#alt caption: just stay until you thought it through

[rose-madder-gaze]

So near the end It may as well be done, So far from you I may as well be gone.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

CTRL+ALT+DECEIT

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; oral, fucking, stalking, hacking, threats, implied violence.

This is dark!Jake Jensen x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You find your pictures on someone else’s Insta but that’s not the only thing he’s stolen.

Note: Yay, another Jensen fic at last. I’m probably gonna try to work in more one shots between my series. I’m looking at Andy Barber, Ransom Drysdale, or Lee Bodecker right now for next week but we’ll see.

Thanks to everyone for sticking around and putting up with me and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

The chirp of the chat pierced your eardrum once more as you ignored it for the spreadsheet of dates on your other monitor. Working from home could be both peaceful and distracting but the third bing had you muting and pushing your headset to your neck with a grumble. You switched windows as the chat box blinked.

‘So why didn’t u tell me u had a bf?’ Zia’s bubble blipped up followed by impatient emojis.

“Wat r u talking bout?’ you typed back and clicked back to the spreadsheet to update the status of each course. That noise came again and you flipped back.

‘I’m not stupid! Come on. He’s far away but he’s cute.’

You frowned and tapped the space bar lightly. You were utterly confused. The only activity in your daily life were the general notifications from Tindr. You repeated the question and she sent an emoji rolling its eyes.

‘I’m serious.’ you replied.

She sent a link and then a laughing GIF attached to another bubbled response, ‘I’m not buyin it.’

You clicked on the hyperlink and a new tab opened. You scrolled down on the Insta as the air was knocked out of you at the sight of your own face. Not only were their pics taken from your public profile but several you’d never even posted. Your skin crawled and the bing sounded again.

‘So… an online thing huh.’ Zia pressed on.

‘I gotta work.’ you closed out of the window entirely but stayed on the Insta.

You scrolled through about a dozen or so selfies of you, each labeled as ‘missing my lady’ or ‘she’s so sweet, sending me pics to keep me company’. Your stomached roiled with mortification and the unsettling sensation of intrusion. It was easy enough to guess you’d been hacked but to think this was what the creep did with it was even more startling.

You changed the password on your Insta and went through the process of doing so with all of your accounts and ran a scan on your PC. You would likely have to file a ticket for a proper inspection with a specialist. You couldn’t help but shake as you went back to the profile after checking your bank account and PayPal to make sure it wasn’t worse than just pics.

You went back to the profile and found photos of the culprit. His spiky blond hair and glasses were unsurprising and his comic book tee shirt was even less. Your disgust was quickly replaced with anger as you hit the chat icon above his info.

‘Hey, jackass, care to tell me how you have my photos on your profile?!’

The read icon appeared almost and you saw him typing. It stopped and then started again.

‘You’re so beautiful, I wanted to share it with everyone.’

You scoffed at the message and cringed at the screen. ‘Are you nuts? Like actually. You stole my photos! You hacked me. Creep.’

You blocked him immediately after hitting send and logged out. You opened Excel again and tried to focus on the coloured cells. You could hardly process what you were doing as your phone began to vibe on the corner of your desk. It didn’t let up and you couldn’t focus past the incessant buzzing.

You snatched it up and several messages covered the screen as you unlocked it. ‘You really think that’s gonna work’; ‘You can’t block me’... several in a similar vein that you deleted before blocking the number. You silenced your phone and turned back to your monitor.

Suddenly the screen went black and you blinked. You hit the keyboard and clicked, assuming it fell asleep. It lit up again but all you saw was yourself staring back. Your mouth fell open and you ripped the clip-on cam from atop your monitor. You disconnected it as the notepad opened and typing flicked up across the white space.

‘I didn’t want it to be like this.’

You could move the mouse or backspace. All control was lost and you sat there helplessly watching the scrawl.

‘I think we’d be really good together if you only gave me a chance. Can’t you see I worship you?’

Your phone began to shake constantly and a private number flashed. You picked it up and hollered into the speaker, “leave me alone”. You hung up but it kept on and your screen turned to black once more. Your PC was still on but there was no reaction from the machine.

Fuck, you sat back and looked at your phone. You couldn’t even call work to tell them because the damn thing wouldn’t stop ringing. You put your head in your hands and grunted in frustration. How the fuck did all this happen?

🖱️

After your initial panic died down, you disconnected your tower and shut off your phone. You left your cell behind as it was just as useless. You hauled the PC down to IT at your work and filled out the ticket without giving intricate details on everything the weirdo had taken.

You left with a borrowed laptop. You wouldn’t sign into your personal accounts and stick to the company portal. You were embarrassed but happy to have a temporary solution. You got home and set up the new computer and reconfigured your wi-fi. You finished the last of the day’s work and ended the day with a glass of wine.

When you dared to turn your phone on again the next morning, it was filled with notifications from all platforms but each one you clicked on errored and prompted you to sign-in. All your new passwords were wrong and you knew it was him. 

You checked the Insta and found a screenshot on his profile from the day before, your mouth agape in horror that could easily mistaken for surprise.

‘Her face when you pop the question on the call’. The caption made your stomach curdle and you nearly flung the phone away. You couldn’t comment without logging in or message. So you created a shell account with a throwaway email you used on Reddit.

‘Why won’t you stop?’ you sent the message through as you waited for your coffee to brew.

‘Stop what?’ he added a winky face with his reply and you growled.

‘You know who this is! Why are you doing this?’

‘Hmmm…’ he let the message hang there and you sat down with your mug and listened to the birds outside. ‘Imagine what someone else would do with everything I have.’

‘Look at what you’re doing. You’re ruining my life.’

‘Ruining? Sweetie, I’m watching over you. Protecting you.’

Your nostrils flared and you burnt your tongue on the coffee and planted it on the table so it sloshed over the sides.

‘Love you, sweetie. See ya soon.’

The chat box turned grey as you realised he blocked you. That pissed you off more than anything and you lobbed your phone away with a shout of anguish. This guy was fucked!  

You were shaking so much you couldn’t even drink your coffee. You got up and paced until you could think straight. You dialed into work and told them you were taking the day off for a personal emergency and shut down your phone. You were too afraid he would find a way onto your work laptop and you didn’t want to have to explain that to IT too.

🖱️

Zia showed up on Saturday and she wasn’t happy. She buzzed up and banged on your door impatiently. You let her in and she crossed her arms over the strap of her purse as she crooked her hip.

“I know I shouldn’t have snooped but if you’re mad at me, you should’ve just said so. I would’ve backed off,” she scowled.

“I’m not mad,” you said as you backed into the front room and dragged your feet over the rug.

“Sure, you’re just ignoring all my messages by accident,” she stayed at the other side of the room.

“Not exactly, no,” you shrugged, “it’s a long story.”

“And you couldn’t shoot me a message to say that at least?”

“Look, I’m stressed the fuck out. I’m sorry but the only reason I didn’t answer you is because I can’t.” 

“You can’t?”

“I can’t even turn my phone on anymore.”

“What--”

“Just--” you touched your temples, “I don’t even know how to explain--”

“Jesus, are you okay?” her anger slaked away as her voice softened.

“No, I’m not,” you sniffed, “I’ve been trapped in this apartment and I can’t think straight and I can’t even talk to anyone because my phone and my life is totally fucked.”

“How about we get a coffee and you can tell me once you’ve calmed down,” she said, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so worked up.”

“You don’t know how bad it is. I really fucked up,” you whined, “I don’t even know how it happened.”

“Is this about the boyfriend?”

You huffed and shook your head, “I told you, he’s not my boyfriend-- Let me get dressed.”

After you felt presentable enough to leave the apartment, the thought of getting away ushered you down the winding stairwell and onto the sidewalk. You and Zia walked down to the cafe on the corner where you always overspent on their specialty drink and caught up.

You ordered but when you tried to use your card, the machine beeped in rejection. You tried again but still no luck. Zia offered to pay and you promised you’d pay her back. Anxiety pitted deep in your stomach as you sat. You’d have to call the bank and figure out why eight dollars would bounce.

“So,” Zia said as she shaded her eyes against the sunlight streaming onto the open patio, “he’s not your boyfriend?”

“I don’t even know the dude,” you hissed as you almost overturned your cup, “Zee, those pictures, they were all on my phone. I never sent them to anyone. I don’t even know his real name and when I confronted him, he crashed my whole system and blew up my phone. I haven’t been able to log into anything because of him.”

“You’re shitting me,” she chuckled.

“Zee, I’m not fucking kidding,” you blinked, “don’t you think if I was dating some dude out in who knows where, you’d be the first to know? You think I’m wasting my time with the idiots on Tindr for fun?”

“No way,” she scoffed.

“Zia, look me in the eye,” you said as you gave her a stern look, “I’m freaking the fuck out.”

“Did you call the police?” she asked.

You sat back and closed your eyes. You were so swept up in the panic, you hadn’t even thought. You could report it to the police, just get a record of it even if they didn’t do anything else. You heard horror stories of hackers and how little could be done but you had to at least try.

“I guess I should go down to the station today,” you ran your fingertips along your chin, “I don’t know, I felt so alone, I thought--”

“And call your bank right now,” she slid her phone over, “figure out what’s going on with your accounts.”

You took her cell and dialed the number on the back of the card. You dragged your finger down the side of your cup as you listened to the automated message and hit the buttons to direct you to customer service. The hold song bubbled in your head and finally picked up as you finished the last of your mocha.

You explained the issue after giving your information as Zia sat patiently across from you. She watched the other patrons and looked out across the street as you waited on the representative on the other end.

“Looks like your account has been locked. Your savings and checking have been placed on hold citing possible fraud,” the woman explained.

“Well, can’t you unlock them? Why would they be flagged?”

“Hmm, well I see no suspicious spending so possibly… it could be due to an external lock, not us.”

“What does that mean?”

“I can’t speak to that. Have you received any communications from the Revenue service?”

“Revenue service? I don’t--no,” you gulped.

“I’m sorry, there’s nothing else I can tell you,” she said, “you should consider contacting federal services.”

You hung up and handed Zia her phone back. “Apparently, I’m under investigation for fraud? I don’t know.”

“Shit,” she took her cell, “are you sure?”

“It sounded like it but-- I gotta check my credit card,” you stood and grabbed your empty cup and your purse.

You stormed down the street to the ATM at the corner and inserted your card. LOCKED the machine made a hideous noise and you pulled out your card in irritation. You put your wallet and touched the sides of your neck as the heat swelled through you.

“I don’t understand--”

“Um, you should see this,” Zia said.

Zia turned her screen towards you and your heart dropped to your toes. There was a picture softened by a blush Insta filter and the caption read, ‘just got into town, surprising bae with flowers’. Over the cluster of petals at the bottom of the image were you and Zia sitting at the cafe patio.

You spun and searched around for any sign of the man and the bouquet. You could hardly breath as it felt like you were being squished between invisible walls. You clapped your hand against the wall and steadied yourself as Zia gently rubbed your arm.

“Let’s go to the station,” you croaked as tears welled in your eyes, “please.”

🖱️

The police told you everything you expected. Even as you showed them the photos and explained how you never met that man in your life, they only offered you words on a piece of paper. They’d file the report and follow-up in case of any further escalation. It was a non-answer, a cold shrug.

Zia went home with you as she offered to stay the night. You gladly accepted and the two of you cozied up on your bed and spent the night watching early 00s rom coms. You found it hard to relax even with her there. You couldn’t stop thinking about how close he’d been without you even knowing.

You at last began to doze off as Reese Witherspoon triumphed and exhausted by the endless maelstrom of dread, you slipped into a deep but perilous sleep. You were locked in limbo between waking and slumber, almost as if you could hear everything around you but remained blind and unknowing all the same.

You woke with a start as you felt like you were falling. You sat up and reached to the other side of the bed. Zia was gone. She must have got up to get water or use the bathroom. You took a breath and turned your legs over the edge. You got up groggily and lumbered across the room, your mouth dry and head aching. Some tylenol and water would do you well.

You hesitated as you noticed the bloom of light just around the corner from your doorway. Zia must be having trouble sleeping, you guessed as you kept on. As you came in sight of the front room, you heard a whimper and you backed up against the wall as tall figure stood before the coffee table. The flowers laid across the wood, slightly crumpled from a struggle.

As Zia whined, he jabbed her with his foot and she grunted around the rag tied around her mouth. Her arms and legs were bound behind her as the man loomed over her. You recognized his blond hair and glasses, the menacing blue eyes as he raised his chin and crossed his arms.

“Been waiting on you,” he stepped over her, “I was disappointed when I realised it was her. Good friend though, hanging around…”

“Don’t hurt her, please. What do you want?”

“You can’t figure that out?” he taunted, “huh, I’m sure you can guess what it will take for me to leave her in one piece.”

Zia wiggled and received another boot. You pushed yourself forward and he stepped closer, predatory as he dropped his arms and clenched then unclenched his fists. He chuckled as you stopped short and gaped up at him.

“She’s cute,” he said, “she can join us if that makes it easier for you.”

“You’re disgusting,” you snarled and winced as he reached out to touch your cheek. You fought not to shove him away, your eyes on Zia’s bound figure.

“Play nice and I will,” he warned, “every time I hurt her, that’s on you. I wish I didn’t have to do this to show you how much I love you.”

You shook your head as your lip trembled. He pressed his palms to your cheek and ran his thumb along your lips. He leaned in and you cowered as you realised how big he was. You didn’t expect that looking at him from the other side of a screen.

