#also drove home the fact that she’s like … 20 during the events of this game

[mass-convergence]

Tbh I think my favorite little Abby scene in TLOU2 is when she’s scared af on the bridge (Abby … you don’t need to be afraid of heights to find that OSHA and just general civil engineering code violation of a “bridge” absolutely terrifying)

And Lev just casually asks about what’s going on between her and Owen and she just responds with “Oh my god Lev! Now?!”

Like that is some fucking peak sibling energy.

[syms-things-5]

Clear The Area

Warning: Not explicit (yet); some mild language. This has been quite cathartic in a way.

Summary: 29-year-old nurse Sarah Bernette has worked hard to get where she is. Moving to Boston from a nowhere dump of a town, she’s studied hard and is grateful her stress is finally paying off. Despite being fostered repeatedly throughout her childhood, she’s since found some comfort in the form of her adopted parents, Jocelyn and Noah, and a pseudo-adoptive family of sorts in form of the Evans clan who have treated her as one of her own ever since she moved in with best friend, Shanna. Valuing them above all else, she appreciates their support even more when her long lost birth mother decides to reappear in her life after so many years, and is surprised to find out just how supportive Chris is in particular. As she struggles to maintain a firm grip on both her professional and private lives, she finds an ill-advised solace in her growing mutual attraction with him but how long before everything unravels and threatens to pull the rug out from underneath her?

Note: I have two chapters written and will post ‘Chapter Two’ at some point this weekend to get things moving. I apologise for my spelling/grammar errors. Let me know if there is something wildly incorrect here and I’ll change it. Still figuring out a few things and I expect this will be a slow burn but it’s exciting to finally get off my arse and…sit down and write. 

CHAPTER ONE

Today was probably a 4 out of 10.

4.5 if she was feeling generous.

Sarah thought about the decisions she had made in the past decade that lead her right to this moment, this moment being cleaning neon-coloured vomit off her scrubs for the second time in the past hour.

“You would think people would have learned downing shots of Absinthe was not a great idea by the time they’d left their teens,” snickered Audrey before shooting her a sympathetic look and handing over another wipe. “I can’t believe how green it was. It looks like you got punked by the Marshmallow Man!”

“Thanks for that.” Sarah was scrubbing as hard as she could while internally questioning her decision to pursue Nursing all those years ago. Her History teacher once told her she could have “a decent stab” at becoming a Middle School teacher if she applied herself right. Right now, she could be knee-deep in teaching half-interested kids about the 27 Amendments without an ounce of sick in sight. Instead, she was baffled. “Fuck. It’s practically luminous…”

This must have been payback for pushing herself as a teenager. Being fostered in and out of care homes during your formative years could turn you one way or the other, and Sarah chose “the other”. She was sure the universe was telling her she should have stayed put and been happy with her lot in life, in her too-small town with no feasible job prospects, where everyone knew you and held that against you, instead of moving halfway across the country with next to no money to study at a University she couldn’t afford and would most likely be in debt to for the next twenty years. Now, however, she got to convince local drunks that climbing on to roofs was, in fact, not a great idea despite the bet they had made with their “friends”. On a good day, she got to help children pick out the colours for their plaster casts. 

Or take today. Today, she got to lecture a group of young people about the trials and tribulations of playing “run the bus” with 60% proof. Every day was just a little bit different so as to keep things interesting. That, she reminded herself, was something she had to remain glad about.

She sighed and threw the last wipe in the bin. Taking a last look in the mirror, she turned to her friend for reassurance that she looked at least passable. She caught her frown before Audrey realised Sarah could see her and quickly gave her a thumbs up. She did love her Audrey which is why she decided to repay her kindness by forcing a hug on her as a thank you.

“Silver lining, though,” Audrey said, shoving her away, laughing in protest. “You’re lucky you didn’t get any in your hair.”

“Yeh bastards had a good aim at least.” Sarah dusted down her arms one last time to check for anything she might have missed and the two of them left the locker room. The place was now eerily quiet, thank god. Just run out the clock and they’d be home and dry in no time, figuratively speaking in Sarah’s case.

Audrey placed a comforting arm around her pal. “You want me to find some spare scrubs? I’m sure they’ll have some upstairs. It’ll only take a minute.”

“Nah it’s OK. I’ll be done in 20. Just gotta sign Mr. Richardson out from cubicle 5 then I’ll run home and shower.”

“OK, well, if you have to hang around, avoid triage because you-know-who is there and I don’t want you ruining your chances again.” Audrey pinched Sarah on her hip and headed back to her work.

You-know-who was Greg Anderson, an attractive 30-something medic from a hospital on the other side of town. He was up-and-coming in Paediatrics apparently and had been shadowing a Consultant for the past few weeks. He was 6ft plus with dark hair and brown eyes and his father was something big in Economics in MIT. He drove a Porsche and wore Louboutin’s on his rounds which had Audrey practically foaming at the mouth. Indeed, he hadn’t bypassed the attentions of the majority of females in the ER, as well as a few men and even a couple of patients but as always, Sarah was solely focussed on the job at hand to pay him any heed. Audrey thought she caught him staring at her the other week, though, and made it her mission to set them up. She took great pride in playing matchmaker for her friend given that she herself got locked down nine years earlier and “it’s a damn shame to let these skills go to waste.’ She had somehow also managed to get Shan and Lisa onside, too, however that had happened.

Greg was handsome, she’d agree with that, and definitely her type in the right light but something was a little too Republican for her liking. Plus, he was a Rangers’ fan and Sarah swore blind early on in her life that she couldn’t bring children up in that kind of hostile environment. Sarah briefly contemplated walking past triage with the lingering scent now clinging to her clothes but as Audrey kindly repeated to her at regular intervals during the days, Greg was her only realistic prospect right now and figured it was perhaps better to keep her options open, at least for the time being.

Mr. Richardson was gone pretty soon afterwards and, accepting defeat for another day, Sarah grabbed her bag and headed home.

*

There was definitely beer left in the fridge, she was sure of it. She’d bought a six-pack at the weekend and could only remember drinking two during the Bruins’ game, so…

“Oh yeh, you’re out of beer.” 

Sarah turned around from the fridge to face a sheepish looking Chris holding the last frosted bottle in his hand, his ball cap low over his face attempting to hide the faint black circles under both his eyes. There was a 5 o’clock shadow forming now he wasn’t required to shave. As drained as she was, she briefly contemplated wrestling him to the ground for that last swig. He looked just as tired. She figured she could take him. At least he had the decency to look guilty about it.

“I’ll run out and get you some if you…Jesus! Why do you smell like a brewery?!” He practically recoiled holding his free hand to his nose.

Sarah rolled her eyes and grabbed a glass for some cold water instead. “Are you here to just annoy me or steal my beer as well?”

“Both now you ask but seriously, what have you been doing all day? You don’t usually smell this bad.” He joked.

“Oh, some kids took it in turns to throw up on me and I didn’t have any clean scrubs to change into.” She downed the water and went to fill the glass up again. God, she didn’t realise she was this dehydrated. Chris shot her a look of confusion. “It’s a long story. Is Shan around?” She shed herself of her scrub top and headed into her bedroom down the hallway, Chris casually following behind.

She had to pop out for something so I’m just handing here ‘til she gets back. You coming for dinner at Ma’s? She’s doing her famous lamb roast. Might wanna shower first, though.” He joked, playfully sticking his tongue out at her.

“God, I forgot how hilarious you are.” she overtly rolled her eyes at him. “No, I’m good. Just gonna head for an early night, I think.”

“OK, well, if you change your mind, we’re leaving in half an hour. You know she’ll make me drive back to get you otherwise.”

That was true. For as long as she’d known and lived with Shanna, Lisa had treated her like any other member of her family and Sarah had never fully grasped how much she had appreciated it, coming from where she did. Lisa knew Sarah’s folks weren’t as close by any more and compensated for this by inviting to every dinner night she held, every games night, school events, theatre events, and more besides. She spent Christmases with them, visited Disney with them, and had New Years with them on occasions she wasn’t working. Lisa even organised a surprise birthday get-together for her as well despite Shan’s protests that she wasn’t a birthday kind of person. Sarah had learned to stop feeling awkward or out of place soon after.

Once Shan told Lisa Sarah had wanted to start learning to play piano as a new year’s resolution, Lisa had insisted she could teach her whenever she had some spare time. There soon after followed afternoons of tea and gossip and not much playing of the piano but it felt comfortable and nice for the first time in a long time. Shan would make excuses so Sarah didn’t feel obligated to attend everything but in truth, she didn’t mind so much. It was nice to feel wanted.

Chris was lounging on her armchair with one leg over the armrest, messing on his phone. Sarah could count the number of times on one hand the nights he had spent in his own place since returning to Boston a fortnight ago. As true as it was that he rarely spoke about filming in any great detail, she could nevertheless tell he’d been left particularly drained by this particular experience and wasn’t looking forward to the reshoots scheduled for next month. There had been a rumour he’d started sleeping with his married co-star and she guessed Lisa had been mithering him about it hence him turning up on their doorstep last week. Other than one night back in his own bed, he had remained on their sofa ever since, clearly relishing in the familiar company.

“So what made those kids throw up?” Chris called out, still engrossed in his phone. A quick glance over his shoulder told her he’d been ignoring someone’s text messages.

By now Sarah was in her old yet comfy sweatpants and a Boston hoodie Shan had bought her as an anniversary present of her 5th year living there. “Um, Absinthe. The nasty kind.” She was gathering her washing together.

Chris whistled low through his teeth, a kind of “been there, done that”.

“Rookie mistake.“ he laughed to himself. He frowned at his phone before chucking it onto her bed and turned around in her chair to plant both feet on the carpet, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees. He looked like he wanted to get something off his chest but was struggling to find the words. He was reluctant to drag Sarah into anything given how exhausted she looked. Despite their differences in careers, sometimes it felt like she was the only person he knew who could understand how long and tiresome the days could get. Then he would inevitably feel embarrassed he was out there only pretending to save lives when she was out there day after day actually living it for real in all of its bloody glory. And for a tiny fraction of his pay. He tried not to water than thought too much.

“I take it you know,” he asked quietly, still not looking up from her bedroom floor.

“Know what?”

“About Jenny?”

“Oh,” she paused for a brief second. He’d know straight away she was lying if she tried to play dumb. “I mean your mom might have mentioned something in passing,” she shrugged unconvincingly. He scoffed knowing she would have talk about nothing else since the rumours started gathering pace online. He knew he hadn’t done himself any favours by avoiding the conversation either but he simply couldn’t stand another lecture of disapproving look. Dinner tonight was to be his mea culpa.

Sarah was thankful when she heard the front door go and then the sound of Shan dropping her bags in the kitchen and heading towards Sarah’s room.

“I signed for this for you this morning while you were out.” she handed Sarah a brown envelope before turning to Chris with a hand on her hip, looking like she was scolding her 7-year old nephew. “Mom’s been trying to get hold of you all day. She wasn’t sure if she needed to lay an extra seat for you this evening. Sarah, she wanted me to make sure I couldn’t persuade you to come as well?” Sarah shook her head and held up her stained clothes and enjoyed Shan’s visible flinch.

“I’m not even going to ask.” She held her hands up and walked out. Chris rolled his eyes in mock imitation of Shan and Sarah smiled sympathetically, mouthing a “good luck” to him as he left trailing behind her.

Sarah was left looking down at the envelope in her hands. It looked very official; the kind you would receive if you’d been summoned to a court hearing or Jury Duty. She didn’t recognise the address or the stamp but recognised her home town almost straight away. It had been years since she’d been there. Why the hell were they dragging her back now?

*

[cleverbroadwayurl]

Prom Queen (Jeremy Heere x Reader Pt 20)

Song: Prom Queen by Catie Turner

Word Count: 2629

Need to Catch Up? Again, everything is linked in my masterlist because Tumblr is being silly about links! 

A/N: Please enjoy this new installment! I’ve been working hard on making sure that this piece is wonderful, and actually over a year ago, I started writing and rewriting this piece! I am so happy with how far it’s come and the support on it is amazing!! Thank you so much! 

Taglist: @retrogarden @be-more-heidi-hansen @scarsonthecuffsofyourjeans @catatonic-kuragin @bluhimaweirdo @stargirl-murphy 

Trigger Warnings: Jeremy self depreciating, mentions of alcohol, extreme concern, mentions of an abusive boyfriend, mentions of traumas happening to a main character, mentions of the SQUIP, if I MISSED ANYTHING LET ME KNOW

Jeremy reaches his hand out, shaking as he tries to move the cursor away from the piece of media. He stops. Sharply, quickly, he shuts his laptop and casts it aside. Rolling over, the tears that had been forming in his eyes now spill down his cheeks. He can feel his legs contracting, toes curling so hard that his muscles begin to hurt, hands gripping the blanket. You were okay. You had to be okay.

Right?

It’s been two weeks since Jeremy had packed up his entire room with Michael and landed himself back at home, in his own room, with his own bed, and his own bathroom. The change had been sudden, weird, foreign to him. There was a though as he had looked at his house—a simple one, a new one: I don’t live here anymore, do I?. As the bags rolled up and into the house, Jeremy felt himself hesitate, like the world had stopped for a second to allow him to just take everything in. Sure, he was happy to be back and see his friends, but he missed some of the people that he’d met at school. He missed being able to have explicit conversations at Michael at literally any time of the day, the 3 AM Super Smash Bros. battles on a random Tuesday. All of this even before he’d stepped into the house that he’d come to know so well. It was weird, frightening almost.

But that melted away when he set up his room and finally got things unpacked. Once everything had its place once again, it felt normal again. It had taken him a week to do that, and the second he finished, Brooke texted the group chat and asked about having a get together while Jake was still in town on vacation before his job started back up again—owning two places as an independent student wasn’t practical, so he just chose to move to the town his college was in and get a job there. He’d only be in town for a week or two, so this event would be important. It would be the only time that the group would see him before their own semesters restarted in four months.

Within the hour, it’s decided: a bonfire in Brooke’s large country backyard. The weather was finally warm enough to actually enjoy Summer activities, rather than just dream about them in the middle of class—Brooke’s words, not his. But the ability to wear a t-shirt with no coat was definitely a liberating feeling. And so it was planned. The date was set, Jake was free, and Jeremy snapped back into reality as he looked around at the done-up backyard that Brooke obviously put time into.

He glances around at the golden lights above his head, the ones from Target that are as big as your fist. The department store called them “patio lights”, but Brooke had just strung them overhead on just part of her large yard, wrapping around beams, and making what would be soon twilight calming, despite the loudness of conversations and people. Within minutes after everyone arrived, the fire was started—safely—and the party officially started. Jeremy kicked the dirt and the lemonade in his cup swished before going back to its static state.

For the safety of everyone driving, Jake mainly, who’d have to drive two hours back the next day, no alcohol was served. It just made things easier for everyone, alcohol had too many reasons to it, too many bad memories, and was too social in such a way that if one person had a drink, it’d be awkward for everyone else and visa versa. But that didn’t mean there weren’t options. There was soda, lemonade, pink lemonade, juice, and water. Of course, you could also mix different drinks together to create something new, which apparently Rich liked to do, because that’s what Jeremy ended up with after he’d asked “can you get me something to drink?”

It wasn’t a bad taste, it was just different. He’d asked for no caffeine, shockingly, because it was late and he kinda wanted to sleep that night. And Rich had kept his promise not to do that. He wasn’t going to intentionally go against someone’s wishes for no reason—that was dick move he’d been done with for almost 2 years now.

A breeze goes by, and for the first time in months, it feels good. It’s a cool 65, warm enough to wear a t-shirt and jeans, but not get cold when the breeze does hit you. The sun continues to set and the area goes from the golden that Jeremy envied and avoided so much to the darker hues of blue around him. The lights in the larger country house go on, the little kitchen window overlooking the backyard now prominent against the forest behind the party. As Jeremy zones out of conversation, he can feel heat in his chest—he missed this. He’d missed his friends, missed the get togethers, and while he really loved having people on his college campus that didn’t know anything about his junior year, he liked having people that he could relate to. He liked having a support group that didn’t need words to operate, but knew just by your actions what was happening. He enjoyed the way that he relaxed around the group, the way that everything seemed to click. No one was alone in the group, unless that person asked to be alone. He liked it. College was spent alone usually, this was…nice was the best word he could come up with.

Daisy runs through the party and stops at Jeremy. He can’t help a smile as he leans down and pets the yellow lab, her face reflecting the smile. The dog pants and enjoys the pets she gets before dashing off to a new part of the yard, chasing or following or doing something sweet that big dogs do. His heart swelled as she did so. Jeremy wasn’t sure why, but big dogs had such a soft spot in his heart. With a fluid motion, Jeremy decides to actually socialize with the people around him. His lemonade concoction swishes as he walks, and he’s careful to not spill it on himself or onto the ground. Jeremy decides to join the group of Chloe and Jenna; it’d been a while since he spoke to either of them, probably since around the holidays.

He joins in at the seemingly wrong time: Jenna’s talking about her social work classes for her major and prelaw track. She’s smart, she’s confident, and the prelaw track was unexpected, but it suits her. The information she now stores in her head is to indefinitely help people instead of using it in the snake-like way she once did. While not the social butterfly in high school, Jenna sure seems to be one in college. Good for her.

There’s an exchange on conversation, shifting to Chloe’s interest in design. She’d been debating on which design for a while, but was now narrowed down to two different kinds: textile or interior. Jeremy was sure she’d choose interior. Chloe continued to talk on, but Jeremy couldn’t pay attention to her. The things she was saying were interesting, and he’d remember the silly facts later when talking to her. He knew how much Chloe loved to talk about design and creating—he’d get the spiel later.

No, instead, something felt off. There was something ominous about the Summertime for some reason. It felt like something was missing, like there was a loose connection somewhere. It had happened before, but nothing this strong, this out of place. It was that feeling you get when first starting a horror game. That edge, that something’s wrong but I don’t know what feeling. He kicks the dirt once again, lemonade drink clonking against the sides of the cup. This time, the drink doesn’t matter, the ground is just dirt, everything just felt like shapes. Fuck, maybe Night in the Woods had gotten to him too much. It wasn’t the same kind of shapes, though. It just…everything mattered to him, but the shapes persisted around him as the feeling kept haunting him.

As a distraction, he looks at the road and the neighbor’s house across the street. It’s a wooden house, and seems to only be stained and not painted. There are shutters, but Jeremy doesn’t notice them right away. It’s almost like a much larger version of a cottage in the woods. Instead, this is in an almost field area, out in the country but not owning any land for farming. It doesn’t matter. Jeremy can’t shake the feeling that there’s something odd. The air felt different, his mind is thinking about what that one thing is. He’s too distracted for a distraction.

Another breeze passes through, and Jeremy gets a chill this time as the leaves begin applauding the night. But instead of being set back into the present, Jeremy is escorted to the past. He can remember the wooden bench, the white paint, the architecture, the light in the octagon in the center of the roof, the that he—stop. It’s a command to himself. He can’t think about you. He can’t have the memories that include his senses happen here, not now. That would ruin the night, he’d have to go home, and not by himself. There’s no possible way to operate a car while his brain is giving him flashes, beautiful moments he’d shared with you—the way you’d clutched that coffee mug in the café, the way you’d been so afraid of everything, except, for the most part, him. The way you’d fallen asleep against the window of his car as he drove you home that first night, the Instagram posts, the moments of reluctancy, how everything came crashing down during one of the longest nights of Jeremy’s life. But he couldn’t start thinking about you now. He couldn’t think about the butterfly effect, the evidence that screams at him that you’re not okay or even worse.

Now is not the moment to think about that. Those times usually end in him playing the switch until 4 in the morning, trying to rid his head of you. All anyone had to do was ask Michael about it, he’d been the one to tell Jeremy to save for fuck’s sake and go to bed. Jeremy shakes his head of those thoughts, eyes searching for Michael around the yard, but fuck, he must be hallucinating because Michael isn’t anywhere to be found. Plan B: look for Rich.

But as soon as Jeremy’s eyes scan for Rich, he can’t spy that usually easy to spot red streak that Rich had kept so nicely. It was a trademark at this point, but not being able to find the trademark was terrifying. It was at this moment that Jeremy had to find someone who could just distract him until he could find one or both of them. And that’s when the conversation at hand seemed perfect for him. Jenna’s studies were interesting, an easy distraction was laid right in front of him. So he tuned in for a bit, but his brain was only retaining little information. The conversation had turned to white noise long ago, and his hand gripped the cup in his hand, knuckles turning white from forcing himself to attempt to be calm for just long enough to pass off that things were at least okay.

His eyes finally fix on the forest that surrounds the backyard, calming trees standing proudly against the golden light from the house and string lights above them. The yellowish glow gave the scene a heavenly glow. How ironic. As the darkness continued to seep into the area, the backs of the forest better fit Jeremy’s mood. On the surface, it was light, it was easy, like the beginning of Oxenfree. But underneath, everything felt dark, something was ominous, something was missing. With that thought, Jeremy realized just how destructive to himself he was being. This wasn’t the time to be thinking about you or trying to avoid thinking about you. Wikihow was right, he shouldn’t focus on forgetting you, he should just let things happen, let thoughts happen, and not dwell on them. It was easier to stop thinking about something when you aren’t trying to actively stop thinking about it. And the logic of it made sense, it’s just much easier said than done.

So his eyes refocus on the people around him, the sky, the idea of this chill party-turned bonfire and how nice it was to see everyone again. He thought about the moments before, the plans he had afterwards, but Michael had been weird about that. They usually played games after get togethers with all of their friends, but Michael had bailed this time, claiming that Jeremy probably wouldn’t want to. It was an odd excuse, and gave Jeremy that same feeling that he’d been feeling all night—and that was it. That was why everything was so odd, so weird, and of course reintegrating yourself back into your hometown is a weird feeling by itself, because again, Jeremy definitely felt like he’d moved. With a swish of his drink, Jeremy hears footsteps growing closer and the chain link fence to keep the dogs in click open.

With a quick assumption, Jeremy assumes that it’s just Jake or Rich or something coming back from getting more ice. It wasn’t warm, but the ice was melting like it was. He supposed that the breeze couldn’t cool it down—god that was a dumb joke. But it didn’t matter. He didn’t say it out loud. Jeremy blinks, and finally he’s able to focus on the conversation again.

