s too much.

you glance up and find him watching you, a blush dusting his face when he gets caught. he coughs a little and looks down at his book after a second.

“you really didn’t miss much,” you tell him, “i think you’re probably good to go this week.”

he looks up quickly, a small frown on his face, “oh. well i mean, we already came here. might as well keep working on stuff?”

you nod, telling him you don’t mind that. and even that quick the study dates were officially extended to whatever homework you both had with you that day.

—

he’d actually turned into a pretty good friend over the month or so since you got assigned to each other and you started looking forward to seeing him every week. it didn’t hurt that he sat by you in class now, too.

this tuesday was a meeting in the library again. owen looks exhausted and you know he’d had games over the weekend. he must not have had time to get much rest yet, so you try and condense what had been talked about in the last class he missed in case he wants to take off back to his place.

he lays his head down on his arms, groaning into the table, “i can’t do this any longer.”

you laugh a little at him, “it’s microbiology, o. did you expect it to be easy?”

he peaks up at you with the cutest scowl you’ve ever seen. it’s hard to take him serious when he looks like that and his eye roll tops it off.

“i should have picked a simple major like the rest of the team. this is ridiculous. i don’t understand this!”

you sigh and pull his notebook towards you. you realize he’d written something down a few lines ago that wasn’t correct about a transfer of disease.

“owen, come here. you don’t get it because you wrote it wrong,” you say, tapping the table next to you.

he grunts and gets out of his seat, moving to the one next to you instead. he crowds your personal space immediately, pressing his arm against yours as he leans over.

you turn your head to explain it to him without realizing how close he had gotten. his eyes are big as he waits for you to explain it and you have to look away from him. you know you’re blushing like crazy, but owen is polite and doesn’t pick on you for it.

you show him the section in the enormous textbook, telling him where he’d written the wrong thing down. the look on his face after is worth it though because he gets it then.

what you didn’t expect was for him to flip his book around and stay sitting next to you when he could have easily moved back to his previous chair. you tell yourself not to think about it, not needing to make this more complicated. owen apparently has other plans though.

“we’ve got a game this saturday,” he blurts out suddenly, “are you going?”

you look up at him, not even realizing it, “oh you do? i mean, i hadn’t thought about going.”

he looks down at his notebook before looking over at you, “maybe you should go. you might like it.”

“do you want me there?” you ask him. you have no clue where that bravery came from and you fully expected him to brush it off.

he smiles though, “yeah i’d love that.”

—

“brittney, are you sure about this?” you nervously ask your roommate.

owen had asked you to go, but you figured he probably told everyone to go to his games. brittney jumped at the chance to go when you mentioned it, swearing it would be fun. you knew she had alex turcotte in her management class though and wanted to see him as much as you wanted to see owen.

“it’ll be fine. you need to stop worrying so much. he’s your study buddy, not a random dude,” she shook her head, going into the kohl center without a worry at all.

you’d got to the rink earlier than expected so the boys were still warming up. you pull the sleeves of your wisconsin crewneck over your hands, crossing your arms as you watch them move around quickly.

you find owen easily as they skate around and a little smile makes its way onto your face. brittney’s telling you some story about alex in class and you’re half listening, but also wondering if the guys ever looked around at the people watching them.

you get your answer when a puck smacks the glass in front of you, making you jump and look back at the ice. you see owen laughing and stick handling another puck before tossing it into the glass again in the same spot.

you shake your head at him, but you’re not even mad. you imagine he’d be teasing you about it come tuesday but that was okay.

brittney looks over at you, asking, “what’s going on with you two? are you sure you’re just study buddies?”

you blush furiously, scoffing a little, “yeah, there’s nothing else going on with us. the last thing i need is to try and get with some college athlete just to end up embarrassed and heart broken.”

“okay that’s so dramatic. he obviously thinks you’re pretty cool if he invited you to the game tonight. it means he doesn’t mind being seen in public with you,” she pokes, knowing you were too shy to talk about him much.

“let’s just go sit down. i need food before i have to watch this,” you mumble, shoving the topic to the side.

you ended up with surprisingly good seats and the boys ended up winning, which was awesome. owen may have gotten a pretty decent assist and you know you’ll have to congratulate him on that later. you’re halfway down the street from the arena after the game when a text from owen shows up.

‘wait after for us’

you stop and look over at brittney, showing her the screen. her jaw drops and she slaps your arm, heading right back for the building you’d just walked out of.

“well we have to wait for him. also, find out who this ‘us’ is. tell him to bring alex,” she says, marching you both into the lobby.

you send owen a message to tell him where you were, getting more and more nervous as time ticked on. he didn’t send another text back and you frowned at the screen.

“what’s taking them so long? you don’t think he said that just to make me look dumb, do you?” you ask, checking your phone yet again to see if he messaged you.

she looks up to respond but a funny look takes over her face, like she’s trying to hide her smile. it fails horribly and you realize she’s looking over your shoulder.

before you can turn around to look two arms wrap around your shoulders from behind and hug you tight back into someone. you grab onto the arms, jumping when it happens, and see the suit coat that covers them. you know immediately that it’s owen.

you laugh, relaxing then, and looking up at him as your head rests back on his chest. the smile he gives you makes your heart strings tug and he surprisingly doesn’t pull away.

“that’s the second time i scared you tonight, huh?” he laughs.

you blush and nod a little, “yeah, thanks for that earlier. you had everyone around me laughing, too.”

“so how was the game?” he asks, rocking you both side to side.

“it was a lot of fun actually. your assist was pretty awesome,” you say, trying to keep your cool.

you look over, feeling bad that you’d forgot to introduce brittney to him but she was already fully immersed in a conversation with alex that had her finding an excuse to touch his tie. you know exactly what’s going on there so you look back up at owen.

“well, that’s my roommate. she has class with alex actually so it’s a good thing he came with you,” you laugh, still leaning into owen.

he nods, “yeah when i shot that puck at you earlier he looked over and said he knew her. guess he thinks she’s pretty hot or something.”

you laugh, knowing she’ll love to hear that one later. you’re not sure what to do next, but owen finally steps away, coming to stand next to you. he gets alex’s attention, mentioning something about getting to ‘the house’ before it got too late.

“you guys can come if you want,” alex says, giving you a little wave as he finally pulls his attention away from your roommate.

you return his wave but get nervous right away, not really ready for that part of things. you’d heard they partied a lot but you weren’t exactly prepared for that. brittney recognizes it and shakes her head.

“maybe next time. we’ve got stuff to do pretty early tomorrow,” she explains, saving you from looking like a big baby.

the boys don’t seem to think twice about it and walk outside with you both as you get ready to go two different ways. alex and brittney get in their own world again as owen turns towards you. god he looks so good in his suit, and you know you’re staring, but you can’t help it.

“i’ll see you in class monday, okay?” he asks quietly, pulling you into a hug.

it takes you a little off guard, but you hug him back tight. he’s so big and warm that you get lost in it for a second. as he pulls back his hand trails down your arm, grabbing your hand for a second. he gives you a quick wink before he and alex walk away, but of course brittney caught it.

“excuse me, what was that?” she tries to whisper but fails completely.

“i don’t know! he’s never done that!” you blush, trying to comprehend what just happened.

“he likes you,” she nods, laughing at your expression.

you shake your head, “no way. he can get any girl he wants. i’m just his study buddy.”

—

owen asks to hang out more often after that. in fact he texts you the day after his game and the day after that as well. when he shows up to class monday morning he brings you a coffee and your heart melts a little.

you knew to be weary of hockey players. you’d been around enough of them in high school to know how they acted, but owen seemed to be different. he leans over during the lecture to whisper in your ear at one point, which is thoroughly distracting.

“you wanna go hang in my room after this?” he asks, his voice deeper than you expected.

“yeah, i’m done with classes after this,” you nod, biting your lip as you look at him.

the smirk he gives you back lets you know you’re in trouble now with him. he weaseled his way in and you hardly had the chance to stop him.

the class passes by horribly slow after that, but the walk to owen's room is luckily pretty short. you’d been over once or twice, but not since the game. not since he came up behind you and hugged you.

you look around this time, not as worried about studying. the late october air is cool in his room and you noticed the window was cracked open a little. the view from his room is amazing and you get lost in it for a second.

owen comes up behind you, leaning his hand on the wall next to the window. you can all but feel him pressed against you but you don’t move.

“this is amazing, o,” you say softly, taking in all the fall colors on campus.

“yeah i really can’t complain,” he says, but you look back to find him looking down at you.

you clear your throat, blushing hard as you look away. he must have noticed the effect he had on you because he laughs a little and steps away.

“what do you say to watching a movie?” he asks, heading over to grab his laptop.

you turn around, sitting next to him on his bed, “sounds like a great idea to me.”

you might be guilty of leaning into him a few times that night, but really it’s his fault. he’s the one that puts his arm around you and lets you lay your head on his chest.

—

you decide to stay in that friday night but when a handful of texts from brittney come flying in to your phone you immediately panic a little.

‘dude owens at state street’

‘he’s with some girl??’

‘they’re standing CLOSE?!?’

‘wait she looks kissed. pissed. fuck.’

‘she left. omg alex is here i gotta go’

the whole thing makes your heart hurt and your head spin a little. of course owen was out with a girl. who were you to think you were more than just a study buddy? but he’d been so different lately. you really hoped this was some rude joke being played on you and owen wasn’t how you knew some guys to be.

you’d tried to keep that night off your mind as much as possible, but you’re not very successful. you can’t text him and ask, but that standing tuesday study date seems to come so much faster than you expected.

the weekend had blurred by and you found yourself at owen’s door, the agreed upon study location for that week. you suddenly think it might have been better to fake an emergency so you don’t have to go through with this considering he’d been awfully friendly the last time you were in his room for movie night.

you knock on the door quickly, wanting to get studying over with. you hear a groan that makes you frown and when owen opens the door you’re shocked.

the room is pitch black, he’s in pajamas with his glasses on, and his hair is a mess. he looks rough, like he wasn’t feeling well and it immediately makes your concern grow.

“o, what’s up? are you okay?” you ask softly.

he sighs, looking so defeated, “i caught something yesterday i think. or maybe this weekend. i’ve been sleeping so much and i can’t eat. i hate being sick.”

you can’t worry about who that girl was now even though that’s all you wanted to ask him about. instead you shuffle him back into his room, dropping your bag by the door.

you reach up to check his forehead considering how rosy his cheeks are, “owen, you’re burning up. have you eaten anything today?”

“eating and keeping it down have been two different things,” he mumbles, leaning into your hand.

you frown and reach for him, pushing him towards his bed. he easily complies, crawling back under the covers, but pushing them away.

“no, you need to cover up and sweat this fever out. i’ll run and get you some medicine and food that might be easier to keep down,” you tell him, looking for his keys.

“i’ll be right here,” he tries to joke, but he’s already falling back asleep as he says it.

you sigh, pushing a bit of his hair off his forehead. when did you turn into such a sucker for this kid? he had you all wrapped around his finger.

medicine and food were decently easy to locate and owen is still passed out when you get back to his room. you set everything on his desk, walking over to sit on the edge of his bed.

“hey, wake up. i need you to take some medicine,” you say, rubbing his back.

he groans again and peaks up at you, “i’m so tired still.”

“i know. maybe you shouldn’t have stayed out all night friday,” you joke before you realize what you said. you both freeze a little and look at each other.

“wait, how do you know i was out friday?” he asks, moving to sit up on the bed.

“uh, i didn’t. i don’t. i mean,” you stutter, not being quick enough to pull yourself out of it.

he shakes his head a little, “you didn’t know. brittney told you, didn’t she?”

you nod, not being able to look at him then. he probably thought you were keeping tabs on him or something. you’re lost in your own world when he reaches out, putting a finger under your chin to make you look at him.

“she saw the girl, right? and then texted you about it?” he asks softly.

you nod again, not trusting your words. you had already said the wrong thing once to get you to this spot.

he smiles though, relaxing suddenly, “she’s no one to worry about. well not anymore. we used to like talk and hook up, but a few weeks ago i started to really like someone so i told her we had to call it off.”

“oh,” is all you can manage to say. you can’t look at him. absolutely not. you couldn’t let him see how upset you were about it.

“well,” you say after a second, “medicine is in the bag and so is some food. i don’t think we want both of us sick so i should probably get going now.”

you’re up and moving towards the door before he can even protest, grabbing your backpack and tossing a goodbye over your shoulder.

you pull your phone out with shaky hands and shoot a quick text to brittney.

‘he used to hook up with that girl he was with friday. but he “called it off” bc he likes someone else’

you make your way back to your dorm quickly, trying to think of all the ways you’d be able to get out of your study buddy sessions for the rest of the semester. it couldn’t be over soon enough.

—

“are you sure you don’t want to come out with us?” alex asks, waiting for brittney to finish getting ready.

“no thanks. i have a paper i need to finish up so that i have study time next week,” you say, looking back at him and smiling.

you really should do the paper. it needed to get done, but your mind kept wandering. you’d avoided owen for the better part of two weeks, finding a couple good excuses to miss studying. but you’d run out now and this coming week would mean you’d see him again.

alex and brittney head out for the night, leaving you to yourself. you sigh, turning back to face your computer. you get a couple paragraphs written up when there’s a sudden sharp knock on your door.

you jump, getting up to go see if maybe brittney had forgot her keys or something. instead the peephole shows you owen standing there. not what you expected. you lean your forehead against the wooden door, taking a deep breath.

“what, owen?” you ask through it.

“will you please let me in? i think we both know we need to talk,” he says, sounding so close to the door.

you hesitate for a second but open it up. he waits for you to open it all the way, giving you a soft smile.

“well there she is. i thought she transferred schools or something with how absent she’s been,” owen jokes, stepping into the room.

you give him a little smile and follow him but he stops abruptly, causing you to run into him.

“shit, i’m sorry,” he turns around quickly, his hands coming up to hold your arms.

“i’m fine, really,” you say, trying to gently shrug him off.

he looks hurt, pulling his hands away from you, “hey, what’s going on? did i do something?”

you sigh, not even sure how to say this or where to start. he deserved an explanation, but you also didn’t want to get hurt and at this rate it was almost inevitable.

“i guess i was just hoping you were different from other guys i’ve known in the past,” you mumble.

he frowns, “what are you talking about? what happened?”

you look up at him, “i guess i just hoped you liked me for some reason. i know it’s dumb, but we were hanging out a lot so i just thought maybe it was different for you like it was for me. it’s fine if you don’t, i can’t force you to. it just sucks.”

he doesn’t respond immediately and it makes you start to get nervous. you glance back up at him and catch a half smile on his face.

“what!” you snap, feeling ready to breakdown about it all.

“you’re really cute when you’re all worked up,” he says and- wait, what?

“i’m what?” you ask, thinking you heard him wrong.

“you’re really cute when you’re all worked up like this,” he repeats.

“that’s all you have to say after what i just told you?” you scoff.

he laughs and nudges your shoulder, “i like you! have i not made that clear?”

you look up at him with wide eyes. you had to be imagining this. he wasn’t actually saying this right now.

“what?”

“not very clear then,” he mumbles almost to himself, “i invited you to my game. i even made sure to keep an arm around you so other people saw. we hang out more than we study anymore. we text all the time. you’re the only person i have a snap streak with.”

it all clicks into place a little better and you feel like an idiot. how did you miss all of this? you were so worried he’d found someone else to talk to that you didn’t even see how things had gone for the two of you.

“owen, are you serious?” you ask.

he nods, leaning in closer, “you really think i was hooking up with some other girl when i’ve got you?”

you blush, leaning against him as well, “i don’t know. i guess i just figured you wanted options.”

owen laughs, shaking his head a little, “no and the i needed to talk to you but you kept avoiding me. but i like you so i had to let you know, too. you kind of beat me to it though.”

“i like you too, o,” you smile, ignoring the small dig he made.

he leans down, kissing you suddenly. you press back immediately, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. he pulls back slowly, his thumb rubbing gently on your cheek.

“i think i could get used to that,” you mumble.

he nods, giving you one more quick kiss, “be my girlfriend and you can do it whenever you want.”

you know your face is red now and it feels all hot. you nod though, leaning up to kiss him. you pull back and smile down at him, one hand carding through his hair. he hums and closes his eyes for a few seconds.

“you’re not gonna avoid me for two more weeks now, right?” he jokes.

“no, you’re stuck with me now,” you laugh, leaning up to kiss the corner of his mouth.

he opens his eyes again and smiles at you, “movie before bed? i brought an extra shirt you can sleep in if you wanted. i’ll text alex for them to go sleep at our place tonight.”