“Do we put on a show for her or did you want a little privacy?”

“You won’t get away with this,” you hissed.

“Oh yeah? I locked you out of your social media, your pc, your bank… do you really want to see how far I can take this?”

He smothered your murmured answer with his mouth and kissed you gruffly. He pulled away and looked you in the eye. He bit his lip and hummed.

“So, do we do this here?”

“You’re sick,” you grabbed his hand and wrenched it away from your face. You yanked him and directed him to the bedroom, “you monster.”

“Now come on,” he twisted his wrist around and grabbed your elbow, “I could’ve killed her. Don’t think I won’t.”

You quivered as he forced you back into your bedroom, the street lights casting shadows between your curtains. He flung you ahead of him, as strong as his thick arms would suggest. You stumbled and caught yourself on the side of the bed. You turned as the door slammed and he prowled towards you like a wild cat.

“Well,” he threw his hands up and you caught a glint of light against the lens of his glasses, “you want me to undress you or you think you can handle that, sweetie?”

You puffed in repulsion and looked away from him. Even in the dark, you could feel his eyes on you. You jittered as you reached to the neck of your loose tee and slowly raised it over your head. You dropped it to crumple on the floor and you touched the top of your shorts. You heard him moving around and shied away as he flipped the switch and light shone across the room.

You pushed down your shorts as you heard a thump from the next room. His jaw twitched as his eyes lingered on you and he reluctantly glanced away. He swung the door open and stormed out into the front room. You went to the door and heard his snarl.

“Stop fucking moving,” he rasped, “every time I have to tell you, I’ll pop another out.”

Zia gave a muffled sob as you heard a sickly crack and you hurried to look around the wall into the room. He blocked your sight with his broad chest and pointed you back to the room.

“I didn’t say you could leave the room,” he spun you and slapped your bare ass, “fast, fast, fast… before I lose my patience.”

Your skin stung from the strike and you tripped through the doorway as he followed quickly. Another slam and he poked you further into the room with his knuckle. You stepped away from him and tried to cover yourself as you faced him in horror.

He quickly swooped his shirt over his head and revealed a buff chest thick with blond hair. He kicked off his shoes and fumbled to undo his fly. He tilted his head as he looked you over and groped himself through his jeans.

“You know what to do,” he said, “I’ve seen the way you touch yourself… cyber security 101, cover your webcam.”

You shuddered as he beckoned you closer. He stopped you and put your hands on the waist of his jeans. He leaned in and nuzzled your temple as his hot breath seeped into your goosebumped skin.

“My turn,” he pushed on your hands until you pulled down the denim on your own strength.

He stepped out of his jeans and snapped the elastic of his boxers. You stood and latched onto those shakily. He ran his fingers along your arms as you pulled them past his erection and they fell to the floor with a whisper. You didn’t look down, instead staring past him as his hand swept up to cup your tits.

His fingers crawled up your chest and his hands wrapped around your neck. He squeezed and turned you so that your back was to the bed. He marched you backwards as you felt his dick bobbing between your bodies. You gasped as he pushed you down onto your mattress, your legs dangling over the edge as he came up to straddle you.

“Such a good girl,” he taunted, “look at you… I bet you’re wet already.”

He pulled a hand away and stroked his length as he raised himself on his knees. He clung to your neck as he leaned over you and planted his hand on the bed above you. He hovered his dick over your head and you closed your eyes.

“Put it in your mouth,” he ordered, “now, or I’m putting it in your ass.”

You reached up blindly and angled his tip against your lips. He dipped his hips down and you choked as he prodded at your throat. Your legs twitched as he forced his cock past your gag reflex and your whole body tensed at the intrusion.

He balanced on the hand above your head and the one on your neck. He thrust harder and harder as sloppy sucking reverberated around the room between his dark groans.

“That’s it,” he purred, “look at you taking my cock. I can only imagine how tight that cunt of yours is.”

Your eyes welled and you flicked your lashes as you tried to bat them away. You kept your hand at the base of his dick as you tried to ease his motion. He ignored your reluctance and only delved deeper as he brought himself to his limit, your lips touching the fuzz along his pelvis.

When you couldn’t breath, you slapped his hard stomach and he reared out of you abruptly. You coughed up spit as he sat back on his heels and released you. He huffed as he looked down at his glistening dick and climbed off of you.

“Stand up, turn around,” he snarled as his eyes flashed. 

His glasses were low on his nose and he slipped them off entirely and folded them up on your night table. He squinted as he watched you stand and turn stiffly. He smacked his hand in the middle of your back and pushed you over impatiently. He stepped closer and tapped his tip against your cunt as you were exposed to him.

He bent his legs and poked along your slick folds. You were wet enough for him to glide in and fill you up completely. He was so big it was painful and you arched your back as you tried to take it. He pulled back and slammed into you harshly. You let out a garble and he repeated the motion, taking you off your feet.

He leaned over you and grabbed your knees, lifting them on the bed as he urged you forward. His hand brushed up over your ass and he pressed between your shoulder blades until your face was flush to the mattress, your arms bent around you like a broken doll.

He thrust again and the loud slap made you wince. He jerked his hips roughly until he found his motion, rutting into you with hissy breaths as his other hand groped your ass. He hummed as your body shook before him, ruled by his touch as your walls clenched him.

He pushed his thumb down between your cheeks and circled your asshole. You strained and lifted your head in alarm. His other hand quickly stretched over your crown and pinned your face to the bed. He felt along your cunt and slickened his thumb before trailing back to your puckered ring.

He pushed lightly at first and as he broke through you gasped and whined. You gripped the blankets as he moved his thumb in and out of you, his hips still rocking steadily into you. He slid his thumb out entirely and prodded with two fingers instead. Before you could react, he forced them inside and you cried out in surprise and pain.

“I know you want it, sweetheart,” he groaned, “I can feel…” he kept fucking you, “I can fucking hear it.”

Your holes tightened around you as he carried the pace. A new pressure began to bloom inside of you, unlike anything you’d felt before. The burning in your ass and the stretching of your cunt mingled to an agonized bliss. You sobbed into the blankets as you came uncontrollably around him, shamed by the unwanted release.

“Fuck,” he drew out the word as both his hand and his hips sped up, “look at you cumming for me. Cumming for this creep.”

You moaned and curled your fingers around the duvet tighter. You felt the same knotting deep inside and you came again as he reached a tantamount. This time, you gushed around his cock and felt the deluge down your thighs as the noise grew wetter and louder.

“Look at you, sweetheart, you can’t handle it, can you?” He snorted as he sucked in a breath suddenly and his hips staggered.

He pushed his fingers deeper and kept them there as he fucked you as hard as he could. He slammed into your cunt over and over. Your hips throbbed with each tilt of his pelvis and you smothered your cries as you felt him coat your walls in his release. 

He stopped just as suddenly and dragged his fingers out of your ass. He leaned against you until your legs collapsed and fell onto you with a sigh. He covered your body with his as his shallow breaths hazed around you. 

Your own heart raced as you stretched your arms out stiffly and quivered. You tried to pull yourself from beneath him. He kept you pinned under his weight and jolted you with a cruel thrust.

“Oh, we’re not done, sweetheart,” he muttered along the shell of your ear, “not even close.”

[retphienix]

It's been 6 years :)

On March 30th, 2015 I decided I wanted a gaming side blog. (so we're early, but shush, it's the month for me)

I didn't know what I'd use it for exactly, but I had ideas- something I always have even if most of them only get as far as daydreamin' or writing out before closing them :P

For proof on the lack of direction the blog initially had- the March 30th date is the anniversary of my first post, an in-depth and lengthy review of Dragon Warrior Monsters for the GBC.

If you know the blog then you know "Extremely long and in-depth reviews" aren't the norm around here. As a matter of fact, that first post is the ONLY one I've done!

The closest I've come to ever repeating that would be the (word of the day) Directionless video I put out on Hades to get a grip on the concept of making videos, but that wasn't nearly as much of a 'review' as that first post is.

Tangent, definitely planning on trying my hand at videos some more for the foreseeable future. Probably not gonna use the tagline Full Impressions that I tossed as a whim for the Hades video but yeah- I'm excited to try my hand at a few videos :) tangent over.

It didn't take me long to come up with what I'd like to do for the blog though :)

A few months later I liveblogged a challenge run of FFT where I used only Ramza- a solo run. - Which maybe only happened because I tried a nuzlocke run a year prior on my main account-

(Nuzlocke | FFT challenge run)

Thanks to that haphazard liveblog experiment I started to realize a couple things which became the primary motivators behind this blog.

1) I LOVE sharing experiences. No brainer, I'm sure, but being able to share my experiences, and compare them with others' experiences, and just that mutual sharing is uplifting and feels good to do.

2) Liveblogging is an EXCEPTIONAL motivator to buckle down and play all those games I said I'd play (cue everyone laughing because I'm still way behind and have an immeasurable backlog).

But I mean that, on both respects. I have plenty of motivators toward the blog today, but if I were to be concise it's pretty much "It's easier to beat games if I liveblog them- otherwise I get distracted and play other games" and "I love sharing experiences and thoughts with people about my favorite thing- games."

Since 2015 I've tackled around 70 games as full playthroughs, and an untold ton as one offs or just to ramble about for a bit.

I've had a lot of highlights over the years, and I don't talk much about it as an overall experience so I thought for the anniversary I'd try to do just that. Not everything- I can't say I have photographic memory that would bring all of it up without prompting after all :P But whatever comes to mind as I browse some of my old stuff- as well as some thoughts on what I'd like to see in the future.

It's gonna be a bit self-centric I assume as I type this preamble to it, so let me say outright that this blog wouldn't be half of what it is without all the people who've given it the time of day over the years.

From recommending games they love or appreciate, to comparing thoughts, to offering kind words for analysis I've done over the years, to pointing out when I'm dumb and misread a situation :P- to, yes, even the people who decided "Fuck this guy's ramble" and deleted my captions before reblogging my gifs way back during Hamtaro (Of COURSE I remember that! It's amusing lol).

This is better because of others, because of the interactions and the people I've gotten the chance to chat with or befriend. It's just a liveblog more or less, my own little bit of fun I toss out for myself if for anyone- so seeing others enjoy this or that from the work I put into sharing my experiences or thoughts is always a joy in itself :)

Anyway, onto selfishly rambling about some tidbits of the past :)

Also sorry but no, opted to not shove a ton of photos in, it does have a handful of links to old posts though :P

This'll be disorganized as heck as I'll add to it over time before I feel it's worth posting (or the tumblr post editor becomes a hassle and more or less forces me to).

First~

FFT Solo Ramza Challenge: Considering it was roughly the first thing this blog has done, it's also something that's stuck in my head a lot more clearly than most of the other stuff I've done to be honest lol.

In truth, this is partially because FFT is my favorite game, bar none. But it's also because the whole experience was pretty new to me. Prior to it I had really only done one self-imposed-challenge that wasn't requested by the game in some manner and that was a nuzlocke run of Blue version.

So adding a challenge to my favorite game was a fantastic experience!

Notes I just wanted to say today about that run: If anyone enjoys FFT I honestly recommend giving it a shot for the unique story it lends itself to. I do recommend skipping the rules until after the second battle but that's up to YOU to decide.

My first post on the subject is me complaining about spending 4 hours grinding out the second fight and, despite hyperbole being my natural state, that was NOT hyperbole.

It DID take 60~ restarts to beat. It DID take 4 hours. The reason is that that 2nd battle is RNG as HECK, you HAVE to have Delita do some meaningful actions, you HAVE to have the enemies miss and make poor plays, you damn near HAVE to crit a few instances to save yourself from taking too much damage.

It's a numbers game to the extreme, so I wouldn't fault anyone for 'cheating' and skipping the 2nd fight for the ruleset lol.

The memory that stands out the most for that run is actually isolated in a post in which Ramza (Purrick in this run) talks like a total badass as just ONE DUDE running into a room full of enemies. I just think on that as a great encapsulated view of what it was like. The run started off face grindingly difficult, but because FFT is a game that offers so much freedom to the player it was extremely easy to 'break' the game into making Purrick overpowered as hell.

That's something I love about some tactical RPGs, I love having the ability to play smart so that I can play stupid later on, and breaking the game into making him one shot god is certainly a good payoff for playing smart early on :P

RetQuick: I miss RetQuick, it was primarily a short experiment I did in 2015 where I'd play a game for a short span of time (REALLY short, like 10-20 minutes) and record that for the purpose of making gifs and saying a short piece on what I thought.

It's one of those formats where the purpose was pretty shallow- but had a reason. I wanted to try making some gifs with some tools that existed online, so I made an excuse to do just that.

I also wanted to play a TON of games, usually through emulation on my sister's PSP, and this let me do that.

These two minor goals came together and so I spent a while making RetQuicks which were honestly more fun to make than they had any right to be. I mean the gifs were tedious but the playing? The thought sharing? The end product ocassionally having more appeal than just a photoset? It was fun.

I'm thinking whenever I have trouble picking a game for the blog I'll revisit the format... sorta.

I already reused it for a short stint to show clips I had no plan on expanding into a playthrough, but that died as well as it was too similar to Tidbits posts (another tag I no longer really use).

My thought is to rebrand retquick as something of a tryout for what game comes next. Play a handful of my backlog games for an hour or so each and say some thoughts before saying which one I'll continue as the main game for that period of time.