But the minute that he’s ready to contribute to the conversation, Chloe and Jenna had backed away a little bit, sitting near the outskirts of the yard as they look at him. Jeremy gives a shrug, a confused look, before noticing that almost everyone had backed away from him and were talking quietly. He whips his head around and locks eyes with Christine. She smiles wide, wider than he’s seen all night, and she gives him a nod before taking another sip of whatever she’s drinking. Panic starts to spread around Jeremy, worried that this was a prank. Was someone about to spill water onto him? Where was Michael, and more importantly, where was Rich? Would they need Mountain Dew Red? Had things gotten bad again? Was that the reason behind the rude prank that he was sure was going to happen?

With another second, Jeremy spots the trademark; Rich’s red streak. He’s sipping his drink, almost trying to hide the large smile on his face. Now that Jeremy notices, everyone is following suit. They all have this playful look in their eyes, almost like he was again—about to be completely punk’d by Michael Mell himself. And then, almost all at once, everyone is telling him to turn around. But he’s not falling for that, he’s not falling for Michael standing right behind him to scare him. No way, not again. Finally, there’s a sound that Jeremy can hear.

“Jeremy?”

It’s from behind him, and he recognizes Michael’s voice. Tensing and almost preparing for the worst, Jeremy starts speaking, justifying his reasoning as he does so: “Michael, I swear to god if you’re—”

And then everything stops. Jeremy’s brain stopped functioning, worse than it had in months. His mouth hung open, drink dropped and now spilling onto the dirt. If it was seeping onto his shoes, Jeremy sure as hell didn’t notice. He wasn’t even sure if he was breathing as Michael stepped out of his line of sight. Jeremy can feel his mouth dry, his hands get sweaty, mind running fast enough that every motion that he’d done felt like a million years long. He wanted to say something, he prayed for something coherent and at least kind of smart to say, something that would be perfect, new, and beautiful. Something that captured everything that had been happening, but it didn’t matter. The silence was filled soon enough.

“Hey.”

It was you.

[collateralfiction]

20

Third Person Perspective

It was one of those days again where Mrs. Bank was preparing to head in to meet with her husband again. This time around, it would be strictly her and Detective Jason arriving today, minus her own daughter. She’d given Rayne a chance to relax for a bit because she knew that these meetings were becoming tiresome. The only good that seemed to come out of these strenuous meetings was the fact that Mr. Banks finally agreed to use Adrian as the main suspect. Although Rayne didn’t know his true intentions with visiting her sister that day, she knew something was wrong because soon after, Bailey didn’t want to talk about the encounter at all with her. Besides, even Ryan had his own intuition that it’s Adrian; it was all about proving it. Grabbing a water bottle from her stainless steel fridge, she sat it aside on the counter and quickly went upstairs to grab her bag of the day. She’d more than likely be gone all day long and with Rayne still in bed sleep, she was frightful of having her here alone.

Luckily for her, Chance had offered to stay behind and watch over Rayne just in case and to ensure protection fully, they were able to get a few of Mr. Banks old security members who were trustworthy and proved they were loyal countless times to surround the perimeter of the house and to also make sure that the two civilians in the house were alright. Just as Mrs. Banks came down from the staircase, her doorbell rung and instantly she thought of it to be Chance. But still, she looked at one of the monitor screens that were all over her house and sighed in relief upon noticing that it was in fact him. She dashed to the door in her comfy UGG loafers, pulling the heavy wooden door back.

“Chance!” she smiled, enveloping him in a hug. With how much Chance has been apart of Bailey’s life is the equivalent of how much he’s been apart of the parents and Rayne’s life. They pretty much look at him as apart of the family and have for a very long time. Chance had yet to tell Mama what he saw yesterday night in Dave and Buster’s, one main reason being that Mama Banks wasn’t in the city. If Chance could, he would have been delivered the news but now is the perfect time and with this piece of information, it just might put them one step closer or at least he hopes so.

Chance was utterly confused at seeing this mysterious man beside Bailey and he couldn’t quite grasp who it was and what was his importance. It definitely threw him off and it made such matters even more difficult with a new name that he has never heard before in his life; Kennedy. Who the hell is Kennedy? It definitely caught him off guard to the point where he wanted to speak up on it but the look in Bailey’s eyes told him otherwise or was it Kennedy’s? This was the bullshit Chance had to deal with last night. “Hey, mama,” Chance smiled back, greeting her with a tight hug. “How you been?”

“Fine, fine,” Mrs. Banks waved off. Regardless if Bailey was here or not, that couldn’t stop Mrs. Banks from her life because she still had to be around for Rayne and show the same amount of attention to her as before. She stepped aside so he could come in and in one hand, he held a bag full of snacks because Mrs. Banks is usually a health guru but times like this called for a fatty snack. “Rayne is upstairs sleeping still so she won’t be a bother much. Uh, I left a couple of twenties on the table in case you guys want to order out. You know the routine,” she laughed lightly.

“Cool,” he nodded. “You think I can talk to you for a second before you leave?” he asked, adjusting his L.A. Dodgers hat.

“Sure, sweetheart,” she said over her shoulder. The two of them both walked into the kitchen and while Mama Banks went to finishing off the home cooked meal she made especially for her husband, Chance took a seat on the mahogany colored stool, attempting to find the right approach to this situation.

It was better to be blunt than stall, he thought. “I saw Bailey last night,” The knife that she was using to cut the chicken fell out of her hands and slid down the marble counter until it came to a halt. There was no way she heard correctly. Spinning on the soles of her feet, she stared at Chance with a raised eyebrow. Clearing his throat, he went to further explain his statement before Mrs. Banks jumped to any conclusion and this ended up backfiring on him. “A few of my boys and I had went to Dave and Buster’s last night. I don’t know when and where she came from, but like she ran up on me and caught me by surprise, you know? I was shocked as hell, so I pulled her to the side and asked her what was going on. She totally dodged all my questions and repeatedly stated that she was okay and she’s fine but that just tells me the complete opposite,” he blurted.

Mrs. Banks stared with a very puzzled facial expression. “Was she alone?” Was the first and only question on her mind at the moment. If Bailey was out and about, why wouldn’t she come home freely?

“That’s where things get messy. I think she was on a date,”

Mrs. Banks was definitely perplexed. “A date? Are you sure?!”

“To be honest, I’m not. But, she was with somebody and they left out together,” This was just new information that caught her by surprise and the worst case scenarios began to invade her mind fiercely.

“Willingly?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “Like, she refused to go!” Chance’s frustrations with Bailey’s behavior was very noticeable. There had to be a strong reason as to why she didn’t want to leave with Chance. Ultimately, it would be a reason neither Chance or her mother would understand and that just might infuriate them even more. “She left with him,”

“And who was this him? Did you catch a name?”

“No, I can describe him for you but I ain’t catch a name. However, Bailey was going by the name Kennedy,” Now that was when things were starting to make her confused and red flags were being waved around in her head. Why would she possibly change her name? In Mrs. Bank mind that only meant one thing and that was the worse case scenario in her head. It was only supposed to be Mrs. Banks making an appearance today but with Chance’s latest revelation, this might put a change in the game. He just might have to come, and not only might he have to come, this might throw off everything in their mind and distract them from their actual target, Adrian, and actually cause them to question Lonnie, who they are not familiar with yet and it would take way longer just to find out who he actually is.

“Change of plans,” Mrs. B announced. “I’m going to wake up Rayne and we’re all going down there together,” she threw out as she went to go get her daughter. Chance sighed, placing his head in his hands. It really fucked with him in knowing that Bailey was right in front of his face and she had no motivation at all to leave. Chance didn’t know who she was with and it was literally frying his mind to come up with a possible name. He knew that Mr. Banks had Ryan and Xavier working on this thing too and he had wondered if he should have said something to them but decided against it.

It’ll eventually get to them, just by knowing how tight of a circle Mr. Banks keeps with everyone involved. “Alright,” he mumbled. He didn’t know what to expect from this, but it will certainly be eventful. He’s known Bailey’s dad for quite some time, way before he was incarcerated and he’s a tough guy to crack. The first time Bailey brought Chance around to informally meet her pops, it seemed as if Mr. Banks was getting ready to square up and knock Chance out. The first thing that came out of his mouth was; do you take an interest in my daughter? There’s no denying that Bailey is gorgeous but not every female friend Chance encounters does he want to fuck or date. Why can’t he just have a normal friend of the opposite sex? If Bailey didn’t see him in that light, he wouldn’t either. It was pointless.

“Ma, calm down. I barely have my sneakers on and you’re pushing me down the steps!” Rayne snapped, clearly aggravated by her mom’s sudden behavior. Rayne huffed, flopping down on the floor to properly put on her favorite pair of sneakers. Her mom didn’t seem fazed by her irate behavior because ever since Bailey’s been gone, that’s her way of rebelling. At first, it wasn’t such a big deal to her mother because she too understood her daughter’s frustration but just because her daughter is missing in action, she will not let her younger one disrespect her. It just won’t happen on her watch and if she has to, she’ll bring it to her father’s attention who will make sure she understands. “Now can you explain everything again?”

“On the car ride there,” her mother stated, quickly calling up Detective Jason with new information that’ll be useful for today. The three of them left the premises of the Banks family, climbing into the all black Escalade that was originally just waiting for Mrs. Banks. With everyone finally situated in the car, the engine was started, and their personal driver drove off down the isolated roads with ease. It would take at least an hour and half to arrive at the state prison and during that time, Chance explained everything in great detail one more to so there wouldn’t be any misunderstandings. Rayne sat pissed at what was revealed, believing her sister was stupid for not walking away with the right person. But despite her attitude towards it, she couldn’t do much but just wait it out like everyone else.

“Jason,” Mrs. Banks called out upon meeting him in the same make shift conference room quite frequently. He stood, reaching to hug her and Rayne and gave Chance a handshake. Mr. Banks usually made his entrance fifteen to twenty minutes after they were all settled but nonetheless, they all waited, sitting in pure silence besides Mama Banks and Detective Jason’s sporadic conversation. A little after they all settled, the only entrance and exit door opened, revealing two men. One, an officer and Mr. Banks trailing behind. Mr. Banks was definitely surprised to see not just his wife but his daughter and Chance as well as he went around greeting everyone. He immediately knew something must have went wrong if everyone showed up.

“What happened?” he asked sternly, locking his hands together.

Mrs. Banks decided to speak on what Chance had told her, just to save Chance if Mr. Banks possibly gets upset. “Good and bad news. Good news, Chance saw Bailey last night,” Mr. Banks face didn’t move a muscle. If his daughter was seen, why isn’t she in front of his face? “Bad news, she was with someone,”

“Someone like who?” he questioned.

“We don’t have a name right now, hunny,” Mrs. Banks spoke softly, hopeful that her tone will only lessen the blow to hearing such a thing. “Right now, there’s only a description of him,”

“What is it?” he gritted.

“The nigga is tall, muscular build, light skin…” Chance continued to be descriptive as possible, so Mr. Banks had a great mental picture. Mr. Banks continued to stare at Chance and once he finished talking, he still remained quiet. He wanted to be joyous that his daughter was seen somewhere but that was irrelevant if his daughter wasn’t in front of him. “I really don’t know why she was out with him to begin with. It appeared to be a date,”

“Is that what she called it?” he asked bitterly.

“Nah, but-“ Chance began but Mr. Banks interrupted him before he could say anymore.

“So, it wasn’t a date,” he declared sternly. If his daughter didn’t call it that, it definitely isn’t one and not only that, she’s technically missing and the last thing on her mind is dating. Or is it? “So, you saw her and what happened exactly?” he questioned again, attempting to really clarify what was being told to him because for some reason, it seemed hard for him to believe.

“She didn’t want to leave,” That seemed to be the only important message Chance got out of his encounter with Bailey. Ever since Bailey transferred to NYU, he’s always known her to be truthful and obvious. You would easily know when something is wrong with her because she shows it; whether intentional or unintentional. However, he wasn’t sure whether or not she trulywanted to leave or she was just acting as if she rather stay due to whatever fear was put in her. Either way, he didn’t see any good in any of this madness. If it was the former, Bailey would be stupid for wanting to stay but if it was the latter, then he felt truly sad for her. “She said to tell everyone she was alright, but I doubt that’s the case,”

“Agreed,” Mr. Banks mumbled, nodding his head.

“Oh, and her name is Kennedy, at least that’s what the guy called her,” Now, Mr. Banks sat completely perplexed. A new name would only mean one thing and that meant a new identity. Why would someone need a new start? Well, if they’re kidnapped they would; that’s for sure. But for Bailey, not Kennedy, to be walking around as if she’s not was a question they all had in mind.

“I don’t like the sound of any of this shit,” Mr. Banks said, clenching his jaw involuntarily. “My daughter doesn’t want to leave wherever the fuck she at? Fuck the consequences, if she home, she’s fine!” he yelled, becoming irate. On the one thing his daughter chooses to be stubborn on, it’s her own kidnapping. There had to be more to the puzzle that Mr. Banks just wasn’t picking up on. “You got any news, Jason?”

“Actually, I do,” he stated with confidence. “This Adrian fellow you’ve guys been talking about I found out some interesting information regarding him. As you know, he was involved with Ryan but Ryan claims to know only certain information about him or at least, what he knows. But besides that, he has stated that there is some type of vendetta he’s holding against Ryan and Bailey was the target after all of that,” Mr. Banks nodded, remembering Ryan’s words a while back. “Adrian has a record. Not too steep, surprisingly, but a record nonetheless. He was just released from the state about a year ago, but he’s been remaining low key,”

“Did he follow up with any of his parole officers?” Mr. Banks asked.

“For the first three months that were required. That was it,”

“Anything after that?” he questioned with a follow up question.

“No involvement with the law. The location of where he listed his residence, he actually doesn’t live there. He’s renting fake space,” He put in simple terms.

“Any relatives out in New York?”

“Mother, sister and nephew,”

“No father?” Mrs. Banks spoke up for the first time in a while.

“Uh, of course. But there is no visible communication; no apparent reason either,”

“And what about this sister of his?”

“She has the quite the history. Her son had been kidnapped,”

Everybody looked in the direction of the detective, their faces showing complete interest and giving their undivided attention. “How?”

“It’s uncertain right now but for sure the child was in the father’s possession,” Little did they know the father was the one on the date with Bailey. They would soon though. They were so close but yet so far away. “I’m going to do a background check on him as well. Anybody is a possible contender and could potentially have a part in this. And while I’m at it, I’ll also start looking for people with those descriptions you gave of, Chance,” Everyone nodded but Mr. Banks mind was still running with theories and possibilities.

“Do me a favor. Get in contact with his mom,” Mr. Banks declared. “Don’t make it obvious but don’t let her get away without finding out something,” Detective Jason nodded. Lucky for the Banks clan, he had already managed to get information and locations on where the mother currently resides. From what he’s read, she’s unemployed but benefiting off of real good income that is supplied by her ex-husband and she’s known to be a socialite among the crowd of New Jersey. It would be nothing to talk to her since she seems to be nosy in the first place.

“Done,” What Mr. Banks didn’t know is that as soon as the word done was said, Detective Jason immediately headed in the direction of the address he was giving to by a fellow peer, entering into Camden, New Jersey. He neatly maneuvered around the driveway and parked behind a feminine looking baby blue BMW. He then looked up at the decent size home and nodded. She’s probably the only one who lives there, and it would make sense to live in less space. Fixing his attire with ease, he began to approach the cobblestone door and pressed the dark colored doorbell.

Mrs. Andrews, taking on the last name of her ex-husband, was alternating between watching a rerun of the Real Housewives of Atlanta and trying to complete Fifty Shades Darker. She was having a relaxing day thus far with minimal contact from the outside world. Today, she actually liked it that way. The sudden ringing of her doorbell didn’t faze her or made her jump, but she did question who that could be. Maybe it was G, her ex-husband. But when he usually stops by, he comes straight in because he currently still lives here. Dropping her book on the glass table, Adrian and Justine’s mother walked towards the main foyer, noticing a shadow standing on the opposite side. He was tucked in a nice crème suit. Hmm, Mrs. Andrews hummed to herself.

She unlocked the door before pulling it open to reveal the person clearer. Before she had a chance to open her mouth, he beat her to the punch and smiled while talking. “Hi there. My name is Detective Jason and I have a few questions concerning your children or more so child, Adrian,” Mrs. Andrews instinctively grew defensive because she wasn’t sure what the purpose of this man was. Although Mrs. Andrews doesn’t have the best relationship with her son or daughter, that didn’t mean she would totally neglect them. She’ll try time and time again regardless and in this instance of the illegal things Adrian decides to do every once in a while, she was going to do her best in covering it up.

“Oh, I see,” she nodded, leaning against the doorframe. “As in right now?”

“Presumably,” he said, taking a glimpse inside her lavish house.

“Sure,” She opened the door wider and stepped out of the way, allowing him entrance. The trail of cologne swept past her nostrils as he made his ascent across the threshold. Mrs. Andrews peaked outside the door and stared at his car. He could do better, she thought. Closing the door behind her, she led him in the direction of the kitchen, not bothering to offer him anything to drink or eat. Why feed someone something when they’re only using you to benefit for themselves? However, that didn’t stop Mrs. Andrews from heating up last night’s lasagna and grabbing a cold bottle of water. “So,” she went on, staring at him with a blank expression. “How can I help you?”

“Questions concerning your son, Adrian. How is he?” Mrs. Andrew gave him the side eye, knowing that he was going to do this reverse psychology type of thing. She’s been around this way too long to know what not to do and what not to say. It’s common sense but common sense is rare.

She gave him a tight smile. “He’s fine… better,” she elaborated.

“He was just released a year ago from state prison, correct?” he said.

“I’m pretty sure since you claim to be a detective, you would already know that. So, questioning me would be trivial,” she said casually, shocking the hell out of him. He was definitely taken aback but masked it well.

“The need of clarification is very important,” Detective Jason said. He could tell this wouldn’t be an easy one so whatever he asked would have to be more complex in order for her to lack a witty comeback as such. “And FYI, I need your cooperation,” Mrs. Andrews smirked, nodding her head in the process.

“Of course,”

Adrian

There was only one thing I felt the need to do before hopping my ass on my private jet. Ever since the bombing incident, I stuck to using rentals and hiring a personal driver to chauffeur me around so the chances of anyone catching me slip is low; especially being that it was Ryan that did it. Who else could it have been? It had to be at least two hours after everyone had departed for T&C and although everyone fought me on wanting to come along, I couldn’t just yet. I’d be there anyway, just not leaving the same time as them. “Right here is fine,” I spoke up, unlocking the door myself. I didn’t wait to see whether or not he verbally responded back because it didn’t matter; he knew what the fuck his job consisted of. Bypassing the multiple doormen, I traveled up the stairwell towards the seventh floor.

I dug into the front pocket of my True Religion jeans, pulling out a key. I inserted it into the lock and turned the key to the right, hearing it unlock without a hassle. I opened the door wider and took note of all the lights that were currently off, but a reflection of the television was made clear for me to see. I know for a fact this bitch is here. Shaking my head, I treaded towards the kitchen, flicking the closest light switch on. I grabbed the largest pot I could find and filled it with ice cold water. While the water ran into the pot, I made my way towards the bedrooms in the back, pulling each open as I went.

In the master bedroom laid Elsa and a nigga I did not know. Well, damn. It takes her no time to jump on the next dick. Chuckling lightly, I returned back to the kitchen with the pot filled of ice cold water. Niggas was ‘bout to do the ALS challenge, shit. Treading slowly towards the bedroom, I made sure not an ounce of water was wasted on the way there. Elsa was looking too fucking comfortable right now as if she had the perfect life she found on her own when it was in fact me, who supplied her with it. This crib she up in, I paid the rent for. Half the shit in her closet is with my money but I’m not sleep.

“You were thirsty for me ‘bout a month ago. Here’s some water for you and your nigga,” I muttered, making sure to dump the cold water on her and his frame. With quick reflexes, both of them jumped up with yelps coming from their mouth as they stared around like deer caught in headlights while they panted heavily. An accomplished grin appeared on my face. I turned on the lamp, noticing that both of them were trying to make out my figure. “What a pleasant surprise,” I said, taking a seat in the corner of the room where a comfortable chair was located.

“Adrian!?” Elsa shouted, ridding the water off of her face with her hand. The nigga that was lying right beside her seemed to tense, almost as if he was gon’ square up against me.

“Stay the fuck still, nigga. I don’t know you, you don’t know me. Don’t say shit, won’t be shit, alright?” I said, holding the gun to his eye level. Looking in the direction of Elsa, I motioned for her to get up. She looked quite fearful and that’s exactly what I want. But being that she knows better, she threw the covers off of her damp body and slowly crawled out of the bed. “Come here,” I instructed, pushing her in front of me. She stumbled before catching her footing.

“Adrian, I-I can explain,” she stuttered.

“Oh, so you have something you need to confess to me, huh?” I chuckled bitterly. She was no good from the fucking start. I knew there was a reason why I wouldn’t commit to her and not only that, I should have stuck to my gut instincts and never allowed this bitch into my crib.

“What? No,” she quickly backpedaled.

“Too late,” I gritted, grabbing a hand full of her hair. “I should make you give me head. Your mouth was always great. Any fucking way, tell me how you know ‘bout Bailey’s pops? No need to lie, I already know the truth. I just need to hear it from your mouth,” I didn’t know but she’d never know that, and she wouldn’t dare question how truthful I was either.

She was definitely trembling and stalling over this shit. The sooner she let me know, the quicker I could be out. I didn’t have any set ideas in what I could do to her after any of this is out in the open, but I’ll find someone to handle that shit. I got too much on my plate as is and Elsa is the least important factor. “Y-your mother,” she cried. I stared at her in confusion; what the fuck my mother got to do with anything? I barely talk to the bitch; she shouldn’t be a factor. I waited for her to elaborate. “I ran into her at Whole Foods. I asked if we could talk and she agreed to do lunch with me,” My eyes closed momentarily as my mind drifted off to Austin’s homecoming.

I didn’t even meet your mother, her words echoed throughout my mind. She was the most interested in meeting my mom and she was trying to the whole night and I stopped that completely. Now, when I’m not around she had the perfect opportunity and ran with it. Fuck! “For what?!” I barked.