“that sounds perfect,” you agree.

and yeah, things with him did seem pretty much perfect.

#owen lindmark #wisconsin hockey #mine #my writing #hockey fic #college hockey fic #hockey imagine #hockey writing

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irishseeeker · 3 years ago

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the story of us

summary: Five times Kate Sheffield and Anthony Bridgeton were just friends and one time they were more.

chapter 1: if one thing had been different, would everything be different?

Kate Sheffield and Anthony Bridgerton meet at Oxford University.

They’re both studying law and business, and they’re in the same college of the many in their university. They have nearly identical schedules, which usually resulted in heated debates in most of their lectures. They’re partnered up for seminars for their first semester, which means an hour a week the two of them and a tutor spend an hour discussing readings, essays and of course, arguing further.

Oddly enough, after a month of arguing and bickering, they sort of become best friends.

They lived in the same accommodation, a co-ed accommodation which Kate had thought was scandalous at first, but it ends up being amazing. They form a friend group in their course, and they all live together. It's sort of perfect, really. Kate had had friends in school, but she had never had a friendship group like this or a best friend like Anthony. For the first time, she felt like she truly belonged.

They still argued constantly, much to the amusement of their friends, but they also knew each other’s coffee orders and why he’s scared of bees and she’s scared of thunderstorms.

He’s the first boy-friend Kate has ever had, and she’s definitely his first platonic girl-friend as he seems to sleep with the rest of them.

They’re completely different, yet they understand each other. He’s a Bridgerton, an Oxford legacy with an actual title, and she’s a Sheffield from a small town in Somerset on a scholarship to Oxford. He went to Eton, she went to her local secondary school.

They spend their first year at university either in the library, in their rooms or drunk in a club or pub. Always together.

“So, you and Anthony,” Her friend, Anna, commented as they walked to class one chilly December day. Anthony was up ahead with some of the lads, the group of them laughing loudly and occasionally shoving each other. Kate had decided a while ago she would never fully understand the male species.

“Yes?” Kate asked, turning to raise an eyebrow at Anna. She knew what Anna was implying, it wasn’t the first time she had been asked about it and it was only December.

“You’re quite close,” She commented further, grinning at Kate as she opened up the Law building’s door.

“We’re good friends,” Kate shrugged, feeling her cheeks heat up. “That’s all.”

“The way he looks as you doesn’t seem that friendly to me,” said Anna, nudging Kate with her hip. Anna had long blonde hair, pale skin and a wide smile. She was also very petite. Kate was the opposite.

Kate was tall, around 5’10, which people oddly liked to to remind her about a lot. As if she wasn't aware of it. She was lucky she had never suffered from acne, bar the occasional stress spots, so her skin was clear and smooth. She had long, dark thick hair. It never stayed straight and was always knotted, so she usually just let it lie down her back. She had met the girls Anthony typically went for and she didn’t fit the picture.

Kate had long accepted that and wouldn't entertain the idea any further.

“He doesn’t look at me like anything,” Kate rolled her eyes, feeling her throat closing up slightly as they walked into their lecture hall and took a seat in the middle. “He saw me puke my guts out last week, so it’s fair to say he’s not looking at me like anything.”

She had gotten far too drunk on a night out last Thursday and she could still feel her hangover. It had been a particularly stressful day with a bad grade on an essay and a harsh feedback session from a tutor. She had embarrassingly burst into tears when Anthony had stopped by her room to go to dinner, and he held her as she cried and called their tutor a twat.

He then suggested they all go out. She had apparently danced on top of tables, attempted to take most of her clothes off (and was stopped from doing so) and then passed out. Anthony had carried her home. Not that she remembered anything, most of the night was a blur.

She was never drinking tequila again.

“He was the one holding your hair back,” Anna gave her a pointed look, raising her eyebrows. “I’m just saying, I think you two would be good together. Kate and Anthony has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?

Before Kate could object, she felt someone appear sit down beside them. “Hey,” A voice appeared beside them and Kate nearly jumped, looking at Anthony. He was wearing a grey jumper and jeans, his nose red from the cold outside. “What are you talking about?”

“What we’re wearing to the Law ball,” Anna replied swiftly, and Kate let out a sigh of relief that her friend had stopped talking. The Law Ball was being held next weekend, just before the term ended for Christmas and all assignments were over.

“Oh,” Anthony said, taking out his laptop and logging into it. “Well, Kate, you should wear something that’s hard to get out of. I don’t think the law society will take kindly to one of its members stripping in the middle of the dancefloor.”

“Fuck off.” She elbowed him as Anna burst out laughing, and Anthony grins at her. She can’t help but laugh too even if she’s mortified.

After Christmas, when they’re back at university and exams are over, he teaches her how to drive. Mary, her step-mother and the only mother she’s ever had, never learned, and everything had been within walking distance back home. She had never had the chance to learn. She had got the train to university when she’d moved, and you walked everywhere. Anthony always had his car with him as he went home a lot to see his siblings and mother.

When he finds out she can’t drive, he insists on teaching her. “I’ve taught two of my siblings. Including Colin. If I can teach Colin, I can teach anyone.”

They’re about ten minutes into it before they start arguing.

Kate had never thought driving could be so stressful.

“Clutch!”

“I am clutching!” She shrieked, pushing the pedal forward as her ankles began to ache.

“Fuck me-brake, Kate!”

“Stop shouting at me!”

She pulls up the handbrake so hard she’s surprised she didn’t break it, and gets out of the car and refuses to get back in. They had gone to a retail park with a largely empty parking lot to practice in. He eventually convinces her to get back in the car, after apologizing numerous times, and he’s a lot nicer as she gets behind the wheel again.

Her birthday is in March, and he gets her driving lessons. They’re ridiculously expensive, and she initially refuses to accept them for a week. They argue about it, money has never been an object to him and it’s something she’s never had much of, so their perspectives are different.

She eventually accepts them and thanks him, after he insists for the twentieth time he didn’t mean it in any way other than to help her and so he would never have to teach her. She really wanted to be able to drive, to be able to afford a car eventually and drive home to Mary and Edwina more. She did warn him if he ever spent more than 20 pounds on her again, she’d murder him.

It’s the start of May when she passes her test, and he’s waiting for her outside the centre. He twirls her around as she runs towards him, shouting she’d passed, and they get McDonalds to celebrate. She thanks him for everything, and he shrugs it off because he’s Anthony. They do celebrate with their friends in the pub later that evening, and she gets very drunk, but their McDonalds that afternoon will hold a special place in her heart.

She’s beginning to think he always will, too.

Her dad’s memorial service is on a Sunday in June. It had been five years since he died, five years of missing him and him missing everything. Her graduating school, her getting into university, her first day at university. Kate planned to get the train back home for the day and get the last one back this evening. She had two exams on Friday and Saturday so she couldn’t have gone home earlier, and she couldn’t miss any of her tutorials or lectures tomorrow. A part of her was relieved, she didn’t want to stay at home. It was too sad and university was a good distraction.

It was far too early to be awake on a Sunday, it was 7am, but she had to be home before twelve for the service and the train was two hours.

Her phone buzzed, and she glanced at the whatsapp messages that appeared on her screen.

Anthony: i’m outside

Kate raised an eyebrow at the text, grabbing her bag and heading downstairs, outside their accommodation. She walked out onto the road, eventually spotting him. “Anthony?”

“Hey,” He said, smiling at her. He was leaning against his car, his hands in his pockets. “We better hit the road. We’ll need to stop at a Starbucks drive through as well, I need caffeine.”

Kate stared at him, unsure of what to say or what was going on. He had been the person she had mentioned it to out of their friends, that she wouldn’t be around on Sunday. “What do you mean? I’m going to my dad’s service.”

“I know Kate,” He said softly, opening the passenger side door for her. “I figured I’d drive you. I don’t want you to be alone, so I thought I’d come. I know how hard today can be, so,” He shuffled his feet awkwardly, clearly very uncomfortable. “If it’s okay, that is. If you don’t want me to come, I can go.”

She stared at him. “Oh Anthony,” She half sobbed, completely breaking down and throwing herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck. It was probably the nicest thing someone had ever done for her. She hadn’t realized how much she had needed someone until she saw him in front of her. She squeezed him tightly, pushing the tears back that were brewing under her eyelids. “Thank you.”

She hadn’t had to ask, he was just there. That was Anthony Bridgerton.

“It’s okay,” He murmured, squeezing her back before she removed herself off him, half sniffling. Anthony had never handled emotional women well. “Let’s go? You have music privileges but if I hear one one direction song, they’re gone.”

“As if you don’t already know the lyrics and like them,” Kate teased, climbing into the car and putting on her seatbelt.

“I have three younger sisters,” He grumbled, flicking a glance at the rearview mirror as he pulled out onto the road. “Of course I know the lyrics.”

It’s a long and hard day, but she feels better when Mary, her stepmother, her mum, opens their front door and hugs her. Edwina squeals as she runs towards Kate, hugging her tightly.

“Hey guys,” Kate said, smiling as she stepped aside and gestured awkwardly to Anthony. “This is my friend from university, Anthony.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Anthony said, oddly formal as he extended his hand. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you. It’s a pleasure to meet you too,” Mary said, smiling at Anthony as she gestured to them to come inside. “Come in! We can have some tea and biscuits before we head off.” She shot Kate an amused smile behind Anthony’s back, who was being lead into the kitchen by a chattering Edwina.

Kate ignored Mary, because she knew that look and there was no look needed. There was nothing going on between her and Anthony.

The memorial is long, and quite sad. Anthony puts his arm around Kate at one point, when she can’t hold her tears, silently streaming down her cheeks. There’s a small lunch at the local pub afterwards, which Kate spends mostly talking to old friends of her fathers and familiar faces she hadn’t seen since she had left for university.

Kate takes Anthony on a walk down the pier, where she spent most of her childhood hanging out with her friends. “I had my first kiss there,” She pointed at the edge of the pier where there were a few steps that led to the sea. “I had my first drink there as well. I remember how disgusted I was about how disgusting beer was. All that hype for it to taste like piss.”

Anthony snorted, licking his lips as he tried to keep up with his melting ice cream. His face was a mess, a few sprinkles at the edge of his ice cream stained mouth. “Very romantic. So this is where the Kate Sheffield came to be?”

“It is indeed. Here,” She chuckled, stopping in her tracks as she reached up to wipe his white stained mouth softly. “You’re very messy.”

He was staring at her as she wiped his mouth, and her brain had only caught up with her actions a few moments later. She was touching his face, her hand on his cheek as she wiped his mouth.

His mouth.

His perfectly, slightly rose tinted lips.

“Oh my god! Kate!” Her old school friend, Ophelia Nixon, who had gone to university in Nottingham screeched as she ran up to Kate and hugged her. Kate introduced Anthony and they made polite conversation before Kate said they better head back as they had a long drive ahead of them.

The moment between her and Anthony had come and gone as quickly as it had happened. Neither of them acknowledged it.

Kate shook her head, thinking she was being ridiculous. There wasn’t a moment, of course there wasn’t.

Right?

“I like him,” Mary said later that evening, hugging Kate at the doorstep as her and Anthony were about to leave. Anthony had already said goodbye, and he was waiting in the car to give the Sheffields a private moment.

“I like him too,” Kate said, giving her mother a pointed look. “As a friend.”

“Of course dear,” Mary brushed Kate’s thick hair out of her eyes, winning at her. “It was lovely to see you, darling. Safe drive home. I love you a lot.”

“I love you too,” She hugged Mary one last time, before moving to hug her sister.

“I hate when you go,” Edwina murmured, wrapping her arms around her sister tightly. “You should bring back boys more. Especially ones who look like that.”

“Edwina!”

“What?” Her sister replied innocently, but she was smirking. “He definitely likes you.”

“I love you,” Kate said pointedly, ending the conversation as she pulled away from her sister. “I’ll call you both later.”

“Love you,” Edwina was laughing, waving in her and Anthony’s direction. “Bye Anthony!”

Anthony looked up and waved as Kate groaned, turning to give her a sister a murderous glare as she climbed into the car.

“You okay?” Anthony asked as Kate waved at her mother and sister’s fading figures as they drove off.

“Yeah,” She said, that feeling of sadness still aching slightly in the pit of her stomach. The years passed, and it got slightly easier, but it would always hurt. She smiled at him. “Thank you for today.”

“Of course,” said Anthony, returning her smile before focusing back on the road as they sat in a comfortable silence. Kate felt herself dozing off, the events of the day catching up on her, but as she fell asleep thinking about how much her dad would have liked Anthony.

Siena Rosso comes into the picture at the start of their second year. Kate doesn’t understand their relationship, if it even is a relationship, and deep down she knows she doesn’t want to understand. She prefers to not think about it, prefers to not think about that gut wrenching feeling in the pit of her stomach when she sees them together.

Besides, Siena is nice. She’s studying drama in the year below them. She’s witty, gorgeous, has no problem putting Anthony in his place and Kate understands why he likes her. She’s absolutely nothing like Kate.

Kate had never had much experience with boys, something she had long come to terms with in school and was once aware of again in university. It did happen, she had more opportunities in university-it just didn't happen a lot. Boys didn’t seem to gravitate towards her and she never got asked out on dates. It just wasn’t something that happened to her.

Edwina had even gotten a boyfriend long before Kate had.

She’s at a party one night in October, and Anthony isn’t there. Kate had been trying to make more of an effort with people outside of their friendship group and particularly people who weren’t Anthony. He had a life outside of her, and she would have one outside of him. She was invited by Poppy, a girl she had met in one of her history electives.

She gets paired up with Simon Basset for beer pong at the pre-drinks, and they were getting on very well. She didn’t know him at all, she only knew of him from Anthony. They had gone to Eton together, but Kate hadn’t met him until tonight. Anthony had been good friends with him for years, but hadn’t thought to introduce Kate or invite her whenever him and Simon met up.

“I’m Simon,” He introduced himself as grinned at her. “I really don’t like losing at beer pong.”

“Good thing I don’t lose,” Kate replied swiftly, smirking right back at him.

They walk to the club together and he gives her a piggyback when she complains her feet hurt. She puts up an instagram story of Simon and her winning beer pong and another of them smiling at the camera.

She ignores Anthony’s reply to her story, and she drinks more.

When she's on her third drink, Kate decides her and Simon were flirting. They were definitely flirting.

“What course did you say you were in again?” Simon shouts over the music, his hands lingering on her waist.

“Law,” Kate shouts back at him, leaning up slightly to speak in his ear.

“Ah! Do you know Anthony Bridgerton?”

"Yeah!" Kate tries to contain the grin that forms on her face the minute he's mentioned. "He's one of my best mates."

“Wait,” said Simon, the grin on his face completely disappearing. “You’re Kate?”

“Yeah,” She said, raising an eyebrow slightly at Simon's fallen face. “Has he mentioned me?”

“I can’t do it, I’m sorry,” Kate looks confused and Simon sighs, shaking his head. “I can’t do it to Anthony.”

“What? Can’t do what?” said Kate, raising an eyebrow. “Oh! No, no. We’re just friends!”

“I still can’t,” Simon insisted, actually taking a step back from her. Did Eton breed these boys to be so dramatic? “Believe me, I want to, but I can’t. Bro-code.”

“That’s ridiculous. Wait, did he say something to you?” Kate asked, raising an inquisitive eyebrow at him and feeling quite infuriated. Why couldn’t he do that to Anthony? Kate was his friend, not his sister. Not that it made a difference but to boys it clearly did. Kate didn’t know what category it fell into.

Simon just winked at her, “I better go before I do something I’ll regret but really won’t regret. I’ll see you around Kate,” Simon then literally ran away from Kate, and Kate was left standing there, gobsmacked.

“What just happened?” Poppy asked, walking up to Kate and following her gaze towards the back of Simon’s head, fading into the crowd.

Kate sighed, taking a long gulp of her vodka and cranberry. “I have absolutely no idea.”

The following day, Kate was feeling rather sorry for herself as she sat in the common room of their accommodation. She was incredibly hungover, exhausted and had sat through two lectures back to back that morning. She was meeting Anthony for lunch before she went to sleep for the rest of the day.

Anthony strode into the common room, a frown on his face as he sat down opposite her. "Were you with Simon Basset last night?”

“Wha?” Kate mumbled, her hangover pounding against her temple. “Hello to you too. Oh, yeah.” She would have rather forgotten about him, the guy who had rejected her in the middle of the club.

“And?” Anthony pressed, staring at Kate rather disgruntled.

Kate sat up, rather confused at his attitude. She was more than familiar with Anthony's moodiness, but this was slightly bizarre. He looked pissed. “And what?”