Old Tag Stuff: One of those things that only sticks to me since I made the decisions but it's always funny for me to look back on my old posts because I was apprehensive as hell toward making my posts visible. The reason my early playthroughs on the My-Tags page are variants of Ret instead of just "The name of the game so people can find this post" is because I felt like a liveblog would just spam the tag to hell-

Something I don't remotely feel bad for doing anymore.

So I avoided getting any sort of spotlight for quite a while on the blog for little reason.

Why Retphienix?: This is just a dumb thought I wanted to share and I'm sure I've said before.

It stands for retro!

Yeah!

Ain't that dumb and also not a real shorthand? lol

I think I have some sort of deer in headlights anxiety towards naming things, I mean do you think I think Full Impressions is a good summation for a video? I don't. But perhaps that's overshadowed by the other inexperiences and anxiety driven decisions that had- doesn't matter.

Retphienix is Retphienix because I sat there in 2015 and thought "Well... what do I name an alt account?"

My main is Redphienix, which yes, is ALSO a terrible name AND is misspelled. But it's that because of sentimental reasons. As a kid I misspelled Redphoenix when making my gamertag (I knew how to spell Phoenix back then as well, I was too excited about xbox live and misspelled it) and it's become something of a sentimental misspelling.

So I wanted to make a mix on that for my game blog, but I had no idea what. In the end I thought "RetroPhienix? I don't know. Retphienix is closer to Redphienix. I'll do that" and so it was done.

And just like how Redphienix is both bad and misspelled but exists because of sentimental reasons- Retphienix has acquired the same 'flavor' in my eye lol.

Aspirations for the blog: I have no immediate ramp up plans or road map or whatever, and in truth I'll be happy if the blog stays just as it is forever- up until tumblr ends- I cry over lost posts- and I reopen it on another platform.

But I do have blurry half-considered daydreams that I'd like to see happen for the blog through some hard work or shifts on my part.

One is something I'm already doing kinda, hence my embarrassing means of bringing it up a lot lately. Videos- I want those. I wanna make some looks back on series people don't talk about that I enjoy, I want to make videos sharing my thoughts on games I beat for the blog (like what full impressions kinda was, but I don't think they'll have a unified name from here on out). Maybe retrospectives, but mostly when I think of making a video tied to retphienix or me in general it's me looking at a game that said something to me, and saying it louder with my own interpretations on it.

You know the kind, videos where they talk about a video game but not the whole thing- just a singular message they really heard loud and clear from it intentionally or not. I dig those and I know I end a lot of games having plenty to say that could be directed into such a format.

We'll see.

And I'm along for the ride on that one as well- currently I'm keeping my eyes on whatever is directly next, which happens to be "I plan on playing Omori, if it clicks as something to talk about I would like to take a shot at that in a video too!"

The other is that I'd like to build a small community. Wouldn't know the first thing on doing that in a modern sense, but just a little online friend group to chat with and play games together. Something that could open up multiplayer and coop experiences being better shared on the blog and would just in general expand my gaming to what it used to be back on the 360 when I had a large group to play with.

Since the 360 era ended I've pretty much closed off- stopped playing competitive games due to lack of interest- and slowed down to playing all games either solo, with randoms (and no mic usually), or with my cousin. It's a rare instance when I play with some good people like @gamesception or another friend of mine, John.

When I diverted from playing competitive games nonstop toward other genres I didn't intend to also cut out all my online gaming buds, it just kinda happened, and I never really put any effort into rectifying that.

So more or less I'd like to one day sit down and work on a discord server, and then buck up and put the leg work in to make some gamin' buds again, but that's such a vague concept anymore.

Sounds all sad and what not but it's more ambivalent, I made decisions that

changed how gaming worked for me after the 360 and this is just where it landed for better and worse- I'd just like to see if I can make it a little better :P

General things I think when I think retphienix: Honestly? I think of how much fun I've had over the years and how thankful I am to have had an outlet that encouraged me to explore more of the medium.

I REALLY love games. I went to college for games, I've written LEAGUES about games, I've played countless games, my childhood was games, my adult life is games- games games games yada yada yada.

So when I think of retphienix I think of how without it I probably wouldn't have explored a lot of the corners of gaming that I have.

I genuinely, and I mean this, might not have sat down and beaten FF7 for myself and would have considered the amount I played as a kid to be enough.

I might not have played Chrono Trigger yet, and I KNOW I wouldn't have played Chrono Cross, and I'm happy as hell to have played both of those. CT was a mind blowing moment for me that showed me just how good an RPG can be, and CC gave me miles to think of in terms of innovating an RPG and how beholden to the narrative a sequel should be (I don't feel CC should have been chrono at all lol).

I DEFINITELY wouldn't have given New Vegas another chance. And I know I'm a sourpuss on NV, I've been that way since I maxed my achievements on the 360 for it, but replaying it really did reveal to me how exceedingly negative I was being.

My memories had become "It's brown and a boring location >:(" and "The factions all suck and it doesn't do anything with the idea of bad factions >:(" and became "It's... a little brown guys, not a big fan of the area" and "They didn't do enough with exploring the gray factions" while adding "Wait. This is pretty damn fun. And 90% of the additions are stellar. And I forgot about Dead Money, my favorite dlc in any game ever with a story that tears at my heart every time I think of it, NV good actually?"

Faxanadu would have remained a cool game I saw on SSFF and not a game I played to the end and fell in love with the aesthetic feel it has!

Also that's a game I cheated like crazy on lol, I would do it again! Save state scumming games meant to be rudely difficult is only fair :P

I probably would have never sat down to play through Windwaker which was such a positive and uplifting experience that I now get the most relaxed and warm feeling in my heart when I see those blue waves.

There's so many experiences I would have left on the table in favor of like... putting more hours into a live service title or something.

Maybe, and no offense to my cousin or anyone else playing it, but maybe I'd be no-lifing World of Warcraft nonstop just stagnating my interest toward the skinner box mechanics of an MMO?

Some offense, actually but lightheartedly lol.

But beyond the entire games I've played for the blog, when I think retphienix I picture all the time making gifs, all those games I played on the PSP for short stints, buying a retron 5 to add to what I could explore and being stoked when they shipped a freebie box of old controllers to go with it, getting angry at the retron for being a Piece Of Shit lol, crying at the end of damn near every game with an emotional story because I'm a big emotional mess of a person who finds investing and crying at a story way too easy thanks to empathy pulls, oh!-

Getting excited whenever I found that I had a "*controversial*" opinion that no one would care about lol. Like the one that comes to mind is that I thoroughly believe that Dragon Ball Z II: Gekishin Freeza!! for the NES is WAY better than the fandom recognized and appreciated sequel/remake Dragon Ball Z: Legend of the Super Saiyan!

How many people do you hear talking about either game, let alone saying the NES game that is roughly half of the SNES remake is the better one :P But I stand by that! The SNES one is a remake of DBZ1 and 2 for the NES but it loses all the charm and some of the fun of the NES ones by being a lackluster SNES game!

lol

I admitted wholeheartedly that this post would be a lit-

little directionless (gotta love the new tumblr poster making me break sentences like that), but to sum things up.

It's been 6 years. It's been an untold amount of work to be honest- liveblogging a game, at least for me, hasn't been the easiest thing. It's a lot of thinking out my thoughts (heh), it's a lot of learning tools to make the capturing process possible, it's a lot of experimenting, it's a lot of writing and editing, and, well, sometimes it's just tough.

I mean I went to school for coding, not video editing, not writing, not image processing, not this or that- but this hobby has introduced a lot of things even if only at a VERY base level (I admit fully to using online alternatives to make gifs for instance).

I learned a lot about, well, a lot of things in order to use this blog to learn more about games- and all that work has become part of why I've loved all 6 years of this blog.

6 years of gaming, work, and you all- and it's been worth the investment :) Here's to many more and all of you whether you stumble upon this post or not- literally anyone who's interacted in these 6 years, thank you, and anyone who hasn't I offer you well wishes as well.

<3

[dashielldeveron]

Viper VIII: Inter Vivos

*author slaps bumper sticker across ass that reads I BREAK FOR QUARANTINE* 

Summary: You have a thought that only Steve Urkel and black-out drunks can have: did I do that?

Warnings: swears, the law. Murder/death. Stupid internet comments.

Show (3719) Comments on “There is Nothing New Under the Sun, But You Are New in Your Conglomeration.”

skellingtonbabey: thanks for putting all of the *gestures vaguely* into historical context. no one’s ever bothered to explain this shit to me, especially in such simple and thorough language. it’s like every other resource i try to learn from is stylistically designed to make me more confused.

readyplayer69: Just because it’s from the 60s and is racist doesn’t mean that it doesn’t have intrinsic value based on the goal towards which it was working. You’re a fucking lunatic. I have a degree in political science, so I know what the fuck I’m about. Though some of the protests may have excluded the minorities you’re talking about, it doesn’t mean that they weren’t ultimately working towards good fucking policies for everyone involved. It’s not like they were doing anything important then anyway; white people had to be the mouthpiece for…Read More

volcanolesbian: bro have u seen the incels freaking out over this???? it got linked in their cursed forum and they SO BADLY wanted u 2 hate women now. like you can regress from being a feminist once you’ve woken up. they’re giving u shit bc you called out the racist terrorists who were active in their community lmao. i can post screenshots if u want. But bruv it’s like they haven’t read anything you’ve written before lol

mozARTsexandviolins: I get when you say that ingenuity spawns ideals for the greater good, but don’t you think tradition has its place? How do we know if the new can spawn the greater good? How do we judge ourselves? Who watches the watchers?

simpleplan2eatthedirt: cool cool nice nice.  protesting is awesome, but be sure to get out there to fucking VOTE, people!!! Here’s a link to register to vote.

EaterJohn: Hello. It is nice to hear from you again, Epiales. Always a treat. Very insightful commentary on modern and past protests. I didn’t know about all of the revolutions in Europe 1848. I’ve send this to my co, and it’s already sparked a good conversation about who we are as a protesting people as we stand in history. Again, sorry to bother you, but I was wondering when the next article in your “Aeneid Autopsies: Current Crimes Reflected in Ancient Times” series was going to be released? It’s my…Read More

horneyvulcanbasterd: @mozARTsexandviolins Is that a Star Trek reference? Bc if so the answer’s Starfleet Command lol

MrsKatsukiBakagou: epiales. you have watered my crops and harvested my fields. thank you for the food.

mightiestavengereatmyass: eat shit and die, commie scum. your just a hired propagandaist for the fucking alt-left, aren’t you? You have no right to be running your collum in a real newspaper or on this fucking website. sending u anthrax in the mail would be too cool a death for you. I hope your so-called terrorist groupsfind out where you live and fucking murder you in the middle of the night. fukcs like you are the reason the country is going to shit the police have a total constitutional right int aht jurisdiction to enter. They had a no knock…Read More

fuckyouit’sjanuary: @readyplayer69 [image attached] [image description: blonde woman with caption reading, “I can tolerate racism, but I draw the line at looting the local target]

saltnpepa!!diner707: Hi. I’m trying to cite this piece in an essay, but your publisher isn’t listed on your website. Would you suggest using the NYT as the source in my bib? If it helps, this is due new week; idk if this will run in the NYT by then. Thanks

“I’m sending someone on a grocery run this morning,” said Tom, thumbs tapping away on his phone, “Do you need anything? Want anything?”

You glanced up from your laptop, closing it as much as you could without the light dimming. “I think I’m good, unless you used the last of the shredded cheese at some point.”

“Shredded…cheese,” he said under his breath, typing, “You mentioned capri-suns the other day.”

“Yeah, but I can tolerate the nasty, new flavour. No rush. Here’s a wild idea,” you said, and you waited until he looked up from his phone, a couple of ungelled curls falling over his forehead. “What if—now, don’t dismiss me as crazy; hear me out—what if we went to the store ourselves?”

“Again, no.” Tom grasping his coffee by the round of the mug, despite there being a perfectly functional handle. “Stop pressing me for it.”

“I’m not asking to go to a damn Broadway play. I’m asking to go to the closest 7-11,” you said, jiggling your leg and then making a conscious decision to stop fidgeting, instead scooting your chair closer under the table so that the arms slid underneath.

Tom hummed, his eyes not leaving his phone screen, but when you didn’t continue, he raised an eyebrow as he scowled at you. “Broadway is shut down because of the bomb threat.”

“Fuck off; you know what I meant.”

“Viper,” said Tom, and he locked his phone to set it on his napkin. “Do you want to get assassinated?”

“The term assassination implies I’m getting murdered for political reasons instead of the copious other crimes you’ve had me commit. So, I invite it.” Put your hands on the table where he can see them; it makes you seem more trustworthy. “Does 7-11 have an open carry policy?”

“If it’s any consolation, the renovated office should be waiting for you when you return.”

“It’s not.” You lifted your mug to your lips. “Working from here only makes me feel like a damn bureaucrat. Like I have no stake in the matter. I don’t want to become detached from everything; I might make a callous decision and send people where they can’t come back.”

“Keep watching yourself. If you stay on guard,” said Tom, running his middle finger around the rim of his mug, “then you won’t stray from me.”

“I’m useless here.”

“Then maybe you should become accustomed to the idea of being useless.”

Swallowing, you stared down into your tea. “There’s only so much I can get done through answering emails. Not to mention I hate answering emails. That’s how you get more emails.”

“Harrison has been telling me that your schematics have been more thorough since you’ve been holed up in here.” Tom tipped his mug all the way back to get the last of his coffee. “You’re still being just as productive, if not more methodical.”