“I-I wanted to get to know her,” she muttered.

“And by doing that, what the fuck did y’all talk about?”

“You the whole time,” she said as tears continued to fall down her face. “Your mother was the one to bring up Bailey to me. She thought that we were in a polygamous relationship and wanted answers,”

“And?” I asked, urging for her to tell me what I really wanted to know. If she was taking this in the direction I was thinking of, there would be more than one person I would be cutting off permanently. There’s just been too much fuckery in opening up old wounds.

“She told me about Bailey. Well, I asked and she told,”

“So what else do you know!?” I asked harshly, gripping her forearm.

“That’s all, Adrian! That’s all she told me about her. That’s all she would,” Clenching my jaw, I ran through a list of possibilities that my mother could have went to in order to get such information. Not many people knew; hell, it was just the guys and I that did and most of them my mom stayed away from. But that’s beside the point. If it came to the point where my mother was talking to one of my boys’, I would have been heard about it. I needed to talk to my mother but the question of whether she would cooperate with me or not would be a different story. She would only open her mouth if it benefited her. And for the mere fact that I hadn’t talked to her in a minute would only give her ammunition to hold things from me. But who could my mother possibly be talking to?

It was always one thing after the other of this never ending bullshit.

Third Person Perspective

“Stay in the room, alright?” Ryan’s voice was deep, showing off how stern he was currently being. Time was cutting close and he had no time to fuck around. As much work he thought he was putting in was doing some good, he wasn’t where he needed to be, and Mr. Banks let him know that whenever he had the chance to meet up with him or when his lawyer was given the chance to give Ryan that very message. Jessie stared back at the soon to be father of her unborn child. The fact that she had to be secluded away from everyone else, almost as if she was to remain a secret, did in fact hurt her feelings. Through all the good Jessie has done for him and now he can’t even reciprocate the same love? That was bullshit.

“And do what? Watch T.V. till I die of boredom? Why can’t I go outside and sit on the couch? I won’t be a bother,” she attempted to plead.

Ryan knew better than to allow Jessie to step out, only because he knew that it would cause great confrontation from a certain someone. “Naw, stay put. I’ll check up on you periodically, alright?” Jessie huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and turning the other way from his face. It was just like him to do this shit. She honestly didn’t see how Bailey could put up with him for such a long time and with that immediate thought, she began to feel guilty, especially with the circumstance Bailey’s in. Jessie isn’t completely innocent, but Ryan is definitely at fault for allowing things to progress the way they did. “Don’t be like that. You know the deal,” Ryan sighed, stepping out of the room and closing the door behind him.

Jessie is not what he wants at all. Now, he’s potentially stuck with her for at least eighteen years and the idea of him being a father first off scared him. However, what he does want isn’t even near him and he knows that there is a low possibility of Bailey and him reuniting even if she did come back. “Who was you talking to back there?” Xavier asked, propping his Converse clad feet up on the table in front of him. Ryan sighed harshly, loathing the fact that Xavier seems to be here every fucking day. Xavier doesn’t have to be here as much as he is but knowing that it bothers Ryan, he’ll do it just to irritate him even more. It works so why not continue?

“Nigga, none ya fucking business. You ain’t paying the phone bill, damn,” Ryan said, plopping down in his lazy boy.

“Why? You need help? You slackin’?” Xavier questioned, just to get under his skin. Ryan sucked his teeth and ignored Xavier, but Xavier had something on his mind still. “So, you got to do your car bombing and shit, now what?” Xavier’s purpose was to really look over Ryan and make sure that he’s doing what he’s supposed to. If Ryan makes a mistake, it’s on him. Xavier can tell him otherwise on something not to do but won’t enforce it; because at the end of the day, Xavier will do as he pleases, and Ryan will do the same. One has a better method and that method shall prevail.

“Well, I just wanted to see if they would react and what it would be,” Stupid, Xavier thought.

“And?”

“Nothing has happened,”

Xavier began to chuckle. “Know why? These niggas ain’t threatened,” Ryan attempting to do something out of his element was an amateur doing a professional’s job. It was ludicrous. “They’re not going to retaliate off of that. Trust, if they were, they would have done something by then,”

Ryan’s plan for the car bombing was to simply bomb it and see what would be the reaction of that. If it wasn’t obvious before but this is a whole different ball game than being a hit man. You would think Ryan would connect it somehow and make it work, but it’s been a struggle and the only way something will happen that’ll push these two forward is by Xavier doing most of the heavy work. That’s exactly why Mr. Banks called on Xavier to get the job done. Mr. Banks could no longer trust Ryan. If this was all up to Xavier, he would simply and easily use what resources he knows and meet the nigga head on. What’s with all this procrastinating Ryan does, he thought. That shit isn’t working, and it doesn’t seem like he has any motivation to change it either.

“You’on know these niggas,”

“You worked with the nigga and you still can’t catch him,” Xavier retorted with a smug look.

“Shut the fuck up,” Ryan snapped. It’ll only be a matter of time before these two go blow for blow with one another. Before Ryan had the chance to say something smart back, the doorbell had rung. He stood up and trailed towards the front of the house. Ryan had his good friend Lonnie swinging by. Usually, they would meet up at the club or at a bar and go out for a round of drinks, but Lonnie immediately put that to an end when he said being in public was the last place he wanted to be. Lonnie and Ryan knew each other from way back. They ran in the same circle for a few years before actually speaking to one another one day. Turned out they had more similarities than what they thought initially, since they both came from different backgrounds. “Aye!” Ryan expressed, opening the door but the smile on his face dropped soon upon noticing the bruises along his friends’ face. “Damn, who fucked you up?” he questioned bluntly.

He stepped aside, allowing him entrance. “Got into a fight with my baby mama brother,” he grumbled, still bitter about what transpired.

“Damn, bruh,” Ryan mumbled. Ryan doesn’t know much about Lonnie and his child because it wasn’t a topic they spoke on often for obvious reasons. They rather leave that in the past where it belongs. However, Ryan does know what connection or lack of, Lonnie shares with Adrian. You would think that would be of some use to Ryan but since Lonnie doesn’t share any sort of friendship with Adrian, he wouldn’t know shit. “What exactly happened?”

“Shit, give me a beer and I’ll tell you everything,” Lonnie said, staring down at his phone that cracked during the scuffle.

“Got you. Just to let you know, I got company over here. Bailey’s cousin,” Lonnie nodded, not really having a clear account of Bailey. The name was familiar but he’s not too familiar with her face. Matter fact, the pair have never met. Bailey wasn’t interested in getting to know a majority of Ryan’s friends to begin with and she was way too busy with college during her first two years to socialize. However, Lonnie has met Kennedy instead.

“Cool,” After grabbing the three beers, Ryan introduced Xavier to Lonnie and vice versa. Xavier has never heard of this nigga but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be on his toes around him. The first thing he noticed with this nigga was the bruises on his face so that immediately told him that he was a rough character or else he wouldn’t be getting involved in fights.

“So, what’s been going on with you? I haven’t heard much from you in a minute,”

“Shit, I’ve been fucking with this chick for a while now. Not even something long term. Just for the moment type shit,” Lonnie muttered, dragging his hand over his face. Lonnie had the tendency to treat women below their worth but with Kennedy, he tried to do the opposite. He truly had nothing bad to say about her. She was genuinely a good girl, but his attitude and quick impulse did get in the way and maybe it was for the best of things. “I’ve took her out on dates and shit for about a straight month. Spent more money on her than I have on myself in a day alone. Yesterday night, I take her to Dave and Buster’s. I’m already in a shitty mood ‘cause of a deal that didn’t happen properly,” Yeah, Lonnie fucked with drugs. It was a quick scheme that made even quicker money. Who wouldn’t join? “My attitude really did reflect my behavior ‘cause I guess I was lashing out on her and she wasn’t feeling that,”

Ryan and Xavier both shook their heads, knowing that, that wasn’t anyway to act towards a girl especially if you were trying to get some pussy. “Shit, in my mind state, I was thinking sex would cure all issues. Naw, bruh. She wasn’t having that and made it seem like I was trying to rape her,” Xavier eyes widened, already growing a strong distaste for this one. Although Xavier could be a little rough around the edges, he would never push himself up on a female. It was never that serious.

Ryan on the other hand sat perplexed, not really sure how to respond to something like that. He didn’t think Lonnie would stoop that low with anybody. “Damn,” Ryan cursed.

“You apologized?” Xavier spoke up after clearing his throat.

“Haven’t had the chance. But the funny thing is, she ain’t answering any of my calls. Her phone is deactivated,” Lonnie gritted, anger seeping through his words. Lonnie might not have graduated with honors, but he has basic knowledge that no one can go wrong with. He explained how only a few hours later did Adrian come and confront him on a supposed rape and how he had this belief that Adrian was connected to Kennedy and this was all a set up and how the scuffle ensued. Lonnie left out the tidbit of Justine, but he saw nothing wrong in calling Justine his bitch because she’d always be his one way or another.

“Wait, what’s ol’ girl’s name?” Xavier asked. Ryan might not have picked up on anything, but Xavier sure did. This is something that’ll probably always separate and distinguish the two.

“Kennedy,” Lonnie said. The last time Xavier had spoken to his uncle was nearly a week back and they were finally moving along with the idea of Adrian being the main suspect now that they ruled out every other possibility and with Xavier being informed on Adrian’s ties to Lonnie, it definitely rose suspicion. Since Xavier hasn’t heard from him in seven days, anything could have changed, and new factors could have been added. Although this Kennedy chick Lonnie speaks of could potentially be irrelevant, it was someone in close ties to Adrian which could potentially lead them in the direction of Bailey.

Xavier simply nodded, leaving it at that. He pulled out his phone and toyed with it a bit before heading into his notes section. Since Ryan seemed oblivious to it all, it only made sense that Xavier move on his own terms. Fuck Ryan. Xavier captured a photo of Lonnie while the two fuck boys conversed. Xavier slipped away and headed towards the bathroom in the back and just as he was about to open the door, the door opened and revealed a girl a bit taller than Bailey. She looked shocked to see Xavier standing before her and immediately backed up. This was their first encounter, and this automatically told Xavier who she is. “Jessie,” he smirked, his eyes lowering to her stomach that was noticeable. He shook his head. “You sure Ryan the father?”

Bailey

“It’s so fucking hot!” Justine muttered, peeling her light pink cardigan off her body. The weather wasn’t even that bad, she just wanted to complain. The flight was a good four hours long, including a small delay but it wasn’t as bad as most flights I’ve been on. But since I took a nap on the flight, I wasn’t as tired as most and wanted to go out on the town and see what the people were like. So, Justine, Brian and August agreed to go along with as we ventured off into Cockburn Town which was the capital. Austin was too tired to keep up with us, so Justin and Caiden agreed to say back; truth is, they didn’t want to go out to begin with. But after a few hours socializing with the locals, we decided to head back to our Villa in Providenciales where we would be staying for however long.

“It’s really not,” August grumbled, taking the key out for our conjoined rooms. The Villa was absolutely impeccable. All rooms were different but held a certain theme, especially with the color scheme.

“You used to the southern hot weather, that’s why,” she said. I shook my head and followed into the Villa with a few bags in my hold. The idea of actually sleeping in my bed seemed amazing now that I had run out of energy. I trudged towards my room in the back and kicked the door open with my foot. The lights were turned off, but I thought nothing of it as I dropped the things I purchased onto the closest chair by memorization. Slipping out of my sandals, I traveled towards the large, fluffy bed. I would have made it there in a perfect stride if someone’s sneakers weren’t in my way.

“Fuck,” I cursed. I stared at the sneakers, only then realizing that it was Adrian’s. I quickly walked around the bed and towards the lamp, tugging on the string to light the room. “Adrian!” I squealed, jumping on the bed besides him. In true Adrian fashion, he groaned and turned over on his side. “Nuh uh. Wake that ass up! When’d you get in?” I grinned, moving so I could face him directly.

“No ‘hi, Adrian. How are you’?” he questioned sarcastically, running his hand down his face. He had no new bruises so that meant he wasn’t fighting. Good.

“We’ll get to that later,” I giggled.

“I came in ‘bout thirty minutes ago and knocked,”

“In my room?” I smirked.

“Naw, baby girl. This is myroom. We come here often so we got our own private section. They purposely put you in my room,” The smirk that was once on my face disappeared the moment he said that while he laughed as if something was funny.

“How nice,” I huffed, seeing that Justine, who was put in ‘charge’, did this purposely.

“Very nice,” he smirked, grasping my hips and pulling me on top of him. “How you like it so far?” he questioned as I placed my hands on his chest.

“It’s better now that you’re here,” I winked.

“I bet it is. We fucking here or naw?” he questioned causing me to gasp. I hit him in the chest playfully, but I knew he was dead serious. It’ll come eventually but not this very moment. I’m ready to sleep.

“What’d you do in New York?” I asked, completely swerving his question and burying my face in the crevice of his neck. He smelled of the same Ralph Lauren cologne that day I encountered him at the warehouse. At first, it was a scent I hated instantly, only because of how he had me shook but now it was something so intoxicating and I grew to love it on him. I wrapped my arms around him tightly, placing a kiss along his jawline.

“Not right now,” he said, pulling me closer. “I don’t want to rain on your parade like this,” I frowned and pushed back a bit, not amused at how secretive he just became.

“Alright,” I said, sliding off his lap and getting out of the massive bed. The bed shifted, and I heard him suck his teeth clearly before he evacuated the room. I don’t think I said or did anything wrong but if he chooses to remain mum on things - fine. I just hope it doesn’t involve me if that’s the case.

[ironmanrob]

Ironman uk 2021

My first DNF in a Ironman.

Superman, tickling a mans foot and Lego head.

Read all about it in my latest race report.

Bike strapped to the roof and off we go down the m62 after picking kids up from school, have I got my bike shoes, sure have it’s the first thing I packed this time round.

Got as far as Goole, obviously McDonald’s and the fact that a few drivers have warned me my bike is wobbling, checked the bike and I have no idea how it stayed on, luckily I add a few tie wraps and these had saved my machine, but my front side wall was damaged on my tyre so I had to jump on wiggle website to get one sent.

As you know my computer skills aren’t the best so they got sent to my home, Jen had to step in and get some sent to the premier inn we were staying at. Not a great start.

Had to rack before 4pm the following day but my tyres didn’t turn up till 3pm so a bit of quick turnover and managed to be last one racking for the day, then it was time for the big show, game of family 10pin bowling.

Now with my bad right wrist/elbow shoulder this was something I didn’t want flaring up the night before an Ironman but I can’t resist sport and a bit of competition my boys had the buffers up so all was to play for.

Obviously I smashed it and victory was mine with no sustained injuries, bonus.

Met Adrian and Ellen Messingham at the swim start and Adrian looked very lean and ready for battle, we started together as our swims times are similar, technically I was quicker by 14seconds but who’s counting?

The swim felt really good and I managed to get on a guys feet at around 600meters who was swimming well and straight he had green sleeves so easy to see, now and again I kept giving him a little tickle on his feet every 20 strokes or so, I think he liked it and was round the first 1900m in around 35ish minutes. Yea it’s not great but only 5 weeks early at Windermere I swam 1500 in 38minutes and I was toast so a huge improvement.

The last 1900m I jumped back in and thought I had lost green sleeves, he must be missing me by now, after 100 meters I was back on him and gave him a tickle so he knew I was back, we kept our bromance for a further 1000m but at the large orange bouy with 800m to go I got dunked a few times on the hips and legs which brought me to a standstill, I could no longer get back to green sleeves and we didn’t see each other ever again. I decided to just crack on and enjoyed those last 800m on my own I felt great and very fresh.

T1 was smooth ish but almost laughing getting shoes on as I was cramping a little bit so had to keep calm and take my time. Then it was time for the bike, the weather was perfect, warm and dry. I just got my head down and worked through the gears at super easy mode, even with this effort I was flying past everyone.

Settled in nicely for first 15mins then get on the nutrition which a snickers will do nicely, I eat them everyday so I know I can handle a few of these.

I was soon at 30miles in and just felt effortless then I saw Edwina from team Orion, she was so far up the field at this point I knew she was racing well we had a little fist pump with each other and off I went to carry on closing down everyone I could. From here it was around 20miles back to premier inn and another 5 more to transition to do another 2 laps to get the 112mile bike leg complete. At the premier inn all the family was there cheering me on but only for a split second as I was traveling around 30-35mph at this point, the weather was glorious but the forecast was grim.

During the second lap fatigue was starting to creep in on the climbs and the heavens started to open, conditions had changed dramatically and one needs to remove the aggressive Lego head and change for sensible Lego head but I must of missed that lesson at school and on sheep house just over the crest you build speed quickly then a massive right hander just over 90degrees, with the wrong Lego head, carbon rims which don’t work when wet and visor I can handle see through was a recipe for many athletes, me being one of them in the most spectacular fashion. I didn’t just crash I hit the bend so wrong and fast that I took off through the air my bike to the left of me and my body tilting towards the right from the momentum, fist in the air, yeah I’m superman. After 5-7meters of flying through the air like a super hero the ground came up and grabbed me. Arrrrrghhh, my shoulder hurt and I watched enough crashes to realise it’s probably a broken collar bone, but I’ll assess that in a minute. Another massive smash this time another rider had gone down I heard him hit the deck of the tarmac and some folks headed his was, I was no where to be seen I was so far away and in the under growth I became the invisible man. Right if this is a broken collar bone that means I won’t be able to get my arm over my head, I’ll test that theory when I get up and get to the other side of the road, if I stay here another idiot like me will kill me. I picked up the bike and visor and headed to safety.

At this point a couple of walkers described another crash they had seen at the bottom of the hill, it was getting dangerous out here now and I’m beginning to shiver. I needed to force my bars straight and try to dislodge the stuck brakes to get back on, I knew it would be tough to finish now as I still had another lap to do. Getting back on felt suicidal, I was breaking and picking up speed only going around 12mph but felt wrong so I unclipped my left leg and used my cleat as another brake, still bikes welt flying past and I was cringing.

Once down sheep house I pulled over for another assessment. With some help from supporters I got back on but inside I was done my new plan was to get warm ASAP and then go to medical the best way to do this was to ride 7miles back to premier inn and hope the family are there if not continue to medical tent at T2 further down the road. I calculated I would be bloody cold for 40ish minutes so I can handle that, luckily the family was there and we still had our room for 20mins so I went straight into the shower to get warm.

Jen drove me to the medical tent, I was dressed in Elaine’s clothes to get checked over. It’s maybe just maybe not the first time I have wore ladies clothes at the weekend but who’s counting. Strangely enough I looked identical to the character from little nightmares I was certainly having a Ironman nightmare this time. I was in good spirits at this point as it is what it is, I’m there to race my best and I’m on the edge a lot of the time, it was an error and that’s it albeit with serious consequences .

Marie Palframan was in medical and bless her she looked so down, she had pulled out as she felt it was too dangerous on the roads, I tried my hardest to make her feel better bless her and upon leaving Scott Palframan had also pulled from the race, he caught sight of Marie and that was the nail in the coffin for him on this event. There was silver blanket bodies and broken bikes everywhere it was certainly a sight you wouldn’t want to see again.

Now on to Edwina and Adrian, Edwina went on to win her Age group and 5th overall women which is outstanding result and Adrian well he well and truly spanked my rear end that’s for sure!

He finish 9th in his Age Group which is a potential roll down slot for the big Island and of course technically he was quicker then me but who’s counting!

The following day I went to hospital for an X-ray and I’ve not broken anything, I have a ligament problem at the AC point on my clavicle which has made my clavicle drop down. Basically means I’m in loads of pain and off work/sport for two months!

We’ll see about that thou as I have a busy day at work the next day.

[jahmusicandlive]

SubWoofers: It’s Showtime

The day was here. The day we had been building up to for seven months. The day that had caused endless stress, documents, and spreadsheets. The day that pretty much represented my input and effort of second year (I would say roughly 85% of any of the work I have done this year has been towards this event).

One thing I had already agreed with myself about a week prior to the event was that I was going to stay happy and positive. Generally I find this fairly easy, I tend to have a positive outlook in day to day life, however, I also know that once I allow my stress to work me up into a mess I struggle to get out of that spiral. I like to think that I did a pretty good job of staying happy, which doesn’t really sound like a job at all, but I think as a leader, if you’re smiling your team are more likely to, like a sort of reassurance that things are on track.

As requested I arrived later than the first group. My mum was generously offering her photography services to us and so she picked me up and drove me in for 8:30. Though I had offered, we both knew that her staying at my house wasn’t the best idea as my only downtime (sleep) needed to be comfortable and having another person to focus on wasn’t going to help that. I cannot explain how incredible it was to have my mum at the event, getting to see me in action. I am very close with her and always keep her updated on uni work, so she has been a part of this journey too. I also know from the past 20 years of my life that if I make my way into that stress spiral, there is one person who can ALWAYS get me out of it. Shout out to you mum, you are a living legend.

Anyway, I arrived at 8:30 (though that hadn’t stopped me being up since 5:30 checking documents and communicating with the early team to make sure everything was going according to plan) and went straight out to the field. The site actually looked like a festival site and I was BUZZING. This was also the first day that the whole team would be on site and I would be coordinating approx. 40 people. One of the tasks that I had an active influence on was the build and break roles, and basically deciding who needed to come to the site on which days. This is definitely something I would have changed in hindsight. We knew we would need people that were actually going to turn up and put the work in, but a few more bodies would have definitely made the process quicker and easier.

When security arrived on site I became two radios Jessie (see flattering picture below). At this point, I really had to get my head in the game, as not only did I need to focus on communicating with people in person, I also had two radios to listen to. Oh and not to forget my phone ringing every five minutes with calls from members of the team without radios. The staggered arrival times of team members meant the radio protocol had been mostly swept aside. Thought this didn’t cause any major issues there were definitely hiccups involving people cutting into other conversations or just speaking rather than using a call and response system (“Jessie to X”, “Go ahead”). One item mentioned in the debrief was that everyone should have arrived at the same time, with one briefing for all including health and safety, radio protocol, and any other information necessary.