“Kate,” Anthony snapped, looking oddly serious as he pulled out his sandwich. “What do you think? Did you get with him?”

She didn’t care for his tone and she glared at him as she lifted her head. She ignored his question. “Did you say something to Simon Basset about me?”

Anthony gaped at her, his mouth hanging open with his half chewed lunch. “What?”

“Ew, shut your mouth you animal,” She scolded, making a face at him. “He mentioned you last night.”

Anthony put his sandwich down, looking at her seriously. “Did you get with him?”

Kate felt her cheeks heat up, forcing herself to look at him and scowl. “That’s none of your business!”

He was not pleased in the slightest. His tone was cold with a hint of irritation, lower than usual. “Kate.”

“Anthony.”

He leaned forward as he spoke, “Seriously, Kate.”

“Not that it has anything to do with you, but no, we didn’t!” She exclaimed, not understanding why he was acting quite hostile and why he was acting that question. They weren’t the type of friends to talk about who they got with, and Kate wasn’t really that type of person anyway. She was easily mortified. “He wouldn’t because of you. Something about some misogynistic bro-code.”

Anthony let out what looked like a sigh of relief, but she wasn’t sure. She knew that she would never truly understand men, and this was another example of why she shouldn’t ever bother trying.

“What did you say to him?” Kate asked, frowning at him, now happily munching away at his sandwich. She felt ridiculous asking, but she was confused and annoyed. “Did you tell him not get with me? You better not have Anthony Bridgerton. I will murder you.”’

“I didn’t tell him anything! Jesus, Kate. It’s Bro-Code. You don’t get with sisters, girlfriends, ex-girlfriends or girls who are best friends of your friends. There’s some lines you don’t cross,” He shrugged. “It would be like me getting with Edwina.”

“Okay, I’m eating my lunch and I'm extremely hangover,” She gagged, shuddering at the thought. “That is not the same. That code is ridiculous. Women aren't possessions you can ban your friends from getting with simply because they mean something to you.”

“It would be like you getting with Benedict!” The coloured veins in his neck were sticking out and she could see his frustration. “It’s wrong and immoral.”

“Again, eating my lunch. Benedict is a child so that’s another disgusting example I won't be entertaining. You're being absolutely ridiculous,” She shook her head, “I can still get with whoever I want. I don’t need your permission or some stupid code dictating that.”

“I never said you did,” He retorted, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Besides, Basset is my friend and all, but he’s bad news. He flies through girls. He’s not relationship material.”

“That’s sort of the pot calling the kettle black, though, isn’t it? Siena is still with you.” She felt like she had gone too far, but she was too angry to care. Siena was a sensitive topic, an unspoken topic, but she did it anyway. “I know what I can handle.”

“Do you, though?” His tone wasn’t angry, it was cold. She had struck a nerve. He looked at her with a blank expression and Kate felt like he was looking right through her. “It’s not like you know what you’re talking about. You’re not exactly experienced, are you?”

Kate stared at him, speechless, as if her ability to speak had been slapped out of her. She felt the heat rush behind her eyes and the tears that were quickly following, but in that moment she’d rather die than cry in front of him.

She just grabbed her bag and walked off, ignoring his calls behind her.

They don’t speak for three days, which frankly, sucks. It's their first big fight in the two years they've known each other. They bickered constantly but they never actually fought. It was awful. They still had to see each other, at lectures and around the university, but she sits at the back and as far away from him as possible. He had tried to speak to her and pretend like nothing had happened the following day, but she had just walked past him.

He had really hurt her feelings. Her lack of experience was a sensitive topic, and he knew that, everyone knew that and he had still thrown it back in her face.

“Kate?”

It’s a Wednesday night and she’s in her room, writing an essay about corporate law. She had said no to going to the pub with her friends, she wasn’t in the mood. She was trying to focus on her lectures but her mind kept revolving back to Anthony bloody Bridgerton.

“Kate, I know you’re in there. I can see the light,” Anthony’s voice was loud and clear through her door. “Please talk to me. I’m really sorry about what I said. I didn’t mean it. I was an asshole.”

She didn’t say anything, twirling her pen around with her fingers. Her breath had caught in her throat as she heard his voice, she hadn’t expected him to be there. She figured he had gone to the pub, or was out with Siena.

“I hate not talking to you. I miss you. Please? I brought you those cookies you like. And those fizzy bears,” His voice was pleading, and she knew he meant it. “I’m so sorry. Please.”

She opened the door after a few seconds, staring at him, and then at the goods in his hands. Her willpower had long expired and he sounded so sad, so desperate. He sounded like she felt. “White chocolate chip?”

“Of course,” He said, standing up straight and handing her the food. “I’m so sorry, Kate. Can I-?"

“Come in,” She murmured, walking in and collapsing on her bed. She pulled her legs up, making room for him on the bed. She opened the fizzy bears, offering them to him first.

He hesitated as he looked at her, biting his lip. “We’re okay?”

She nodded, “We’re okay. I am sorry about what I said too, you know. About the pot calling the kettle black comment. You were still a bigger asshole, but I’m sorry.”

“I deserved it. You’re not wrong and I wasn’t exactly nice, was I?” She snorted, and he laughed. “I really did mean it from a good place. I don’t want anyone to mess you around like that.”

“I know, but I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” She replied, licking the sugar off her lips. “You need to take that toxic masculinity down a notch, Bridgerton.”

“I know, I know what I said was wrong. It took me longer than I'd like to admit, but I understand that now,” He replied, his voice soft and she felt guilty for being mean to him. He didn’t look great, he looked tired and the skin under his eyes was darker than usual. “I am sorry. Please don’t ever ignore me again. I’d rather get my wisdom teeth out again than go through that.”

“Well, don’t be an asshole and we won’t have any problems, will we?” said Kate, smiling sweetly at him as she opened up the cookies, feeling the white chocolate melt in her mouth. It tasted glorious.

“Whatever or who you want to do, I will support it. I promise,” He looked slightly in pain as he spoke. “I really am sorry.”

“I know,” She nudged him with her foot. “We’re friends again, relax.”

He looked relieved but slightly uneasy. “Is this one of those friendship moments where we should hug?”

She snorted, rolling her eyes. Affection was not something that came natural to Anthony Bridgerton but it was adorable when he tried. “Hard pass.”

They spent the rest of the evening in her dorm, chatting about everything and anything. It had only been three days of not speaking, and she had missed him more than she should have. She had missed him a dangerous amount, and it seemed like he had missed her too.

Kate shook her head, pushing those thoughts to the back of her mind as she focused on Anthony’s story about some trouble his younger brother Colin had gotten into in Eton yesterday. Ever since his father died, Colin had been acting more and more reckless. Anthony didn’t know what to do with him and his mother just coddled Colin.

Their second year is a blur of exams, parties, clubbing, more exams, assignments as winter turns to spring and spring to summer. It’s over before it feels like it has started, and Kate can’t believe it.

Anthony’s on and off relationship ends as well, when Sienna decides to study abroad in Paris for her second year and leaves at the start of the summer. Kate doesn’t let herself think about why she feels lighter, but she still brings him McDonalds and beer when he texts them they broke up. His room is pretty much packed up, unlike Kate, Anthony is very organized. Their second year was officially over and they were leaving tomorrow. Kate hadn’t even packed, but she knew he’d help in the morning.

He doesn’t talk about his feelings, obviously, because he’s Anthony. They watch New Girl instead, on his laptop, eating crisps and drinking coke, until he shocks her and talks.

“She said I was lost,” He murmured, playing with his pocket watch. It was something he always did. “That I didn’t know what I wanted and she couldn’t keep waiting for me to figure it out. I wasn’t fair to her.”

“Oh,” said Kate, gulping slightly. Kate was just above Anthony on how to deal with feelings and general emotion, and that bar was set pretty low anyway. “I think, sometimes, some of us just take longer to figure out what we want. She must know she wants and she’s not wrong for going after it, even if it means leaving other people behind.”

“That doesn’t mean she’s right about you though,” She continued, trying to phrase her words delicately. “You’ve been through a lot, Anthony. It’s okay if you need more time to figure things out. We’re still young. No one meets the person they’re meant to be with when they’re 20 years old.”

“My parents met when they were 18,” He retorted, raising a pointed eyebrow. Anthony’s parents had been madly in love since they were teenagers and they had had Anthony quite young.

“Okay, well, they’re the exception then, not the rule,” She nudged him with her elbow lightly. “I know we’re not the feeling sort, but everything is going to be okay. It hurts because she mattered, and that’s a good thing. It’s better than not feeling anything at all. And eventually it will hurt less and less, and I’ll be here until it doesn’t.”

“Thanks, Kate,” murmured Anthony, looking uncomfortable but he still nudged her back which is probably the most affectionate exchange they’ve ever had between them. “Thank god you’re you. I couldn’t handle a friend who asks me how I’m feeling all the time.”

Kate snorted, rolling her eyes. The word rang in her head, a friend, but that’s what she was. That’s what he was to her. Her best friend, really. Then why did it sting when he said it? “I mean this is the nicest way possible, you need to see a therapist.”

He smacked her with a pillow, and she kicked him in the ribs, and that was the last they spoke of Siena and anything remotely to do with feelings.

Kate ignored the mixture of guilt and relief in her chest to see the back of Siena. She didn't question why it was there.

Kate had been away for most of the summer after their second year of university, traveling abroad with Edwina and Mary. It had been a trip Mary had saved up for for years and it was finally happening. They went interrailing around Europe, from Prague to Paris, staying in hostels and traveling by train.

It was the longest Kate and Anthony had ever been apart since they had met, and it was strange. They spoke on facetime most days, well, Kate spoke and Anthony listened as she spoke about her travels around Europe with her mum and sister. She sent him the picture of her holding the eiffel tower, a picture of her at the colosseum and sunset at a beach in Mykonos.

Not that Kate would ever admit it to another living soul, as much as Edwina had teased her relentlessly about it, she had missed him a lot. She had come to the realization that Anthony was her best friend. Her first, true best friend. He was someone she had always wanted to have in a friend, one that was depicted in movies and television shows-she had had good friends before university, but no one was like Anthony. She didn’t have to be anyone but herself around him.

She was thrilled when he had asked her to spend the last month of the summer with Anthony at his house in Kent. She loved Mary and Edwina but Somerset was boring and she needed to get away.

Kate felt strange.

She had this uncomfortable, nauseous feeling in the pit of her stomach for most of the train ride on her way to Kent. Their flight had arrived in England yesterday morning and once they had driven home, Kate was gone the next morning. She had barely slept last night but she wasn’t sure if it was out of excitement or anxiety at the thought of seeing Anthony again.

She had changed her outfit three times before setting on a violet sundress with a daisy print.

It was just Anthony, Kate.

That was the problem.

It was Anthony.

The train finally pulled in at her station, snapping Kate out of her complicated thoughts and she dragged her suitcase off the baggage railing, glancing around. It was an old station, all she could see in the distance was fields and trees. It was just before noon and all the station had was a man behind the information desk and a small corner shop.

She walked out to the front of the station, half wheeling and half dragging her semi-functioning suitcase behind her as she glanced around the car park. Kate pulled out her phone, pressing the call button on Anthony’s contact.

“About time.”

Kate turned around to see Anthony Bridgerton grinning at her, a pair of black sunglasses covering his eyes. He looked so relaxed, in a simple white t-shirt and blue shorts, suitable for a warm English August in Kent.

It made her feel warm inside.

“Hey there, stranger,” Kate said, her cheeks beginning to ache as her grin matched his own.

She didn’t know who moved first, but when Anthony’s tanned arms wrapped around her, essentially lifting her off the ground and her arms wrapped around his neck, there was one thing Kate knew for certain.

It was the best hug of her entire life.

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #kate sheffield #this is a slow burn #friends to lovers #modern au - university #kate x anthony #bridgerton fanfiction #ao3 #fanfiction #chapter 2/6 coming soon!

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melofanish · 4 years ago

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Through Rivers of Family Blood

Have Me, Have You, Have Us

Summary: Carlos slings his bag over his shoulder, sighing as he barely resists slamming the car door and jogging up the short stairs to the gym. It's his day off, and even though he's meeting with TK later on and that should have him in a good mood, he’s on edge, tethering the line to downright pain and anger, so he figured he could relearn whatever skills he might have forgotten over the past few years while punching his frustrations out rather than stew in his resentment.

Carlos can’t stop the booming laugh he lets out as he stands up, as Marjan drags him to his own car. She will never replace Dora - no one will ever be able to - but Carlos is starting to think that maybe he’s earned himself a younger sister, even though Marjan claims otherwise.

-Chapter Two of Have Me, Have You, Have Us.

Tags: Carlos Reyes, TK Strand, Paul Strickland, Marjan Marwani, Mateo Chavez, Judd Ryder, Owen Strand, Michelle Blake, Original Female Character, Original Male Character, Developing Friendship.

Warnings: Light emotional angst.

Beta: The owner of my soul @lire-casander. There’s literally no words to explain how much help this woman has been. She’s sat through me screaming cause of lack of inspiration, she’s been a sounding board as I threw messes of ideas at her, and then somehow made sense of all of them. This would not have been done without her, and I’m forever grateful.

Chapter 1

Read on AO3.

---

Chapter 2: Marjan: Through Rivers of Family Blood.

Carlos slings his bag over his shoulder, sighing as he barely resists slamming the car door and jogging up the short stairs to the gym. It's his day off, and even though he's meeting with TK later on and that should have him in a good mood, he’s on edge, tethering the line to downright pain and anger, so he figured he could relearn whatever skills he might have forgotten over the past few years while punching his frustrations out rather than stew in his resentment.

His sister hasn’t been approved for time off. And neither has he. Which means they’re going to enter their third year of not meeting face-to-face. And he’s much more discouraged by it than he thought he could ever be. It hurts even more that they were going to go on a weekend vacation together - Dora was finally meeting TK in person - and the image of waking up to the two most important people talking and laughing together takes a step back, resigning to be unfulfilled in a yet again unknown timeline.

So he marches in and stands in line to the counter, getting the formalities over as fast as possible. He was hoping he could catch a quick run on a treadmill before the kickboxing class that he’s here for, but he’s barely fifteen minutes early, and he knows that’s not enough time - it still doesn’t stop him from longing for the burn that would spread across his thighs as he pushes himself harder than he should.

As he hands his membership card and is given the sign-in paper, somehow, even through the blurriness that's clogging up his mind right now, he notices 'Marjan Marwani' two rows over his own name.

A slight frown takes over his features before it clears up quickly. He remembers Marjan and Paul mentioning that they workout together. He just didn't think that he'd meet someone he knows his first day in a new gym.

He just about hands the paper board back when he feels a pat over his arm. He turns around to none other than a smirking Marjan.

"Here to show off your muscles to TK?"

Like a magic spell, Carlos laughs - for the first time today - Marjan bringing a quick lightness to his world. He shakes his head and follows Marjan when she motions towards the locker area with a flick of her head.

"Hello to you too, I'm very well, thank you very much for asking," he says, which Marjan rolls her eyes at, but he pays her no mind, and keeps going, "How's yourself I wonder? I hope all is well?"

"Yeah, yeah, okay, Mr. Polite Texan Gentleman."

It's Carlos' turn to groan now. The crew saw him open the car door for TK once, and, apparently, the nickname has become a thing.

"Just wanted to kill a little time since I have nothing else to do,” he chooses to ignore her and explain instead, continuing when she raises an eyebrow at him. “Captain Strand has a hospital appointment today, so TK's over there with him," he elaborates.

Marjan lets out a sympathetic hum, frowning as she undoubtedly racks her mind for any mention of this session. He knows she won't find it. He confirms that no one knows about it when she asks.

"Damned Strands and their need to internalise everything," she huffs. And Carlos can't help but snort in agreement, even if he thinks he’s somewhat a hypocrite at this specific moment.

"I'd much rather punch the frustration out," she continues, and that is something Carlos finds himself agreeing with yet again.

"Which class are you taking?"

"Kickboxing," Marjan says, pulling up her arms in a classic defensive stance. “Started when I still was in Miami, and moved to this location since I moved here.”

"Oh, it’s my first class today!" he exclaims as he raises a fist to bump it to hers.

He hasn’t kickboxed in years, and he’s never been to this specific gym. He’s always been highly sceptical of it as a whole; it’s a famous chain with branches all over the country, and this specific branch is giant. Carlos would pass by it and wonder why it’s so large, why it takes up so much space. Knowing that Marjan has been a regular attendant brings a sense of relief. The fact that the recommendation came from his sister - she goes to the same gym in New Jersey - meant that he’d at least give it a try before deciding anything against it.