“Did you mean obsessive? I have—I’ve had too much time to think. I’d rather not be alone with my thoughts, if I can help it.”

***

You could only read so much before losing your mind. You could only deal with so many of the same exact problems over and over again for lower level soldiers. You could only chart so many stars. You could only read so much fanfiction (if your identity thief were tracking your phone, he’d probably be baffled as to why you kept reading fic for fandoms you weren’t even a part of due to the desire for new ideas).

You could only give Glory Pham so many excuses as to why you’re not with her in person at the Museum of Natural History.

Sucking in through your teeth, you hovered your fingers above the keyboard.

Dear Ms. Pham,

Glad to hear John Mulaney’s signed on. Next step would be to ensure de Blasio doesn’t directly interact with him, given their history. Perhaps I should proof his set beforehand?

Unfortunately, I regret to inform you that I cannot attend the briefing in person yet again. I am currently indisposed, seeing as I am currently in hiding at my hot boss’s house, due to how dead I might be should I leave it (thus the basis of its appeal). Not to mention that if you criticise my blazer choices again, I shall peel the skin off your perfectly made-up face. Get fucked; getting your eyeliner tattooed on was a hell of a decision.

You shook your head, backspaced the last few lines, and stretched towards the wicker end table to grab your glass of pink lemonade, and you stole a glance at Tom’s work as you did so. A couple of files spread across his white wicker lounger (two blue files [socials of the family], two green [recent bids], a yellow [Manhattan locations], and a brown [requests from politicians, upper East side]). The pink sticky-notes had your and his written exchanges and edits on certain papers, and his laptop was open, the screen dimmed, while he copied something into a notebook with his cell phone held between his shoulder and his ear, just listening to the computerised voice.

He had joined you on the back porch to work remotely, claiming he couldn’t go into the city today due to the absence of news on Zendaya—if any information arose, he’d said he wanted your diagnosis immediately.

You wiped your forehead with your sleeve as a sweat drop slinked behind Tom’s ear. Even Tessa wouldn’t run in the heat; she’d curled up by the porch railing, her tail slapping against her water bowl. In an experiment to see if she wanted to spend some time outside, you’d slid the glass door open for Trout, to which she turned around to retreat to the bedroom.

Not all of the clothes you’d ordered had arrived yet, so you were stuck wearing autumnal clothes with long sleeves. To exacerbate matters, you were constantly moving—jiggling your leg, tapping your fingers—you couldn’t sit still for very long anymore; you had taken to pacing the porch when you couldn’t concentrate on the stars.

(Once, Tom had come out at night to check on you, wiping the sleep out of his eyes and sitting in silence with you. He’d made you go to bed after a while, claiming you’d run yourself into the ground if you kept this restlessness up.)

When your phone beeped, the both of you jolted at the sound. Tom hung up on the robotic voice as you scrambled to your phone, and he bent your way. “Is it Zendaya?”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you shook your head. “No. Looks like it’s a jailbreak.”

Tom sighed, his shoulders heaving as he eased back in his seat. “Where from?”

“I don’t even care,” you said, letting your phone fall to your lap. You slumped back in your chair, shielding your eyes from the sun with your arm. But you straightened yourself again and checked. “From Central. They don’t even know who’s all escaped yet.”

“It’d be too much of a gift if New York City would fucking relax for five minutes.”

“It seems like it’s in more uproar than usual lately,” you said, sipping through the reusable straw of your pink lemonade. “Do you suppose it’s our fault?”

Tom took a moment to pluck his damp t-shirt away from his chest. “I don’t think we’re instigating. If anything, we’re simply reacting to chaos.” He stood up and stretched, raising his arms above his head—his biceps strained at the sleeves, and the hem rose above his v-lines. “Unless you’re doing something I don’t know about.”

Ah, casual suspicion. “You’ve caught me,” you said as he approached Tessa and crouched next to her, “I’ve been running a koi smuggling gig on the side.”

“Why koi?” He held out his hand for Tessa to sniff, and she readily accepted his hand for pats. “Are they hard to get?”

“I don’t know,” you said, shrugging, “but I’ve been wondering if they’d be able to survive in your grist mill pond. You look through that water straight to the bottom, nothing living in your way. Just rocks and old equipment.”

Tom sat against the porch railing with a jittery Tessa partially in his lap. “Should we get some?”

“Oh, fuck off, Tom,” you said, grinning, a sweat drop falling onto your mousepad as you shook your head, “You can’t entertain every little pipedream I have.”

“Watch me. What do you want for Christmas?”

You ducked your head, biting your lip. “Promise me something.”

“Provided it’s not my head on a stake, I will,” he said, scratching Tessa behind her ears and cringing a bit when she stretched to lick his face.

“Then we’re going in person to the pre-opening fundraising gala for the Gawain Diamond.”

Tom narrowed his eyes. “Viper.”

“Bitch, I got John Mulaney to sign on to do the opening monologue, and he’s probably gonna roast de Blasio again. I’m not missing that.”

Your phone blared an alert again, and both of you held your breath as you unlocked it.

“Got a list of prisoners who escaped. Small group. Delores, Larson, Duncan, Mays, Selvin,” you said, “There’s more, but I don’t know them. Tell us something important, by God. Anyway, we’re going. I didn’t say I was going alone, did I? You’ll be there. I’ll be safe, and you’ll be safe.”

His jaw shifting to the side, Tom stilled his hand on Tessa’s back, and then he lifted it to flick sweat off his neck. “How many of us maximum can you get in?”

“It’s a fundraiser for idiotic rich people; if there are too many people without a name, they’ll be noticed.”

“It can’t be just us.”

“Why? Afraid you can’t protect me on your own?”

“Now, don’t start that.” Tom herded Tessa off his lap and onto her outside bed. “I’m not falling for it.”

“Yes, yes, I’m fully aware you’re capable of ripping me in half,” you said, draining your pink lemonade, the airy suction coming through your straw (almost loud enough that you couldn’t hear Tom’s sputtering over it—almost—and his phone beeping). “Want me to get that?”

“Bring it here,” he said, and you snatched it while he sat on the railing, dangling his legs off the side.

“It’s,” you said, eyebrows shooting to your hairline as you read the little notification, “It’s a tweet from Zendaya.” You tossed it to him to unlock and leant on the railing next to him, arm grazing his thigh with a heightened awareness of how close you were to his sweaty, sweaty abdomen. No! No time to thirst. Friend time.

Tom unlocked his phone and held it at your eye level, turning it horizontally as he pulled up the tweet.

ZENDAYA (@ZendayaMedias): Felt cute. Might delete later.

[video]

Tom pulled up the clip, waiting for it to load. “Why didn’t she post it to instagram, then?”

“The finer details of social media are an enigma. Do I look like I know,” you said, and his thumb hovered over the play button.

He cranked the volume up before pressing play, having to try twice due to how slippery his fingers were. “I wonder if Haz has seen this yet.”

A vertical shot of a murky, grey sky from the bow of a boat and dark ocean as far as the camera can see. It pans across the starboard side, and this boat is the only one in sight.

Only the sound of waves striking the boat.

The camera tilts down. Zendaya��s writhing on the deck, furiously straining against rope bonds that line up the entirety of her arms and up her calves; she’s yelling furiously at the person behind the camera through duct tape.

Scuffed, black boots roll Z to the starboard gunwale. She’s still fighting, still shouting.

The camera trucks to the right; before, the pair of cinderblocks attached to her feet were concealed. It returns to her face. A glove grabs part of her hair to show the weights tied into it. She bucks up to headbutt the camera; he avoids it.

Tom clenched his free hand on his thigh. “We’re running another scan for that black-stubble bell jackass from her instagram; did we have any fucking leads at all? What’s his fucking motivation? So he slept with her, allegedly; did she say no to a second time? Doesn’t fucking merit—”

The boot kicks the cinderblocks off the boat, and the camera tilts down to follow the trail of bubbles.

It’s quiet.

But then the camera pans to portside, where the guy in the picture with Zendaya is similarly tied up, but he’s openly weeping and shaking his head. He’s got something drawn on his forehead in black marker. The cameraman steps closer to focus on it: it’s a circle with an upward curve resting on top of it.

He’s still wearing the bell necklace.

Then the cameraman backs away and raises a gloved hand, in which a gun is aimed at the other’s forehead.

The bullet goes through the circle, and the bell rattles as he’s kicked off. Fewer bubbles.

Then the camera tilts up to show off the boat’s surroundings: a black and barren ocean, as far as the eye can see.

When the video started to loop, Tom switched his screen off, his phone hanging loosely in his grip. You released of his thigh once you noticed you’d grabbed onto him, and the evidence of your touch faded as the fabric relaxed.

His eyes glossed over at the blank screen, and his mouth opened before closing again, running his tongue over his lower lip. Tom brought a fist to his mouth and furrowed his brow, his hand hardly concealing the growing tremble of his jaw.

You took a step away from him, rubbing your arms as you ducked your head. “I’m going back inside,” you said, hoping Trout felt like being clutched to your chest, “I’m cold.”

***

The next morning, your mouth felt heavy and dry. You sneaked out as the sun was rising to go hide in the woods surrounding Tom’s house, but you talked yourself out of it. He would make too much of a fuss if he couldn’t find you—but you could delay the inevitable conversation even further. Both of you had separated and kept to yourselves the rest of the evening. Kept quiet.

So you rounded the outside of the house. You’re not camping out in a fucking copse. When you reached the pond, you scanned it for a dry place to hide, but nothing really held any appeal, save for the rounded platform where the mill wheel used to spin, its spoke notches overflowing with moss. You managed to get to it after scrambling alongside the stones for a few minutes, and though it didn’t look like you could get down the same way, you settled against the wall, scraping some moss out of the notches so that your feet could rest more comfortably in them.

(Dr. Prine called ten minutes after you sent her the email. “Did you send me the correct article?”

“Yeah,” you said, rubbing your face wash onto your cheeks, “Considering it’s the only one I have ready, and I can’t bring myself to write anything. I tried. I just fucking can’t.”

“I don’t think you want this published at this point in your life.”

“I don’t fucking care. Whoever’s using my pen name probably knows who the fuck I am in general. Just publish it.”

“Honey,” said Dr. Prine, her voice softening (and fumbling, like she was holding the phone to her ear with her shoulder), “You should probably rethink this. It’s going to connect Epiales you back to Viper you. Get some sleep; eat breakfast. Call me back then.”

“It’s an appropriate article for the political climate.”

“Not for your personal life.”

“I don’t fucking care,” you said between splashing water on your face, “I don’t. It’s a good fucking article, and hopefully, it can affect people for the upcoming election. Fuck self-preservation. Send it to the Times already.”

“Did I dial the wrong number?”

“Hilarious, Dr. Prine. I know it’s not the smartest thing for me to do, but I can’t—absolutely can’t—write anything. I don’t know for how long, but for now, at least.” You blotted your face dry. “I’ve got to meet standard deadlines if I’m keeping my column. It’s really only dangerous if Tom reads it and makes the connection, and his brain is offline right now.”

And so Aeneid Autopsies: Current Crimes Reflected in Ancient Times, chapter twelve, “The Political Tradition as Mob Rule,” would be published on Saturday. It’s a little too in the know about the mafia, but hey, you had written it on a whim a month ago, and you were known for your extensive research, anyway. It most likely shouldn’t be too different from your other exposés, though they weren’t on topics that were deliberately misleading the public by what information was out there.

The more you thought about it, it was almost like you wanted to reveal yourself, wanted to get stabbed while you were sleeping, because there’s an overwhelming question rolling around in your brain like a mis-weighted shooter marble: is this—)

“It’s not your fault.”

With crossed arms, Tom leant against the stone wall, his leg bent back for his bare foot to rest flat against it. He glanced sideways at you, sitting on your mill wheel perch almost halfway across the pond, but closer to the far side than to him.

He’s got major bedhead, his curls just fucking flopping about out of his part, and even from where you are, his face burned red amidst wet tracks trailing down it. Still, thank God for little mercies—his biceps were fucking straining the sleeves of his white t-shirt, and those idiotic, blessed grey sweatpants were low on his hips.

You lifted your head from your knees but still clutched them to your chest. “You’re not going out, then?”

“Of course not,” Tom said, and he wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “Can’t be crying during a meeting, yeah?”

“Been boxing?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you get any sleep last night?”

“Not really.”

He ran his tongue over his lower lip and sighed, and then he slid his hands into his pockets, his eyes glossing over while he watched the moss you’d picked off float in the pond.

You’re not going to fucking cry. Tom came out here for a reason. He has a purpose. All you have to do is wait.

Eventually, he said, “You’re avoiding what I said.”

You tilted your head.

“Listen, I know you’re beating yourself up about it. It’s not your fault this happened. None of this is your fault. Hey.” Tom tapped the wall, the travelling reverberations making you look up at him. “Whoever’s doing this is doing it of their own volition and not because of you. You hold no culpability for this.”

“Bruh,” you said, “One of your best friends is dead, and you’re comforting me? I thought I was the masochist.”

Tom scowled, his brow furrowing. “Viper—”

“I can’t interact with someone without putting them in danger, at a disturbingly high rate. You want me to enumerate where I’ve stuck my nose in not my business and people have gotten killed? Senator Hernandez, Isadora,” you began, holding up two fingers, “The nine men guarding Isadora, Maccabruno, Polson—”

“Don’t you dare do that to yourself.” Tom took a step forward, his foot almost curving into the pond. “You didn’t use the knife. You didn’t pull any triggers.”