The rest of the team arrived after 10 and were given the health and safety briefing. Then came the moment that made everything real… Alan (our course leader) turned to the group and said “Jessie is the event manager, Jessie is in charge, any questions go to Jessie and she will either answer them or send you to a person that can answer them”. In that moment I realised how much responsibility I had been given and how much was relying on me, but funnily enough it didn’t send me into a panic, instead, it got me pumped. It also reassured me that people would listen to me, as the day before I felt I struggled a little with enforcing instructions, so for everyone to have been told clearly (by someone of authority) that my instructions needed to be followed was a relief.

Though the arena was not due to open to the public until 1pm, myself, Jess (H&S coordinator) and Michele (THD CEO) were scheduled to carry out a final walk around at 12pm to ensure that all structures were safe and everything was in place ready to open. At around 11:50 I started running around, knowing fully well that there were still bits to do, however, it turned out that most of these tasks were reasonably small and could be achieved in a short time with the help of many hands. One aspect that was an issue, however, was the security. In the build-up to the event I had been responsible for arranging and liaising with security. When I met with the boss of the company I felt assured that they were event specialists and since the event target audience didn’t pose any major threats we chose to use their services. The reality was that, although the boss fully knew what he was talking about and the industry, most of his team didn’t. One or two of the on-site team were great, fully communicative and on top of it… the other were simply bodies. They didn’t have any clue about what was going on and within that there is definitely room for improvement on our part as their briefing clearly needed to be more in-depth, potentially even held a day or two before the event so that it didn’t clash with the madness of the on-site tasks. There was also an inability to follow simple instruction and in the end, it took the CEO going down and shouting at them for them to actually follow instructions. I understand that with it only being a one-day event, by the time you have your head around it, it’s almost over, however they felt very separated like they were their own little group and only their team leader would communicate with me, it didn’t feel like a coherent collaboration.

It was showtime! Generally, most things within the arena were running smoothly, the two areas that were a bit hectic were the box office and arranging the stewards. Though I was event manager I had fairly little to do with the box office as there were box office assistants, who were managed by the box office manager, who was managed by the logistics coordinator, and so there were already people capable of making the decisions and adjustments necessary to improve the situation. When it came to arranging the stewards Remely (staffing coordinator) was on boss mode. Having made the stewarding rota I knew what the plan was, however as we found out, rotas completely change on the day when volunteers drop out and problem areas need more help and attention. There were a handful of times that Remely called me asking for assistance or advice on who to move where, but other than that I felt comfortable in the knowledge that she was on top of it and props to her because it’s an insanely difficult job.

Once most people were through the gates the day was in full swing and everyone seemed to be really enjoying themselves. I’ll set the gif (below) speak for itself. I ended up making multiple radio calls along the lines of “does anything need doing, are there any issues anyone needs help with” because my team were doing their jobs so efficiently.

As the final act performed everyone managed to find 10 minutes or so to experience the show. Some of the team went on the rides, others just sat down in the sun for a bit. I was walking near to the main stage as saw my mum dancing to Ska Souls - This may seem like nothing to some people, but I usually have to drag my mum onto the dance floor and build up her confidence to let go and have a proper boogie, so to see her doing this by herself made me unbelievably happy - and so I had no option but to go and join her for a dance. Little did I know that Dan captured a few seconds of it (and probably doesn’t realise how much this footage means to me).

Once that moment was over I had to round everyone up in the production office to go over breakdown roles. Before I could start, Remely got everyone’s attention and ended up giving me a little thank you speech. My production team got me two bottles of spiced rum (my drink of choice) and a card. I cannot put into words how thankful I am to have been blessed my team members. Though some struggled to find motivation at times, we all came together and smashed it! Thank you to all my production gals (that includes you, Michael) for making my life so much easier, I couldn’t have coped without you guys. And while I’m here thanking people, let’s chuck a thank you over to the other team leaders. Without our weekly meetings and communal stress rants, I don’t think we’d have pulled off this event. You guys were my stability through this rollercoaster and I can’t wait for us to work together in the future, cause I know that whatever we do together, we’ll smash it!

Now I am aware this post is getting fairly long now, so it’s lucky that the breakdown on the day was a fairly swift process. Once everyone’s roles were allocated it was GO! GO! GO! (This was definitely helped by the fact that once we were finished we knew we could rush home and go out to the final night of Festiball). During this time I was pretty much just overseeing everything. The main issues involved the vehicle egress. Because so much planning had gone into the placement of stewards during the event, the post-event placement had been given less attention. In reality, more stewards were needed throughout the exit route, as well as more signage (In a larger font size). Within this egress route, more attention should have also been given to traders, as it was a one-way system it became difficult for them to get back onto the field from the parking area. All problems were solved but we were all so focused on the show itself and the breakdown that the egress definitely should have been looked at in more detail.

Though there were many other highlights and hiccups, this post is already longer than anyone wants it to be, so I will finish up here. One last thing I must write is to Alan. Alan dropped the bombshell on us a few days before the event that he would be leaving the university at the end of this term. Now, if you had told me this a year ago, I would have been concerned for the future of my course, but I wouldn’t have been particularly personally affected. Over the past year (the past 5 months in particular) I have grown to have the biggest respect for you and I am truly gutted that you are leaving. You have done so much for this course and this event and I know that in the future I will look back knowing that you will have had a major impact on my work ethic and my career, so again, thank you so much.

[dixonspeaker-blog]

6th Grader’s Weren’t Allowed to Play Sports

By Dixon Speaker

For Paulette Speaker

6th graders weren’t allowed to play sports. That was the rule. Maybe they wanted us focusing on the radical transition from elementary school, where one teacher taught all subjects in one single classroom, to the middle school format where 8 different teachers taught their own specialized subjects in 8 different classrooms. This was difficult, especially for young boys who latch onto any new distraction like rodeo clowns to a loose bull. Or maybe the reason was something simpler, like they didn’t want us playing contact sports with 8th graders who were significantly more developed than us. In football, for example, the middle school league was called “The Unlimited League,” as in, wow, that guy who is about to hit Dixon looks like he weighs unlimited pounds. I did play Halfback in high school, and during one game a missed down block by our center created a free sprinting lane for Garnet Valley’s 315-pound nose-tackle. I’ve never been struck by a moving car but this was the closest thing to it. Anyway, regardless of the reasoning, the rule they had was no sports, so everyone in 6th grade had to find other things to do. For me this created a problem. I played a lot of sports growing up. You could say my life was made up of finding ways to pass the time between games. Most 6th graders just went home and played with their brothers or sisters. This wasn’t an option for me. I didn’t have any brothers or sisters. I still don’t. On top of that, both my parents worked full time: My Dad travelled 3-4 days a week selling purified natural gasses while my mother worked until 6 o’clock at night as an executive in a furniture company. So every day after school I took the bus to Mom Mom’s. Mom Mom’s house was located literally on the edge of a cliff, sandwiched on the other side by a busy highway that she would never dream of letting me cross alone to seek out comrades in the surrounding neighborhoods. I was therefore left to occupy myself at Mom Mom’s cliff-side abode, which had several acres of fenced-in backyard to run through, but no other children to share it with. There was only so much a 12 year old child interested in sports and videogames and a 70 year old woman who grew up with a pet raccoon could do together before they both got bored. I had to find something to do with my time, and what I decided to do was to try out for the school play (This was allowed. No sports, but any and all other after school activities were acceptable). The play that year- the “fall drama” as they called it- was an adaptation of The Little Rascals.  You can guess what the play was actually about, because I don’t remember. I was not an actor. I was never in a play before. No one in my family had any type of performance background. In fact, the only time I remembered stepping foot inside a theatre was once when I was very young. A bearded man in a yellow costume darted across the stage and terrified me down to the most central whispers of my being. I cried so hard my mother had to take me home early. A picture of that man remains vivid in my memory, even today. I joined the play anyway. I had a The Little Rascals movie on VHS tape that I would watch from time to time. Also, trying something foreign and failing badly still outweighed spending every day after school alone watching Disney in a dark corner of Mom Mom’s house. Now, before trying out for the play you have to think about trying out for the play, which was much more stressful than the tryouts themselves. Being in the school play was not considered “cool” by any standards, something I was very much concerned with in 6th grade. Middle school was a weird time for me. There was a lot of figuring out who I was and who I wanted to be going on, and I knew precious little about either. What others thought of me, how I appeared, was something that consistently occupied my thoughts. It was this type of thinking that lead to the events of this story. The day before tryouts I was approached by one of the deans, Mr. Sag. We locked eyes across the hall. I knew that I was toast. Mr. Sag was old, so old that he actually taught both of my parents when they attended that same middle school many years before. Pennsylvania teachers got generous pension benefits, at least they did back then, so it was common to see strange old men like Sag in schools throughout the state. He shouted my last name as he approached me. Speaker! I didn’t say anything, just stared up at him and blinked. He was a big man. His face was a slab of wet meat hanging in a butcher shop. I heard you’re trying out for the play he said. Well, I was, you know, just thought I. His eyes fired up and he took a step closer. His head blocked all the light in the hall. He took a deep breath before he spoke. Are you an athlete, or are you some thespian? Spit flew out of his mouth in all directions. He stomped off without waiting for a response. I turned slowly just in time to see the back of his enormous head bob down the stairs and out of sight. Students were walking all around me but I might as well have been standing alone on the moon. I was impressionable and crushed to pieces. I sat quietly through the rest of my classes without answering any questions or writing a single note. I went straight to the bus after school. At Mom Mom’s I ate a TV dinner and watched Disney in the dark until my mom picked me up at 6. In the car I told her I had changed my mind. I didn’t want to try out for the play anymore.

Halfway through school the next day I changed my mind again. Screw Sag, I was trying out for that damn play. When the 2:30 bell rung I talked a bit with my friends and by three I was headed to the auditorium. It felt strange to walk the empty halls. Like I was in the same place only very far away. Another universe, maybe another time. How the tryouts went is unimportant. I forget what it is they made me do. I don’t remember rehearsing any lines, so I probably just had to read something. I got a speaking role but it wasn’t a big role and I wasn’t even a real Little Rascal. My character was just called Dixon. When the thing was over I walked down the hill to where the busses picked us up. These were called the “Five O’clock Busses,” and they had and different numbering and routing system than the traditional busses that took most of the students home at 3. The Five O’clock Busses were for kids doing activities. I asked around that day and found out what bus dropped me off closest to my Mom Mom’s house. I had not thought about being dropped off on the wrong side of the busy highway. You’ll soon see why that didn’t matter. As I stood there, a bus which was not my bus careened into the loop and stopped abruptly. The door swung open. I looked up into the bus and saw a large woman with long blonde hair wearing a baseball cap. Her hair was flying all around. She scowled down at me. I immediately recognized this woman. Her name was Millie. I knew her because she drove me to preschool and I was her first pick-up of the day. We grew close and even had a song we would sing together until we reached the second pick-up. In elementary school I turned heinous one day and she had to pull the bus over. We never spoke again until this day. She shouted at me to get in. Silently seated on that bus, bumping forward, hands in lap, the few seemingly minor decisions and the radical consequences they created began to set in. It went like this: The night before I told my mom that I was definitely not trying out for the play. So, to her, life would proceed as usual and I would take the bus home after school to Mom Mom’s. The next day I changed my mind- now this is key- and didn’t tell anyone. If something like this happened now the change of plans could be easily communicated through a simple text message. But when I was in 6th grade cell phones were just starting to be widely distributed, and I didn’t have one yet. So I stayed after school without telling a soul. It’s also important to know that I never did anything like this. I was a thoroughly responsible child, exactly where I was expected to be at the time I was expected to be there. You can imagine the shade that descended over my poor Mom-Mom’s heart when the bus pulled up to her house that day and she watched the doors swing open, then swing slowly closed, without her precious grandson exiting. Slamming shut, they sent an impossible sadness throughout her house and therefore her life as well. This set off a series of events that moved very quickly, all while I was sitting in the middle school auditorium waiting to read my lines. Mom-Mom called my mother and told her I didn’t get off the bus, and probably that she suspected someone snatched me and that I was more than likely dead. My mom, trying to remain calm, thought to herself that I just changed my mind about the play. She called the school to check. The ladies in the office told her they could call for me on the PA system and tell me to come to the office and they would call my mom back and tell her that I was all right. In many cases that would have been the end of it, but for reasons unknown, the PA system in the middle school couldn’t be heard in the auditorium, something both of the ladies in the front office were unaware of. So, when they called my mother back 20 minutes later with the news that I had not shown up, the assumption by all parties was that I was not in the school at all. This was when my mother began to panic. She quickly flapped her arms at her desk, something she does when scared. She called my dad, then Mom-Mom again, then the school again, then several friend’s houses where I could have been. When these searches turned up empty she called the school again and it was decided that all they could do was wait to see if I somehow turned up at The Five O’clock Busses, and if I did then Millie the bus driver, who knew both me and my Mom Mom, would make sure I got onto her bus and make a special one-time drop off at a road near Mom Mom’s house. If I didn’t show up at the busses I guess they would have called the police. As I got off the bus I saw Mom-Mom’s  El Camino sitting on the shoulder up the road like a cop car on a stake out. When I got home later that night there was a newly purchased cell phone sitting on the kitchen table. . . . This was one of many events I lived through while I was younger but couldn’t fully understand until I was older. I needed distance before I could evaluate the true emotional recourse of the thing. What I immediately thought was a gross overreaction I now look back on and view as a reasonable response. Of course they were going to worry. I’m their only son. My mom still tells me to this day, “I don’t have a replacement.” Even when all signs pointed to a non-event, pointed to the likelihood that I was safe, when intense love is present, it makes perfect sense to be attracted to that worst thing, to losing that love. I believe that’s what my mom and dad and Mom-Mom experienced that day, and over time I’ve learned to love them back for it. . . . I don’t know much about life, but what I do know is that it’s something like a river. You may see different sizes, shapes, speeds, but what’s certain is that it’s always flowing forward. To resist is a temporary exercise. Water finds its way. What I have also learned about this river is that although a great distance may exist between points, it can look quite the same. The beginning can resemble the end, the end the beginning. What one experiences now is not the only time the river may break in that direction. It returns to itself. At least I think it might. This is what I mean. In 2015 my Mom decided to move to Spain for a month. She wasn’t feeling particularly happy with her job, or possibly even her life (she never said this explicitly), so in the evenings she would click through Airbnb listings in Barcelona. She would even click the heart buttons, relegating them to her “favorites” so she could go back later, look at the pictures of Spanish rooftops, and for a few moments imagine herself living in a foreign land, and by extension inside a life filled with slightly more adventure. An exercise like this is probably common inside of American homes. Perhaps your mom or dad is doing it right now. And it would have forever remained an exercise if my cousin and I weren’t living with my parents at the time. My cousin was taking nurse anesthetist classes at Penn, so Monday through Friday she would stay with us in the suburbs and commute into the city by train. She slept in my childhood bedroom with a floor to ceiling baseball mural on the wall. With Cait around we would sometimes get into the wine during the week if we were bored. One of these nights we all ended up in my mom’s office, cups in hand, ooh-ing and ah-ing over saved Airbnb pages. There was one we knew was her favorite because she had shown us before, it had the best reviews, and the host spoke English. A few moments later she had her credit card out and was asking us both if she should just do it, to which Cait and I responded with a resounding yes. So she clicked the button and just like that she had a flat for a month in downtown Barcelona. My father wasn’t present for the booking and didn’t find out until several weeks later, and even then not from my mom’s mouth but from a girl I was dating at the time. It’s not that my mom didn’t want him to know, it’s that she had never done something like this before. She was waiting for the appropriate time to break the news. Well, my father didn’t get mad because he is a sweet, sweet man. Instead he decided to support my mom’s leap of faith decision by joining her for a week of the trip. When that happened I decided to join too. How it happened was both my mom and her sister would fly over and stay for a week. This was a big deal for my mom. She had never been outside of the country except for her honeymoon in Mexico and one time to Canada, and those don’t really count. Even though she didn’t admit this to me until her sister had left and she was alone for a week, I knew my mother was scared. Making big changes when you’re older has got to be scary for most people. It’s probably because you’re not as dumb as you were when you were younger and therefore not as invincible. The second week my mother would be alone, and I would fly in for the third week. The fourth and final week my dad would come and we would all be together as a family. When my father arrived she arranged for a car to pick him up at the airport and drop him off in front of the apartment. It was the same driver who dropped her and her sister off on the first day of their trip. There was an elevator in the flat but it was old and small so he carried his luggage up the stairs. When he entered he was out of breath. Rooms are scaled differently in Europe. You can tell if you see it. It’s as if everything was measured with a different ruler, which I guess is true. These optics, coupled with his outfit, a nondescript athletic material shirt from Walmart, a blank hat, cheap sneakers, all made him seem like even more of a gigantic white person than he already was. Like Gandalf inside Bilbo Baggins’s house in The Shire. Sweat poured down his face as he unpacked his bags. When he was finally settled in my mom laid out some olives and cheese and we drank wine and talked about our trips. It was still early and I had a few places I wanted to see downtown. There was a café where Hemingway and other Ex-pats supposedly drank, some church with interesting origins. We decided to part ways. I would head out on my own while they finished unpacking. They would see a few things and we would all meet back at the apartment for a short siesta. So that’s what we did. A friend told me that everyone should travel by themselves at one point in their life, but I forget why he said everyone should do it. I remember the afternoon being extremely quiet in a city full of noise. I talked to no one. Soon enough the voices of the city began to fade. I felt light and detached, like when I would go sit in my car during my break and stare out into the brown grass moving carefully in the wind. After a beer and a long sit in an alley that I could never find again, I headed back to the flat. Honestly, I missed my parents here, even if it had only been a couple of hours. I had reached a period with my parents that would last for a while longer but not forever. Like two planets coming into view every night for a few days across a warm and cloudless August sky. This is a period I hope everyone gets to experience with their parents but I’m afraid too many seldom do. A time where you are no longer too young but they’re not yet too old. When you can drink together, make jokes together. When no one takes themselves too seriously. With this thought I bounded up three flights of stairs, heart fluttering in my chest, full of hope. I flung open the door and when I saw their faces it was this same hope that came crashing down.  

She told me the story backwards, starting with the result: My father had been robbed. It happened right away. The entire afternoon while I was meandering narrow streets buzzed on pinkish wine, they had been dealing with crisis. After he unpacked they left the flat for the subway. They were going to the city center, possibly following the same route I had taken just one hour before. To get there you had to transfer lines at one of the busiest stations in the city. They boarded a car on the yellow line and were followed by a throbbing mass of bodies. Person after person squeezed into the car, bumping them, touching them, limiting the space in which they could not only stand but also even breathe. My mother was wise to the thieves of this city. She had all of her belongings inside of a zipped and clipped handbag lined with mesh steel. She could have used it to block a bullet. She had it tucked up into her armpit. Now, the extreme caution she took on her part she transferred to my father, but the focus fell on his physical well being instead of his belongings. As people smaller than him piled into the car, he stood there swaying like some giant who misplaced his mammoth. He looked at my mother and smiled. Hold on to something, she shouted, just before the train jerked forward. I’m sure she envisioned him toppling over as the car took motion. He was in the middle surrounded by bodies, so he grabbed onto the only thing he could, the ceiling rack above his head. The car rounded a soft curve. Bodies and limbs pressed against him like a lung. The car came to a stop, the doors opened, and the throng of people leaning against him (all small women, incidentally) filed out of the car. The doors closed and the subway continued. My father’s wallet, which had been held in a zipper pocket of his cargo shorts, was gone. He felt its absence as the car left the station. And that was that.   My dad alerted my mom, who stood in shock as the last week of her trip exploded in her mind. They rushed not home but to the Barcelona Crowne Plaza. My dad had memorized its location before stepping foot onto the plane. He was a Holiday Inn rewards member, and inside a network hotel he felt more comfortable, he felt at home. Without acknowledging those working at the reception desk he marched directly to their business center where he used their phone and internet services to cancel his credit cards and place alerts on all of his accounts. He printed out pictures of sensitive documents he had emailed himself before the trip. On his way out he did acknowledge the staff, but only to ask them to call a cab for him and my mother who had been sitting quietly in the lobby, still very much in shock. They bought several bottles of wine next door before both trudging up the steps to the flat to drink and forget. To try their best to, anyway. This is how I found them. As they told me this story emotions grew inside of me. Not sorrow, not fear or panic. What grew was an overwhelming sense of frustration. Not in them, but in myself, at the thought that if I wasn’t off on my own, if I was just with them watching, this could have all been prevented. And as we sat there for a few more hours, as my mom and I poured glass after glass of wine, as dad moved from counter to couch and slowly fell asleep, whatever energy or forces that existed between the three of us changed. What I saw and felt were not two people who for 25 years existed as protectors. What I saw for the first time were vessels of some new responsibility. . . . My father recovered from the robbery and was able to enjoy the rest of the trip. I was extremely proud of him for this, another new emotion. Two days later they were off on their own again. We were to meet in a central plaza at two o’clock. At 10 minutes past they still hadn’t shown up. I began to sweat. I kept looking at my phone even though I had no service. Dreadful scenarios formed in my head. But as my mind raced I saw them turn the corner, smiling and holding hands. I told myself to relax. I told myself that they would be okay and I began to believe it. Would I continue to worry? Of course. But I knew it was an emotion I could learn to accept. On the second to last day of the trip I took the subway to the far north end of the city, the last stop on the purple line, and I went to the beach. I spent the day laying in the sand reading Charles Bukowski stories on my Kindle. A very old couple placed their bags next to mine. The woman put on a white swim cap and they waded into the shallow waves to perform calisthenics. I finished my book and when I looked up again the old man and the old woman were dancing hand in hand along the shore. There was no music, just the roar of the breakers slowly crashing at their feet. I looked at the couple and I thought that to worry was not so bad, because behind that worry were embers of love. As I looked down the beach I saw myself dancing, real slow, very old. And what I felt again was hope. Hope that one day, when my parents are gone, when my aunts and uncles are gone, there may just be some youngster sitting on some faraway beach, listening to the sounds of the same waves, worrying about me too.  