They fall into an easy silence as they walk to the locker areas, branching off to different sides when Marjan enters the Female-Only section of the lockers with a promise to meet him outside once she’s changed.

He hurries to the lockers, following the numbers until he gets to his assigned compartment for the day. He had caught a shower at home right before he left, so all he has to do now is change from his casual sweatpants and t-shirt into his workout gear. Which means that he barely needs five minutes before he’s leaving the locker room to find a seat in the lounge area.

Except that he must have miscalculated the time, because the moment he sets foot into the lounge area, the speakers come to life, announcing the end of the current classes and asking all attendants of the next class to make their way towards their designated halls.

So Carlos turns himself right back around, looking around the open hall for a moment trying to find the room that he’s supposed to go to before he finds the needed label and arrow, and follows them down a long hall.

He ends in a large hall, the entire front wall lined by mirrors, and what looks like an audio station shelf in one corner, a couple of headsets hanging from the corner. There are long benches that surround both sides and tables at the very end of said benches, water bottles and towels laid down across the top. The entire floor is lined with foam flooring, tape lines stretched across, marking squares where everyone has gone to stand. There are multiple sizes of punching bags both sitting on the floor and hanging from the ceiling.

Carlos can’t help the shocked expression he knows he must be making. He didn’t expect the gym to be as well furnished as it is. Especially not with the number of classes that they offer. And yet, as he stands in what is the best kickboxing hall he has ever set foot in, he can’t help but think that he might have found his new favourite gym.

He makes his way to an empty square, placing his water bottle on the ground at the edge of his border before standing in the middle. He starts cracking his joints, turning his neck both ways and folding his fingers in to get into the mindset for what he’s about to do.

Carlos would never call himself out of shape, but he is aware that he has lost much of his kickboxing abilities throughout the years. It started as a way to destress when he was a teenager, a safe and useful mechanism that helped him relieve his frustrations while keeping him healthy. As he grew older, it stopped being a coping mechanism and swung to being a sport. Unfortunately, once he graduated from the Academy and was a full-fledged officer at APD, free days came by less and less, forcing him to eventually give up the sport altogether.

So, when Dora informed him of this new program that had multiple classes throughout the week and the ability for its attendees to catch any of the week’s scheduled classes as long as they book a minimum of twenty-four-hours earlier, he knew it was a chance he couldn’t miss up.

Still, a breath of relief filled his chest at the sight of Marjan coming to stand next to him. He throws a grateful smile her way, and she responds with a low chuckle and a shake of her head. He's about to retaliate in a way, maybe take a page out of TK's book and stick his tongue out at her, when the coaches at the front of the room call the class to attention.

With a final shared grin, they both look ahead, listening as they explain the goal of the class and the plan of the day and the upcoming six weeks.

Marjan was not supposed to kick his ass the way she did.

It's not that he doesn't think she's fit or strong; she's a firefighter - and an adrenaline junkie - so he knows she's on top of her physical health.

It's just that Carlos thought that he was on top of his own physical health. And it turned out that he was wrong. So very wrong.

He noticed that while Marjan was walking with a spring in her step, arms swinging wide around her, he was limping out, holding his shoulder close to his torso after a particularly rough tackle that he didn't defend well enough.

Even now, after he's gotten a quick shower and is getting dressed in the locker room, he's starting to see bruises flourish and darken his skin, each one a testament to something he didn't do right.

Some part of him blames it on his distraction. He wasn’t exactly focused on following the tiniest of details, and maybe he wanted to get bruised and beat up a little. He hasn’t used working out as a way to disguise his emotional distress in quite a few years. And yet, as he pokes one particularly visible bruise, the blood starting to pool in distinct dark discolouration spreading across the lower edge of his ribs, he can’t help but think that his distraction wasn’t at fault here, and he’s just fallen back into older less-than-ideal coping mechanisms.

With a groan, he finishes dressing up, grabs his bag and makes his way towards the front desk.

Once he has given the locker keys back and received his membership card in return, he's out of the door. He finds himself stopping right in the middle of the parking lot, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. It doesn't fill him up like a breath of fresh air should - not that a parking lot has fresh air to begin with. But while he was expecting some relief, he finds that gets none. His shoulders are still tense, his mood still sour.

Letting out a small sigh and making a quick split second decision, he starts moving to the juice bar at the corner of the street, determined to grab a juice to go and wallow in his misery at home.

It’s a small shack right around the edge of the street that has made a magnificent business out of selling a variety of coffees, juices and post-workout drinks. The place is so tiny, it barely houses any sitting arrangement indoors, which works wonderfully when most of their regulars take their drinks to go anyway. Those who do want to sit for a moment though will find a rather large spread of benches on the terrace. It’s one of Carlos’ favourite places. The fact that it's locally owned makes it all the better.

It's on the terrace that he notices - while waiting for his drink to be prepared - a turban in the very far end of the outdoor sitting area. Immediately, he realises that he knows that turban. He knows the style and colour. Simply because he was just with Marjan. And now she's here, sitting alone, on a bench, staring at the small expanse of greenery and the parking lot ahead of her. His trance is broken when his name is called. Picking up the drink, he looks over and starts to make his way towards his car, only to stop a few steps later.

A frown starts to deepen on his forehead the more he stares at her. All the times he's met her, Marjan has always been a bright entity. Always smiling, eyes glittering with happiness and mischief. And yet as he looks at her now he finds that she seems… dull.

The worry has him abandoning his initial plan and moving towards her instead. He might be in a sad mood, but he'll be damned if that stops him from acting on his concern.

"Got space for one more person?" he asks once he's next to her. His suspicions that her mind is occupied elsewhere are confirmed when she looks up at him with wide, startled eyes. A few moments later - once she realises who is talking to her - she graces him with a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes and a nod of her head.

Still, he takes the permission and plants himself next to her, drink in his hand.

The initial silence is comfortable, aided by the cooling effect that the juice had on his throat and the light breeze on his bruised body. And yet, it's heavy. Marjan is one of the firefighters he hasn't gotten many one-on-one interactions with. She’s a major part of their hangouts, and while they are friendly with one another, he hasn’t had the chance to know her better.

He's standing on uneven and unknown grounds with her. He wants to talk to her, ask if he can help. He just doesn't know how to. But the longer he takes to come up with something, the more awkward the air around them becomes, and the harder it is to speak.

So they sit in silence instead, while Carlos still tries to think of something. How it’s possible that there isn’t a single topic popping in his mind comes as a shock to him.

The silence seems to be choking Marjan as well, because she groans and drops her head into her hands. Carlos looks at her for a moment, before he slides a foot or so across the bench, inching closer to the seemingly troubled woman next to him.

"You okay?" he whispers, hands playing with the straw of his drink. Marjan sighs, so he turns his head to look at her.

She doesn’t look at him. Her head is angled upwards, eyes closed as the wind gently blows on their faces.

"You know, usually I’d talk to Paul, Mateo, or TK,” she whispers so low that Carlos has to lean towards her a little, “hell, maybe even Judd. But they’re just, they mean well. But they also feel the need to give advice and help out. And sometimes, I just want to rant about stuff and listen to them rant. And at the end of the talk, I want to not have a solution for anything."

Carlos hums, pondering over her words for a moment. He knows that the 126 have gotten close - they've been through the wringer one too many times not to be. He's also been in the position where he was the one being given advice. Even when it wasn't solicited.

He knows it's out of good intentions, they want to help, and advice is a way to do that. But so is just listening.

"Well," Carlos starts, placing his drink down on the bench next to him, "I'm here to silently listen if you want."

Marjan flats him with a raised eyebrow, the questioning challenge clear in her eyes. When Carlos doesn't budge, she looks away with a sigh.

"It's a two-way street, man. If I rant, you'll have to rant about whatever put that frown on your face too," she says as she leans back on the bench, stretching her legs ahead of her.

Carlos shoots her a shocked look, not aware that his own bitter feelings had been so clear to an outsider. Marjan seems to read his shock too though, "I could see you brooding from a whole mile away, Carlos," she explains with a shrug of her shoulders.

"Yeah, yeah, let's mend one sad soul at a time," he shrugs at her, waving her worries with a flick of his hands.

Marjan glares at him for a moment. But he’s been around her enough to know that this isn’t one of her judgemental or annoyed glares, this is more of a playful and teasing glare. He replies to it with a wide grin, and she reciprocates with a shake of her head and a soft smile.

“I miss my family,” she says after a sigh, all pretences of strength draining out of her. “I just, every time I think things are good and I start to savour life, something happens with them while I’m here and I start to think I let you down, mama and baba, and I just, I miss them.”

Carlos nods his head in understanding, the feeling somewhat familiar to him. But he doesn't speak, he lets Marjan rant, the way she seems to truly need.

“Like, my parents did raise us to go all out and be independent and live our lives for us,” she says as she gestures ahead of her. “But I guess I also just always thought I’d have them with me while I live life. And now I’m here and I’m on the move, and they’re not, they’re sitting at home catching up on their rest and their health.”

Carlos stays in his place, listening intently to each phrase Marjan is saying. Her words all run across scars he's had to deal with in the past, and they make him yearn for a time when he had his entire family under one roof.

“Did you know that my dad has been diabetic, on insulin, for a year and I had no idea?!” she exclaims, waving her hands around her head. “None at all! I don’t even think he was ever planning to tell me. I just happened to Facetime my mom one day just as he was giving himself an injection in the background.”

She pauses for a moment, dropping her head to rest her chin onto her chest, and Carlos thinks she might have gotten everything off her chest. But he’s proven wrong moments later when she lifts her head.

"And it's not just my parents. My younger sister, Yara, the fifteen-year-old one, she has grown so much during the past year I've been here. And I've missed a lot of what makes her who she is. And now, when I talk to her, there's nothing to talk about. I don't know what she likes and doesn't like, what shows she watches and what foods she enjoys and what career she wants to pursue." She stops for a moment to catch her breath, before she keeps going at it with the same passion as before.

“And my eighteen-year-old brother, Karim? We used to do everything together, he was my best friend when I was younger, and now? We could go for literal weeks without speaking. And I just,” she pauses to sigh, “I just miss the simpler times, you know? Waking up to have breakfast together, going to school, coming back to have lunch together, doing my homework quick and early to watch some dumb show with my entire family while we have dinner together, I just miss them all.”

She stops for a moment, her hands coming to rest in her lap as she whispers, “Is it supposed to look like this?”

This time feels like this is an actual question, rather than a rant, so Carlos turns to Marjan, raising an eyebrow.

“What is it?”

“Adulthood,” she groans, throwing her hands in the sky. “This whole I’m an adult and I need to leave my family and I must transcend the world on my own. I want to live and go through the world and still go back home to them, you know?”

Marjan stops talking for a moment, eyes on Carlos before she frowns and trails her eyes away. Carlos keeps his own gaze on her, waiting as she comes to a conclusion to whatever question is obviously racking her mind.

"Do you?" She asks then.

Carlos has to blink a few times, certain that he missed something.

"Do I what?"

"Do you know what it's like to leave your family? I just realised I have no idea if you have siblings or where your parents are or anything."

"I… Well… I’m the younger one, so my sister left for college first, and she still works far away, so, I guess?" he questions, unsure if his answer is what she was looking for and trying to conceal his pain with confusion.

It seems to work because a wide smile breaks over Marjan's face as she turns to face Carlos completely, bending one leg under her.

"You have a sister?! I never knew!" she exclaims as she does a full one-eighty, going from hurt and frowning to eyes wide with curiosity.

"Yeah, one sister."

Marjan stares at him with wide eyes for a few moments. "And? Tell me about her!" she demands when he doesn't say anything else, making a “go on” gesture with her hand.

An easy smile takes over Carlos' face, even as he breaks eye contact to shake his head in amusement.

"Well, her name is Dora, she's four years older. And she's kinda my favourite person in the world, but don't tell her I said that," he threatens with a pointed finger.

It brings a chuckle out of Marjan, but she still mimics a zipper closing over her lips.

"Dora and Carlos Reyes, huh?"

"Well, kinda. Her full name is Isadora," he explains, continuing when she both frowns in confusion and nods in encouragement. “I saw her wearing a pink shirt one day, and she had a bowl cut like most kids of the early nineties, and my two-year-old self decided that she looked like Dora the Explorer,” he smiles as understanding starts to take over Marjan’s features.

“Isadora in a pink shirt and a bowl cut, it’s only a natural progression that you get to Dora.”

“Exactly!”

Marjan sits back on the bench, a laugh filling the space between them. She pulls to a side and grabs her drink, Carlos copying her when she brings the straw to her mouth. Silence follows as they gulp down their now warm drinks in quick sips, trying to catch up to the last thread of coldness.

This entire situation reminds him of his own self some ten years ago, when Dora first-ever left for college. He remembers how heartbroken he was, how he felt abandoned. He knew she was leaving for her future, and that he would undoubtedly do the same. But his fourteen-year-old self was still extremely offended and hurt, no matter how illogical it was.

“Do you miss her?” Marjan asks just as he realises that she finished her drink first, and has put down the empty cup beside her. “I mean, if she’s four years older, then she graduated at least eight, nine years ago, and she isn’t here, is she?” She asks, continuing when Carlos answers with a shake of his head. “Did it ever feel like she abandoned you?”

Carlos hums for a moment, trying to figure out how he’s supposed to control his emotions when Marjan puts it like that. It doesn’t help that he can’t really tell who she is asking about. But he wants to answer her in a way that’s both honest and gentle.

“Are you asking me about me, or asking me for your siblings?” he asks, figuring he doesn't need to assume when he can get the answer almost instantaneously.

Marjan snorts, shaking her head as she takes a deep breath and lets it out in a slow sigh.

“You’re too smart for your own self, Reyes,” she grumbles before she concedes, “I don’t know. Both, I guess?”

“Well, I can only speak for myself when I say that I did feel abandoned. I was so sad and angry at her that I didn’t really talk to her properly for the first few months, even though she kept trying and calling and adding me on social media," he starts to explain, taking a moment to think of the best phrasing. "Home was her, my dad and I, and when she left, she somehow ruined our home."

He shrugs as he stops, the memories of how hurt he was coming back to him, mixing with how hurt he feels right now.

“But after a while, she just kinda messaged me less, and we weren’t that close-knit unit we were anymore.” He feels the earlier bubble of anger return, but this time at his past self, at how he was so angry that he did things that are just so stupid.

“Yeah, that sounds very familiar right now,” Marjan sighs. "Are you guys in contact now? Or has it been that way ever since?"

"No!" he almost screams in his haste to correct Marjan, the sole idea of being on non-speaking terms with his sister leaving a sour taste in his mouth. "No, no, God,no, we're good now, we're best friends, we're proper close," he assures her, crossing his index and middle finger together.

"So how did you go from not talking for months to being best friends?"

"This is tethering on advice-giving, Marjan," he teases, raising an eyebrow at her and chuckling when she rolls her eyes at him. He can’t help but chuckle at how he seems to be getting the full blast of the Marwani Eye Rolls today.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm done ranting, I'm now asking for advice. I heard you gave Paul amazing words that started his journey with the mystery bar lady, so share that wisdom, Reyes," she huffs in feigned annoyance, much to Carlos' amusement. He knows that Paul has been making progress with Bar-Lady, but he's been keeping it under wraps lest it gets jinxed and falls apart, and Carlos has been respecting his wishes, refusing to say anything about their conversation or the events leading up to Paul approaching her.

Carlos reaches a hand to Marjan, grabbing her cup and getting up to throw the trash into the bin. Even though it's covered as environmental care, it's a way for him to catch his breath and organise his thoughts. And from the soft look Marjan gives him when he turns around, she knows that as well.

Still, she doesn't say a word even when he sits back down, giving him his space as he stretches his legs and finds a comfortable position on the bench. After a couple of minutes of silence, he finally turns to face Marjan.

"So, when my sister left, I was really hurt. Dora and my dad are all I've had, they were my entire world. In my head, she left our family and somehow that meant that it was broken," he begins, recalling how his joy over her getting into her dream college was quickly shattered when he realised how far away she'd be. "And at fourteen, I didn't know how to express that pain, so I just stopped talking to her."

"Now that I'm older, I think that I did that to hurt her back." He remembers when he came to that conclusion many years after the event was done and gone. "I knew how much our relationship meant to her, and I think I wanted her to know how it feels to be left, the same way she left me."

He sneaks a glance at Marjan, finding a guilty frown on her face. He wishes there was an easier way to say what he has to say, but it's one of those things that can't be sugar-coated.