“Yeah, but I sent them there. And a good many of them went because it was their job.” You sneered and propped your chin on your knees again.

“And it’s part of your job—”

“Yeah, whatever. Your friend is dead, and I have no home. I’ve stopped contacting the few people in my circle on the chance that they get dragged into this—Grace, Adrien—he’s the lights specialist guy, in case you don’t remember—I’ve got to email Glory, but that can’t be helped. And Dr. Prine only—fuck,” you said, dragging your hands down your face. “I don’t want anything to fucking happen to Dr. Prine. Or your family, for that matter.”

“Everyone not involved in the business is currently in hiding upstate,” said Tom, eyes narrowed as he glared at you. “If you like, I can ensure the same—”

“Stop acting so damn calm, Tom.” You let your legs dangle off the platform, hands clenching the edges. “I don’t have any strings left to pull. And fucking hell, I know that it would be extremely and absurdly conceited of me to believe that this series of crimes is aimed specifically at me, because how deluded, how arrogant could I get—but goddammit, this stuff feels a little too personalised. It feels like this person knows me.”

Tom clicked his tongue. “Don’t you think it’s worth something that Glory Pham has been left alone? He knows how to get into Crosscreek, yet Glory hasn’t been touched. Is that not worthwhile?”

Your eyes watered, but you ducked your head so that he couldn’t see—but you released a dry sob (Fuck! Now is not the time for crying! Now is the time for being badass! Frown, or something!).

Tom spoke so quietly you almost didn’t catch it. “Do you want to leave?”

God, no. But it would make you feel like less of a burden. “Let me find an apartment first.”

“No, not like that. Hey, V. Look at me,” he said, and he tapped on the wall again.

You wouldn’t. Not like this. Not when your nose was running and when you didn’t have a plan.

“Please look at me, Viper.”

Glowering, you raised your head, lifting your chin higher than normal to seem confident, and oh, God—his eyes were wide and gentle; he’s leaning as far as he can over the pond, still unable to reach you.

“What I meant was if you wanted to leave the mob.”

It rang through your head like a distant cathedral bell, chiming through a deserted town—but then you were farther, out on the mountains, still listening to faint clanging.

“You’d have to kill me,” you said, shaking your head, “Don’t you remember?”

“Fuck,” Tom was saying, sucking in through his teeth, and after glancing at the water, he started jogging around the pond.

“I swore. I bled. And then even after that—then you knighted me.” You inhaled sharply when he reached the stones you’d climbed. “I’ve let you down.”

“Viper, get the fuck down from there and come here,” he said, and he withdrew, winching, when he stepped on a sharp edge.

“We shouldn’t have met,” you said, looking over your shoulder at him, and Tom froze, his hand partially gripping a hole in the stone wall. “I shouldn’t have taken the job. I should have gone to a different city. I should have—”

“Wasted your life away in the shadows? Just shut up and get down here.”

“Ah! The fuck?” You swatted his hand away when it grazed the platform, and when he climbed up another step, you pushed yourself off the platform and into the pond.

The first thing that struck you was how quiet everything was once the bubbles dissipated, and then you noticed how clear the water was, even from within it—glancing down, you could easily see your feet treading water above the broken grist mill wheels that had sunken to the bottom.

Before you could take it in to feel the emptiness in your chest, bubbles filled your vision again—and then his hands were grappling for you, grasping at your clothes, and pulling you towards the surface.

“I wasn’t fucking drowning,” you said, sliding a hand back through your hair, while Tom shook his head to flick off excess water. “I was fine without—”

“I know you weren’t.” Tom gripped your waist tightly enough to be painful, and he slid his other hand up between your shoulder blades. “I know. You wouldn’t die on me, and I’m not letting anyone else lay their hands on you. C’mon, arms around.”

He guided your arms around his waist, and once you had a good grip (hands sliding up his back), he kicked off to swim to the stone wall, backing you into it. Your toes skimmed the bottom of the pond, but Tom kept your head above the water, his thumbs circling your hipbones through your wet clothes.

Tom closed his eyes, his eyelashes heavy with water droplets. “There’s no solution to this where you die, got it?”

“Shucks.”

“I mean it. Talk to me. Tell me what you can.” Tom let out a breath slowly, and he bent to rest his forehead on your shoulder. “Please,” he said once you tensed up, his breath hot through your wet shirt, “Won’t you let me in?”

(Fuck fuck fuck fuck his chest is flush against yours; he’s so warm, so damn warm all over, and the water’s chill only makes you want to cling to him more, fuck.)

“You won’t like me,” you said, tentatively lifting a hand to curl your fingers into his hair, pulling slightly, “I’m not whom I’ve presented to you. I don’t have it under control.”

“I don’t expect you to.” Tom turned his head towards you; his lips almost grazed your neck (you relish their warmth anyway). “You wouldn’t be human, otherwise.”

“I don’t know an awful lot. Some days it seems like all I do is guesswork.” You grimaced but kept the slim distance from Tom’s mouth. If he wanted to, he would. “I’m lost completely on whoever the fake Epiales is. I keep looking for a pattern in everything, even—even so far back as to—”

You stuttered. Tom had pressed his lips to the base of your neck.

“There’s no consistency,” he said, nuzzling his nose against the spot where your neck met shoulder, “but there’s got to be a larger plan. I get it. The whole case is like a hydra, and we’re chopping blindly at the heads.”

(Oh, my God, he kissed you? He kiss the neck? He?)

“Oh! I forgot to tell you.” Tom pulled away to look you in the eye, and your mouth hung open of its own accord—come back! “I made myself watch the video again.” His jaw shifted. “To see if I missed anything, and I did. This time, I recognised the symbol on the guy’s forehead.” Tom lightly traced it onto your forehead with his middle finger. “It’s a zodiac symbol. It’s the one for Taurus.”

You nodded, still not really thinking at full capacity. “Great. Another piece of evidence that I won’t be able to make fucking sense of. Goddammit. I’m so useless. Goddammit,” you said, dropping your hand from his hair into the water with a splash. “Tom, I don’t talk to my mother much anymore. She doesn’t know where or who I am, and to be honest, I don’t know who I am, either. I don’t know where the truth is.”

You nearly slapped him when you cupped his cheek, like you were desperate, like you had to be touching him, skin on skin, that instant. It’d be nice if he would close his eyes and lean into your touch, maybe kiss your palm, but Tom simply stared at you in shock, eyes wide, brows raised, mouth pinched.

Don’t tell him, you whore. You built this fucking kingdom with its walls and bastions so that you would be safe when the outer defences crumbled. You’ve set aside parts of yourself into neat little boxes so that you can throw any of them away at any time and escaped unscathed. Don’t you fucking dare screw that up. Tom doesn’t know about Epiales so that you can expose and destroy him if you’re on his chopping block; it’s insurance for when everything falls.

Bitch, since when do you want to be honest and raw and vulnerable around anyone?

You can’t let him in.

“You’re still a woman of honour,” Tom said, and—oh, God, oh, fuck—he’s easing his hands down your body, his chest pressed against yours again, and he’s sliding them down your thighs to hook underneath your knees, and he’s hitched you up against the wall, the definition of his muscles real and palpable through the wet clothes, warm, warm, warm—

“I should apologise,” you said, turning your head to the side while he steered your legs around his waist, “I can’t imagine what you must be feeling right now.”

“You can’t?” Tom shifted you upwards, and that’s it; your heat is directly against him; you can feel every pull and tensing of his tendons, and if he keeps moving the way he is, then you’ll—

“I’m so sorry for making this about me when Z was closer to you. We shouldn’t waste time on me; we need to be searching, arranging a funeral if we can’t find anything.” You scrunched your eyes shut.

“You’re deflecting.” Tom let out a shuddery sigh. “I’ve lost too many people. Don’t make me lose you when you’re right in front of me,” he said, and he pressed his lips right below your ear.

You flinched away on impulse but tried to relax into him, blinking profusely.

Tom pushed against you (not localised enough to qualify as a thrust), and he cleared his throat before pulling away from your neck. “Listen, please. Please.” He shifted your weight to one hand and gripped your chin with his freed one. His eyes flickered to your mouth before he moved to rest his hand on your cheek. “You’re invaluable. Irreplaceable. You are no burden and are not at fault.” He clenched his jaw. “But I know you’re keeping something from me, and I will make the answer fall from your lips soon.”

Your own chin was shaking, and he was too close. If you put aside separate-self-as-insurance for a moment, let’s consider Tom did find out about Epiales. Would he control you through it? Would he use you to influence those he couldn’t reach? Would he grab hold of Dr. Prine? He might squeeze your life and time through his fist, and your freedom would be gone. Epiales was your freedom, your space to create and connect.

He was too close.

“You’ve got to promise not to hate me,” you said, and when he raised an eyebrow, you made your decision to lean in.

“No,” he said, and—and your lips met his cheek.

He’d turned his head.

After all that, he’s going to turn his head?

“No,” he said again, taking your chin again and leading you away, back to leaning against the stone wall, “I don’t want our first kiss connected to the memory of mourning. I can wait a bit longer.”

Tom released your legs, letting them sink. “You once told me that if you let yourself be vulnerable, you didn’t want an audience. I think,” he said, frowning, “I think you still see me as an outsider. As a member of that audience. And again, you said that you didn’t want it if it weren’t real.” He stepped away from you entirely, and he started wading towards the edge of the pond. “I’m going to hold you to the same standard. I’ll wait until you’re ready to be real with me.”

Tom slinked out of the pond, flicking away what excess water he could, and he squinted into the sun on the horizon. He shook his head, water flying, and he glanced back at you and scoffed. “Easy, sweetheart. No need to wear your heart on your sleeve now.”

His voice trailed off as he rounded the corner towards the door.

The sun is rising, and you feel rather cold.

***

inter vivos: between the living

***

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[littlemissshortstuff]

As a potential future housewife, I’m taking this time to hone my skills in cleaning, organizing, and decorating. I hope this can be a series where I show off and develop those skills while giving you a little sneak peek into my life.

During the Thanksgiving break, my roommates went to visit friends and family, and I took that time to deep clean the kitchen to the best of my ability at the time. Part of me loves a deep clean, but I hate getting dirty. It’s an odd mix.

I’m going to show you some before and after photos and video, and give you a list of everything I used to clean up!

If you like this post or know someone who might like this post, please give it a share! Shares, comments, and likes are what keep this blog running! Thank you! ❤

  The Single Housewife: Cleaning My Kitchen – Before

  My kitchen may not seem so bad in these photos, but my roommates don’t have the same standards as me, and that’s okay! I’m learning to live with them and they’re learning to live with me. I like things cleaned and put away as soon as you can, especially now that there is a dishwasher involved.

But they cook things daily, where I tend to do batch cooking in my slow cooker on the weekends.

  They leave appliances out that don’t get used all the time, where as I would try to put them in a cabinet until needed. They also keep out spices they use on a daily basis, where I would rather things look clean and tidy and put away.

  Cleaning products

Mrs. Meyer’s Lemon Verbena Multi-Surface Cleaner

Clorox Gel Bleach

Clorox Wet Wipes

Vacuum

Swiffer Mop

Swiffer Wet Heavy Duty Wet Pads (Target Brand)

Mrs. Meyer’s Room Spray (Lemon Verbena)

  Related: My First Thoughts on Grove Collaborative

I first cleaned everything with the Mrs. Meyer’s to get the initial grime and crumbs off the counters. Thankfully, I asked my roommates to put away any appliances they weren’t using which they graciously agreed to. 

I then went over everything with the bleach for a good disinfecting. I clean up after myself, but I’m wary of any potential germs getting on food, so I rather be safe than sorry. We don’t have any pets or small children, so it seemed like a good choice.

I vacuumed the kitchen floor, because there were so many crumbs all over the place! Things like to hide under cabinets and in crevices and considering we had a few bug sightings, I want to prevent them from showing up by making sure everything is cleaned up.

After the vacuum, I went over the floor with the heavy duty swiffer mop pads. I actually had to go through multiple pads for just the floor because of how dirty it is! I do need to get me a regular mop and give it a good scrub at some point, but I’m only a renter and feel I’m putting in so much effort for it to just get trashed again when I leave.

I was able to put the dish drainer in the dishwasher to give that a clean, because if you keep leaving wet dishes in there, especially if they aren’t organized, it will start to get dirty and gross itself.

Related: 5 Things to Do to Keep on Top of Your Cleaning

  The Single Housewife: Cleaning My Kitchen – After

    One of my roommates said he was shocked at how clean the kitchen was. This is what I would love for it to look like all the time, but I know that a kitchen being used isn’t going to be able to stay this spotless all the time. 

I felt incredibly satisfied and that it was a productive day after all this. I look back at this video and it’s kind of calming in a way. 

Related: Spring Cleaning Areas You Might Not Think About Tidying Up

    What do you think of my cleaning? Do you want to see more of these posts? Let me know in the comments!

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Want to help support the blog? Consider donating to my Ko-Fi page or support me by buying me something on my Amazon Wish List.

    The Single Housewife: Cleaning My Kitchen - Before and After // Clean with my as I show you the before and after of cleaning my kitchen! #beforeafter #Cleanwithme #Cleaning #organization #housewife #singlehousewife As a potential future housewife, I'm taking this time to hone my skills in cleaning, organizing, and decorating.