[glaringapollo]

30 Day Warden Challenge

(But all at once)

1. Basics. A basic profile of your Warden.

Hireth Surana - 17/20 - Circle Mage (Dalish parentage) - Lawful Good - Elemental Magic

2. Appearance. Write a detailed description of your Warden’s appearance.

Standing at about 5′1″, he’s a frail looking boy with soft hands. His nose is broad and a little flat, classic elf bridge with two moles just under his eyebrows (which are pretty bushy themselves). A bit awkward looking with an overbite, soft jawline, and big ears (left ear has a mole as well). His hair is a deep brown, that he grows out over the course of the game. Also over the course of the game he gets; two scars on his jaw and one on his ear from the Archdemon, some scars across his knuckles and a gash in his left leg from his fight with Loghain (giving him a slight limp now but he has his staff for support).

3. Personality. Write a detailed description on your Warden’s personality.

NO idea how the real world works, he stumbles a lot and is naive and gets taken advantage of. A really soft spoken boy, he doesn’t smile very often, dealing with depression and anxiety. His main aspirations are to be happy and feel stable, which he puts aside to focus on others happiness as a Warden feeling it his punishment and atonement for helping Jowan. As a result of being unable to find his own happiness- he is a firm believer in others living their lives the way they like as long as it doesn’t harm others.

He only raises his voice twice, once when encountering Jowan again, and another at the Landsmeet with Loghain.

A bit self depreciating, but he’s very loyal to his friends and tries to support them as much as he can- always trying to do little things for them. Lacking a bit of empathy with certain emotional issues though, having trouble understanding struggles with family having not really known his own enough to miss them. Sometimes even when he knows he’s being taken advantage of, he still allows it to happen if it doesn’t hurt anything (the Alienage elves asking for money constantly). A bleeding heart for peoples struggles.

4. Companions. Describe your Wardens relationship with each member of their party.

Alistair - First love, quite possibly his only and last as well. Alistair’s the first person he felt a real connection to, and he clings to that connection for dear life. They don’t always see eye to eye, but they never let that interfere with their friendship. He puts his complete trust in Alistair, and would almost certainly die for him.

Leliana - Best friend! They’re both devout and relate on that point, he likes her stories, and she’s a positive person to lean on. One of the few people who can make him laugh. She is usually the one that tries to uplift his self-esteem when he’s down- he’s not sure how he feels about her past with violence, and her choice to continue pursuit of Marjolaine but they do keep in contact periodically as the years go by.

Wynne - Basically his mom/grandma, since she’s from the circle she’s known him from the start. She knows more about his past and his upbringing, and tries to continue to coax him towards being more confident in his abilities.

Shale - Despite their rocky start (pun intended) Shale’s surprising loyalty quickly won Hireth over- and his quiet company won Shale’s in return. His dedication to his cause really helped Shale warm up to him, and soon they even became a bit protective of him. Any time he gets info to help Shale return to being a Dwarf he sends it to them- wishing them the best.

Zevran - Their friendship is one built on the fact that they must trust each other. They disagree on a lot, but Zevran must trust that Hireth won’t get rid of him- and HIreth must trust the same. His flirting makes Hireth a little uncomfortable, but he doesn’t say anything on the matter.

Sten - Sten makes Hireth nervous, and while he started out wanting to befriend the Qunari- it ended with him seeing the other as nothing more than something akin to a coworker. They each had a job to do and would part ways once it was done. Their personalities just didn’t mesh well.

Oghren - Made Hireth uncomfortable, and Hireth is also the worst wingman fyi. The drunkenness was off-putting and he avoided prolonged talks with the man, but he knew the Dwarf didn’t necessarily have any ill will. Was actually a bit relieved to see Oghren in Awakening- having a familiar face was a comfort.

Morrigan - Despises her, and the feeling is mutual.

5. Romance. Who is your Warden’s romantic interest and why are they attracted to them? Describe their relationship. If your Warden has no romantic interest explain why.

He is so very gay, and Alistair is unfortunately not (tbh I do headcanon Alistair as pan (w/ a preference to women but not against dating other genders) but he’s also dense so they still don’t get together lmaooo).

6. Sexuality. What is your Warden’s sexual orientation? Describe your Wardens past sexual experiences [if any].

Honestly? Hireth never showed much interest in others as a teen. He is gay, and has had an odd crush or two but never anything really intense (I let characters develop as I play, and I thought he was going to be Ace before he saw Alistair and was just like “I wanna have sex w/ him” like boy CHILL).

7. Choices [Part One]. Describe your Wardens choices in the five main quests: Arl of Redcliffe, Urn of Sacred Ashes, Broken Circle, A Paragon of Her Kind & Nature of the Beast.

AoR - After shouting at Jowan (”No no, you MADE this mess and you’re fixing it!! You don’t just get to run away every time you have to face consequences, Jowan!!”), he enlisted the help of the Circle Mages (”I can fix it but it requires bloo-” “No.” “But--” No.”), and killed the demon (no deals for him).

UoSA - Fought that fucking dragon because I didn’t know you could skip it, of course he didn’t taint the ashes he’s A GOOD ANDRASTEAN BOY.

BC - Saved the circle, it’s his home and he actually liked it there...

APoHK - Sided with Caridan, seeing the Anvil as too cruel. He had Harrowmont put on the throne, seeing him as the more peaceful of the two (he hates Orzammar).

NotB - Managed to lift the curse and allow the elves to live.

8. Choices [Part Two]. Describe your Wardens choices later in the game: The Alienage, the Landsmeet and Morrigan’s ritual.

Alienage - Got rid of the slavers in the Alienage, refusing to deal with them and gave generously to the false beggars.

Landsmeet - Managed to get everyone on his side, he actually got increasingly angry with Loghain, even yelling at him for the shit he had pulled- when the challenge to duel was set, he agreed to be the one to fight Loghain not wanting to force anyone to fight his battles and worrying that Alistair’s anger would get the better of him. He was not able to execute Loghain however- and Alistair gladly did that one for him. He had brought up marrying Anora to Alistair but quickly defaulted when Alistair showed upset, not wanting to pressure him into anything.

Morrigan’s Ritual - [TW: Rape Mention - TL;DR vers Hireth did the Ritual with Morrigan] OK, so- due to the feel I got for Hireth and the way Morrigan’s wording came off, canonically for MY game Hireth was technically raped. While he did agree to the ritual, he felt guilted and blackmailed into it. Initially he put up a fight, accepting the fact that he will die, willing to give up his life to slay the Archdemon. Morrigan of course fought the decision, bringing up Alistair and the chances of Alistair being the one to give the final blow (”He IS a templar after all... you as a mage would be much further away, he’d have the higher risk.”) and pressuring Hireth to convince Alistair to sleep with her. Hireth refused, not wanting to force Alistair to do anything, let alone sleep with someone he hardly got along with- and Hireth gave in agreeing to the ritual.

He doesn’t like to think about it, for obvious reasons.

9. Motivation. Describe why your Warden made the choices they made during the Blight. Go into detail about who influenced them and how any key events from their past influenced them.

Hireth threw himself down as a servant to the people, he felt it his duty to completely be at the whims of the public and their needs. He feels guilty for assisting Jowan after it being revealed that he really was a blood mage, he also humbles himself incredibly once he finds out that jealousy is what drove Jowan to study blood magic.

10. Joining The Wardens. How did your Warden react to being recruited? Include your Wardens thoughts about Duncan and whether or not they were conscripted in your answer.

He sees it as a punishment- he technically had to be conscripted because he was ready to default to the punishment of the circle- whether it be death or made tranquil. The thing is, even if Jowan wasn’t a blood mage or he got out fine, Hireth would’ve turned himself in after giving it a few hours for Jowan to get away.

He likes the Wardens well enough, but he and Alistair definitely don’t see eye to eye on it being an honor. His opinion on Duncan was luke-warm, he didn’t dislike Duncan but at the time he was hit hard with depression over being conscripted and ripped from the only life he’d known.... so he didn’t really reach out to connect to anyone in the first 6 months or so.

11. Spirituality. What does your Warden believe in? Describe your Wardens Religion or their Atheism. Go into detail about how they practice their beliefs, if their beliefs cause conflict among their companions and how their beliefs guide them morally.

Hireth is a very devout Andrastean, he believes in the Maker and follows a strict moral code of ‘goodness’ in part to that . While merely being a believer in the start, he really falls in love with Leliana’s own teachings on the Maker and His love for everyone. Especially since Hireth follows a “happiness is important” sort of code of conduct, and that really supports the idea (as long as it doesn’t hurt others obviously). He prays every night before bed, which has definitely received some snark from certain party members. Zevran teases him about it, but is never malicious as his teasing is usually good natured. Alistair and him sometimes discuss the religion as two who’ve been under the pressing thumb of the Chantry their whole lives-

Both agree that it was straining, but Hireth never let it get to him the way Alistair seemed to.

12. Tattoos. Does your Warden have any tattoos and if so how did they get them? If you Warden has no tattoos explain why not. Also include how your Warden views tattoos - Include their reaction to the Dwarven Casteless brands and the Dalish Blood Writing.

He’s a big baby who don’t want no pain.

As far as tattoos as a whole go, he has no real opinion on them outside the fact that he doesn’t want one. He’s a bit horrified by the Casteless brands, not understanding how anyone could forcibly do that to others- children included. Dalish blood writing doesn’t phase him as much though due to him being Dalish born.

13. Viewpoint [Part One - Race & Social Class]. Describe how your Warden feels about the Dwarven caste system, Human nobility and Elven alienages. Also go into detail about your own Wardens race/social class and if they are proud/ashamed of where they come from.

He doesn’t understand it at all, honestly. He’s a bit bitter at the treatment of elves- but in the circle he wasn’t really treated wrongly. He was the First Enchanters star pupil, so he didn’t really experience how harsh others racism could be until he was shoved out into the real world.

The Dwarven caste system is the most upsetting to him, that they’d treat others of their own race that way. Elven Alienages upset him a bit too, and I like to imagine that while he travels he always stops in them to help them out.

Personally though, he is proud of his being an elf and a mage.

14. Viewpoint [Part Two - Mages Rights]. How does your character view Mages? Apostates? Blood Magic? How do they react to Morrigan’s shape shifting? How do they react to Wynne being a abomination? If they are a Mage describe their views of the Circle and if they believe they should be free or not.

Being a mage, he views them as just other people. He understands that they hold a great deal of power, but he doesn’t quite grasp the fear of mages that others have. While he personally supports the circle (he wishes to see it as a learning institution though, and would like more freedoms to experience life to be available), he doesn’t dislike apostates for not wanting to be in one.

Blood magic is just evil in his opinion, and should never be used.

He was fairly impressed by Morrigan’s abilities, but made uneasy especially with the implications of her mother being an abomination- that on top of her general attitude kept him from fully trusting her.

Wynne taught him that there are other spirits in the world, and her being touched by one and turned to an ‘abomination’ actually furthered his belief in the Maker that there was a kindness in this world for them.

15. Leadership. What is your Warden like as a leader? How do they lead and how do they handle companions disagreeing with them?

He really grows into the leadership role, he’s a very gentle force and while uncertain at first- he later develops a conviction in his actions. Hireth likes to think that he ‘guides’ more than leads. Any time a companion disagrees with his choices, he usually just reminds them that they don’t actually have to listen to him, but they usually just go with it anyway because they’re there for a reason.

16. Fear. During the quest Broken Circle your character is trapped in the Fade by a Sloth demon If you could personalize your Warden’s nightmare what would it be about? And why?

Chaos, and a lack of control. His nightmare would probably center around how every action he does, the opposite happens. Tries to pick up that book? His reach pushes it away instead. Noise, and over stimulation and not being able to stop it- really fucking with his anxiety.

17. Regret. During the Urn of Sacred Ashes quest you will be introduced to the Guardian who will ask the Warden if they regret something from their past. If you could personalize the Guardian’s question what would he ask? And how would your Warden answer?

Honestly? The question about Jowan would still be fitting. His answer would be more in depth though, about how he would wish that he was more aware of Jowan’s feelings and emotions. Their friendship was a bit of a stale one out of convenience more than a connection, and honestly Hireth blames that fact on himself, and as a reason Jowan turned to blood magic at all.

18. Moral Alignment. What would your character moral alignment be and why?

His alignment is clearly Lawful Good, while he feels that others should have a more- neutral good lifestyle (again, he feels happiness is important as long as it’s harmless), he himself is Lawful. The times he has broken the law/rules, were for the benefit of others. He’s never stepped outside of the law for his own benefit.

19. Fighting Style. Describe your Warden’s fighting style and how it improves during the Blight. Make sure to include what specializations they trained in and why they chose them.

He definitely gets more aggressive in style as the time goes on, he specialized in elemental magic as a part of his training in the circle and carried that on (he was most capable of fire spells, and later electricity due to his precise control on the spells he casted). While starting out shakey, and afraid of actually hurting people, he soon got a better footing on the need to defend himself and his friends and knew his limits and capabilities. His control on his magic allowed him absolute confidence in battle.

20. Weapons/Spells. Describe your Warden’s favourite weapon/spellsand describe what their favourite weapons/spells say about their personality.

As stated, he specialized in elemental spells, which contrasted a bit with his controlling nature to use such unpredictable means- but that was part of what was actually a bit scary about him. He had the control and precision to handle those spells well, if he didn’t want his flames to be unruly and go beyond a certain parameter- they wouldn’t.

21. Meeting Your Warden. Your Warden has been transported into your bedroom through a magical portal. How do they react to meeting you? Do you get along? What is their opinion of your bedroom? Explain the meeting and go into as much detail as possible.

I am not going into detail over this, lmao. He’d be upset by my room and my life choices, I’d be way too loud for him, and we’d get along in a passive sort of way.

22. Favourites. Make a list of your Warden’s favourite things [Colour, Food, Music, Animals, etc]. Explain why they are their favourite.

-Green -- He never put much thought into his favorite color, and wouldn’t be able to answer the question personally... but his wardrobe is filled with nice earthy tones and he is definitely biased towards the color even if he doesn’t realize.

-Spicy foods? -- I-- I can’t really think of a specific food but he loves flavorful ones so I can definitely see him enjoying spicy foods. The nights where Zevran cooks are his fave (Zevran uses the good Antivan spices).

-Piano -- Piano’s are his favorite instrument so he really likes relaxing tunes, soft and melodic. He’s not the biggest fan of vocals, but he doesn’t mind when Leliana sings, and sometimes he joins her if he doesn’t think anyone is listening.

-idk what else to state as his fave lmao

23. Talents & Hobbies. What did your Warden like to do before they were recruited and what do they like to do now when they’re not battling Darkspawn? Also include any talents they may have.

He actually enjoyed writing academically and would compile notes on historical events to find inaccuracies and conflicting information. He writes down reports of his travels now, and compiles them for future information. Overall, hobbies are also reading, and he’s recently taken an interest in Dwarven history.

His talents though, is that he actually has a pretty singing voice.

24. Going Out For A Drink. The DA:O writers were asked in a interview how each companion would act if they went out for a drink [To see responses go onto the Dragon Age Wiki – Character’s Page – Trivia].How would you character react if they went out drinking with their companions and why? What drink would they order?

He’d be nervous the whole time, Hireth doesn’t like drunks... he’d probably be DD (or the closet you can be in Fereldan). He would get water, maybe a virgin drink at the pressure of his friends.

25. Food Comparison. The DA:O writers were asked in a interview to compare each companion to a type of food based on their personalities. [To see responses go onto the Dragon Age Wiki – Character’s Page – Trivia]. What food would your character be and why?

Man I dunno enough about foods for this shit, sweet potato casserole. Because it’s soft and sweet????

26. NPCs. Choose four random NPCs in the game – they can be anyone you want – and describe what your warden thinks of them and their relationship.

First Enchanter Irving - More like a father to Hireth, he tried very hard to make him proud- feels a lot of guilt over lying to him to help Jowan but becomes a bit bitter towards him after finding out he was trained to become a Warden all along.

Ser Otto - Hireth actually has a soft spot for older Templar’s. While wary of younger ones who want in for a feeling of control, most older one’s are just lyrium addled and he pities them. He thought highly of Otto for going to address troubles in the Alienage, protecting the elves like he would humans. He was upset over his death.

Anora - Pitied her for having to deal with her father’s decline, but was ultimately a bit displeased with her as a whole. Something about her demeanor rubbed him wrong but he mostly thinks that’s the result of her coming from a place of wealth (especially bc Cailan had the same effect on him). He appreciated her composure during the Landsmeet, especially since he got sick in front of everyone after watching a man get beheaded...

Loghain - Was intimidated by him from the start, he avoided Loghain at all costs if he could- A bit shocked by the betrayal, but slowly grew to truly hate the man over time. One of the few people he’s actively gotten angry with.

27. Family. Describe the members in your Warden’s family and what your Warden’s relationship with them is like.

I need to change up some of his backstory, but he was originally a Dalish elf. He had a similar background as Minaeve, but I have a bit of a different outlook on the ‘casting out’ part. I think once a child exhibits magical abilities it’s less that they’re ‘cast out’ but more like put on a trial to prove they can handle their selves and abilities to ease worries of attracting demons. Usually they’re monitored but shit happens. As did with Hireth.

Now he doesn’t have clear memories of his parents, exhibiting magic very early on, but they were an elven huntress and the First to the Keeper. His mother was a bit playful, and a prankster- which contrasted with his father’s sullen attitude, but they were together due to being childhood sweethearts and were very close aside from this. They weren’t quite fit for being parents, which lead to them botching up Hireth’s trials and honestly decimated their own relationship afterwards.

In the circle First Enchanter Irving became a father figure for him, he put the man up on a pedestal that slowly crumbled once he left the Circle and found out things Irving had been keeping from him.

Wynne later becomes somewhat of a ‘grandmother’ to him, and he finds family with his companions (namely Shale, Alistair, Zevran, and Leliana).

28. Playlist. Write out a list of songs that describe you Warden and their journey to defeat the Blight. You can include songs you think describe your Warden’s relationship with specific companions if you want to. Make sure you explain why you have chosen each song.  

I’m not explaining the reasons behind these.

29. Backpack. Name 5 items in your Warden’s backpack and explain their significance to your Warden.

A copy of the Chant of Light, and an amulet of Andraste, comforting items of his faith that he clings onto.

An over read book on the history of the Dalish, it’s inaccurate and he knows it- but it was the only thing he had to help him feel connected to where he came from. It’s dog eared on points that he remembers to be true. While he’s not particularly interested in joining back with the Dalish or anything- he still won’t deny his roots.

Dumb headcanon, but since to make the heads connect to the bodies look ‘natural’ the game gives all the characters these weird choker things- I headcanon that those are fucking “friendship” necklaces that Alistair made for everyone. Hireth still has his.

A gem stone given to him from Shale, he plans to return it to them once they become a dwarf again.

He has other keepsakes from companions as well but these are the most significant.

30. Happily Ever After…Or Not. How does the Blight end for your Warden? Describe who killed the Archdemon, How they reacted to Morrigan’s offer, If they lived or died and what boon they asked for if they did live.

The Archdemon is destroyed, surprisingly enough-- Hireth made the final blow in a panic at the thought that the ‘ritual’ was a lie and not wanting Alistair to die he clumsily swung a dropped sword at the beast. Obviously was very against Morrigan’s offer, and slowly has to cope with his own choices. He lived, and didn’t ask for a boon, because he’s a pure fucking child.

[williamofgreatbritain]

A row over staged photos, a health scare and unanswered messages: why Thomas Markle missed his own daughter’s wedding. The second of three days of exclusive extracts from Finding Freedom: Harry and Meghan and the Making of a Modern Royal Family

As Harry and Meghan were revelling in their engagement in November 2017, a newspaper published an article about her father, Thomas Markle, that it had been piecing together for months. The story showed pictures of his home atop a 120ft bluff in Rosarito Beach, a quiet Mexican resort town that overlooked the Pacific Ocean, and had details of his life, such as the red Ford Escape or silver Volvo he drove to his local Walmart to stock up on groceries or to the storage unit where he had bragged to the owner about his daughter who was on television. But there were no quotes, as any time a reporter approached him, he responded with the line prepared for him by palace officials: “I can’t speak out of respect for my family.”

Once the article came out with his home’s location, Thomas Markle had to deal with constant intrusions from reporters and photographers. Over the course of several phone calls, Harry and Meghan told him he should do his best to ignore all press. But, ultimately, he didn’t listen. With some encouragement from his other daughter, Samantha — Meghan’s half-sister, 17 years older than her, who managed to get a cut of the deal in the process — Thomas took up an idea from a photographer, Jeff Rayner. Rayner’s idea was for Thomas to pose for some pictures: reading a book about British history at a coffee shop, visiting an internet café to read the latest news stories about his daughter and future son-in-law and other setups.

The photos ran in outlets around the world but did little to help his public image. In fact, the person they seemed to help was Rayner, who banked at least $130,000 for his photo agency from their sales. Thomas took 30%.

Just one week before Thomas was due to attend Harry and Meghan’s wedding at Windsor Castle in May 2018, the palace got word that a Sunday tabloid intended to run information that would expose the “candid” frames as fakes. At Harry’s instruction, the palace communications team, in consultation with the legal team, began working on a strategy to stop the publication of the embarrassing story.

First, though, Meghan needed to hear straight from her dad what had happened. According to a trusted confidant who was with Meghan as events unfolded, she told her father, “Dad, we need to know if this is true or not, because my team is going to try to stop this story running — if you are telling me it’s fake.

“If they do that, they’re going out of their way to protect you, Dad,” Meghan said over the phone. “You’re telling me you’re being victimised, right?”

He lied to Meghan. “Of course,” he promised, failing to admit he had participated in the staging of the photos.

“Every single time she was calling him, she was like, ‘Dad, I love you. I just want you to know I love you. Everything is fine. Just get here. We’ll have the wedding. We’ll celebrate. Don’t worry about any of this stuff. Let’s just put it behind us,’” the source said. “You want to believe the best, right?”

The source continued: “I’ve heard her say, ‘My dad never sought this out. I really believe that he’s the victim, and now I feel sad because I believe he’s been fully corrupted.’”

Before Meghan got off the phone to her father, she reminded him that a car would be arriving outside his door the next day to drive him to Los Angeles. From there, he was to make the transatlantic trip to London, where all the arrangements had been handled. He would be accompanied door to door, with chauffeured cars, personal security and a guide to answer any question. He wouldn’t have to worry about a thing.