"To be fair to her, she did keep trying. She was always calling and messaging me, asking about school and sports and TV shows. And I was sad and snappy, giving her short replies or single word answers. Sometimes I'd leave her on read just out of spite."

The memories are somewhat fuzzy in his mind, those months something he'd rather forget. But he still remembers how he'd race into his room after school, turn on his computer, open Facebook, read the message, only to exit the website again.

He'd give young Carlos a good slap up the back of the head if he could.

"It wasn't until one day, a couple of weeks before her first spring break, I got home earlier than usual. And I walked into my dad in the kitchen, talking to Dora on speaker. The first thing I had registered was how hurt she sounded," he recalls the absolute agony in her voice, the defeat, the resignation. "I was about to run in, ask what was wrong, when I heard her say I just don't know what to do, Papa, he won't talk to me, and I miss him so much."

He stops for a moment, he needs to, his voice just on the verge of cracking on that last word. It's a stark reminder of the rush of emotions he felt all those years ago, when he first overheard that conversation.

"I think I needed to hear that, though. To hear that she missed me too and to realise how hurt she was by leaving. I pretended I didn't hear anything, and just snuck up to my room. Except that now, I knew exactly how she felt. I knew that she was hurt too, but it didn't feel good. I didn't feel satisfied because she missed me. I just felt like I had lost her."

"A few days later, I went downstairs to my dad, and asked him if Dora would ever forgive me." The mention of his dad forces a smile out of him, and how he was so distressed that he just had to seek his dad's wisdom. "I think he tried to play it subtle at first, asking what I meant. But when he realised how affected I truly was, he quickly laid the truth down for me."

He can tell that Marjan is hanging onto every word he says.

"He told me that Dora laughed every time I hit a milestone and cried every time I got hurt. She wasn't going to hate me just because I didn’t talk to her for a few months. But that didn't mean that I was off the hook. The ball was in the middle of the court, and I had the chance to take the first step to make things right," he shrugs, his dad's words running through his mind again.

His dad was gentle, the way he always had been, but he didn't lie to Carlos either. He made sure that Carlos knew that he was responsible for the hurt both he and Dora were going through. And no matter how he felt at the very beginning, the end result was still pain for both of them.

"So I did. The next time she texted, I replied. And then I called her, and she picked up. And, you know, it took time, but we got there. And now, we're best friends again. We're so close right now that the fact that she hasn't gotten approved for time off has put us both in the worst of bad moods."

Marjan sighs as he comes to a stop, turning around to fiddle with her rings. He thinks that part of it is giving him privacy to get his emotions under control - they both act in the same way in that they aren't overly emotional in front of just anyone, and he doesn't think they're at that level of vulnerability quite yet.

"So," Marjan says after a long moment of silence, "I just need to keep going at it? Keep trying until they see what’s been happening, then we’ll be best friends again, Yara, Karim and I, huh?"

”I mean, I don't know for sure. But yeah, I think so."

"You know," Marjan quips with a frown on her face and what he thinks is the beginning of hope in her eyes, "I think I heard Yara mention Marvel and Iron Man once, and Karim is super into video games these days. I'm no expert in either, but…"

"But interest is the first step. I don't think Dora understood a single word of all the Pokémon talk that I used to tell her, but it got us talking!"

Marjan hums, looking out ahead of her into the parking lot. There isn't something in particular that's worthy of attention, but Carlos finds himself staring at a random tree next to the juice bar.

There's a weirdly placed nest high up on one of the branches, a bird of some kind making trips back and forth between the nest and the street underneath. He's starting to wonder if birds feel sorrow when one of them leaves, when Marjan breaks his non-conventional train of thought.

"Well, that's my family drama," she sighs, turning towards him again, slinging her arm on the backrest and rests her head on top of her hand. "What are we going to do about your sister?"

"I don't know. Suffer in sadness, I guess," Carlos huffs. "There's nothing to be done. Neither one of us is getting approved for time off anytime soon."

The sad smile that Marjan gives him is exactly why he didn't want to meet anyone right after he got the news. The sympathy would only make him feel worse. Though, now that he got the frustration beat out of him, it covers him like a comforting blanket.

"Well, I know no one can replace your sister," Marjan says with a shrug and a suspiciously teasing smile, "but I can be your big sister until you meet her again."

The rapid blinking that Carlos' eyes do on their own accord is probably enough of a reaction, because Marjan stares at him for a few moments and then breaks into laughter, the happiness he's come to associate with the woman finally making itself visible.

"You're, you're younger than me!" he exclaims.

“That just doesn’t sound right, does it now?” Marjan quips, a smirk spreading on her face.

"It's literally a fact!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," she says as she gets up off the bench, hooking an arm around his once Carlos is standing up. "Drive me home, baby brother."

#911 lone star #carlos reyes #marjan marwani #isadora reyes #911 lone star fic #mentioned tk strand #mentioned paul strickland #mentioned owen strand

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southeastasianists · 4 years ago

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A lot has been written about Myanmar since the military takeover in the hours before dawn on Feb. 1. Much of it has been about the violence on the streets, which after a weekend when at least 114 people were shot dead is understandable. But more needs to be said about the reasons for the coup, the historical context for what we see today, and how both affect what is happening in full public view before an increasingly critical global audience.

It is time to tick a few boxes.

The past

The first time an elected government was removed in Myanmar was in 1962 when the Tatmadaw (armed forces) commander, General Ne Win, overthrew Prime Minister U Nu and abolished the 1947 independence constitution. It was an almost bloodless event that at the time many people saw as a logical and not unreasonable reaction to fears of the imminent disintegration of the then Union of Burma.

It was only later that Ne Win’s Revolutionary Council made up entirely of Tatmadaw officers launched what was known as the “Burmese Way to Socialism” and ultimately the end of Burma as a prosperous nation. Socialism was, however, used by Ne Win as the ideological glue binding the Tatmadaw and the civilian bureaucracies.

The evolution of Tatmadaw rule into the “Socialist Republic” in 1974 saw the institution of a one-party state with all significant offices held by the men of the Tatmadaw, who retired from their military command posts to take up parliamentary or other civilian positions.

The second, in 1988, was in part a takeover from itself. The collapse of the Ne Win system that year was accompanied by the promise of constitutional amendments allowing free-and-fair, multi-party elections. This promise was maintained by the new Tatmadaw regime, which styled itself with Orwellian flair as the State Law and Order Restoration Council (SLORC). Headed at first by General Saw Maung, and after 1992 by his deputy General Than Shwe, SLORC abolished the 1974 constitution.

SLORC decided it had restored law and order in 1997 and changed its title and defined purpose to become—with an inspiration that rivals Orwell’s “Ministry of Truth”—the State Peace and Development Council (SPDC). It is tempting to believe that Orwell, who wrote “Burmese Days” in 1934, saw this coming.

The SPDC remained a body formed by, and largely constituted of, Tatmadaw officers. It remained in office until March 2011, when it handed over power to the parliament elected under the 2008 Constitution, a document put to a national referendum by the SPDC and approved through a process widely described as rigged. The SPDC announced 94 percent of voters were in favor.

The 2008 Constitution included provisions that guaranteed Tatmadaw control of all essential state security functions, a quarter of the membership of all elected bodies, and a requirement that any proposal for constitutional amendment obtain three-quarters support in the national parliament—an effective veto over change.

The present

The National League for Democracy (NLD) was founded by Daw Aung San Suu Kyi in September 1988, 10 days after the SLORC seized power but pursuant to the promise of multi-party elections first mooted by Ne Win. Many tribulations befell her in the years that followed, but the NLD remained a registered political party despite persistent harassment of its leadership. The party was ordered to cease political activities in 2004. Daw Aung San Suu Kyi was seen by the Tatmadaw, and the population alike, as the only person with the stature and personality to deprive the military of its control, generating both fear and hope in both camps.

There was, however, a general appreciation of Daw Aung San Suu Kyi as the person most likely to make a difference, and also of her as a person who could achieve change with the support of large sections of the Tatmadaw because of her place in the country’s history—the daughter of independence hero General Aung San. It was because of this strength that she was kept under various forms of house arrest between 1989 and 2010 (with some breaks during which she was able to build the image of the NLD and herself throughout the country).

When she attained power after elections held in 2015, it was clear one of her priorities would be to remove the Tatmadaw’s control of parliaments by virtue of its 25 percent guarantee of the share of seats. Whenever this issue was raised, it was immediately clear the Tatmadaw leaders, especially commander-in-chief Senior General Min Aung Hlaing, would not entertain such a change. However, many others in Myanmar had believed that Snr-Gen Than Shwe’s Constitution was part of a planned transition from military to civilian rule.

The Myanmar general elections in 2015 were the first contested countrywide by the NLD. The result gave the NLD 86 percent of the seats in the national Parliament. This was more than enough for the election, by the Parliament, of the president. As Daw Aung San Suu Kyi had been rendered ineligible to be president by qualifications placed in the Than Shwe Constitution, the Parliament elected the nominee of the NLD at the time, U Htin Kyaw. He retired on health grounds in 2018 and was replaced by NLD nominee U Win Myint.

Approaching tomorrow

Tatmadaw commander-in-chief Snr-Gen Min Aung Hlaing has been in this office since March 2011 and so was present during the three presidencies since the retirement from public life of Snr-Gen Than Shwe. Many Myanmar people, including Tatmadaw officers, were surprised when he was elevated to this position by Snr-Gen Than Shwe, for he had not had a particularly distinguished army career and was promoted above many more senior colleagues.

In that sense, Snr-Gen Min Aung Hlaing was seen as a parallel to an earlier president, U Thein Sein, who was elevated by Snr-Gen Than Shwe and served between 2011 and 2016, despite there being others seen as more senior and deserving.

U Thein Sein quickly became a president who seemed to have the public’s interests at heart and was known for his instruction in 2011 to parliamentarians to go to their constituencies, meet the people, understand their problems, and bring them to the capital for solution. Nobody had ever done that before.

Snr-Gen Min Aung Hlaing, on the other hand, was widely rumored to have engaged in corrupt activities through ownership of shares in companies run by the military. Despite some efforts to meet a wider range of people than is normal for Tatmadaw commanders, he never won public admiration or trust.

The NLD won a stunning victory in the elections on Nov. 8 last year, when it improved on its 2015 numbers. There was a widespread expectation the NLD would lose some seats in ethnic regions, but would hold its numbers in the Bamar (ethnic Burmese) heartland. The elections were observed by respected international observers (such as the Asian Network for Free Elections and the Carter Center) as well as 13 accredited domestic groups. All found the procedures on election day stood the test of fairness.

When results started coming in, the first murmurings of dissatisfaction emerged from the Tatmadaw, matching protests lodged with the Election Commission by the pro-military Union Solidarity and Development Party (USDP). Nobody took the complaints seriously, and the country began to prepare for a peaceful transfer of power.

It was striking at the time to see how similar some of the protests were to those lodged in the US by people alleging voter fraud and other irregularities, and perhaps that dulled the impression that the protests should have generated. When challenged about the Tatmadaw’s intentions, and whether it would allow a peaceful transfer of power, the Tatmadaw spokesman played down the questions. It was not until a couple of days before the newly elected parliament was to meet for its swearing-in ceremony that anyone started to think that the ceremony might not take place.

Why Feb. 1?

At this point it’s necessary to note that the elections took place under Snr-Gen Than Shwe’s 2008 Constitution, held up by the Tatmadaw as the way forward. Had the new Parliament been sworn in as scheduled at 10 a.m. on Feb. 1, it would have had a five-year term ahead of it, under the Constitution.

It would have had the authority to choose the president and it would have been responsible for choosing the next Tatmadaw commander-in-chief when Snr-Gen Min Aung Hlaing compulsorily retired on July 3—his 65th birthday.

As banal as this sounds, Snr-Gen Min Aung Hlaing’s personal expectations stand out as the core element in the takeover and its date. It is widely believed he aspired to the national presidency himself, but the size of the NLD victory dashed that hope, and also introduced the real possibility that antipathy to the Tatmadaw everywhere in the country would permit Daw Aung San Suu Kyi to mobilize the people for constitutional change aimed at reducing Tatmadaw influence.

There are plenty of signs that most of the people were looking forward to the swearing-in of the new Parliament, and few signs that the Tatmadaw or the police were preparing for anything else. When the army and police struck, there were no signs of much preparation. People detained were at home or asleep, and they were not taken off to detention sites for some time, sometimes for days or longer. There were no measures in place to lock down communications or take any action for public control. There was no immediate release of legal language to justify what was being done.

In other words, although some close observers did say they had picked up noises that the Tatmadaw might move before the Parliament was sworn in, very few of those in power, including in the NLD, saw it coming. Snr-Gen Min Aung Hlaing would have anticipated no serious resistance.

Afterwards

The situation which confronted Snr-Gen Min Aung Hlaing and his self-appointed State Administrative Council was the appearance on the streets, day and night, of millions—yes, millions—of Myanmar citizens demanding respect for the Nov. 8 elections and the resumption of democratic government.

Now, almost two months later, the demonstrations continue, undeterred by extreme violence. They are everywhere in the country, from the big cities to the villages and involve people of all ethnicities, religions, cultures, genders and age groups. Age is a special consideration, for the demonstrators include the bulk of the country’s youth, most born and raised after Gen. Saw Maung’s takeover in 1988 and virtually all, thanks to President U Thein Sein, fully internet-literate.

Internet literacy enables the population, led by the youth, to communicate with each other, and with their colleagues and friends outside Myanmar. This has produced a great deal of public pressure from outside the country, and while most of the Tatmadaw have not traveled widely, nearly all of them have relatives who have. There is much more knowledge of the outside world now than in 1988, and the lessons which Snr-Gen Min Aung Hlaing would have learned as a young man would no longer fit to the world he inhabits now.

Tomorrow

The indications from yesterday and today say that this is where astrologers (very popular in Myanmar) would be looking:

#Southeast Asia #Burma #Myanmar #Military Junta #Military Coup

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dearmrsawyer · 4 years ago

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well IT WAS A YEAR. it was also emotionally two weeks and five years? lol. its been a lot, but there were some real positives from this year that i wanna reflect on just because! they’re nice to think about!!

i’d love to know if any of you have any positive things from your year that you’d like to reflect on. accepting asks where we can celebrate your little wins too :)

in general i’m just quite proud of myself for how i’ve managed the library this year, given that its just me. its been hard feeling more disconnected from our students, and also trying to provide them with support that can reach across the void created by distance learning. it wasn’t 100% successful all the time! but it can’t be, and i never aimed for that. i just did everything that i felt i could reasonably do as a single individual, and i think i did my best! i spent a lot of this year driving out to post books to our students, or meeting them at convenient locations to do book swaps, and i’ve spent a lot of time coaching academics through online systems over zoom so that they could effectively teach their subjects, and i’ve spent a lot of nights and weekends prepping materials that needed to be made available to students ahead of class, because our academic staff weren’t able to finish them while i was still on the clock (i’m def not trying to @ our academics here! they’ve been delivering material late all year bc of how much extra work they’ve had to take on too! its just the roll on effect bc i’m the last link in the chain). i’ve felt a huge sense of camaraderie with many of my colleagues this year, and am grateful i had them to make this work year more manageable. but i know i’ve been doing a lot of hidden work and i think i did well :)

oh man i loved turning off my wake up alarm in march and never turning it on again!!!! I think i can count the number of times i’ve had to use my alarm on one hand, and they were mostly dr appointments. it feels so comfortable to wake up when my body decides, whether its 6am or after i should already be working LOL. there have definitely been ebbs and flows to how well i’ve slept throughout the year, sometimes i know exactly what’s affecting my sleep and sometimes i have no idea, but regardless, the absence of an impending alarm has been such a nice way to compensate for.. everything else lol

i started growing vegetables!!!!!! I spent a week in March digging out a patch of my yard, and then the next month or two growing seedlings, and i successfully grew snow peas, silverbeet, beetroot and lettuce :D i also added dill to my herb garden, and successfully propagated thyme and lemongrass! i did attempt a few other vegetables that didn’t pan out, mostly because snails kept eating my seedlings jkjdgkj but it was so exciting to successfully grow something that i could then EAT! and i’ve also been able to figure out which vegetables i consider more convenient to grow, for example buying leafy greens can be super inconvenient bc i find its often impossible to use them all before they go bad. they sell greens in such ridiculously large bunches! but growing them myself, i can go out and pick however many leaves i want, and the rest won’t go bad because they’re still on the plant! i also started to stagger how many seeds i wanted to grow which meant they weren’t all maturing at the same time, and i didn’t need to use them all at the same time.