[rinniboo]

I decided to embark on a solo trip to Bali after seeing travel brochures for a paradise looking like island and I was sold! I also found it’s a pretty safe place to travel alone and the locals are very friendly. So here’s my fantastical blog on what I did there for a week with all of my golden tricks and tips!

Ladies travelling back from prayer

What originally started as a month long trip around Asia had to unfortunately get cut down to two weeks max as I picked up a new job contract. So I had already planned to fly to Singapore and use it as my base, which is very common when travelling around Asia! Singapore airport is not only the most popular place for connecting flights but long running top rated! Check out my Singapore in a weekend blog post here. I booked a return flight to Bali with Scoot and I read reviews that it was a great budget airline to use.

You can hire a horse to ride along the beach at Gili T

Unfortunately, I had quite a terrible experience with my flights out to Bali from Singapore as the pilot announced an hour into the flight that we were delayed for half an hour because they originally couldn’t turn the engine on! That was resolved after they restarted it but now we had to turn around and land back into Singapore because a new fault has cropped up! This meant we had to fly around for three hours to burn enough fuel to land and then we didn’t get onto a replacement flight and actually into Bali until 6 hours later! By this time all my plans to check out the local neighbourhood, sample the local cuisine and sit down to plan my trip there with everything unpacked had gone out the window! I also got charged a fee for an after hours pick up from the hotel, which I was not aware of and I had already given the taxi driver a big tip anyway! Thankfully my flights back all ran quite smoothly and I left plenty of time to catch my flight home to the UK straight from Singapore (lots of time to hit the duty free – hard!)

  The Moksha Ubud garden

The Moksha Ubud communal pool

Views from The Moksha Ubud

I had pre organised an AirBnB well in advanced at the Spa & villa Moksha Ubud. It’s a beautiful villa with a communal pool, garden and spa hut out back where you can pick and choose from a range of spa treatments and even book a week package where you can get a select few wonderful treatments each day! The place is run by the friendly duo Mega and Ali with dedicated security at night and a great team that made me feel safe and right at home. They do not rent out scooters but you’re only less than a 5 min walk from the main road where there’s a plethora of travel shops and stalls where you can hire scooters, book transport and a variety of trips.

  The Fire dance and performance was a spectacular to watch!

Temples! Temples everywhere!

You can’t go to the yoga mecca without going to at least one yoga class! Try Radiantly Alive Yoga or the famous Yoga Barn!

For the first day I farmiliarised myself with my local surroundings so I took a walk along the whole length of the main road and scouted out where the most popular places were to eat by the locals. I then ventured to the monkey forest where they had an event on and all of the women were there dressed in their traditional prayer garments and listening to the show and testimonials. Having visited a monkey forest in Manchester before, the proximity to the cheeky furry creatures was not new. However, their fearlessness of teasing visitors and nicking personal belongings astounded me! I made sure all of my things were tightly packed away in my drawstring bag, but even an unfortunate shop keeper from the string of stalls in there had their stationary stolen by a cheeky monkey!

  All of the architecture just took my breath away, the temple arches were decadently adorned and everywhere exudes history with the mossy weathered cobbles and bricks. I really disliked how touristy Ubud was as the streets were heaving with visitors and this attracted a lot of hawkers, which unfortunately made every step along the road a constant battle to reject taxi rides! A great way I met new people, locals and other solo female travelers (which there were a lot of in Ubud!) was by using the Couchsurfing app. Speaking the local Maly language encourages shopkeepers at the local markets to haggle in your favor and is a great shopping experience!

  Other great apps and links:

Flytographer.com – capture all those memories by hiring a photographer

Booking.com – book from over 400,000 home-stays and hotels around you like any other a hotel

AirBnB – Search some great hidden gems to stay in

Through making friends with other fellow female travelers using networking apps, and just going out for a meal at busy restaurants to get chatting with others around me I managed to arrange a day trip and share a taxi with mutual new friends and visited; The Monkey Temple – they have occasional parties here after hours, so get the invite through word of mouth from the locals for a fantastic night there when the sun sets!

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A variety of temples including the beautiful Water Temple, a coffee plantation – get a tour guide to take some candid photos and taste test all the coffee they make on the plant for FREE! The additional famous ‘poo coffee’ is at an additional cost but it makes for a great story! Rice fields – unfortunately, if you thought Ubud was too touristy, the popular rice fields are a lot worse! The locals have barricaded any tourist photo opportunity spots and have even set up a toll to progress any further up the paddies! It did dampen my experience, but luckily it wasn’t top of my bucket list.

  Bali has a plethora of temples to explore from their religious roots that has been at the heart of every Balinese for centuries. Each place has their own rules to be respected but you can really get up close and personal with the ancient rooms and artifacts.

  You can hire a horse to ride along the beach at Gili T

Whilst I was there I really had to visit the insta-famous Gili Islands. My heart sank when I almost couldn’t squeeze it into my itinerary, but I organised a 1 night stay at Gili Twargran at a wonderful villa, Ko-ko-mo. Known for its bustling parties at night, it was a great choice out of the 3 islands. Gili T is best for the younger audience that likes a party, Gili Meno is full on honeymooners and Gili Air is the best for a relaxed island break.

  You can hire a bike for the day and it takes around an hour to cycle around the whole island. I picked the best time in the afternoon to set off and the sun just started to set as I was getting closer to the famous Hotel Ombak swing sunset Insta-photo opp location. Luckily I found a great spot just before the hotel that was a lot quieter and quaint to take a swing photo! The hawking of sales was a lot less and more manageable being on a small island but that means the prices are a bit higher and there’s less of chance of a successful haggle. After watching one of the most beautiful sunsets on earth the night life really kicks into action! There are a few locations for outdoor movies and dining options to chill out with, but just shy of a few minutes away near the night markets where you can get fresh food cooked right under your nose is the booming clubs where you can party the night away!

  The fast boat back to Bali was the worst experience I had in the whole holiday. It took a while longer to get back than the journey out to the island because it had a lot of stops to take along the way, and it needed an inspection halfway to ensure it was not overcrowded- which is common and very dangerous. It was great having the wind in my hair on the upper deck until the tide changed and we were all getting soaked! So we had to retreat back inside where it was hot and stuffy which was ripe conditions for sea sickness. I really had to get into my zen mode to stop throwing up! When we finally reached the dock at Bali I was cold, exhausted and just wanted to quickly get back to Ubud and crash in my bed. Horribly there was a bombardment of taxi services which even made it difficult to get off the boat! I think I know what it’s like to be harassed by paparazzi! I had to be pulled onto land! Thankfully, I had a very informative taxi representative that recommended a driver to me, obviously it was at tourist prices. I thought I had booked a ride back but unfortunately this is quite common. You can take a private taxi back to Ubud for 350k-500k IDR or take a shuttle bus for around 120k IDR that takes longer and drops off everyone along the way. It was my own space and aircon back for me!

Recommended places to stay in Gili T:

Ko-ko-mo resort Gili Trawangan

Hotel Ombak Sunset

Pearl of Trawangan

Santorini Beach Resort

How did I end my amazing solo trip?? With dinner at the local of course; Mee goreng and a Bintang – A Bali home brew!

I had an amazing experience of the best and the worst of solo travelling. It was a great way to learn more about myself, overcome my personal fears of social anxieties, learning to swim and make great new friends for life! I really felt it was one of the most enriching things that I’ve done in my life, and learning a skill to not only overcome a fear but to fulfil my dream of swimming with turtles was an empowering point in my life. I felt like I could do anything! So I passionately encourage everyone that’s thinking of travelling on their own to 100% do it! Do your research thoroughly, and prepare yourself for a trip of a life time. Take that leap of faith, because a wise man once said ‘if you think you can, you will!’.

  Check out my last travel blog on First cruise with P&O review or check out my last tech blog A woman’s review of the FitBit Alta HR

Let me know in the comments if you have been to Bali or any of the Gili islands before and if you have any great tips for solo travelling.

Female Solo #Travelling - Indonesia. #Bali #GiliTrawangan #femalesolotravel #solotravel #travel #travelblog I decided to embark on a solo trip to Bali after seeing travel brochures for a paradise looking like island and I was sold!

[butterfly-child99]

You maybe wondering why I didn’t end my Italian travelling blog series with “Our own little Roman Holiday – part five”, well the end of our holiday was a nightmare, and when I look back at our holiday I really, really want to remember all the amazing, good bits with excitement and glee. And our last day in Rome, the getting home part was utter chaos and leaves an awful taste in my mouth, so I don’t really want it linking to my beautiful holiday memories. But I also didn’t want to not include it, as its important to finish our story, even the bad parts. I apologise for the lack of photos – we didn’t take more joy from hanging around an airport. To break up my story of woe, please find some random photos of my beautiful family. 😀

We got all our bags packed the night before, and so all we had to do was say good bye to our apartment, the restaurant and the colosseum as we walked to the metro to return the train station. Where we would get on our transfer to the airport. All of this went smoothly, it was once we arrived at the airport it all started to go terribly wrong.

On all our documentation it advised to arrive 3 hours early, so we arrived slightly before this as we wanted to make sure we got here on time, and I wasn’t sure about the bus transfer or journey time. We couldn’t check our luggage until it was three hours before flight check in, so we waited.

monkey monkeying around at the local country park

As we waited for this time, a sudden notice in Italian flashed on a nearby screen, and then a time appeared next to our flight. Our flight should have been at 2pm so we should have been able to check our bags at 11:30am. The sign appeared was ritardato 20:30ore, I thought that surely can’t mean that, and sent Mr BC to check it out.

Apparently it was true, we had been at the airport since 10:30 and we were now being told that the flight was delayed for 6 hours from our original take off, and 9 hours from now. What were we supposed to do with two young children in an airport for 9 hours, not the least with a very scared adult who was awfully frightened of flying. I didn’t think I could hang around an airport for that long, there was a chance, I wouldn’t ever get on the plane.

I decided we were driving across country to get home instead, and know this seems extreme and I know in my head it was ridiculous, but a fear is irrational, no one can control it or often explain it, and I definitely have a fear of flying. Getting to Rome, I had a mild panic attack and cried the whole way there, so its really hard to hear when people say “oh, you’ll be fine”, or “you’re safer in a plane than car!”. I often want to say to these people, “oh well, there we go, now you’ve said that, I’m over it! If only I knew it was that easy!” Yes, I know these facts, in fact I could probably give you more facts abut safe flying than anyone, I tell myself them all the time, but I cannot rationalise when I about to board a flight, or hang around an airport with my fear building all around. Which is why, it makes it even harder to hear it from my own husband, I know he was upset by the flight delay too, but as he is not scared of pretty much anything, he isn’t always the most empathic or compassionate of people and as it was a frantic and hectic time, I really needed reassurance and a little understanding. So there we were, delayed flight, arguing, upset, angry and tired. But we thought, as our flight should have been at 2pm, at least we can check in and go to the departure lounge and be a bit more comfy. You’d think so right? You would think the airline and airport would have thought the poor people who are going to have to hang around for at least 9 hours can come through to use the shops, restaurants and slightly more comfortable seating? You, like us, would of course be wrong. As they had officially told us the plane was not taking off until 20:30, we couldn’t check in until 4:30pm.

Poppet looking fab as always – what filter??!!

So we had to wait for 5 hours in the baggage check part of the smallest airport in Rome, it was uncomfortable, boring for the kids and I was still in agony. Also, we didn’t actually know any of this information, we got all this later. For now, all we had been told was we couldn’t check in, had no idea why the flight was delayed and we had no communication from anyone.

We decided to stay, although as I was still unhappy and scared, for a while we stayed in frosty silence. Mr BC is a great man and a wonderful husband though and apologised and all was well with the world, except we were still stuck in Rome Ciampino and our flight was still delayed, possibly cancelled for all we knew. The children were incredible though, I bought us a pack of cards and some colouring books. This entertained them for as long as it could. We had a tiny bit of ,well not excitement but something as we all had to move as some luggage had been left unattended, fortunately it was nothing and we resigned ourselves to the floor again.

Finally, after we had been at the airport for 5 and a half hours, we were allowed to check in, go through security and go to the departure lounge. We spent some money in duty free, we were given a free bottle of water and sandwich, which was the least they could give us at this point. And then we just had more waiting to do, the only difference was the floor we sat on. As it was so busy, with a few more flights delayed, there was no seating available, so we were still uncomfortable but we made the best of it and enjoyed some Italian sweets and biscuits.

Poppets Unicorn Marshmallow – just woke up from a snooze. The only photo from the airport.

Mamma BC seemed to attract the bugs in Italy and had been a bitten a few times, we had bought a insect bite one and cream but the spots were getting redder. I had to take her to airport first aid, and it turns out, some had gotten infected, but the paramedics and doctors were amazing and got her treated and on the way back to, well the floor we were still sitting on.

Finally after hours and hours of sitting on an airport floor, we made our way into the gate, where you guessed it, we had to wait some more. We still weren’t 100% sure the flight would even be taking off tonight, we had no idea why it was even delayed and there was rumours flying everywhere. Finally, we got news that our flight wherever it was, was not going to happen but they had found another plane from somewhere who would return us home this evening. We had to be bussed out to this plane, which the children loved. My fear was building but I had done some research before the holiday into relaxation techniques so I was willing to give that a go, if I could get on the plane.