Meanwhile, the communications staff at Kensington Palace did all they could to keep Thomas’s ill-conceived plan from exploding, collaborating with him to issue a report with the Independent Press Standards Organisation and a notice to UK newspaper editors about the situation. But to no avail: the morning after Meghan phoned her father, the headlines read: “Meghan’s dad staged photos with the paparazzi”. Screenshots from closed-circuit cameras made it clear he had staged each and every one.

Meghan was devastated by her father’s deception, but she was also concerned for his welfare. Thomas hadn’t demonstrated the best judgment, to be sure. But the wedding was only a week away. She was desperate to get him to London, where he would be protected from the press by palace escorts and protection officers.

She called her father right away, but he didn’t answer. She called again. And again, and again. She left some version of the same message each time: “Dad, I still love you. Nothing has changed. We’re going to get you safely to London. I’m sending a car to come and get you.”

Despite Meghan’s barrage of voicemails and texts, her father not only refused to get in the waiting car to the airport; he didn’t respond to a single message from his daughter.

“My God, my phone,” Meghan told a friend, explaining that she’d called her father at least 20 times.

“I’m assuming he’s getting my messages,” she added, worried.

Rather than knowing anything for certain, she and Harry were updated on her father’s plans (whether or not he was going to attend her wedding) through the tabloids and gossip websites. He contacted the American entertainment website TMZ to plead his case, explaining he was trying to “recast” his image after being “ambushed” by photographers. But to spare his daughter and the royal family any further embarrassment, he would no longer attend the wedding.

While in public the palace maintained a stoic silent facade, behind closed doors there were recriminations and anger. Having cut himself off from aides and his daughter, Thomas was feeding the press a seemingly never-ending stream of nonsensical statements. Palace courtiers were waiting minute by minute for the next bombshell to drop.

“It was very, very tough,” an aide said about the palace’s response to the Thomas Markle situation. “It’s very easy to blame the palace, but, my God, I’ve not seen any situation quite like it — where you’ve got a woman marrying a prince, and the father of the beautiful young woman is 5,000 miles away and just not playing ball, and not only not playing ball, but he’s up to silly games.”

Thomas claimed a furious Harry called him and hissed, “If you had listened to me, this would never have happened.” But no such conversation occurred. In another dramatic turn of events, just the day after saying he was not attending the wedding, Thomas told reporters that he couldn’t imagine missing such a historic event.

A wounded Meghan directed Kensington Palace officials to release a statement she wrote herself about the incident, calling it “a deeply personal matter” and requesting her privacy as they sorted it out. While she in no way wanted her family drama to play out so publicly, she felt forced to take some sort of action.

Despite her father’s behaviour, she was nonetheless crushed by the thought of him not being there for the wedding. “As much as she was hurt and humiliated, she wanted him to be there and was willing to move on,” a close friend said. “Plus, she was worried about him: she honestly wasn’t sure if he was actually OK. His behaviour was bizarre.”

His bespoke suit and custom shoes were waiting at the Oliver Brown tailor in Chelsea, southwest London, and Harry had asked a military veteran to accompany Meghan’s father. “The treatment that Meghan’s mother, Doria, received when she arrived here is exactly what was planned for Thomas,” a senior aide added, noting that he would have been put up in a hotel and given a protection officer and assistant during his stay.

With only four days left before her wedding, though, Meghan received more devastating news from her father — again through a celebrity gossip website. Laying the blame firmly at the feet of the prying press, Thomas claimed the stress had caused him to have a heart attack. His doctors advised him that he needed surgery just two days before his daughter took her vows, to clear a blockage, repair damage and implant several stents. Short of some sort of miraculous recovery, he said, he would be in no shape to fly across the Atlantic and thus would not be attending the royal wedding.

Troubled, Meghan tried to text Thomas: “I’ve been reaching out to you all weekend but you’re not taking any of our calls or replying to any texts . . . Very concerned about your health and safety and have taken every measure to protect you but not sure what more we can do if you don’t respond . . . Do you need help? Can we send the security team down again? I’m very sorry to hear you’re in the hospital but need you to please get in touch . . . What hospital are you at?”

Ten minutes later she followed up with another. “Harry and I made a decision earlier today and are dispatching the same security guys you turned away this weekend to be a presence on the ground to make sure you’re safe . . . they will be there at your disposal as soon as you need them. Please call as soon as you can . . . all of this is incredibly concerning but your health is most important,” she wrote.

That evening Thomas sent a short response to say that he appreciated the offer of security but didn’t feel in any danger. Instead, he wrote, he would recover at a motel. Meghan asked for details but he didn’t reply.

Not a word about the subject had been spoken when Meghan brought Doria to meet the Queen and Prince Philip earlier in the day, but the situation still caused her to feel embarrassed about the public drama during their afternoon tea at Windsor Castle.

Meghan placed some of the blame on herself. Having spent the past year and a half in the glaring spotlight, she understood what the pressure from the media was like. “He’s vulnerable,” she told a friend. “He’s been baited. A lot of the tabloid journalists have been coaxing him and paying him. I don’t know if he really even had a chance.”

Harry also blamed the media for the whole situation. “The pressure he was put under for six months before he finally cracked and started to participate,” a senior courtier said of Meghan’s father, “that’s what Harry’s angry about.”

One individual close to the couple summed it up this way: “There is a sort of aggressive intrusiveness and a reckless, irresponsible almost hostility to the media’s actions that’s deeply harmful. I don’t think the paparazzi are the same. I think that has changed. But the sort of ruthless malevolence of some sections of the media, and it is malevolent, is genuinely bad. What they’ve done to her father, drawn him out from his private life and forced him out into the open, and then waving cheques at him, it’s just absolutely terrible. He wanted to live privately. He would have continued to live privately. He would have been at the wedding if the media had left him alone as they were asked to. And there’s no public interest argument to excuse intruding into the private life of Thomas Markle.”

“If it wasn’t for Harry, Doria and her friends, Meghan herself says that she wouldn’t have mentally got through it,” a friend said. The night before the wedding, she sent her father one last text. He did not reply.

Sitting in a bath later that night, FaceTiming with a friend, the bride-to-be said she had left her dad a final message, adding: “I can’t sit up all night just pressing send.”

[rachelcarsoncenter]

(Adventures in Stavanger, Part 1)

In this mini series you can read about the experiences of Johanna Felber and Malin Klinski, candidates of the RCC’s Environmental Studies Certificate program, during an exchange program with the University of Stavanger in Norway. If you want to find out more about life in the land of the midnight sun, trolls, and vikings, you are in the right place... 

By Johanna Felber and Malin Klinski

Stavanger is a place of contradictions. The fourth largest city of Norway is situated on the southwestern coastline. Depending on who you ask, you will hear quite different stories about the place. Some might talk about Stavanger as being Norway’s (or even Europe’s) petroleum capital. The big-oil resources have not only helped the city of Stavanger to accumulate wealth – they are also a symbol of the nation’s global economic importance. As recently as January 2020, the Norwegian government officially opened a new giant oil field, 140 kilometers off the shore of Stavanger. It is estimated to generate a maximum turnover of US $100 billion. Norway itself obtains its energy mostly from renewable sources, especially wind- and hydropower. Stavanger’s oil and gas are mainly export goods.

The other side of Stavanger is more in line with the picturesque face of the city. Countless ships still sail towards the old port; tiny wooden houses (often white, sometimes colorful like in the “color alley”), narrow streets, the fish market, and cobblestones make up the charm of the gamle (old town). Less well known is the impressive variety of street art, which can be discovered when wandering about.

The fjords around Stavanger are passageways to many of the smaller islands situated close to the shore. The best way to experience Stavanger’s natural beauty is going outdoors and exploring the landscapes surrounding the town. Once you stand on a rocky mountain overlooking the region, you realize how tales of trolls found their way into Norwegian folk tales.

Photo by the authors.

Fun Fact: Norwegians have a lot of words to describe weather, that don’t exist in the English language. Oppholdsvær, for example, means cloudy weather without rainfall, meaning great weather to go out into nature!

  On the Road

Our Stavanger adventure started in Munich. We drove up to Stavanger with Hanna’s red camping bus. It is like a little house, with a bed, a cooking stove and, most importantly in Norway, a heater. Hanna even sewed curtains to cover the windows and keep out the cold. Our journey led us to Hamburg, Aarhus, a beach on the very northern rim of Denmark, Hirtshals, and then to a small lake between Kristiansand and Stavanger, before we finally arrived on the university campus.

Malin lives in a student dormitory, just outside the main building of the University, and she was able to move in as soon as we arrived on campus. Hanna resides in a shared flat closer to the city center, from where she can cycle up the hill to the university. On a sunny day you can see quite far, right out to sea. Getting into town from the university by bike takes 30 minutes, up and down steep roads.

Beach in north Denmark

First morning in Norway, at a lake

  The University

Our courses at the University of Stavanger (UiS) are all connected to the local Master’s in Energy, Environment and Society – an interdisciplinary program. The focus is mainly on environmental and energy politics from a global, comparative perspective. The entire interior design of the university is cozy and thought through. From light installations to plant pots, cushions, colourful wallpapers, fluffy carpets and artistic paintings – Norwegians know how to make spending a lot of time indoors bearable. This is quite important when you can’t leave the house for a short stroll because the wind is howling relentlessly and the rain splashing mercilessly against the windowsills. The Norwegian weather forecast’s website is called yr.no, which means something like “drizzling rain.”

The university library is more of an open, creative space. You can find rocking chairs, beanbags and hammock-pergolas. You are allowed to play games, speak loudly and bring your own food. When we first visited the library and a housemate of Malin’s waved and shouted, “What’s up?” through the hall, we winced in unison. Even though it felt a little weird in the beginning, we quickly adapted to the local habits – and brought some cinnamon buns and tea into the library while discussing the first paper we had to submit.

One of the reasons we have decided to come to Stavanger is the Greenhouse at UiS. Dolly and Finn Arne Jørgensen, two researchers in the field of environmental history, initiated this platform for sharing research, developing ideas and projects, and discussing environmental topics. A couple of professors and PhD candidates join them in the weekly Greenhouse Lunch, where current themes and activities are shared, planned, and promoted. We have also been there once and were heartily welcomed to the group. Unfortunately, the lunch is coinciding with one of our seminars, but we will join them again soon for other events, in a second installation in this miniseries, will keep you updated about what the environmentalists here are thinking and working on.

No, these pictures don’t show a fancy hipster café – it is the university library

  Exploring Nature

Until now, we have tried to get outside as much as possible. Stavanger’s surroundings offer countless possibilities for experiencing nature. We both became members of the UiS friluftsliv group (outdoor sport group), which organizes all kinds of outdoor activities. Most of the hikes in the area are easily accessible by public transport, with some entailing underwater tunnel rides and ferry cruises. It is definitely worth visiting the Vigdel beach, close to Sola. We wandered on wooden planks through pliant dunes, climbed over rugged, craggy cliffs, and saw a rainbow appearing from the depths of the stormy sea. Moreover, it is an excellent spot to have a picnic and eat homemade cinnamon rolls with loads of confectioner’s sugar. Another nice tour is taking the public bus to the island of Rennesøy and wandering along the steep cliff towards the mountain range. It really is an adventure path and no matter where you go, it is impossible not to take dozens of breaks to admire the view. With the friluftsliv group we went on two different hiking trips that both ended with a bonfire. We grilled marshmallows and roasted home-made bread dough on sticks over the flames.

  On another weekend trip we joined some members of the friluftsliv group on a ski tour with the Norwegian mountain club DNT in the region of Sirdal, about two hours drive from Stavanger. We didn’t really know what we signed up for, as the tour was a mixture of slalom, cross country skiing, and snowshoe hiking. The scenery was beautiful, it was an experience we wouldn’t have wanted to miss, but we still found ourselves with incredible muscle aches on Monday morning.

One of the most popular leisure activities in Norway is spending time in cabins. We slept in two different cabins on our ski trip, and learned that there are quite some things to be aware of when signing up for such overnight stays. After eight hours of tour-skiing through the snowy mountains on just the first day, we finally arrived at our cabin.

We felt like doing nothing more than falling into one of the bunk beds and closing our eyes. But two Norwegians girls still had enough motivation to take off all their skiing equipment, run down the hill, and jump into the icy water of the river running by. Malin decided to join in the experience. The water was so incredibly cold that you couldn’t even feel it anymore. It is a miracle how the body still manages to function in these temperatures.

Compared to this experience, lugging the water buckets from that same river back up to the fireplace was a rather relaxing task. After so much physical activity and fresh air we were really hungry, and nothing on earth could taste better than pasta with tomato sauce then. With a heavy woolen blanket thrown around our shoulders and the dim light of the candles (which were lighted to save electricity) the evening was made even more cozy. We played cards and told stories about our favorite hiking trips. One thing we learned from that skiing trip in Sirdal was that the further you are away from a proper road, internet connection, and running water, the more hyggelig it gets!

The word hyggelig can mean a lot of different things. It translates to pleasant, good, nice, secure, intimate, snug, and comfortable. It describes a feeling or impression – if you find yourself sitting content, tired but warm, at a fireplace after a long day, you will know what it really is about.

  The way to the heart is through the stomach

Food is very expensive in Norway. This is a fact. A bowl of simple green salad costs 7 euros in the university cafeteria. The only way around this is making your own food, and being creative. The 20 people that share the kitchen in Malin’s student dormitory come from 15 different countries. Since arriving, we have cooked many different dishes from various regions of the world in this kitchen. We made huge amounts of hummus and falafel and spent hours rolling sushi. One day we prepared pizza dough and tiramisu for the entire house, with instructions from Jacopo, an Italian student from Milan. The more people share the food you cook, the more affordable it becomes.

We even joined in the International Food Festival of the university. Teams received 40 euros to buy groceries and cook traditional food from their country. The winning team receives vouchers for the cafeteria. Unfortunately, we didn’t win – competing with countries like India, Vietnam, and Mexico, we were hard challenged from the outset! In the end, the winner was South Korea.  We made Semmelknödel and Scheiterhaufen –  spinach and parsley dumpling with creamy mushroom sauce, and a sweet dessert made from old bread, milk, cinnamon, apples, berries and loads of sugar. We had a lot of fun and more people than we expected complimented our food.

Team Germany – not expecting to win, but still in a good mood. Hanna, David, Malin, and Kevin are posing for the team photo. David and Kevin study sport science.

Despite the often non-existent sunshine, we really enjoyed our first month in Stavanger. A lot of things are still on our bucket list for the next months, so we will surely not get bored. One of the most important things is learning Norwegian, which will hopefully give us the chance to dive deeper into the culture. We will share our experiences in snakke norsk med nordmanner and everything else that left us sometimes clueless, sometimes smiling, during our exchange in Stavanger in our next blog post.

Opplevelser I Stavanger (Adventures in Stavanger, Part 1) In this mini series you can read about the experiences of…

[thegreenhorseman]

This coming Saturday, May 2nd, will mark 2 years of having horses on the property.

I began working and cleaning stalls to ride when I was ten. Through middle and high school I was a “come and go” equestrian.  I was a devoted barn rat until drama of some kind ensued during which I vanished.  Horses being a forever love of mine, however, would never be out of my world for long.

I worked to ride through college.

After college, I helped out a friend for a couple years.

Horses fell to the wayside while I pursued my career and explored other hobbies.  I ran my first 5k and fell in love with obstacle course races.  I got into and even started teaching kickboxing…it’s how Zac and I met (He was an instructor).  It was during a women’s self-defense course that I was assistant teaching that led me to find Blade.

I was a horse owner.  Finally.  Twenty-six years and I was a horse owner.  A dream.

I also dreamt of owning a property with my horse onsite.  Boarding was amazing and I learned many things about being a good, responsible owner.  Zac and I saved up and in a few years we moved into the house we call home today.

September 2017

April 2018

  May/June 2018

September 2019

Another dream of mine.  Having horses right at home.  There was (and always is) a lot to learn while planning our horse property.  There was no fencing. No pastures. No barn. We did that.

I did research.  We busted our butts.  And on May 2nd, 2018 Blade came home with Happy.

I subscribe to the philosophy that horses are herd animals and NEED social interaction with other horses.  At the time affording two horses was out of the question.  I spent most of my savings on setting the property up and already work 12-hour overnight shits to earn more money.

That being said I do everything I can to provide my animals with a happy enriching life.

Something I find absolutely astounding is that in only TWO years there have been SEVEN horses on this property.  To celebrate two years I want to celebrate the horses that have called this place home.

WARRIORS BLADE: AKA “BLADE”

An obvious choice to begin our celebrations.  Blade was and always will be my heart horse.  When he came home he was a 10-year-old off-track thoroughbred. We did all of this for HIM.  I sacrificed novelty and restful sleep to make sure I was doing right by Blade. In the two years I had him home we developed a closer bond than ever before.  I had him trotting at liberty circles around me in my backyard with no fencing.

Blade was always happy to see me even when he played the “you can’t catch me game.”  We enjoyed bareback rides, grazing the backyard, and simply hanging out together.

PARAMOUNT’s HAPPY APPLAUSE: AKA “HAPPY”

Happy, a then 24 (I think) year old morgan mare just coming back from a suspensory tear.  Happy had spent fall on stall rest and during the winter I had begun helping my trainer begin hand walking which turned into 5 minutes walking bareback, 10 minute walking bareback, 15 minutes, then 20 minutes.  Then we added trotting the straights and soon after cantered the straights (Thank God she’s smooth and bareback riding was easy on her).  By May she was mostly recovered but still not ready to return to the lesson program.

As a way to help my trainer and also myself, I offered to have her at our home to keep Blade company while giving her more time off and exercise.

Happy thrived on the 24/7 turnout and the hill strengthened her throughout the summer.

By the end of summer my trainer missed Happy and wanted to bring her back into the lesson program for the flat riders.  It was a lovely summer having her as part of our family.

VIA VIA: AKA “LITTLE MAN”

I was given a month’s notice that Happy was going to be returning to the lesson barn.  I had a month to figure out how to give Blade a companion without putting myself in a financial hole.

I reached out to several rescues and eventually, my neighbor put me into contact with the rescue that saved Vai Via’s life from Moore’s kill pen in Pennsylvania.

Vai Via was a 20-year-old thoroughbred who found himself close o being shipped to slaughter in early 2018.  He was saved, quarantined, and spent time at a farm in Maryland.

When he arrived he was a nervous soul but very kind.  He had a smaller refined body that was solid and well built.  He loved to run and play…you couldn’t tell him he was in his twenties.

We were his home for a year and in that time I had the joy of learning who he was and earning his trust.   He was a bit nervous under saddle but on the ground, he’d do anything.  We did obstacle courses together and he even allowed me to try archery with him.

Due to the contentious ending between myself and the rescue I was cut off from contact and I am not sure as to what he is up to now. Not knowing that he is safe and happy is the most difficult part of the whole ordeal; as for the people, there is no love lost.

ZENO BAY: AKA “OLD MAN”

Zeno Bay came home with Vai Via as a package deal.  The two were inseparable best buds.  Zeno Bay was also a 20-year old thoroughbred.  They were rescued from Moore’s a week apart and spent their quarantine together.  Zeno Bay also lived with Vai Via in Maryland all summer until they were returned to NY to live with us.

Zeno Bay did not arrive looking as good as he did in photos.  In fact he looked better in the killpen.  While on the farm in Maryland he developed a quarter crack that extended to the coronet band and lost a lot of weight.

In only three months Zeno Bay was back on a healthy road.  He had more minor and easily remedied health issues.  Due to a large belly and ribby look, we opted to administer a Panacur PowerPac to address any worms.  During a wet week he stood in the run-in shed all day and stocked up…hand-walking and cold hosing took care of it.  I noticed he became aggressively itchy and upon investigation found he had lice (not transferrable between species but still gross).  I treated all three horses preventatively (and again two weeks later) and washed their blankets well.  During a frigid week in January, I came out to find Zeno had a swollen sheath (after talking to a few farms it seemed they all had similar issues with at least one or two of their geldings).  Since it seemed to me like edema (and with a phone call with the vet) I hand walked and exercised him daily and the swelling went away.

Aside from these minor issues, Zeno Bay was the most personable horse I have ever met.  He got along well with the other boys but was happy to leave the herd and wanted to be with you and in your pocket. I could do anything with this horse and as long as we were together he was happy.

One day while bareback riding I walked him over to our flagpost to fix the flag…the pole had retracted.  In trying to extend the pole back to normal height it instead came off in my hands.  I used this as an opportunity to train, but Zeno Bay was completely unphased by the waving flag.

Again, since things ended poorly with the rescue I have no contact with Zeno Bay any longer and it breaks my heart.  As far as I know, he has a very loving home and is enjoying his life.  If that home ever found me and reached out I’d be happy to send him my love and a bag of his favorite treats.

R TOMCAT: AKA “TIGER”

As things heated up with the rescue and stipend payments became later and later I knew the time was approaching to say goodbye to my sweet old boys.  I began my search for my second horse.  I made the decision to get a second horse to eliminate the drama of having anyone else’s on the property (I do not offer board).  I wanted a horse that was more sound than Blade the I could take to hunter paces and that I could jump.

A twist of fate connected me with R Tom Cat, a then 6-year old thoroughbred gelding.  His family was looking to place him in a good home.  He had raced a couple times and didn’t do well, so he was re-trained and brought to Kentucky for the Retired Racehorse Project.   He showed promise in the eventing world and his sire, Dance With Ravens, is among the desired sires for the sport.

Tiger came home in September just before Zeno Bay and Vai Via went back to the rescue.  He and Blade had about a week to establish a bond and get to know each other.  Tiger was smitten with Blade instantly.

Life with Tiger wasn’t easy at first.  I had flipped his world upside-down.  From a cushy stall life to 24/7 turnout.  From arena riding to the backyard hacks.  He took to pacing the fence and it drove me nuts.

Over time, however, Tiger has become accustomed to and satisfied with his new life.  He happily eats his hay, lays in the field, or in his bedded run-in shed.  He always comes to greet me and enjoyed being loved on.  He especially loves his face rubs.  He also still loves to work.  Recently we have been given permission to ide the neighbor’s cornfield and that’s his favorite since we have the room to gallop and stretch out.