Supernatural finished this year which was NOT a highlight 😭 but it was originally scheduled to finish in May, and i was given the gift of 6 whole extra months to live with this show as a work in progress. as much as i still wasn’t ready to say goodbye in November (would i have ever been ready), i was given so much unexpected extra time to appreciate being IN it while it was still going. i spent so much of this year reflecting on how big a part of my life this show has been, and how much its given me and shaped me. from the ages of 14 to 29 i was able to live with this show as a close friend, and i’ve never taken that for granted, but i am so thankful for the extra time i was given to reflect and appreciate it even more deeply. also supplementary highlight is how much that ending meant to me <3 the world can think whatever it wants but i was on that journey for 15 years, i was there for every episode, never falling behind or taking a break, and that ending honoured the story i watched, and i am very grateful that the pain of it ending was cushioned by the sense of peace and fulfilment that ending gave me.

i finally found hair products that WORK!!!!! i’ve had the same hair routine for like a decade (basically sans products) and i thought i should use this extended period of time where i exist unobserved to experiment. i’ve never really bought hair products for myself, i’ve always inherited them from my mum bc she always had a surplus of products she’s collected over the years. our hair couldn’t be more different so i’ve never experienced a product that was particularly effective LOL. i have v dry hair that’s naturally curly/wavy but extremely frizzy, and i have soo much of it!! so many hairs on my head! my mission was to find a way to let it dry naturally without all that frizz popping up, and without having to dry it in two big twists. the only products directed at curly hair that i’ve ever been aware of is mousse, which used to give people that crunchy look that i can’t staaaaaand but i’ve spent a few months buying quite a lot of products and testing them out one after another, and i’ve found a couple that i absolutely LOVE!! this is big for me bc i always structured my week around when i wash my hair (the day of and day after i’m unavailable lol). i’ll still have to structure my time around it somewhat bc it takes so so long to dry, but its going to be less of a drama if i have to do things when its not completely dry yet, and also i just feel like i’m finally getting to let my hair do its own thing without it stabbing me in the back 😂

i think that human connection has probably been more important this year than ever before, and i’ve often felt like maintaining connections requires energy i just haven’t had for a lot of this year. but i also feel like i have been very connected? i feel like i put in the work. my best friend and i shared a few phone calls this year even though neither of us have ever really been big on phone calls (neither of us have ever talked with people on the phone much in our lives lol). i’ve skyped with my Norwegian friend Ellen almost every month this year!! my friend Bel and i started exchanging sporadic voice messages again, which i’ve just loved. i’ve video chatted with Steph even though it was a scary new venture! and it was so amazing! i do feel like i’ve had less interaction with people on my dash this year, but i feel like working from home has changed the ebbs and flows of my energy throughout the day sooo much, and i just haven’t been online as much when other people are, but i’ve spent a lot of time connecting with people over whatsapp! when it comes to family, being around my grandparents was really really stressful for the first half of the year, but as the situation in Australia eased we relaxed enough that we were comfortable to spend time with them without our masks (plus we weren’t seeing anyone else lol). and i was able to make myself available to them more often while working from home, since i live only a minute away! we stopped having our big family lunches until September, and when we were finally able to get back together we enjoyed each other’s company so much. so while i haven’t been face to face with people on a daily basis, i don’t think i’m any less connected to the people that matter than i was a year ago.

#not thinking about next year yet! i'll probably do that in a few weeks towards the end of my holiday #tp

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welcometoitalia · 6 years ago

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21 Cultural Pointers about Life in Italy

1) TIME: Kick off your shoes, throw away your watch... everything is relative. Whilst much has improved in recent years, trains, buses and people tend to work on an "approximate" timetable. Learn patience and go with the flow.

2) LANGUAGE: Other than in Northern Europe, English is not as widely learnt and used in Italy. Until recently, French was promoted above English. Italians suffer from a sort of language inferiority complex so that even those who do speak good English are convinced that they do not and therefore only speak when absolutely necessary. A common mistake in listening to an Italian speaking his mother tongue is to assume that they are angry or excited. This is not always the case as you may witness in seeing two Italians "argue" and then kiss each other on both cheeks and disappear for an Aperitivo (pre-dinner drink).

3) NATIONALISM: As reflected in regional dialects, modern Italy was actually only unified in the mid 1800's. Still today, great divisions exist between North and South. This means that culture, traditions and life style vary significantly between the various provinces. True allegiance is to the local town or province and less to Italy as a whole. If you want to compliment an Italian, remark kindly on his home town.

4) POLITICS: Often called "the Politics of Favors", politicians don't fade away, they just become prime minister for the 10th time! Bringing down Government is a national pastime, averaging nearly one government for every year since World War 2. Reflecting the national divide, Italy has a strong ex-communist and a strong ex-fascist block. Most Italians believe the country is successful despite the best efforts of the government; tax avoidance is another national obsession. One of Italy's stronger parties is dedicated to the break up of Italy. Lega Nord (Free the North) has a passionate following - in the north! To mis-quote Beppe Grillo, a famous Italian commentator: “One Italian makes a Latin lover, two together can never agree, whilst three make up four political parties.”

5) DRINK: Italian bars often double up as coffee shops as there is a much more limited drinking culture than in other European locales. Italians on the whole do not have a "drinking culture"; many bars reflect this less intense relationship with alcohol, although the club scene is more "traditional" in its appeal. Wine is often less expensive than bottled water and whilst a staple feature of Italian meals, it is very rarely drunk to excess.

6) FAMILIES: Careful of stereotypes but, whilst waning, the family is central to everything and all. It is normal for unmarried children to live at home, even if they are in their 30's and 40's. Children move away... to the house next door! ;) ... and shouting between balconies to borrow some sugar is common. The grandmother plays the role of matriarch and family members like to turn up for a meal and are gladly received.

7) RELIGION: Catholic, of course (about 90%). Strangely though, Italy now has one of the lowest birth rates in Europe, So called Mafia bosses may fastidiously attend church on Sunday and married Catholic men may happily have an “amante” (lover). Many Catholics are uncertain if they are Christians as well as Catholic, such is the hold and “brand” strength of the Catholic church. Church attendances are, however, in decline and the number of new priests has declined by 85% in the last 50 years.

8) SPORT: One thing all Italians agree on is the national football/soccer team, often referred to as Italy's "true" religion. When Italy won the World Cup, people took to the streets in their cars, blowing horns, standing on car roofs and the entire nations transport system ground to a halt for hours as Italians demonstrated their passion for the game. Other sports take a back seat although cycling, volleyball, skiing and Formula One have their place on the front pages. One of the largest selling national newspapers is entirely dedicated to sport (LaGazetta dello sport).

9) WORLD AFFAIRS: Not our affair... so who cares, right?

10) FOREIGNERS: In most cases are greeted with enthusiasm and delight, although heavy non-European immigration has started to create phobia and resentment of the non European invasion in recent years.

11) FOOD: Italians are passionate about... Italian food! So much so that even when abroad, many Italians will go out of their way to seek out the nearest Italian restaurant. Each region of Italy has its own "local dish" and each dish may be prepared in a different way according to local custom. A wedding meal may last more than 6 hours and feature up to 20 courses. Such is the strength of Italian food that finding a Chinese, Mexican, or other type of restaurant outside the big towns is a challenge.

12) DRIVING: The Italian zest for life is well reflected in the Italian driving style! Cars are viewed as a status symbol; Italy has one of the highest percentages of Mercedes owners in the world. Speed limits, like train schedules, are considered approximations. Recent clamp downs and a new point system is beginning to dampen this zest and the best advise for foreign drivers is not to panic if a car cuts in, speeds by, or tailgates you. Don't worry, they have had lots of practice and are very good at it!

13) QUEING: Or lines. Until recently, the concept was an enigma for Italians. The advent of supermarket deli ticket lines and other such devices are being readily adopted and even when no line exists, Italians appear to have an uncanny sense of when it's their turn.

14) GREETING: Even vaguely familiar acquaintances will kiss each other on each cheek, but a hand shake will suffice. “Buongiorno” (formal) and “Ciao” (informal) being the classic accompaniment, followed by "come stai?" - the (informal) “how are you?”. In English-speaking countries, it's normal to reply "fine, thank you" even if you feel awful, in Italy they may well tell you how they actually are! Failure to greet or say goodbye to somebody can be taken as an insult.

15) FASHION: Italians will generally conform to the latest fashion trends, colors and styles, indeed foreigners can easily be spotted, even in a crowd, as they often do not conform to this hidden code. Italians take pride in their dress and are much more brand-conscious than some other nationalities.

16) BUSINESS: Italians prefer to do business with those they know and trust (hence, the relatively low success of Internet companies). Unlike some other industrialized powers, the back bone of the Italian economy is based on people, not multinationals. This is reflected in the proportionally high level of family businesses. Even large Italian businesses are often originated, directed or owned by a family (Benetton, Fiat etc). The local family shop concept still prevails, even though supermarkets are beginning to change the fabric of shopping.

17) PLANNING: Whilst many Northern Europeans are busy planning their next summer holiday in September the year before, summer holiday catalogs in Italy are not even printed till March! Planning ahead is considered restrictive and often Italians will decide what to do for the weekend on Saturday morning. Don't try and force Italians to plan, or expect next seasons bus timetable to be published months before.

18) EUROPEAN: Italy is a great believer in “voting European”, agreeing to many issues and then simply not implementing the directive. Italians themselves see Europe as an escape clause from their own government's perceived incompetence and corruption, however when put to the test, Italians in reality dislike anybody who tells them how to live their lives. Most Italians were enthusiastic about the Euro, until they found that most shop keepers used it to increase prices twofold.

19) HUMOR: Warning: “Sarcasm is not defined”. Do not try sarcastic or ironic jokes on Italians, many will think you are serious. Humor is a lot more lighthearted and obvious (Benny Hill was a big hit) and Italians are not afraid to make fun of themselves. The famous Oscar-winning actor and comic Roberto Benigni once remarked: “If the Berlin wall had been built by Italians, it would have come down on its own.” The prime-time nightly comedy program “Striscia la Notizia” goes out of its way to poke holes and find humor in Italian news and politics. Few Italian comedies work well when translated but have an avid following in Italy itself.

20) TELEVISION: Italians love game shows and reality TV (Big Brother is a yearly event). Like Italian fashion, brand names are important. The host's "brand" is critical and what he or she wears is critically examined. Nearly all shows feature "dancers or assistents", nearly always women, and nearly always clad in mini skirts and revealing tops. Where other countries would cry foul, Italians revel in the female form and are happy to have it presented to them as often as possible, even when totally irrelevant to the show.

21) HOTELS: Contrary to popular belief there is no unified star rating system in Europe. Each country provides its own system. A hotel's ambience is not assessed in any system, only facilities. In Italy, a 3-star hotel will have a restaurant, on-suite bathroom, bar, and lounge area. Room sizes in Italy are below the European average, mainly because many hotels are converted residences. Most hotels are family-run with attentive, very friendly service and homecooked meals. It is not unusual for the grandparents to take over responsibilites when the owner is away or to be greeted during school holidays by the 14 year old son (who probably speaks better English than the parents). This family atmosphere is one of the charms of smaller Italian hotels.

Oh, and one last warning: be careful of the stereotypes. Whilst you can always draw a thread (or even a rope) of similarity (as above) between the nationals of a country, the extent and size of the thread can vary.

Edited and adjusted from an article by A. Reed, a Brit in Brescia, Italy

#italians #europe #europeans #culture #culture clash #stereotypes #customs #italy #italia #humor #politics #food

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heyamandahey · 5 years ago

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Remission to Mars

December 30, 2019

It can feel so trite to see another yearly round-up as 2019 comes to a close, and a new decade lies ahead. On the other hand, this isn't exactly my Spotify year-in-review, and considering I likely would not have celebrated my 34th birthday this summer had I continued to ignore my symptoms, I am doing a monthly highlights recap because I am alive to do it. My personal growth does not end at age thirty-three.

January — No noticeable breathing issues, but I do notice every backbend in yoga has been making me cough. I feel like it's been like this for the last few months. As an aside, I ask Gavin to be my boyfriend. He agrees!

February — I am sniffling essentially around the clock, but I presume this pesky symptom will go away. Gavin tells me he “doesn’t want to mess this up.” I meet up with some friends in Berlin over Presidents Day weekend.

March — One of my best friends, Samantha, gets married in Florida. I feel like my neck has aged two decades overnight from the sudden puffiness. I guess that anti-wrinkle cream doesn’t work. I regret choosing a strapless dress. As one of the bridesmaids, I am blowing my nose regularly from what feels like a post-nasal drip and insist to everyone I am not sick, despite coughing every four minutes.

April — It is getting difficult to breathe normally at night unless I am on my side. Inhaling steam and taking OTC meds are no longer sufficient. An x-ray leads to a CT scan to the ER and ICU. Later that month, I would meet Gavin's parents at his thesis presentation, and he would tell me he missed me.

May — My parents come to stay with me for nearly the entire month. After two biopsy procedures, I receive an official diagnosis for what all the medical professionals had suspected from the very beginning: mediastinal lymphoma or PMBCL. We delay starting chemo by a week, so I can attend my older brother's wedding in California, held the same night as the Game of Thrones series finale. That made it into my little brother’s best man speech, haha.

June — I start birth control and complete two rounds of chemotherapy. My hands fumble and drop an inordinate number of objects from the neuropathy, including my phone. My hair falls out even faster than expected, so we have a head shaving party. I am really so lucky to have such supportive friends and family through this entire process. Gavin indirectly tells me he loves me.

July — After my third round of chemotherapy, I am officially halfway done with treatment! Gavin breaks up with me very suddenly. I am devastated and confused. My magnificent friends and family continue to support me for a very different reason now. I see a therapist for the first time.

August — My little brother comes up to visit me for a few days over my birthday. I am very happy he's here to celebrate with me; we normally only see each other in the winter months.

September — My last round of chemo! I declare mouth sores to be the worst part of the entire treatment. Outside of that, one of my cousins gets married in San Francisco, which also gives me an opportunity to see my older brother. Beyond family trips, I speak with a third therapist. On our second appointment, she sees no need for me to come back.

October — I finally get the PICC line removed and am officially in the clear! A good friend and I embark on a weekend yoga retreat, and at long last I am able to unfreeze my gym membership.

November — A couple girls and I travel to Seoul, South Korea, for vacation. We had been planning it long before even my diagnosis, but it feels like there's so much to celebrate on this trip. Even if I am currently hairless and boyfriend-less, I know both states will be temporary.

December — All of my neuropathy is gone! I have been going to the gym three to five times a week, sometimes taking two classes in a row. My hair is growing back, and even my dad encouraged me to leave the house without a wig. What a way to speak familial love without using the three words.

What lies ahead now?

A routine CT scan has been scheduled for mid-January. I can't remember with 100% certainty if scans are to be done every six months or so for the next two years, but I believe I read something along those lines.

I still have four scars from my second biospy. Despite using lightening creams, it’s been slow to see much progress. I am considering getting a tattoo to cover it all up, and since I have never taken the time to get one, that would also serve as a new experience.

Despite all the awful things happening all around the globe and my propensity to brood over problems large and small, I am choosing to remain carefully optimistic and looking ahead toward a fresh start. As they say, change is the only constant. While good things may not last forever, neither do the bad.

___

#remission #pmcl #lymphoma #mediastinal lymphoma #new year #2019 #december 2019 #nye 2019 #nye #cancer survivor

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madcapmoon · 6 years ago

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MacKayes are woven together, through punk rock and beyond

Alec, Amanda and Ian MacKaye, exclusive 2019 photo by Allen Beland.