Finally, we could see the plane, 12 hours and 10 minutes at the airport and we eventually took off. The flight itself was fine, nothing major happened, I even managed to keep my panic slightly at bay. I had my music on my headphones on full blast, I was writing my name, son and daughters name, music lyrics with my left hand the entire flight. I still didn’t relish when anyone moved or turbulence or the fact I was even on a plane but we made it home in once piece, and now we just had to find our luggage, get to our car, which had probably gone over into another day, which I would get charged for, and finally make the long drive home. I think this was the worst part of the day, our original flight should have gotten us to England at a reasonable time, so we could drive home. I could have a bath and go to bed ready for work the next day. The reality was we didn’t leave the airport until gone 1:30pm, so our 4 hour drive home took us to early hours of the morning, and even though I wasn’t driving, I couldn’t go to sleep as it wasn’t fair on MR BC, he was just as tired.

However, we finally made it home and fell into bed. Those first few days at home, I found it hard to remember the beauty of Italy and all our exciting adventures because all I thought about was our nightmare flight home,  but now thankfully, I am over the disastrous last day, I probably won’t eve fly again, but now all I try to remember is the fun, exciting and memorable moments we had.

As for our flight, if by any small (I mean minute, almost none existent) chance I ever fly again, it will not be with Ryanair. The flight out was awful but nothing compared to our flight back. The lack of communication, organisation, poor understanding of customers and just general awful customer service will ensure we will never fly with them again.

  We enjoyed our holiday so much, it spilled into our six week holiday activities. We made our own cacti terrariums with mini statues of the Leaning Tower of Pisa and St Peters Basilica. I also received my postcard I sent to myself from The Vatican! Ticked that off my list of things I want to do.

Anyway, I would hate to end our Italian adventure on a sore note, so instead I am going to share with you, one more final word on our first proper kaleidoscope adventure. If I could write a love letter to a country, I think Italy would be up there at the top. Everything from food to the art/architecture and the glorious landscapes, it is a truly beautiful country, and I cannot wait to return. Hopefully, on a tour of the wonderful country in our new camper van!!! Keep reading to find our more!

All adventures must come to an end... an awful, nightmare of an end at that! Check out my final piece on our Italian adventure. #RomanHoliday #Italy #Ryanairsucks You maybe wondering why I didn't end my Italian travelling blog series with "Our own little Roman Holiday - part five", well the end of our holiday was a nightmare, and when I look back at our holiday I really, really want to remember all the amazing, good bits with excitement and glee.

[maslife]

We were about 4 miles out from the finish line with about 45 minutes to spare in order for me to finish under 21 hours at the 2017 Javelina Jundred. I was in a dark place. John, my husband and pacer, was trying to pull me out of it.

“Dig deep, Maria,” he said. “Your well of reserves is bottomless. Keep pulling from it.”

Ms. Cranky-Pants wasn’t really feeling the guru session.

“I’m at mile 96 of a 100 mile race. I AM digging deep,” I pouted. I might as well have stomped my feet, but at that point, I was feeling too beat to take the extra effort, so I just kept shuffling instead.

It was not my finest moment.

But, wait, I’m getting waaaaayyyyyy too far ahead – I mean there’s 96 miles before this moment when I had a choice to make: go for it – or give in.

I know it’s been said elsewhere, but running 100 miles is very much like living a lifetime in one day. You can learn so much about life and who you are by running 100 miles.

The day before the race at packet pickup, from left to right: John, my husband, me, our friend Eric, who was also running the race.

The Sun Comes Up

Sunrise in the desert is a magical time. At first, the rays peak cautiously over the shadowy mountain tops, until the sun spills everywhere over the sandy bottom.

When I signed up for Javelina this year, I remembered the sunrise moment from the first time I did the race back in 2015. I was looking forward to this moment, to staying present, to looking around at the unique beauty that is the Sonoran desert, and to soaking in the experience as it happened.

And so it goes with life. We are so frequently waiting for the “next thing” to happen, or what we need to do later, tomorrow, or next month. In chasing the future, we miss the moment we are in as it spills over us. More so than any other distance I’ve done, running 100 miles slows my focus, despite a life that is otherwise jam-packed with busy-ness.

John took this video the day before the race. It gives a good sense of the beauty of the desert as the morning sun wakes up.

Cycles & Loops

I lived some amazing moments during Javelina Jundred, where I felt like I could run forever. Then, there were times when I thought I would never get to the finish line, and thus be forced to run forever.

Coming in from the 2nd loop. The thin-lipped smile is a dead giveaway: I’ve felt better.

Then, I would cycle back to amazing joy.

And, then, again, bottomless misery.

And so on until the finish line, which of course, equals joy.

I felt my worst during the second loop of the race, which is roughly miles 22-40–in particular miles 30-40 were rough and ragged. The sun was high. The heat was on. My stomach had heat-induced yuckiness. And, my legs felt sore…already. My revel in the early morning rising sun was now a battle not to curse its fiery existence.

How was I going to make it to the end?

As I passed through Javelina Jeadquarters to start out on the third loop, John said: “Okay, keep yourself cool, this will be the hottest loop.”

Ugh. Seriously? I was already SO HOT.

I trotted off with ice in my handkerchiefs. In my hat. In my hands. In my camelback. In my shirt. In my…all-the-places.

The strange and wonderful thing about this distance is that it is so long. So, if you just stick with the effort, 9 times out of 10, you WILL actually feel better. Case in point: that third loop was not worse than the second one. I felt better.

Signs to help you keep your head straight for direction direction to run in the washing-machine style loop course.

And I felt better still on the fourth loop. I clocked some of my fastest miles between 70 and 80 miles!

I sailed into Javelina Jeadquarters at the end of the 4th loop, feeling fresh! It seems unbelievable – but that’s how it happens.

Life cycles up and down too. I’ve experienced heartbreaking misery, stings of sadness so sharp they felt like they cut me open. Yet, in pushing through these moments, giving time to pass through the misery, I have had times of intense joy, extraordinary blessings and deep emotional connection.

We just can’t cycle through the beauty, without rounding a bit through the shit.

Coming in to the end of the fourth loop. I had managed to catch up with our friend Eric, and we ran some of those last miles together. What was I saying to John here? Its a mystery… but he seems to think I was saying, “Hey sexy stud, let’s get our run on!” It’s likely…

Don’t stop believing.

I know. This is a lesson I’ve spoken of so many times before. But, really: Don’t. Stop. Believing. Ever.

When I came in from the 4th loop, I picked up John as my pacer for the final 20 miles. At this point, I had miles and miles of listening only to the voices in my head, which are fine, but after 80 miles, a real voice is also cool. I was ready to chat it up. I had stories to tell about the coyote calls, the crazy costumes, the way I felt throughout the day.

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  The first half of the final loop went well. But, I was hungry. At some point during the 4th loop, I started eating grilled cheese squares at some of the aid stations, and storing them in my camelbak pockets to eat as I went along. (Side note: When we came home, and I cleaned out my gear, there was actually little pieces of cold and very old sammiches in there. Flavor savers!)

The first aid station we came to didn’t have any grilled cheese, but they did have cheese quesadillas. SOLD to the hungry lady running 100 miles! More flavor savers in my pockets.

Then, we made our way to the next aid station, which was about 6 miles further – and at the halfway-ish point of the loop (Jackass Junction, see video below). They did not have grilled cheese or quesadillas or anything that made me want to eat it – despite a variety of choices.

I was on Team: Grilled cheese or die.

Regrettably, I made a bad choice at this point to choose death. Okay, maybe not death, but calorie-deficiency.

I’ll be fine with my clif bars and tailwind until the next station, I thought.

And, off we went, skipping into the night, at this point, with about 10 miles left to go. I bit into my clif bar.

Uh, no. Apparently, there was a limit on how many of those I could manage to sneak by my taste buds in a day, and I had just exceeded that limit. It was a no go. My stomach was fine. My mouth just refused to make saliva to process a bar that seemed to be made of talcum powder and chalk dust.

The funny thing is that maybe 2 hour prior to starting on the grilled cheese and quesadillas, this bar tasted like magic. Cycles, indeed.

Above is video (not taken by us) from Jackass Junction which was the mid-way aid station. It’s pretty funny to see all this life and drunkenness in the middle of the desert, in the middle of the night when you come stumbling through. This video was taken in 2016, but the scene in 2017 (and 2015) was exactly the same. 

  So, I kept sipping on my tailwind, which was maybe going to get me about 100 calories an hour. Not enough. My stomach growled, and then the hangries set in.

And now, I bring you back to the beginning of this blog post, when the depths of my caloric-deficit were their sharpest, and my hangries were the hangriest they had been. Ms. Cranky Pants was in full effect at mile 96ish.

John was dealing with a petulant child who just wanted her grilled cheese. (Those who have crewed me in the past will tell you: DO NOT TOUCH MARIA’S GRILLED CHEESE.)

Our magic toolbox of calories makes crewing so much easier – especially for point to point courses where you need to pack in to aid stations. The secret: a toolbox! Sadly, there was no talking me in to any of these calories in the wee hours. I wanted GRILLED CHEESE!

In that moment, I didn’t necessarily recognize what I was feeling as the need for calories, but that’s what it was in hindsight. The crankiness really should have tipped me off.

I felt tired. My legs hurt. I felt my super-secret goal slipping away from me. Wah. Wah. Wah. Wah. Somebody call the waaaahhhhmbulance; this girl is a goner.

After we passed through the final aid station on the loop, we had roughly 3.7 miles left to go, with 45 minutes to make the super secret goal happen. I had slowed so disappointingly between mile 90 and that point. My sub-21 hour “cushion” was threadbare, crushing my dream that I might actually crush the super secret goal.

I needed to run about a 12 minute mile at this point to finish under 21 hours. Earlier in the day, this was easily accomplished – even with stops at aid stations, bathroom breaks, etc.

Now, a 12 minute mile seemed akin to a 6 minute mile.

John cajoled me. He ran a little bit ahead of me, trying to convince me to keep up. (Side note: If you want to poke the grizzly bear, just run ahead of her.) He spoke inspirational mantras, to which I replied with nasty rejoinders (in hindsight, most of which were pretty funny). He gave me gels, which I choked down.

And, through all of this, we ran. Each step, feeling like 1,000 hot pin-pricks through my legs, butt and hips.

I wanted to walk. I wanted to slow down. I wanted to stop. Those final 4 miles felt like the longest of the entire day.

But I didn’t walk. I didn’t slow down. I did not stop.

Each step was a conscious choice that I was not giving up on my super-secret goal. Each step was a conscious choice that I would not give in – I would get on. Anything worth having should not come easy. This challenge, this moment – this is exactly what I signed up for.

It was time to dig from my bottomless well. So, I got out the shovel.

We played a game in which I would surge for about 20-30 seconds, then go back to my trot. Those surges, over about a mile or so, brought some life back into my tattered legs. Those surges made the difference. I didn’t want to do them, but I’m glad I chose the hard option. I’m glad John helped me make that choice.

When we got within a mile of the finish line, we could hear the music thumping from Javelina Jeadquarters. That place is a full-blown PAR-TAY in the night time.

“Do you hear that, Maria? That’s the finish!” John’s face was excited, yet pleading. “You can still do this!”

While I had my doubts, I forced myself to hold on to the “speed” from the surges, and we were running just a tick faster, then a tick more.

  The buckle shot.

When you come into the Jeadquarters after each loop, you run a roughly 400-meter loop around the make-shift village. When we came in to the loop, John looked to his left, and could see the clock. I had about 2 minutes to make the finish under 21 hours.

“Maria: we have to go NOW. You can do this.”

And, that’s the story of how a finished a 100 mile race with a hardest sustainable 400 meter sprint – in 20 hours 59 minutes and 31 seconds. I was the 6th female across the finish line, and the 39th overall finisher. I set a 32 minute PR for the 100 mile distance.

I was hurting. I was hungry. But, I lived a good lifetime in this one day, so I was happy.

Dig From the Bottomless Well: 2017 Javelina Jundred Race Report We were about 4 miles out from the finish line with about 45 minutes to spare in order for me to finish under 21 hours at the…

[davidarc]

An Alternative Author Interview:

TCL’s Countdown Questions.

This week I’m featuring author Elizabeth Hutchison Bernard

There are many subjects that, when included in novels, will pique my interest immediately, be they historical or contemporary fiction. One of them is music of any kind (’cause there’s lots of musical talent in my family). That’s why I was thrilled to get the opportunity to read “Temptation Rag” before publication, which also introduced me to Elizabeth Hutchison Bernard. I caught her just as she was on her way to the Highlands of Scotland to research her next novel (oooh… tell me more!), but she was generous enough to take the time prior to her travels to write these replies…

If you could visit five (5) places you’ve never been, where would you go and why?

I’m actually on my way now to the Scottish Highlands, where I have never been before. Because I am always thinking about my next book (the one I’ve recently begun writing takes place in the Highlands during the Victorian Era through WWI), this trip is largely about research. I will be touring castles, interviewing an earl, and tromping through the woods and boggy lowlands (hoping to escape the notice of those awful biting midges!). Second on my list would be the haunted castles of England. I’ve been to various parts of England but not had the opportunity to stay in a genuinely haunted castle. Again, this has to do with my novel-writing as much as anything else, though I have always had an interest in the paranormal. Third choice: a small island anywhere that is warm and verdant and relatively safe from wild beasts where I could “chill” for a little while as the lone inhabitant. I love nature and I love solitude—though I’m sure I would invite my husband and our frisky 10-year-old black lab. Fourth, a long journey through a tropical rainforest to cultivate my primal side. Fifth, I would like to be a guest at Eko-in, a Japanese ryokan (inn) based in a 1000-year-old Buddhist temple, where I would meditate, join the Goma fire ritual, and enjoy Japanese vegetarian cuisine. I find traditional Japanese culture very interesting and beautiful, and Eko-in would be the ultimate way to experience it.

http://www.ekoin.jp/en/innai/index.html

http://www.ekoin.jp/en/innai/index.html

http://www.ekoin.jp/en/innai/index.html

http://www.ekoin.jp/en/innai/index.html

http://www.ekoin.jp/en/innai/index.html

Name four (4) foods or dishes that you enjoy so much that they’ve practically become part of your personality.