NAHE

When Blade passed on suddenly in December a friend of mine reached out to me to offer Nahe on a free lease with the option to buy.  Nahe is a large paint (16.1/16.2hh?) gelding she acquired while she led trail rides in Hawaii.  That’s right. Nahe has come 5000 miles.   He’s been in New York for about five years now and grows a perfectly well-adapted winter coat.  He has a giant head and we THINK he’s about 15/16 years old.

Nahe and Tiger became best friends within 5 minutes.  They eat side by side and lay next to each other for their afternoon naptime.

Nahe is another in-your-pocket type and loves to visit with people.  He’s laid back in true Hawaiian fashion.  He makes his time getting around but on the trail is happy to kick it into a higher gear.  Like Tiger, I trust this horse and have many times ridden him in the cornfield bareback with a halter.

He also takes wonderful care of my neighbor who also enjoys spending time with him and giving him extra grooming sessions.  Right now he especially loves it because he is shedding white hairs everywhere!

SADIE

Sadie is our most recent and temporary resident but she is still part of the family regardless.

Sadie belongs to my trainer…another morgan mare.  She is the largest morgan I have ever met standing at 16/16.1 hands.  She has a thick cresty neck and her ribs are quite squishy but her whole presence is simply stunning.  Watching her move brings a sense of royalty.

Sadie went immediately into intense work.  I round penned her daily.  I also added in lunging on a line.  After that, I added in trot poles.  Sadie is a high energy girl and I have to be in the right frame of mind to help her find a sense of calmness and ease.  She carries a lot of tension so working with her requires me to be calm, quiet, and patient.  She thrives on praise and LOVES to hear she’s a good girl.  Sadie also loves to cuddle.  Being groomed and having her face rubbed is her favorite.

In only a few weeks she seems at ease but I am still working on getting on her.  To be honest I am quite nervous and I’m making it slow.  So far I have saddled and ridden her for I’ve minutes in a bitless bridle at a walk.  When she starts to get fussy I look for something she knows and does well, parties her, and get off.  I plan to build from there if the rain will ever let up.

 SEVEN HORSES in only two years.  Our property has seen a lot but we’ve done a lot of good.  All seven of these horses have thrived here and all enjoy people.  They enjoy being around people and they have had a good life here.  I am always working to improve our home and quality of care but I am satisfied with what we have done so far.

  Horses of The Green Horseman Family This coming Saturday, May 2nd, will mark 2 years of having horses on the property. I began working and cleaning stalls to ride when I was ten.

[buckaroo-blue]

50 Questions:

I was tagged by @wonderlandmind4 :)

1. What is the colour of your hairbrush?

-Black and green

2. Name a food you never eat?

-I’m “picky” aka have food OCD, so that’s a lengthy list lol. Some big no-go’s are mushrooms and asparagus. 

3. Are you typically too warm or too cold?

-I’m ALWAYS warm. 

4. What were you doing 45 minutes ago?

- Playing pool on my phone, listening to the top songs of 2004, and drinking a seltzer.

5. What is your favourite candy bar?

-Twix or bueno bars!! 

6. Have you ever been to a professional sports game?

-Yes! I’ve gone to see the Seattle Storm, the Sonics (back when they were ours!!), the Sounders, and the Mariners. 

7. What is the last thing you said out loud?

- “Ow.” I smacked myself in the face with a bowl when I went to funnel Fritos into my mouth........

8. What is your favourite ice cream?

- I’m the person that gets cotton candy or bubble gum lol. But I do really like coffee Oreo or anything caramel!

9. What is the last thing you had to drink?

- A Smirnoff raspberry rosé seltzer. They’re pretty sweet, but tasty nonetheless. 

10. Do you like your wallet?

- Yes! I’ve been a sucker for Coach since I was little, and even as my taste has evolved (read: gotten significantly more expensive), I always like to have a Coach wallet. Right now I have a dusty blue croc “skin” trifold that serves me well!

11. What was the last thing you ate?

-Fritos, before I smacked myself in the face with the bowl. 

12. Did you buy new clothes last weekend?

- No, but I bought a lamp! And I found some old Barnes and Nobles gift cards and ordered a book. But I work in retail, so I usually say yes to this question lol.

13. The last sporting event you watched?

-XFL. I wanted to be a Seattle Dragons fan, and I’m so bummed about the league folding.

14. What is your favourite flavour of popcorn?

-I’m not a huge popcorn fan, but I do love it when it’s chocolate-coated. Otherwise just a shit ton of butter. *WAIT NO, I lied. My neighbor makes this insane curry powder popcorn and it’s to die for.

15. Who is the last person who sent a text message to?

-Last person I messaged? @princesszorldo. Last person I texted? My dad (who is upstairs haha) to congratulate him in 27 years living in the United States.

16. Ever go camping?

- Kind of. I’ve never done the full on “tent on a camp site or in the woods”, but I’ve camped out in tents on retreats and I’ve gone to sleep away  camp.

17. Do you take vitamins?

-I ought to. I take a liquid multi and calcium sometimes, but I’m on so many meds that I have an aversion to taking pills when I don’t absolutely need to.

18. Do you go to church every Sunday?

- I used to. That’s a tricky subject for me, but I usually respond to religion with “I’m a Christian, but I don’t support institutionalized religion and the modern Christian church doesn’t widely reflect what I value and see the faith to be about”.

19. Do you have a tan?

- I’m half Filipino, so yeah. lol. BUT I like to joke that being half means that I get melanin for half of the year only. It’s a pretty drastic difference if you met me in August vs February.

20. Do you prefer Chinese food over pizza?

- Chinese! I love noodles!! But pizza is a pretty close second. 

21. Do you drink your soda with a straw?

- I’m not a big soda drinker, but I LOVE straws. I always have a reusable straw in my bag.

22. What colour socks do you usually wear?

- Usually white, but black if I’m working or going somewhere nice.

23. Do you ever drive above the speed limit?

- Not really. But I don’t really drive. I live right in the city and it’s so much easier to bus or take ride share. I’ve been able to drive since I was fifteen, but I got my license at nearly twenty-one. And I don’t have a car. I actually *hit* another car during my drive test and played dumb and the lady still passed me! Soooooo, I don't drive over the limit by way of I don't really drive. But I probably would if I drove more.

24. What terrifies you?

-Not being understood. Moths. The concept of eternity. 

25. What do you left, what do you see?

-Myself in my dresser mirror. I just cleaned my room, so my dresser top is clean!

26. What chore do you hate the most?

- I don’t like to clean the bathroom. But I do like to clean, so it’s not awful.

27. What do you think of a when you hear an Australian accent?

- @princesszorldo lol. And H2o

28. What’s your favourite soda?

-My friends tell me that orange Hi-C doesn’t count, but it does to me. I also like a nice lil Coca Light when I’m in Europe. I’m sure they have a different formula bc it just hits different.

29. Do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive?

- Drive-Thru!!! I hate getting out of the car if I don’t have to.

30. What’s your favourite number?

-16 bc I was born on the 16th.

31. Who’s the last person you talk to?

- Lol @princesszorldo. She’s basically the only person that I’m in regular communication with who I can stand right now.

32. Favourite cut of beef?

- I’m not a big beef person! I mostly eat white meats (CHIMKEN) if I eat meat. 

33. Last song you listen to?

- Gravity by John Mayer. 

34. Last book you read?

- I’m gonna say “The Siren” by Emmagnetised, but for a book-book I’m rereading Dune bc I’m excited for the movie!

35. Favourite day of the week?

-Friday! I miss happy hour and bar hopping. And dancing. And ditching my friends without saying anything bc I’m done with them and going for a hot dog at the good food cart by the Shell station.

36. Can you say the alphabet backwards?

- I learned in 7th grade bc I was being bullied and that’s what I would do to distract myself in class. But now it’s a cool party trick!

37. How do you like your coffee?

-COFFEEEEEEE. I take it lots of ways. If I’m camping or need something asap? Drip with half and half, and with honey and cinnamon if there’s any. At home? Stok cold brew with hazelnut creamer. On my way to and from work? Usually an iced vanilla latte or an iced white mocha. 

38. Favourite pair of shoes?

- My blue crocs. Or I have some baby pink Swedish Hasbeen clogs that I love! Or my maroon docs. But I wear my Sam Edelman pointy-toed booties the most bc I’m “highly encouraged” to wear heels to work.

39. Time you normally get up?

-For work? Between 6:30 and 7:30am. Lately? Noon. And that’s on narcolepsy and quarantine, periodt.

40. What do you prefer sunrise or sunset?

- Sunset bc I’m actually awake lol.

41. How many blankets on your bed?

- Two. I sleep with just a weighted blanket, but I have a duvet on the half of my bed that I don’t sleep on.

42. Describe your kitchen plates?

- Lol what. They’re blue. From Costco. I don’t like the size range that the set came in, but whatever. 

43. Describe your kitchen at the moment?

- There are sugar ants coming from somewhere, so a lot of our food is sitting on the dining room table lol. Fun fact! Pam spray kills those fuckers on sight. My mother isn’t happy that I figured that out.

44. Do you have a favourite alcoholic drink?

- Vodka tonics, usually. I love cider and seltzers. I’m a big tequila fan, but I’ve got to commit to that. I can’t have beer bc gluten hates me, and I can’t have Jäger anymore bc living in Prague funneled way too much of that shit through my esophagus, 

45. Do you play cards?

- I love games, but especially cards! Nerts, BS, speed, spoons.... I pick up new random games all the time, but those are some favorites.

46. What colour is your car?

- What car? If I had one it would be orange and obnoxious. Probably a Subaru Outback bc Seattle tings.

47. Can you change a tire?

- Bruh. After all of that do I sound like someone who can change a tire?

48. Your favourite state?

- WASHINGTON. Oregon and California get honorable mentions, though. I want to like New York, but I haven’t been. I feel like I would like Massachusetts, too. I’m fond of Texas, but that’s a complicated love lol.

49. Favourite job you’ve had?

- I like my current job (finally)! I’m a bridal stylist, and while there were some people on staff that were tough, I love working with brides and I was excited to learn that I quickly became one of the top sellers on my team!

50. How did you get your scar?

- Right wrist is from when I burned myself on the toaster oven when I was five. Left wrist from when Elly scratched me on the playground in third grade and the front office lady wouldn't let me go to the nurse bc she was friends with Elly’s mom and said “that’s what I deserved”. Left knee.....definitely not from falling after a night out.... Lots of old keloid scars on my ears from piercings. I had a cyst removed and that bad boy did not heal up nicely. Lovely. I mostly sprain and break things, though.

@princesszorldo here’s something to do while in quarantine lol

[thisdaynews]

Australian Open: Sofia Kenin thanks dad after maiden Grand Slam title

New Post has been published on https://thebiafrastar.com/australian-open-sofia-kenin-thanks-dad-after-maiden-grand-slam-title/

Australian Open: Sofia Kenin thanks dad after maiden Grand Slam title

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Highlights: Kenin beats Muguruza to win Australian Open

2020 Australian Open Venue:Melbourne ParkDates:20 January to 2 February Coverage:Listen on BBC Radio 5 Live Sports Extra and online; Live text on selected matches on the BBC Sport website and app; Watch highlights on BBC Two and BBC iPlayer.

When Sofia Kenin was closing in on her maiden Grand Slam title, her dad could barely watch.

Alex Kenin’s face was contorted with tension and then covered with his hands as he hunched forward nervously on his seat.

This was the moment they had dreamed of ever since she picked up a racquet aged five and became a child prodigy who hit with the stars.

When Kenin’s 4-6 6-2 6-2 win over Garbine Muguruza in the Australian Open final was complete, the 21-year-old American raced around the net to the opposite corner of the court to tenderly grasp the hand of her father, who is also her coach.

She says they both asked each other what had just happened.

Two hours or so later, with the Daphne Akhurst trophy on the table and a glass of Champagne in her hand, she had a simple message to the man who gave her the “American dream”.

“Just thank you to him. We can share this forever,” said Kenin.

Alex, a quiet Russian who moved to New York in 1987, responded by using his two index fingers to draw a smile on his face.

“He saw I had talent and we said ‘let’s just go for it and do this professionally for my life’,” said Kenin, who will rise to seventh in the world when the rankings are updated on Monday.

“He knows what he is talking about and comes up with the right plans and the right strategies. He just knows it.

“He did it by learning the whole experience. He is crazy smart.”

Sofia Kenin (left) and father Alexander, who made many sacrifices in order to help his daughter’s career

What makes Kenin’s rise remarkable is the fact her dad has guided her all the way there as a self-taught coach with little background in the sport.

Alex drove one of New York City’s iconic yellow cabs before becoming a computer consultant, then took over as her coach when his daughter’s career became more serious.

He played tennis “just for fun” in his younger days back home in Moscow and Crimea but says he did not play “well”.

It was apparent his daughter, who Alex and wife Svetlana took to be born back in Russia before returning to Manhattan shortly afterwards, was a special talent.

She quickly became a star in the States, featuring on television programmes and the covers of magazines which labelled her as a future Grand Slam champion.

Famously, aged seven, she claimed she would be able to return a serve from hard-hitting American star Andy Roddick, then practised with the likes of Grand Slam champions John McEnroe, Venus Williams and Kim Clijsters.

The WTA posted a video this week of four-time Grand Slam singles champion Clijsters giving a tour to a then six-year-old Kenin, with the Belgian saying “who knows, she might be one of the new big stars”.

Quickly she rose through the junior ranks, with two-time Grand Slam champion Naomi Osaka even saying recently that Kenin “killed it” during those years.

The constant by her side has been her dad, who says he was never tempted to hire a ‘professional’ coach.

“She was always number one at 12, 14, 16, 18. So why change a good thing?” said Alex, who thanked journalists for their “attention” after he spoke to them.

His daughter has become the youngest Australian Open champion since Maria Sharapova in 2008 and the eighth woman to become a first-time Grand Slam winner in the past 12 events.

As with Japanese 22-year-old Osaka and 19-year-old Canadian Bianca Andreescu before her, she has become the latest young star to leave the world wondering if she can go on to dominate the game.

Throw American 15-year-old Coco Gauff, who Kenin impressively beat in the last 16 in Melbourne, into the mix and the future of the women’s game looks bright.

“I saw what Naomi and Bianca achieved and I really wanted to achieve that,” said Kenin, whose given name is Sofia but is known by its diminutive Sonya – the name of Alex’s mother – at home.

“It gave me a big boost, big motivation.

“My dad was telling me: ‘It is great for them and you can really achieve this too’.

“I’ve seen women’s tennis is changing. We can all play each other on any given day and there can be a lot of damage happening.”

Muguruza, a two-time Grand Slam champion, can testify as to the damage Kenin can cause.

The American’s relentless returning, ability to execute under pressure and an insatiable will-to-win ground down the Spaniard, who led by a set before being mentally and physically worn down in Saturday’s final in Melbourne.

Kenin swung the match her way with a monumental hold from 3-2 40-0 down in the third set.

Two backhands down the line under the most intense of pressure were outrageous, a third winner – this time down the other flank – almost ridiculous.

An ace out wide and a crosscourt forehand winner – after drawing Muguruza into the net – clinched the hold. It also virtually clinched the championship.

Muguruza crumbled from that point, producing three double faults – including one on match point – in what proved to be the final game.

“I knew I needed to come up with the five best shots of my life. I mean, let’s go!” laughed Kenin, who plans to spend some of her £2.1m winnings in luxury jewellery stores in Melbourne.

Growing up in the affluent Manhattan neighbourhood of Upper East Side, she says she is a “typical blonde girl” from that area.

“I’m into all those fancy stores,” said Kenin, who has almost doubled her previous career winnings of £2.9m.

“I like to have that luxurious life. I’ve worked so hard for it. it’s super exciting and I get to do what I want.”

That she is able to do that is down to father Alex and mother Svetlana, who was back home in Florida with Kenin’s grandma, sister and dogs.

Kenin said her mum cannot watch her matches because she gets too nervous.

“I called her right after the match just to tell her that everything’s fine, I won, she can just relax now,” said Kenin, who mouthed “Oh my God! Look at all these people” when she walked into a packed media room.

“I told her I’m not going to be able to talk to you for hours, but at least you know that I won.

“I’m coming home, you can give me the biggest hug of your life.”

Although the rest of the Kenin family could see exactly what was happening on Rod Laver Arena through the television pictures, Alex melted the hearts of more than a few people who watched him film his daughter’s maiden Grand Slam acceptance speech on his mobile phone.

Afterwards, sitting alone in a quiet media area and going through countless messages on the same device, he had a confession to make.

“It didn’t go too well, I didn’t press record properly,” he laughed.

It was probably the only mistake he has made this fortnight.

Kenin wins maiden Grand Slam

Kenin v Muguruza – as it happened

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[airoasis]

I got 99 problems... palsy is just one | Maysoon Zayid

New Post has been published on https://hititem.kr/i-got-99-problems-palsy-is-just-one-maysoon-zayid-3/

I got 99 problems... palsy is just one | Maysoon Zayid

Hiya, TEDWomen, what’s up. (Cheering) no longer just right ample. Hello, TEDWomen, what’s up? (Loud cheering) My title is Maysoon Zayid, and i’m not drunk, but the health care provider who delivered me used to be. He reduce my mother six exceptional times in six distinct directions, suffocating bad little me in the method. For this reason, i’ve cerebral palsy, which means I shake at all times. Seem. It is laborious. I am like Shakira, Shakira meets Muhammad Ali. (Laughter) CP is just not genetic. It is no longer a start defect. You can’t trap it. No one put a curse on my mother’s uterus, and that i didn’t get it considering the fact that my mum and dad are first cousins, which they are. (Laughter) It only occurs from accidents, like what occurred to me on my delivery day. Now, I need to warn you, i am no longer inspirational. (Laughter) and that i don’t want someone on this room to believe bad for me, considering the fact that at some point for your life, you may have dreamt of being disabled. Come on a experience with me. It’s Christmas Eve, you are at the mall, you’re using round in circles looking for parking, and what do you see? Sixteen empty handicapped areas. (Laughter) And you’re like, "God, are not able to I just be a bit disabled?" (Laughter) additionally, I’ve acquired to tell you, I’ve bought ninety nine issues, and palsy is only one.(Laughter) If there was an Oppression Olympics, i might win the gold medal. I’m Palestinian, Muslim, i’m feminine, i’m disabled, and that i reside in New Jersey. (Laughter) (Applause) in the event you don’t consider better about your self, probably you will have to. (Laughter) Cliffside Park, New Jersey is my place of birth. I’ve always loved the fact that my hood and my agony share the same initials. I also love the truth that if I desired to walk from my apartment to NY city, I would. Plenty of folks with CP don’t walk, however my father and mother failed to consider in "cannot." My father’s mantra was once, "you can do it, yes which you can can." (Laughter) So, if my three older sisters have been mopping, I used to be mopping.If my three older sisters went to public university, my mum and dad would sue the college process and assurance that I went too, and if we didn’t all get A’s, all of us received my mom’s slipper. (Laughter) My father taught me walk once I used to be five years old through placing my heels on his toes and just running. Yet another tactic that he used is he would dangle a dollar invoice in front of me and have me chase it.(Laughter) My interior stripper used to be very robust. (Laughter) Yeah. No, via the first day of kindergarten, I used to be strolling like a champ who had been punched one too oftentimes. (Laughter) developing up, there have been most effective six Arabs in my city, they usually have been all my loved ones. (Laughter) Now there are 20 Arabs in town, and they’re still all my loved ones.(Laughter) i do not think anybody even seen we weren’t Italian. (Laughter) (Applause) This was earlier than 9-11 and before politicians thought it was once appropriate to make use of "I hate Muslims" as a crusade slogan. The people that I grew up with had no challenge with my religion. They did, nevertheless, look very concerned that i’d starve to demise for the duration of Ramadan. I would give an explanation for to them that i have adequate fats to live off of for three entire months, so fasting from dawn to sunset is a section of cake. (Laughter) i’ve tap-danced on Broadway. Yeah, on Broadway. It can be loopy. (Applause) My mother and father couldn’t afford bodily healing, so that they sent me to dancing tuition. I learned tips on how to dance in heels, which means that i can walk in heels.And i am from Jersey, and we’re really worried with being elegant, so if my associates wore heels, so did I. And when my associates went and spent their summer season vacations on the Jersey Shore, i didn’t. I spent my summers in a conflict zone, when you consider that my mothers and fathers were afraid that if we failed to go back to Palestine each single summer time, we’d develop as much as be Madonna. (Laughter) summer holidays customarily consisted of my father trying to heal me, so I drank deer’s milk, I had scorching cups on my again, I was once dunked in the dead Sea, and i bear in mind the water burning my eyes and thinking, "it’s working! It is working!" (Laughter) however one miracle treatment we did find was once yoga. I ought to inform you, it’s very boring, but before I did yoga, I was a stand-up comedian who can’t rise up. And now i will stand on my head. My mum and dad reinforced this notion that I would do some thing, that no dream used to be unimaginable, and my dream was to be on the sunlight hours soap opera "normal sanatorium." (Laughter) I went to institution during affirmative action and got a sweet scholarship to ASU, Arizona State school, since I match each single quota.(Laughter) I was like the pet lemur of the theater department. Every body adored me. I did all of the much less-than-clever kids’ homework, I obtained A’s in all of my courses, A’s in all of their lessons. (Laughter) at any time when I did a scene from "The Glass Menagerie," my professors would weep. However I on no account got forged. Eventually, my senior 12 months, ASU decided to do a exhibit known as "They Dance real gradual in Jackson." it can be a play about a girl with CP. I was once a girl with CP. So I shouting from the rooftops, "i am sooner or later going to get a component! I have cerebral palsy! Free at last! Free at last! Thank God almighty, i’m free at last!" I did not get the section. (Laughter) Sherry Brown obtained the section. I went racing to the top of the theater division crying hysterically, like someone shot my cat, to ask her why, and she stated it was on the grounds that they didn’t believe I might do the stunts. I said, "Excuse me, if I cannot do the stunts, neither can the personality." (Laughter) (Applause) This was once a part that I used to be actually born to play they gave it to a non-palsy actress.College was once imitating life. Hollywood has a sordid historical past of casting ready-bodied actors to play disabled onscreen. Upon graduating, I moved again home, and my first acting gig was once as yet another on a daylight soap opera. My dream was once coming genuine. And that i knew that i might be promoted from "Diner Diner" to "Wacky satisfactory friend" in no time. (Laughter) however as a substitute, I remained a glorified piece of furnishings that you simply would only recognize from the again of my head, and it grew to become clear to me that casting administrators did not hire fluffy, ethnic, disabled actors. They simply hired excellent persons. However there have been exceptions to the rule of thumb. I grew up looking at Whoopi Goldberg, Roseanne Barr, Ellen, and all of these women had one thing in original: they were comedians.So I grew to be a comedian. (Laughter) (Applause) My first gig was once using noted comics from NY city to indicates in New Jersey, and i’ll in no way disregard the face of the first comic I ever drove when he realized that he used to be speeding down the brand new Jersey Turnpike with a chick with CP using him. (Laughter) I’ve performed in clubs in all places the united states, and i have also carried out in Arabic in the center East, uncensored and uncovered. (Laughter) Some humans say i am the first stand-up comic within the Arab world. I under no circumstances like to assert first, but I do recognize that they under no circumstances heard that nasty little rumor that ladies don’t seem to be humorous, and so they find us hysterical.(Laughter) In 2003, my brother from a different mothers and fathers Dean Obeidallah and that i began the brand new York Arab-American Comedy festival, now in its tenth year. Our purpose used to be to change the bad photo of Arab-american citizens in media, at the same time additionally reminding casting directors that South Asian and Arab will not be synonymous. (Laughter) Mainstreaming Arabs used to be much, so much less complicated than conquering the venture towards the stigma against disability. My gigantic wreck got here in 2010. I was once invited to be a visitor on the cable information exhibit "Countdown with Keith Olbermann." I walked in looking like I was going to the promenade, and so they shuffle me into a studio and seat me on a spinning, rolling chair. (Laughter) So I appeared on the stage manager and i am like, "Excuse me, can i have another chair?" and she checked out me and he or she went, "five, four, three, two …" And we were reside, correct? So I needed to grip onto the anchor’s desk so that i wouldn’t roll off the display during the segment, and when the interview was over, I used to be livid.I had finally gotten my threat and that i blew it, and that i knew i would by no means get invited again. But no longer only did Mr. Olbermann invite me again, he made me a full-time contributor, and he taped down my chair. (Laughter) (Applause) One enjoyable truth I discovered even as on the air with Keith Olbermann was once that humans on the web are scumbags. (Laughter) people say youngsters are merciless, however I was never made fun of as a youngster or an adult. Abruptly, my disability on the world extensive net is fair game. I might seem at clips online and notice comments like, "Yo, why’s she tweakin’?" "Yo, is she retarded?" And my favorite, "poor Gumby-mouth terrorist. What does she suffer from? We must fairly pray for her." One commenter even recommended that I add my incapacity to my credits: screenwriter, comedian, palsy.Incapacity is as visual as race. If a wheelchair consumer are not able to play Beyonc, then Beyonc cannot play a wheelchair user. The disabled are the biggest Yeah, clap for that, man. Come on. (Applause) individuals with disabilities are the most important minority on this planet, and we’re probably the most underrepresented in amusement. The doctors said that i wouldn’t walk, however i’m here in entrance of you. Nevertheless, if I grew up with social media, i don’t feel i would be. I am hoping that together, we are able to create extra optimistic snap shots of incapacity within the media and in day-to-day life. Might be if there have been more constructive pics, it would foster much less hate on the net. Or possibly not. Maybe it still takes a village to instruct our kids good. My crooked ride has taken me to some very striking places. I got to walk the crimson carpet flanked through cleaning soap diva Susan Lucci and the long-lasting Loreen Arbus. I received to behave in a movie with Adam Sandler and work with my idol, the mighty Dave Matthews. I toured the world as a headliner on Arabs long gone Wild.I was once a delegate representing the satisfactory state of new Jersey on the 2008 DNC. And i established Maysoon’s youngsters, a charity that hopes to give Palestinian refugee kids a sliver of the hazard my mother and father gave me. However the one second that stands out essentially the most was once after I received — earlier than this moment — (Laughter) (Applause) but the one second that stands out the most was once I acquired to participate in for the man who floats like a butterfly and stings like a bee, has Parkinson’s and shakes just like me, Muhammad Ali. (Applause) (Applause ends) It was once the one time that my father ever noticed me participate in live, and that i devote this speak to his memory.(Arabic) Allah yerhamak yaba. (English) My identify is Maysoon Zayid, and if i will can, you could can. (Cheering) (Applause) .