By Andy

Sunday, March 10, 2019 With dad taking his spot, front and center at the stove, the MacKaye family dinner is a vital Sunday fixture in their schedules in the Washington, DC, area. Whipping up vegan delights, the elder MacKaye is a culinary threat as he grips onto cooking utensils instead of a microphone or guitar that his children -- Ian, Alec and Amanda -- have wielded during their time on stage with their various bands over the years. This is where the MacKayes thrive, as a family, more than they do anywhere else in their lives. "For us, the MacKayes, we all still hang out with each other," said Amanda, 49. "It wasn't temporary. A lot of people when they get to this stage of life, their siblings are far-flung or they don't really get along with their siblings or whatever. A lot of this is just part of who our family is, we have Sunday dinners, we're together. We have one sister who lives on the other side of the country, but we're all still connected. And we're all still into whatever the other one is doing. We're all still pretty interested in each other." Currently, Ian, Alec, older sister Katie and their dad Bill all live in DC; Amanda (the youngest) resides in nearby Arlington, Va.; and another older sister Susannah calls Oakland, Ca., her home. Ian said it was a treat to have Susannah back on her home turf of DC this weekend to celebrate her birthday. Ian, 56, noted that his parents were only children, so the MacKaye siblings grew up without any uncles, aunts or cousins. They learned from and inspired each other along their life paths, which eventually led them toward punk rock and embracing the idea of residing outside of the mainstream. He laughs about the MacKayes being a weird family that way. They're close-knit to the core. "We are the MacKayes. Especially our mom, she really emphasized, we are a family," said Ian of mother Ginger, who passed away in 2004. "We're fifth-generation Washingtonians. My mom was born here and it was just important to her this idea of being Washingtonian. I think we're just committed to each other. We're a family and there's times where people get steamed with each other about something, but we never have like the awkward Thanksgiving nonsense. But partially because we see each other almost every Sunday for dinner anyway." If the conversation roams toward music at the family meal, Katie can certainly chime in about taking Ian to his first concert, featuring Queen and Thin Lizzy in 1977. Ian noted that Katie always possessed cool records and was ahead of her peers in the music game. She wasn't a punk, but was a proponent of going to see live music of all sorts, including arena-rock bands and tunes with a faster bent like witnessing the Ramones with Ian in 1979. Katie still attends gigs, and aside from venturing into the music scene, she's voyaged across the country twice on her bike. She's a badass, Ian said. Alec, 52, remembers Katie toting a clutch of records back from England around Christmastime in the late '70s. Generation X, Eddie and the Hot Rods, the Damned and a 10-inch sampler featuring X-Ray Spex were soon blasting throughout the household. "The moment I heard it, I was just clocked in. It was the best thing I had ever heard," Alec said. Ian was a self-proclaimed Ted Nugent "Double Live Gonzo" devotee before latching onto punk music a few months before Alec in '79 or so, thanks to his high school friend Bert Queiroz lending him some Sex Pistols, Damned, Clash and Tuff Darts records. "I had to really get in on it and think about it 'cause I was so puzzled by the whole thing. But I gotta say, it clicked and I was like, 'Oh, I'm in, I love this stuff,'" said Ian, who remembers debating with kids in high school about whether punk sucked or not. When Ian cut his hair, he recalls rocker Alec and his friends teasing him about the new look. Soon, Ian and Alec would be a punk duo, delving into the music together, attending gigs in DC and performing in bands like the Slinkees, Teen Idles, Untouchables, Faith, Minor Threat and more. Further down the road, Embrace, Ignition and Fugazi would continue to put the MacKayes and DC on the map.

Little sister Amanda got in on the punk action as well. It wasn't just the music that spoke to the MacKayes, it was the surroundings that punk offered and a way for them to click with family and the other like-minded people they encountered. Amanda's entrance onto the scene occurred at age 9 and was captured in a classic photo of her and Katie watching the Slinkees play a garage gig in August of '79. Amanda laughs when the photo, featured in the book "Dance of Days," is mentioned. "It was like a lightning-bolt moment for me. The funniest part of the memory for me is that Kim Kane of Slickee Boys, he was just so kind, he is so bright in my memory of that show. It's just interesting to think about the fact that of all the things to remember about that moment, it is someone I wasn't even related to," she said.

A young Amanda, center, with Katie behind. From "Dance of Days."

While she doesn't remember any of the music, "I remember, and this is probably sort of like the core of my feeling about punk, is I just remember the freedom and the intimacy. I think I was wearing a Johnny Rotten button, but it was a homemade one that Ian or Alec had made. You're in a garage, there's not like a real stage, just running around with people I didn't know who were happy to see me. We're all just there and there's like this joy, which is what I think of, that sensation is what sort of propels me in every aspect of my personal definition of punk. It's wrapped with this joy." For Alec, dipping his boots into shows in the punk realm marked both an advancement into his formative teen years and a punch of chaos into his musical tastes. "I think I liked the intimacy of it all. Before that, I had just been to see arena rock, some of the huge bands like Queen and Santana and large-scale things. Then going to smaller shows was really the ticket for me -- it still is," said Alec, who mentioned attending small shows by Bad Brains, Slickee Boys, Tru Fax and the Insaniacs at first, and bigger ones with the Cramps, Damned, Clash and B-52s. The energy of those shows was infectious. "I really was digging on that abandon, you could really lose yourself in the music. Everybody else was on the same page and it didn't seem like it was very well-controlled and that part was super exciting for me. That was what I was responding to right away," Alec said. Alec began his punk transformation on the clothes and hair front in middle school and said that people thought he was a nerd or a freak. At age 14 and now in high school, he joined his first band, the Untouchables. He's still singing today with Hammered Hulls and Ian plans on taking them into the studio soon. On initially getting up on stage, shouting out lyrics and bouncing his body all over the place, Alec said, "I was pretty introverted before that, and I still am in a certain sense, but I also became an extrovert by being in a band and not being afraid to be standing on stage and doing things that a lot of people would not be up for. I was up for it, 'cause it gave me license to act out in ways that were just fun. So that was a big change for me. With punk rock, it felt like I had a new persona and had a little bit more vigor." Ian's mind was blown when he saw the Cramps play in DC in '79. It was his first punk show and was a seminal event for the area's punks. "I thought it was incredible. The first show was the Cramps and that was complete chaos and really, really exciting and so dangerous feeling and terrifying," he said. "At that point, I had seen Queen twice and Nugent three times, and they were all arena shows, so my relationship with music was really, when you saw bands, you saw them in that kind of setting, and bands were, as you know, unapproachable in that setting." The Cramps show in a hall at Georgetown University was wall-to-wall packed with punks. And it was nuts. "(The Cramps) were so in your face and everybody was really losing their shit. People were jumping up and down," said Ian, noting that as the sold-out show progressed, the long tables that people were standing on soon began to break and he could see "human formations descending into the crowd." People also were seen squeezing through transom-style windows to get into the fray. "Punk was wide open, and I just wanted to get in," Ian said. "It was instantly just on, so I felt it was great. Super engaging. It was like you're walking down the street and you find a box, and you go, 'That's an interesting box,' and you bring it home and when you open it, it's a box of infinite learning -- and I'm still learning." "Some people in the world think of life in terms of phases and then there's other people who think of it in terms of flights of stairs, and that's I think where we're at," he added about the MacKayes. Ian's still got the Evens, a two-piece with him on guitar/vocals and his spouse Amy Farina on drums, in the back pocket but they haven't been active lately. Another band with Joe Lally on bass, Farina on drums and Ian on guitar/vocals is nameless at this point and they have a record in the bag and awaiting a future release. They played two gigs last November, but the band is on hold until Lally returns from tour with the Messthetics, which also features former Fugazi drummer Brendan Canty.

Ignition

For Ian, after the seeing the Cramps, he felt that what they were doing was pretty straight forward and so he got the Slinkees happening. "I wanna be in a band, I just wanted to play music. I wasn't then and I still don't think of it as a career. To me, I just wanna play music. I just do the do, I just work with what's in front of me," he said. That Slinkees garage show, with his family members in the crowd, kicked things off and the MacKayes have never stopped. The punk ethos still rings true. The idle teens are adults with children and they continue to make an impact in the music world and on the people they encounter in their day-to-day lives. Their family is your family. We're all in it together. "I honestly wasn't thinking about sort of the juxtaposition of me as an audience member or me as a performer because that's kind of the point, they're not that different. We're making a show together, that's what we're doing, the audience and the bands," Ian said. Alec knew he would be a punk-rock lifer from the get-go. "I gotta say that there never was even a doubt in my mind. I have known people in my life that, 'that's a closed chapter,' they move on, they grow up, they put away childish things or whatever. I think when I got into punk rock, in my head it was a forever thing that I would be 120, if I ever live that long, and still be doing it, on some level, I just didn't know how," he said. "So that's been a thing that as you go through life, navigating how you can still relate to it and how it can work in your life. It just stayed with me, I never stopped listening to music and I like the energy." "It's a feeling and it's real as they say, as I said in a previous band," laughed Alec, who works full time in an art museum and thrives on learning about history, philosophy and cultural things. He also gets to travel the world, and recently attended a hardcore show in Tokyo while his art colleagues took in different sights. Some things never change, right? Keep your key in the ignition of life and go wherever the fuck you want. "It's astonishing to me that when I was in Tokyo, there was a flier for a Faith/Void re-release. To me, it's been almost 40 years of doing stuff and it just keeps going," Alec continued. On a recent day, I walked into a Barnes & Noble and saw a Minor Threat record with the first two EPs at the front of the M rack. Alec sits on the cover with his head buried in his arms. It's an iconic image that I first witnessed when I purchased the original red 7-inch at Zed Records in Long Beach, Ca., in 1981.

Alec said that someone recently showed him a photo of that image emblazoned on someone's back as a tattoo. "That particular image is not me, it's anybody. That's the one that the everyman punker can relate to. Yes, it's a trip to see that everywhere still. It's really got legs," he said. Like a lot of us who got into the punk scene back in the early '80s, those early MacKaye bands had a major impact on Amanda. As a youngster, she had those tunes at her fingertips, literally right when the tapes came hot from the studio into their home music deck. Lives were changed when the play button was pressed. "They were my older brothers and I already looked up to them and tried to do whatever they were doing. I found the whole thing instantly exciting. The energy of it was just hypnotic for me and I immediately sort of gravitated to it," Amanda said. "My parents played a lot of records and my mom played piano. There was other music, we didn't really listen to mainstream radio that much. I definitely was aware of 'mainstream rock,' but really at a very early age, like 10-11-12, I was in a conflict with my peer group because I was listening to Minor Threat and they were listening to (mainstream music)." "Some of the general-population music stuck with me, but mostly I was sort of in an instant weirdo zone because when I was trying to get people to listen to my Walkman, it was Minor Threat and they were like, 'Eww. Why?'" she added with a laugh. "Some of the 'why?' for me was that I was totally awestruck by my brothers and I was super proud of them and wanted to tell everyone like, 'No. No. No. I'm related to these people.'" Like family members do, the self-proclaimed tomboy gravitated toward whatever Ian and Alec got their hands on: football and baseball cards and muscle-car Hot Wheels because Alec made models of those vehicles. Amanda, who these days works at a public high school with her husband, said that as a child, "I think that I always sort of felt like outside the circle. I felt like our family just didn't look like everybody else's family, we did things that were a little bit different." She tried to fit in with the other kids by playing soccer in elementary school, but she was admittedly a terrible player and hated the experience. Kids were mean to boot. "I couldn't wrap myself into it and maybe that added into why when I saw this group of people in this garage, who were like, 'Oh, hey, you're outside just like us,' maybe that's why it felt so good," she said of the Slinkees gig. "I'm still attracted to that warm embrace that punk rock gave to me as a young child. I love it when I find bands that are just warm from the get-go. You meet them and you feel like you've known them for a long time, or they play music and you just feel like, 'Oh, yeah, this feels right.'" Following in her brothers' footsteps, she formed her first band, The Headaches, as a pre-teen and they performed in living rooms. A quick insight into the experience was their theme song was ripped off from The Monkees and they had personas (she was the tough, cool person who looked like one of the Blues Brothers). Her punk path became more serious when she formed Sammich Records in high school and released an EP by her friends Lunchmeat and Mission Impossible and then many more records to follow. Ian helped her configure the label since he had experience on his side with Dischord rolling strong (Amanda and Alec also worked at Dischord for a awhile). At age 20, she began singing in Desiderata and later performed with the Routineers.

For the last 14 years, Amanda has booked shows at Fort Reno Park in DC, the spot where the MacKayes saw some of their first concerts. She likens the free outdoor shows to an incubator for bands to give it a shot and play out. She's received feedback that people are thankful their kids can see them play and see music and be able to expose their kids to something that drives them forward, she said. "I jokingly refer to it all the time as a labor of love. But it's actually much more serious for me than that, because at this point in the music industry or however you want to discuss it, the opportunity for people under the age of 21 or even 18 to see live music un-influenced by anything else is very rare in this area. It's like a dinosaur. I feel extremely emotionally bound to do this because that's what helps me sort of dial in on what was important to me," said Amanda, adding that most venues -- aside from art spaces -- serve alcohol and have video or pinball games that infringe on the true musicality of the shows. "It's really really hard to find a pure experience where you're seeing music and that's all you're seeing. You're with your friends or your family or just with like-minded people. So, I'm pretty impassioned about keeping it going," she said of the Fort Reno gigs,

Heaps of music and crucial life lessons that they gained through the punk scene remains with the MacKayes. As they gather for the Sunday meals and for Susannah's birthday, the conversations are sure to be lively and insightful. The MacKaye children of today will have enough of their parents' stories and anecdotes to last them a lifetime, and they'll feed off those discussions and create vital paths of their own and experiences to pass on as well. "I suppose it's what I didn't learn that's kept me free," Alec said. "I'm pretty resistant to being led away from the things that I cherish. I didn't learn to grow up and be completely conventional, even though there's been plenty of peer pressure from adults. It's a cliche, but it's true, that you really need to stay true to the things that serve you best, and I've continued to do that." "I have two daughters and that's another moment where I just didn't know what that was gonna be like, being a father," Alec added. "I wasn't really afraid of being a father, I was afraid of being a member of the village. You know, they always say it takes a village to raise a child... to me, the village just fucking bothers me and they should just go raise their own children and stay outta my face. That was something I was worried about, but I found out there's other villagers that feel the same way, so that was a relief. I can be a father that isn't like the ones that you think are perfect, and that's OK, and my kids love that about me." For Amanda, she forever enjoys watching Ian and Alec perform and says it's a cool feeling to be still walking her own path. "At this point in my life, it doesn't hurt to be different. When I was 12, it was really complicated and painful for me that all the kids in the neighborhood thought I was weird and I didn't really have any friends, except for Josh who introduced me to Joan Jett, which was incredible 'cause it's still very prominent for me," said Amanda, who's still in touch with Josh. She's thankful for remaining true to herself since the day she stepped into the garage with Katie to watch Ian and the Slinkees. The high school she works at has a staff spirit week on tap and they're asking people to dress like they did in high school. Amanda and I laugh: "Same." (Except that she doesn't wear leather anymore, so that jacket of yore won't make an appearance.) Alec jokes that Ian's the ultimate storyteller of the family. He remembers occurrences with exact dates and years and relays the information in great detail, with verve and a dose of humor. Through the punk scene, the trio of MacKayes -- Ian, Alec and Amanda -- have woven themselves together. "In the '70s and the early '80s, there was a lot of chaos in our family, with our parents, and I think that punk probably was something that was very anchoring for us," Ian said. "And I think the three of us especially, really that was an important connection. It was something that we could feel committed to and it was a safe thing."

There’s Something Hard In There Blog

#fugazi #ian mackaye #alec mackaye #amanda mackaye

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nicosroom · 4 years ago

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New year, same pandemic

Hello, 2021! It’s been a while, Tumblr.

Given 2020, it seems strange to set goals for the new year ahead. Yet, here we are...

This is a work in progress organized by categories for now; I’m not sure yet if I can muster a 21 for 2021 or a 52 list as I’ve done in years past.

Fitness:

Nine months of stay at home have forced us all to get creative, it seems. I started strong with this in March, when a friend invited a group to do Yoga with Adriene’s 30 Days of Yoga series, aptly called “Home” (having released it in January, I guess Adriene couldn’t have known). I was a bit nervous. The last time I’d done Adriene’s 30 Days of Yoga (January 2016), I injured my wrist and it took about 8 weeks to heal/recover; then, for me, about a year to get back on the yoga mat; and when I did, I would only go to professionally guided classes. So this March, I started slow with an every-other-day routine. l had some trouble forming a habit, though, especially on the weekends, so I shifted to a Monday through Friday commitment; this, I found much more compelling because soon enough, the yoga sessions marked the end of my (at home) workday and the start of my evening “me time.” This yoga habit is one of the better “silver linings” that I exit 2020 with.

Other fitness activities have been hit or miss all quarantine long. I’ve had a fairly strong habit of 20-30 minute daily walks and when I was still in Colorado, I tried to get on the hiking trails each week. Still, I had to lower my daily step goals from 10,000 of the past many years of using fitness trackers, to the far more realistic 5,000. With the gym closed, living in a studio apartment, walking was all I could really manage; and being the stress chef that I am, from March through June (like many), I saw the scale going up ever so slowly. When I got to Ohio, where I’ve tried teaching remotely while living with my parents, I had much more luck thanks to the wide open spaces of their farmland, an enthusiastic walking buddy in their 10-year-old Pomeranian, and both an elliptical (mom’s never realized New Year’s resolution in 2017) and a treadmill (perhaps from the early 1990s). Yet, living with my parents has seemed to wreck my diet, both because they’re such meat eaters, my stress eating (provoked by Zoom university and them), and all the fall/winter holiday foods I can’t resist). While I haven’t been gaining as I was earlier this year, my weight has hovered at 140, about 10 more than I want.