[batterymonster2021]

I got 99 problems... palsy is just one | Maysoon Zayid

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I got 99 problems... palsy is just one | Maysoon Zayid

Hiya, TEDWomen, what’s up. (Cheering) no longer just right ample. Hello, TEDWomen, what’s up? (Loud cheering) My title is Maysoon Zayid, and i’m not drunk, but the health care provider who delivered me used to be. He reduce my mother six exceptional times in six distinct directions, suffocating bad little me in the method. For this reason, i’ve cerebral palsy, which means I shake at all times. Seem. It is laborious. I am like Shakira, Shakira meets Muhammad Ali. (Laughter) CP is just not genetic. It is no longer a start defect. You can’t trap it. No one put a curse on my mother’s uterus, and that i didn’t get it considering the fact that my mum and dad are first cousins, which they are. (Laughter) It only occurs from accidents, like what occurred to me on my delivery day. Now, I need to warn you, i am no longer inspirational. (Laughter) and that i don’t want someone on this room to believe bad for me, considering the fact that at some point for your life, you may have dreamt of being disabled. Come on a experience with me. It’s Christmas Eve, you are at the mall, you’re using round in circles looking for parking, and what do you see? Sixteen empty handicapped areas. (Laughter) And you’re like, "God, are not able to I just be a bit disabled?" (Laughter) additionally, I’ve acquired to tell you, I’ve bought ninety nine issues, and palsy is only one.(Laughter) If there was an Oppression Olympics, i might win the gold medal. I’m Palestinian, Muslim, i’m feminine, i’m disabled, and that i reside in New Jersey. (Laughter) (Applause) in the event you don’t consider better about your self, probably you will have to. (Laughter) Cliffside Park, New Jersey is my place of birth. I’ve always loved the fact that my hood and my agony share the same initials. I also love the truth that if I desired to walk from my apartment to NY city, I would. Plenty of folks with CP don’t walk, however my father and mother failed to consider in "cannot." My father’s mantra was once, "you can do it, yes which you can can." (Laughter) So, if my three older sisters have been mopping, I used to be mopping.If my three older sisters went to public university, my mum and dad would sue the college process and assurance that I went too, and if we didn’t all get A’s, all of us received my mom’s slipper. (Laughter) My father taught me walk once I used to be five years old through placing my heels on his toes and just running. Yet another tactic that he used is he would dangle a dollar invoice in front of me and have me chase it.(Laughter) My interior stripper used to be very robust. (Laughter) Yeah. No, via the first day of kindergarten, I used to be strolling like a champ who had been punched one too oftentimes. (Laughter) developing up, there have been most effective six Arabs in my city, they usually have been all my loved ones. (Laughter) Now there are 20 Arabs in town, and they’re still all my loved ones.(Laughter) i do not think anybody even seen we weren’t Italian. (Laughter) (Applause) This was earlier than 9-11 and before politicians thought it was once appropriate to make use of "I hate Muslims" as a crusade slogan. The people that I grew up with had no challenge with my religion. They did, nevertheless, look very concerned that i’d starve to demise for the duration of Ramadan. I would give an explanation for to them that i have adequate fats to live off of for three entire months, so fasting from dawn to sunset is a section of cake. (Laughter) i’ve tap-danced on Broadway. Yeah, on Broadway. It can be loopy. (Applause) My mother and father couldn’t afford bodily healing, so that they sent me to dancing tuition. I learned tips on how to dance in heels, which means that i can walk in heels.And i am from Jersey, and we’re really worried with being elegant, so if my associates wore heels, so did I. And when my associates went and spent their summer season vacations on the Jersey Shore, i didn’t. I spent my summers in a conflict zone, when you consider that my mothers and fathers were afraid that if we failed to go back to Palestine each single summer time, we’d develop as much as be Madonna. (Laughter) summer holidays customarily consisted of my father trying to heal me, so I drank deer’s milk, I had scorching cups on my again, I was once dunked in the dead Sea, and i bear in mind the water burning my eyes and thinking, "it’s working! It is working!" (Laughter) however one miracle treatment we did find was once yoga. I ought to inform you, it’s very boring, but before I did yoga, I was a stand-up comedian who can’t rise up. And now i will stand on my head. My mum and dad reinforced this notion that I would do some thing, that no dream used to be unimaginable, and my dream was to be on the sunlight hours soap opera "normal sanatorium." (Laughter) I went to institution during affirmative action and got a sweet scholarship to ASU, Arizona State school, since I match each single quota.(Laughter) I was like the pet lemur of the theater department. Every body adored me. I did all of the much less-than-clever kids’ homework, I obtained A’s in all of my courses, A’s in all of their lessons. (Laughter) at any time when I did a scene from "The Glass Menagerie," my professors would weep. However I on no account got forged. Eventually, my senior 12 months, ASU decided to do a exhibit known as "They Dance real gradual in Jackson." it can be a play about a girl with CP. I was once a girl with CP. So I shouting from the rooftops, "i am sooner or later going to get a component! I have cerebral palsy! Free at last! Free at last! Thank God almighty, i’m free at last!" I did not get the section. (Laughter) Sherry Brown obtained the section. I went racing to the top of the theater division crying hysterically, like someone shot my cat, to ask her why, and she stated it was on the grounds that they didn’t believe I might do the stunts. I said, "Excuse me, if I cannot do the stunts, neither can the personality." (Laughter) (Applause) This was once a part that I used to be actually born to play they gave it to a non-palsy actress.College was once imitating life. Hollywood has a sordid historical past of casting ready-bodied actors to play disabled onscreen. Upon graduating, I moved again home, and my first acting gig was once as yet another on a daylight soap opera. My dream was once coming genuine. And that i knew that i might be promoted from "Diner Diner" to "Wacky satisfactory friend" in no time. (Laughter) however as a substitute, I remained a glorified piece of furnishings that you simply would only recognize from the again of my head, and it grew to become clear to me that casting administrators did not hire fluffy, ethnic, disabled actors. They simply hired excellent persons. However there have been exceptions to the rule of thumb. I grew up looking at Whoopi Goldberg, Roseanne Barr, Ellen, and all of these women had one thing in original: they were comedians.So I grew to be a comedian. (Laughter) (Applause) My first gig was once using noted comics from NY city to indicates in New Jersey, and i’ll in no way disregard the face of the first comic I ever drove when he realized that he used to be speeding down the brand new Jersey Turnpike with a chick with CP using him. (Laughter) I’ve performed in clubs in all places the united states, and i have also carried out in Arabic in the center East, uncensored and uncovered. (Laughter) Some humans say i am the first stand-up comic within the Arab world. I under no circumstances like to assert first, but I do recognize that they under no circumstances heard that nasty little rumor that ladies don’t seem to be humorous, and so they find us hysterical.(Laughter) In 2003, my brother from a different mothers and fathers Dean Obeidallah and that i began the brand new York Arab-American Comedy festival, now in its tenth year. Our purpose used to be to change the bad photo of Arab-american citizens in media, at the same time additionally reminding casting directors that South Asian and Arab will not be synonymous. (Laughter) Mainstreaming Arabs used to be much, so much less complicated than conquering the venture towards the stigma against disability. My gigantic wreck got here in 2010. I was once invited to be a visitor on the cable information exhibit "Countdown with Keith Olbermann." I walked in looking like I was going to the promenade, and so they shuffle me into a studio and seat me on a spinning, rolling chair. (Laughter) So I appeared on the stage manager and i am like, "Excuse me, can i have another chair?" and she checked out me and he or she went, "five, four, three, two …" And we were reside, correct? So I needed to grip onto the anchor’s desk so that i wouldn’t roll off the display during the segment, and when the interview was over, I used to be livid.I had finally gotten my threat and that i blew it, and that i knew i would by no means get invited again. But no longer only did Mr. Olbermann invite me again, he made me a full-time contributor, and he taped down my chair. (Laughter) (Applause) One enjoyable truth I discovered even as on the air with Keith Olbermann was once that humans on the web are scumbags. (Laughter) people say youngsters are merciless, however I was never made fun of as a youngster or an adult. Abruptly, my disability on the world extensive net is fair game. I might seem at clips online and notice comments like, "Yo, why’s she tweakin’?" "Yo, is she retarded?" And my favorite, "poor Gumby-mouth terrorist. What does she suffer from? We must fairly pray for her." One commenter even recommended that I add my incapacity to my credits: screenwriter, comedian, palsy.Incapacity is as visual as race. If a wheelchair consumer are not able to play Beyonc, then Beyonc cannot play a wheelchair user. The disabled are the biggest Yeah, clap for that, man. Come on. (Applause) individuals with disabilities are the most important minority on this planet, and we’re probably the most underrepresented in amusement. The doctors said that i wouldn’t walk, however i’m here in entrance of you. Nevertheless, if I grew up with social media, i don’t feel i would be. I am hoping that together, we are able to create extra optimistic snap shots of incapacity within the media and in day-to-day life. Might be if there have been more constructive pics, it would foster much less hate on the net. Or possibly not. Maybe it still takes a village to instruct our kids good. My crooked ride has taken me to some very striking places. I got to walk the crimson carpet flanked through cleaning soap diva Susan Lucci and the long-lasting Loreen Arbus. I received to behave in a movie with Adam Sandler and work with my idol, the mighty Dave Matthews. I toured the world as a headliner on Arabs long gone Wild.I was once a delegate representing the satisfactory state of new Jersey on the 2008 DNC. And i established Maysoon’s youngsters, a charity that hopes to give Palestinian refugee kids a sliver of the hazard my mother and father gave me. However the one second that stands out essentially the most was once after I received — earlier than this moment — (Laughter) (Applause) but the one second that stands out the most was once I acquired to participate in for the man who floats like a butterfly and stings like a bee, has Parkinson’s and shakes just like me, Muhammad Ali. (Applause) (Applause ends) It was once the one time that my father ever noticed me participate in live, and that i devote this speak to his memory.(Arabic) Allah yerhamak yaba. (English) My identify is Maysoon Zayid, and if i will can, you could can. (Cheering) (Applause) .

[jasonmcgathey]

This has already been a fun, if sprawling and chaotic, section to tackle. Expect frequent changes as I continue to add to and revise the sections. It’s probably going to take a while to get a handle on this page – so just maybe, if you can, try and avoid these orange construction cones and blinking arrows straight out of the Spring-Sandusky interchange mess. If it looks a little skeletal, know that I am working on this as my current main project, and continue hoping some brilliant idea will help me organize it a little better. Until that lightning flash of inspiration arrives, maybe a series of alphabetized districts (with a couple I’m making up just now) and/or major roads is the best way to go:

Arena District (north of Spring, west of High)

Brewery District (south of the interstates, west of High)

E. Broad Street

W. Broad Street

Downtown Proper (area with most of the government buildings, etc, between Broad, the Scioto River, the interstates, and S. 4th Street)

German Village

N. High Street

S. High Street

Uptown District (everything north of Broad that isn’t covered elsewhere)

    -Arena District-

Nationwide Arena

North Market

  -Brewery District-

Though downtown as a whole has been plagued by this to some extent, the Brewery District is unique in that I feel like for 20 plus years now, there’s been this trend of bars blowing into here with a ton of hype, and being packed to the gills in what has always been a happening district – in other words, a theoretically sustainable business – but then the masses stop showing up overnight, a few months down the road, and the place is toast before you know it.

Banana Joe’s – an early lesson in how the night of the week is everything. We came here on a Friday and it was one of the most insane crowds I’ve ever witnessed; a Thursday journey maybe two weeks later had more in common with a funeral home.

Brewmasters Gate (485 S. Front St.) – this would be an excellent example of what I’m talking about. This opened as a positively cavernous club in the early 2000s, and had to be just about the most popular place in town for a good six months. A bunch of us drove down here often during the summer of its heyday, during which time it was unfailingly jam packed with young people throwing down, spilling out to the spacious patio and even the sidewalks. By the following summer, nobody came here, and you were looked at kind of strangely if mentioning it. I’m not sure exactly when it closed, but it didn’t seem to stick around very long after this. Strangely enough, the place survives and has maintained the same name, though it appears this is now just a hall people rent out for events.

Tommy Keegan’s – stumbling across this entry in my journal, from early 1998, is an especially striking example of why I’m glad to have taken so many notes. I actually forgot all about this enterprise and haven’t heard mention of it since.

Tommy Keegan’s looks vaguely like one of those modern faux Irish pubs or something, with its painted cement floor, its dark and generally unfussy atmosphere. Being located underground doesn’t hurt, either. The front, larger room holds most of the bar’s occupants, including some annoying, talent-challenged goober playing acoustic guitar and singing near the door. It’s hard to imagine he would receive much encouragement or tip money even if warbling at the campus BW3. But apparently, they pay him to come here.

The back room is a bit more subdued and we make a bee line for it. They’ve got one of those giant hoppers dispensing free popcorn back here, and even while knowing in the back of your mind it’s only going to make your thirstier, desiring ever more beer, which is why they manipulate you such, in the moment you just don’t care and grab some anyway. Or at least this is what I do.

It’s Keisha’s birthday and we started out with a much larger posse, but the war of attrition has whittled us down to these seven survivors: the birthday girl and Pam, and then Damon, Paul, John H, this Mike guy who’s kind of cool, and me. But somehow there’s this random kid just hanging out by these pool tables, of which the bar has a couple back here, and by some convoluted turn of events he winds up being partners against Paul and me in a few games of standard billiards. Damon is absolutely on fire for some reason, and they totally smoke us from start to finish. But we’ve already exhausted what limited kicks are to be found at Keegan’s, and have agreed to strike off for Victory’s next.

“Stay and play a few games with me!” the kid begs Damon, “we’ll make some money!”

“Ah, we gotta go,” Damon returns with a laugh.

Victory’s – I’ve only actually set foot inside of Victory’s once prior to this, nearly a year ago, that night of Maria’s birthday bus. And while it feels impossible to have memories down here from a year ago, which were pretty crazy yet not really referenced at all since then – neither in my thoughts nor discussions with these guys – I guess it’s another example of how the proverbial moss is growing beneath us, and we’d best keep moving if wishing to avoid entrapment by it.

So the layout here is much different that I remember, but then again, I’d been pretty blasted that night, a singular experience thus far in my Columbus residency. There are two front rooms with one long, connected bar that runs in the middle of each. One side is basically a chill out zone, while the other is encumbered with a dance floor to boogie upon, and a stage for the band. In the back, which is kept much darker, there’s an elevated second dance floor, this time under the purview of a nearby DJ booth, while beyond here the pattern repeats with that exact same scenario out on an exterior patio. The patio is not presently open, however.

Damon and Paul sit off to one side which allows them the perfect vantage point for drinking, smoking, watching and critiquing the band all at once. They call themselves Jonesy, though I’m not exactly sure of the spelling, and these guys do a fantastic job mixing 80’s covers with a few more recent selections, from the likes of Nine Inch Nails. So good, in fact, that these two are debating whether this band isn’t just miming to a tape. Featuring keyboards and electric drums, both elements you don’t see a whole lot of in this city’s live scene, they also boast an impressive live show, although it might actually belong to the bar.

The rest of us are out on the dance floor, hopping around to the music, hoping for a cheap brush of fate with one of these ladies. John breaks away from us to scout the perimeter for any fresh prospects. During this interim I do enjoy the inevitable wayward interactions with Keisha.

“I thought that was so hilarious earlier when my friend got kicked out of the bar, and you were like, gee, that’s terrible!” she’s shouting into my ear at one point, laughing hysterically.

John returns with even better information than this. “There’s a couple outrageously hot chicks on the other dance floor,” he tells me. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

We stroll off to the back room and step up to the elevated floor, casually work our way toward these two honeys. And yes, they are quite exceptional in appearance. Just as we’re about to zero in on them, however, these two dudes swoop in and throw their arms around the girls, clearly some sort of flag panting move. Damn. So the ladies are claimed, but whatever. As more ammunition mounting in this war chest of whatever you want to call it, Keisha and Pam have actually followed us back here, with Mike in tow right behind them. So they climb onto this platform with us, and we continue dancing in this dingy corridor.

-E. Broad Street-

Columbus Dispatch

Columbus Dispatch (62 E. Broad) – Home of the city’s major daily newspaper. I don’t feel like Cleveland bests Columbus in very many categories at all, but this is one exception – The Plain Dealer has always been a better paper. A lot of people, including some of my friends and I, were vaguely horrified when the Dispatch bought up treasured weekly independents, The Other Paper and Alive! True to form, they soon axed The Other Paper, citing overkill. In fairness, however, I will say they didn’t really seem to tinker with Alive! much, far less than expected.

-W. Broad Street-

COSI

Center of Science and Industry. It’s an okay spot, though much less exciting than one might imagine. A trip to the zoo or the Ohio Historical Society easily offers you much more bang for your buck. Only recommended if you’ve never been and are burned out on all the other similar options in town.

Emma digging into chocolate cake at Spaghetti Warehouse

  Spaghetti Warehouse – Treasured destination over the years, mostly because my daughter Emma is somewhat of a spaghetti maniac. Our most notable visit here was probably her 4th birthday party, which featured a memorably random cast of family members. Up above are some photos of her attacking chocolate birthday cake at that party. Maddie appears to be enjoying herself considerably just watching her sister in action. As the name would imply, it’s a great old building with a warehouse vibe, the highlight being this train car with highly in-demand seating.

  -German Village-

The original Max & Erma’s was opened down here in 1958 (739 S. 3rd Street), before becoming a franchise in 1972. Sadly this spot went belly up in 2017 and an operation known as Wunderbar currently calls this address home. But as a consolation prize, there’s no shortage of great restaurants and taverns both, mostly within walking distance of one another, down in this district.

  -Uptown District-

Mitchell’s Steakhouse

    Downtown Columbus This has already been a fun, if sprawling and chaotic, section to tackle. Expect frequent changes as I continue to add to and revise the sections.