Now, I’m packing up once more and heading to a new state and my own apartment once again. I’m excited to take control of my own grocery shopping, food prep, and space again, but I’m nervous about saying goodbye to the cardio machines and the wide open spaces. It seems, just in time, a friend has introduced me to Cassey Ho’s Blogilates channel and monthly workout calendar, a trove of at home cardio and Pilates videos that are apartment friendly and largely equipment-free. I started incorporating these into my routine in early December and enter the new year four weeks ahead of the curve on habit-formation. So, here are some fitness goals for 2021:

Daily, 10-min wake up & stretch video

January 4-25, I’m tackling the Blogilates #21DayTone

After that, my workout routine will be:

Monday thru Friday, Yoga with Adriene video

Monday thru Friday, Blogilates video(es)

By Dec. 25, 2021, I want to be able to do the splits

Buy a new yoga mat: I’ve had the same one since college (12+ years!), so it’s past due, and I feel really compelled by the product placement in Adriene and Cassey’s videos. And Target just started carrying Blogilates products. But, given how much I now am using my mat these days, it feels like an investment rather than a once-in-while accessory. And actually, I might buy two. Are there recommended folding mats for that are easy to pack when traveling? I’m traveling by car most often now, so it isn’t the worst to bring mine rolled, but when we can resume plane travel...

Work/Productivity:

My research has seriously suffered during the pandemic. There are a lot of explanations: grief and depression and a daily onslaught of bad news; my contingent status in the academy and the overall trash fire of the profession’s unpredictable financial future; and being completely unsettled in my home life while working from home. I’ll feel a lot better if I can produce some writing that I like, so after I get settled in the new place, I have some goals...

First, I’ve arranged to do a book review, which is due February 1, which I hope will be the gateway to feeling like I accomplished something.

Then, I’m aiming to draft this article I’ve been wallowing with for most of 2020. My “deadline” is June 30, which I hope is both generous and realistic, given that the new semester promises more of the same at global Zoom university.

To help me achieve these goals, I’m re-instating one of my dissertation writing techniques, which is a minimum of 40 minutes of timed writing per (non-teaching) day. Many days, those 40-minute writing intervals got repeated 4-5 times; but there are just some days where 40 minutes is all I have, whether its for scheduling reasons or for bandwidth or because it’s the weekend.

Sleeping & waking:

A constant, it seems, is to work on sleep and waking habits. Actually, my sleep habits have improved drastically over the past several years. During the pandemic, I’ve maybe even been sleeping more than ever. And as such, it’s my waking habits that have suffered, given the drastic disruption of routines and the total collapse of any separation between living space and workspace. I’m used to waking up about two hours before I need to be somewhere or do something; I take long showers and like to linger over breakfast. For months now, I find myself lingering in bed for 45 minutes to an hour after my initial alarms, not usually dozing off and repeatedly snoozing them even, but browsing social media (despite there being few updates since the previous night). Subsequently, I feel rushed as I shower, dress, and take in breakfast, hoping that I’ll hit my “home office” space by 9am.

In 2021, I’m striving to…

spend 20 minutes of non-screen activity immediately before bed, whether reading, drawing, coloring, etc.

live by a one snooze limit and get out of bed within 10 minutes of the alarm

also meaning, no social media browsing in bed in the mornings

(as noted above) start each day with a 10-minute stretch routine (even the weekends)

get back to hearty breakfasts… in my rush, I’m reaching for yogurts and various packaged breakfast biscuits or cereals. When I plan ahead and actually prep overnight oatmeal or organize some kind of breakfast bowls, where I only have to add an egg or an avocado in the mornings, I feel much better and my morning work flows more smoothly.

Spending:

Four months living with my parents rent free (down from nearly $1200 a month I was spending on rent), I expected to pad my savings accounts with quite a bit of money in the fall semester, even as I was on a part time salary. But alas, I seem to have not… Like a lot of people, retail therapy has been a favorite way to cope with the pandemic… candles, new boots, a two year supply of Korean facemasks, yet another set of Pyrex, books and more books. I purchased a few things I’ve been putting off for years, including a new laptop (mine was 10 years old) and a proper desk chair (which I’ve never had). In October, I was advised to get new tires before the winter set in ($494). And, my marketplace health insurance plan (including vision and dental), $244 per month… It added up fast.

In the new year, I’ll be on full time salary and have employer benefits, lowering my out of pocket costs on insurance. And although living on my own means my living expenses will surely rise (rent, utilities, grocery, and house supplies), I hope to calm down my discretionary spending once I get the new apartment set up––admittedly, there are some furniture purchases I want to make first (a real couch, a couple bookshelves, a baker’s rack for the kitchen).

Eating/ Recipes:

2020 was such a wreck for my eating habits, even before the pandemic as I navigated my interview schedule, travel, and stress during the tenure-track job market; and the college’s block schedule (ironically, I was teaching food literature, yet I barely had time to cook or feed myself fresh foods). Then came the pandemic, where I had all the time to cook for myself… and cooking and eating seemed to be the only thing to do. So, I occupied myself planning complicated recipes, brainstorming how to use up any out-of-the-usual ingredients I would need for them. And I also noticed myself picking up new, not healthy habits, like buying non-dairy ice creams on my bi-weekly, masked up and high stress grocery forays. And on top of that, I felt compelled to support local businesses with huge takeout orders that might last me two or three days.

Spring faded into summer, summer into fall and I was settling in for the long haul at my parents’ house. They’re eating habits are generally pretty healthy (my mom has a degree in nutrition after all), but they are also truly midwestern “meal = meat” types. Probably as part of my grad school budgeting, I’ve long adapted to eating meat sparingly, preparing it at home just a few times a month or, more typically, getting it at restaurants while eating mainly vegetarian at home. I also found in my mom’s house that it is stocked with sweets and snacks like it never was when I was a kid––potato chips, cookies, chocolates, sugary drinks. Alone, I manage my inability to resist by simply not buying many of these things, but here they were all the time.

Moving into my apartment this January, it very much feels like I’m setting myself up for success in 2021, as I take control of my grocery trips once more, re-establish my meal prep habits, and dial down meat consumption/dial up veggies.

Here are some recipes I’m excited to try this year:

Oat and banana based breakfast muffins

Crock pot butter chicken

Various waffles (I got a mini waffle maker!), especially scallion waffles; leftover Thanksgiving stuffing waffles; hash brown waffles; and zucchini fritters (I tried to make these on the frying pan last year, but I think I’ll get a better crisp in the waffle maker)

Sweet potato biscuits (for a breakfast sandwich)

Various soups, including Chicken & Hominy Stew with Greens

Hasselback Potato with Cilantro-Peanut Dressing

Cookies: coffee (winter/Christmas), pumpkin (fall)

Read/Watch:

Finish The Bluest Eye (Morrison) - I’ve been stalled on p. 130 since July 2020. Help.

Laura Kang, Traffic in Asian Women

Charles Yu, Interior Chinatown

Tommy Orange, There There

The Lunchbox

History and Memory

Minari

Taxi Driver

90 Day Fiancée (for research)

#2021 #new year #New Year's Resolution #52 list #21 for 2021 #goals

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techcrunchappcom · 4 years ago

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New Post has been published on https://techcrunchapp.com/as-economy-dangles-over-a-precipice-netanyahu-and-gantz-bicker-and-delay-the-times-of-israel/

As economy dangles over a precipice, Netanyahu and Gantz bicker and delay - The Times of Israel

At least 800,000 Israelis are unemployed, with more added to the rolls each day. Over 1,000 virus carriers are now being discovered daily as the government contemplates drastic new lockdown measures. A NIS 100 billion ($29 billion) emergency recovery and stimulus package pieced together by panicked politicians is set to begin disbursement this coming week, adding to a NIS 80 billion ($23 billion) one launched two months ago. Both offer only a short-lived resuscitation for the faltering economy as 2020 drags through its seventh month without a comprehensive state budget.

The recovery spending may be a desperately needed cushion for tens of thousands of businesses and hundreds of thousands of newly unemployed, but it won’t deal effectively with the fallout from the virus or replace the careful rebalancing of national priorities that the country needs and that only a full-fledged budget law allows. A government signing checks isn’t a sustainable model for stemming the bleeding and managing an economic rehabilitation.

Yet that desperately needed state budget bill isn’t advancing. It’s stuck in a political stalemate that saw its presentation to the government delayed twice over the past week. It was originally scheduled to be presented to the cabinet last Thursday, July 9. That was pushed to Sunday, then pushed again to next Thursday. Officials refused to commit over the weekend to July 16 as the new deadline.

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The delays are not in themselves a crisis. A week’s delay is no terrible setback for a stupendously complex state budget bill reaching into the NIS 400 billion ($116 billion) range. The trouble with the delay is its cause: Treasury officials are done hashing out the numbers, but Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and Defense Minister Benny Gantz don’t trust one another enough to bring an agreed-upon bill to a cabinet vote.

What they want, and why

Netanyahu is demanding a one-year budget to cover the immediate problems presented by 2020, with a separate budget law for 2021 to be passed by February. Gantz is insisting on a two-year budget, as stipulated by the coalition agreement between Likud and Blue and White signed in April.

Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu (center) and Finance Minister Israel Katz (right) with representatives of self-employed Israelis and small business owners at the Prime Minister’s Office in Jerusalem, July 10, 2020 (PMO)

Netanyahu has a point. Finance officials are unanimous in the view that a two-year budget would make it harder to put the nation’s finances in order amid the pandemic. The future is too clouded to see past the second wave of the virus into the fall of 2020 — never mind the fall of 2021. Without a better picture of the virus’s spread, of the likelihood of a third and fourth wave, of the timetable for a vaccine, of the global economic situation writ large, and of the economy’s broader resilience in the face of social distancing measures, preparing a 2021 budget in the middle of 2020 is an exercise in frustration that will only delay the work required to turn around a more appropriate 2021 bill in six months’ time.

Gantz has rejected the argument repeatedly, even after the Finance Ministry’s budgets chief Shaul Meridor, Director General Keren Terner-Eyal and Accountant General Roni Hizkiyahu all concurred with Netanyahu.

But Gantz has a point too.

Gantz’s problem with the one-year budget is technical — but also fundamental. The coalition agreement states that if the government is toppled before Gantz gets to serve as prime minister, then Gantz takes over automatically as premier for the duration of the interim government until election day. It’s a stipulation meant to ensure Netanyahu doesn’t topple the government early to prevent Gantz from becoming prime minister, as it would hand Gantz the premier’s chair in such a scenario. But that automatic rotation is canceled, the agreement states, if Gantz himself topples the government by failing to vote for the state budget. Reducing the budget law from two years to one grants Netanyahu an exit ramp from his agreement; he need only pick a fight with Gantz over the 2021 budget.

Even if Gantz believes the finance officials, he’s suspicious at Netanyahu’s sudden good fortune.

Defense Minister Benny Gantz (L), Health Minister Yuli Edelstein (C) and Maj. Gen. Uri Gordon (R), head of the the IDF’s Home Front Command, tour the Home Front Command headquarters on July 7, 2020. (Ariel Hermoni/Defense Ministry)

So, too, are Netanyahu’s allies in Likud and in the Haredi parties.

On Thursday, Shas leader Aryeh Deri, fearful of new elections that might delay the budget law, and with it delay desperately needed funds for Haredi seminaries and schools, reportedly shouted at Netanyahu during a call that he’s “pushing for new elections” and hung up on him. It was an unusual sign of tension between Netanyahu and his Haredi allies, made even more significant by the fact that Shas leaked the report about the call.

The trouble with an election

Gantz doesn’t want an election. If he fails to survive politically until November 2021 and take his seat as prime minister, his political legacy will be short and ignominious: he’ll be the man who broke up the most successful anti-Netanyahu coalition in a decade, and for what? But if he survives and becomes premier, he instantly transforms himself into the most viable contender to rally the center and left for the next election cycle – and vindicates the hard political compromises he made to sit in a government with Netanyahu. He’ll be the man who at long last, with infinite patience and political sacrifice, finally unseated Netanyahu.

Netanyahu doesn’t want an election. He’d win, according to all polls since April. Israeli voting patterns show a consistent advantage to force of habit. A new MK who survives into their second term is quite likely to survive to a fifth. Most don’t survive that first reelection. It’s not very different with prime ministers; Ariel Sharon won a second term in 2003, and his popularity grew steadily even as his policies changed sharply.

Yet victory in an Israeli election is a function of coalition-building, not just personal success. Netanyahu’s Likud might win 36 seats (according to a Channel 12 poll last week), more than twice the next-largest faction, but a right-wing coalition as a whole wins just 64 seats, not very far ahead of the 61-vote minimum majority in the 120-seat Knesset required to win the election.

Protesters demand government action at a demonstrations in Tel Aviv’s Rabin Square against Israeli economic policy in the wake of the economic crisis triggered by the pandemic, on July 11, 2020. (Miriam Alster/Flash90)

All forecasts say Israel’s economic situation is only going to worsen in the coming months, and Netanyahu doesn’t want a referendum on his rule just when that crisis may be peaking.

The solution

How do you square the circle? How does one secure for Gantz the assurances given to him in the coalition agreement while allowing the one-year budget urged by the economists?

The answer is simple, and has already been proposed to Netanyahu by Aryeh Deri: As the one-year budget bill advances, pass another law that gives Gantz the interim premiership — the same protection he has if Netanyahu topples the government for a non-budget reason — if the 2021 budget fails.

Gantz, too, has a simple solution, though it may create problems down the road. Pass the two-year budget on paper, but with the stipulations and requirements of the 2020 budget, then immediately set to work passing an amendment to correct the 2021 portion of the law. That way, the budget has passed, the political crisis avoided down the road, and a second 2021 bill can put in place what an original 2021 budget law would have instituted.

The technicalities here can be significant. A budget law for 2021 that doesn’t reflect appropriate policies for 2021 could hurt Israel’s credit rating. And as 2020 teaches, it’s never wise to rely on any new budget law passing easily through the Knesset. Deri’s solution is probably the wiser economically, even if Gantz’s is more likely to offer political stability.

Protesters scuffle with police after a demonstration calling for financial support from the government amid the coronavirus crisis in Tel Aviv on July 11, 2020 (Miriam Alster/Flash90)

Why, then, is the fight continuing?

Why is Blue and White refusing the urging of the treasury, and even of the wholly independent Bank of Israel, for a one-year budget, and declining, too, the Deri-proposed (and Haredi-backed) change to the interim government law?

“Netanyahu is pushing with all his might for elections,” a Blue and White official told Channel 12 late last week. He called the recovery package a populist stand-in for the budget law that proves elections are coming – “throwing money at citizens in order to break up the government by March.” And he noted, correctly, that “even the Haredim know Netanyahu’s pushing for elections,” or at least suspect as much.

Likud retorted on Thursday: “All economists agree that Israel needs a one-year budget now, and immediately. While the prime minister works around the clock to create this budget alongside the coronavirus financial aid package, Blue and White is torpedoing it for political reasons.”

Not quite. Likud’s complaint was true until Deri brought his proposal to the table.

Plenty of time?

Why is Netanyahu sticking to his guns and refusing to offer the stabilizing concession that Gantz is demanding — a concession, after all, that would merely see him fulfilling his written commitments to Gantz in the coalition agreement?

Shas party chairman and Minister of Interior Aryeh Deri (center), Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu (right), and Blue and White leader Benny Gantz, at the Knesset on November 4, 2019. (Hadas Parush/Flash90)

Could it be that Netanyahu simply wants Gantz to stay suspicious, to keep him permanently off-guard? Netanyahu’s political needs didn’t create the one-year budget, but he’s not above taking advantage of it to play another round of petty politics.

And why is Gantz willing to push ahead with a two-year budget, which is politically sensible but, say all the experts, bad economic policy at a time when the nation needs good economic policy more than ever?

Negotiators between Likud and Blue and White say neither side wants elections. But each is willing to delay a desperately needed budget law — not so they can debate looming cuts to welfare or defense, nor over fears of a runaway deficit, but as a political maneuver. They have time, they feel. After all, the deadline for a first Knesset vote doesn’t come up till August 25. That’s six weeks away.

Meanwhile, the Bank of Israel last week updated its forecast for 2020 to negative 6% growth, the steepest shrinking of Israel’s economy in the country’s history.

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