I am very spoiled when it comes to food, because my husband is a fantastic cook who does all the meal preparation at our house. But I also enjoy really simple, basic foods. If I had to choose four basic foods to eat exclusively for the rest of my life, they would probably be salmon, cheese, roasted peanuts in the shell (like you get at baseball games), and, of course, chocolate. A combo of fresh, salty, and sweet.

There is the past, the present, and the future – if you could choose, which of these three (3) would you prefer to live in, and why?

Even though I am an author of historical fiction and fascinated with the past, I prefer living in the present. In many parts of the world, this is the best time ever to be a woman. There is nothing we can’t be or do. So thanks, but I think I’ll stay right here in 2019.

Best and worst – you choose which – name two (2) of either your best moments of your life, worst moments of your life, or one of each.

One of my best moments occurred when I was attending Northwestern University. This was ten years later than most people go to college, since I was involved in my music career as a touring vocalist until I was 28. I was taking a wonderful course about mythology and literature taught by a brilliant Jungian psychologist. For “extra credit,” I wrote a song on the piano with lyrics based on the myth of Narcissus and recorded myself playing and singing it. I brought the recording to class, and when my professor heard it, he turned to me, looking very surprised, and said, “Why, you’re an artist.” That moment was one I will never forget because, though I had spent nearly a decade as a performer, I was still searching for my identity as a serious artist and to be acknowledged by someone I respected so much meant a great deal.

My worst moment was when I received the news that the Coast Guard was calling off the search for a boat on which my late husband and two of his friends had been fishing in Lake Michigan. The two friends were eventually found in the water wearing life jackets. They were dead from hypothermia. My husband was never found, though it is presumed he went down with the boat (pieces of which were found). While all this occurred many years ago, the exact circumstances of what happened still are not known.

Name one (1) book you’ve read in the past year (or so) that you wish you had written, and why.

Hard to choose, but one of my favorite books of the past year is The Women in the Castle by Jessica Shattuck. I thought the author did a great job presenting the difficult social and political climate of postwar Germany. Most of all, I loved the way she developed the complex relationships between the book’s female characters. And I always love a good castle!

Thanks Elizabeth! Hope your Scotland trip was bonny and successful, and as midge free as possible!

Elizabeth Hutchison Bernard is an award-winning author of historical fiction.  Her debut novel “The Beauty Doctor” is an historical thriller that takes place in the early days of cosmetic surgery, when the world of medicine was a bit like the Wild West and “beauty doctors” were the newest breed of outlaw. The Beauty Doctor was a finalist for the Eric Hoffer Book Award, National Indie Excellence Awards, AZ Literary Awards, and is a Medallion Honoree of the Book Readers Appreciation Group. Bernard’s second book, “Temptation Rag: A Novel,” immerses readers in the bawdy atmosphere of vaudeville and early 20th century African American musical theater in a story about the price of freedom, the longing for immortality, and the human need to find forgiveness. Publishers Weekly wrote “Bernard’s resonant novel . . . about the birth and demise of ragtime . . . is a lively tale in which romance and creative passions abound.” Temptation Rag is a Readers’ Favorite 5-star pick and a Medallion Honoree of the Book Readers Appreciation Group.

  TCL's Countdown Questions #17: Author Elizabeth Hutchison Bernard @EHBernardAuthor who wrote both #TemptationRag and #TheBeautyDoctor. Thanks for this! An Alternative Author Interview: TCL's Countdown Questions. This week I’m featuring author Elizabeth Hutchison Bernard There are many subjects that, when included in novels, will pique my interest immediately, be they historical or contemporary fiction.

[pharaohfontain]

In the light of the current happenings between Ghanaians and Nigerians, particularly the plight of many Nigerians in Ghana, I have decided to write this article as a guideline for many of my brothers and sisters, considering coming to Ghana, be it for schooling, business, touring or just a visit, these are 7 things you need to know before coming to Ghana, so you can enjoy your stay in Ghana and also get the best experiences while you choose to remain in Ghana. I have lived in Ghana for 16 years now, so if i can’t offer you valid guidelines, nobody else can.

Akwaaba in the Akan language of Ghana means Welcome.

MAKE SURE THAT YOUR TRAVEL DOCUMENTS ARE ALWAYS IN ORDER:

Nigeria and Ghana are both ECOWAS countries with even closer ties, but if you want to obtain the best out of the Ghanaian system while you remain in Ghana, I suggest you have your documents (NON-CITIZENSHIP ID & RESIDENTIAL PERMIT) intact. So to avoid a situation where you cant even have a bank account, mobile money services, own property or even run the simplest business which are the basic essentials of any society today, I advise you make sure your RESIDENTIAL PERMIT AND PASSPORT are always in order and up to date.

Ghana is a free country where it is possible for you to own a business, have a mobile money account or even buy property without a residential permit or a passport, but if you want to be protected by the law you MUST always insist that your documents are up to date. It is possible for someone to amass great wealth but without the necessary valid documentations, you run the risk of losing every single thing you have worked for and it will be legally taken. Many Nigerians in particular have been victims to this, so do not make the same mistake.

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Before coming to Ghana make sure you have your passport ready, stamp it at the border and when you come into the country the stamp allows you certain liberties for 3 months at most. But if you see yourself staying in Ghana beyond 6 months or you are considering doing business in the country, I suggest you go to the Ghana Immigration authority and obtain your NON-CITIZENSHIP ID and RESIDENTIAL PERMIT. As of August 2019 the cost for a fresh applicant of NON-CITIZENSHIP ID is $120 and to renew it is $60 per year, before you can procure this you will be required to pass through medical analysis that will be done within the immigration office, the medical report costs 900 Ghana Cedis this is equivalent to $165. As an ECOWAS citizen in Ghana you are given the gracious offer of paying only “$500” for residential permit per year, while non ECOWAS citizen are required to pay $1000 per year if they wish to renew their license each year. This $500 or $1000 is to be paid each year if you wish to renew your residential permit.

$500 as ECOWAS citizen is a very high price to pay for the renewal of residential permit each year, but since no one complains about it why should they do something about the price?

You can remain in Ghana without this non-citizenship or residential permit but you do so at your own risk, as you can be ejected from the country at anytime and whatever accomplishment you have will be taken away. So I advise strongly that any Nigerian planning on being in Ghana beyond 6 months MUST acquire these documents or live in the fringes of society subject to extortion and constant fear.

AVOID HANGING OUT AT BLUE KIOSK BARS & GHETTOS OR SLUMS:

Ghanaians enjoy drinking, drinking is part of the culture just as it is in Nigeria, in every neighborhood you will very easily find at least one or two bars within every 5 mile radius. Many of these bars are the drinking joint for many of the hoodlums in the area, you do not want to be in these kind of places beyond buying your drink and taking it home if that is absolutely necessary, as a foreigner you must understand that to many such rundown places view you as a source of income not a person, There are many, MANY stories of Nigerians just hanging out and drinking at these blue kiosk bars when they are singled out by the criminals just because they are Nigerians and those poor non educated ones in the society see at as a duty of theirs to take from you what they feel you are taken from their country.

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Avoid these kinds of drinking spot at all cost!!!

Avoid these kinds of drinking spot at all cost!!!

You also do not want to be in the ghettos for ANY reason because regardless of what you are doing there, once the police comes in for whatever reason, you as a Nigerian remain guilty until proven innocent. Avoid these places and hangout where you have other foreigners as yourself if you wish to remain within a protected class where you wont have much issues. Hangout in such placed that has a high influx of foreigners or mingle more with educated and well traveled Ghanaians, these are usually the best kind of people you can hangout with.

Nigerians are treated with healthy doze of apprehension in the Ghanaian society, those in the middle and upper middle class generally avoid meaningful interactions with Nigerians beyond party time, this is because the average Ghanaian truly believes that the average Nigerian is out to outsmart them or very recently “Kidnap” them, this is funny but it is true. The truth is that many Nigerians who are obvious illegals come into the country and mess up so terribly that when you look into the situation you understand easily why Ghanaians see Nigerians the way they do. The only way to change this is to watch the life we live in the country, and be mindful that how we choose to live our lives reflect on our nation as a whole.

AS A NIGERIAN MAN PLEASE CHOOSE YOUR WOMEN WISELY:

As a Nigerian man in Ghana please be aware that you will have a very nice time with dating and romance in Ghana, this is not because the Ghanaian women are cheap, it is simply because in every society on earth, women are naturally drawn to the foreigners, to the strangers. You must be mindful of how you engage women as this is the downfall of too many Nigerian men, you do not want to be the Nigerian man that is a womanizer in Ghana, you get all the sex you want but it is only a matter of time before the people around you find the slightest reason to mistreat you severely. I knew a guy who was an avid womanizer, he wasn’t just a womanizer but the type that will make it badly obviously, he was the type that asked almost everyone out, he thought he was living the life. One day he came back from work to discover that his home was invaded, vandalized and looted. Not even his shoes were left. Womanizing seems like a small thing but try not to date from your neighborhood please, you only bring more hatred to yourself when you already have a bad stigma attached to your nationality.

Remember that one of the complains of the Ghanaians on media is that we are taking their women and this seems like a small thing but they feel very strongly about it. You can date all the women you want but please have some class in the way you choose to go about it, NOT IN YOUR NEIGHBORHOOD ABEG!!! And be very careful of the type of lady you allow into your life, in Ghana women are the number one downfall of our brothers in Ghana, please be carefully.

TRY TO LEARN THE LANGUAGE:

I believe that if only you as a Nigerian can familiarize yourself with the most popularly spoken language in Ghana which is akan (Twi) I think you will find a lot of things easy. You can get the best deals at the market, your transportation experience with the taxi drivers will be much more pleasant. Learning the language and familiarizing yourself with the Ghanaian expressions and way of life will make your stay in Ghana so pleasant. Despite the whole issue with how Nigerians are seen in Ghana, Ghanaians are usually very accommodating people, if you are the type that opens yourself up to experiencing the Ghanaian lifestyle and language as it is experienced by the Ghanaian, I think you will enjoy your stay a little too much.

WATCH THE COMPANY YOU KEEP WHILE IN GHANA:

There is an expression that there is no smoke without fire and this is true, even in the situation of Nigerians in Ghana. Many Nigerians have turned themselves into raging brain dead animals, many of these Nigerians will fight at the drop of a hat, get loud for no reason, insult easily and generally are very arrogant people to be around. Many of these type of Nigerians are either completely jobless, illiterate or criminals who escaped the law in Nigeria and are now hiding in Ghana, trying to continue the evil they ran from.

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Please my fellow Nigerians, never you ever keep the company of any Nigerian who behaves like the aforementioned, they will get themselves and you in trouble, it is usually just a matter of time before it happens. There are many Nigerians frustrated in Ghana, undocumented, illegal or plain criminals, please avoid them and any where they are congregated, you do not want to be identified with those type of people whether they be Ghanaian, Nigerian or any other nationality. You can find them in all the dark corners and blue kiosk bars or ghettos chilling like it is home, always have it in your mind that you are a foreigner and do not follow or relate with anyone that behaves in an unsavory manner. If you know any that behave like this already, cut them off and concentrate on your education or business in Ghana, these kinds will only lead you into a mess and many times they usually are the ones who escape while you remain in police custody answering questions that are not made for you in the first place.

CULTURAL DIFFERENCES TO TAKE IN MIND:

Ghana is a predominantly mother land, one of the biggest tribes in Ghana inherits kingship from the female line not from the male line. You can read about this on a wikipedia article about Akan chieftaincy for more understanding of this kind of society.

Ghana unlike Nigeria is predominantly motherland area, the culture and people are much more subtle in their approach towards everything, business, affairs and life in general. As a Nigerian when you first arrive in Ghana you may almost lose your mind at the slow pace of everything but please be patient, if you come to Ghana with the fast pace and quick action that animates the Nigerian society you will be interpreted as loud, insolent or simply arrogant. So I suggest you learn to be patient, eventually you will find a group of people and opportunity that matches your pace.

The mistakes many Nigerians make is to bring the Nigerian mentality to Ghana without some adjustments and think it will work just the same, people who do this are only creating the impression that because they are Nigerian they are smarter or better and there is no better way to alienate yourself from your Ghanaian counterparts. This will in reality makes them fear you as they will soon believe you are attempting to outsmart them, when in reality you are just living the way you are used to living. One of my 9 laws of power; NEVER OUTSHINE YOUR HOSTS, YOU ARE SUBJECT TO MISINTERPRETATION. Learn to keep a low profile and learn to work with them based on the pace of the lifestyle in Ghana, it is possible too.

Burial is a serious party event in Ghana, burials are more festive events than birthdays in Ghana, workers actually take time off to go to the burials of someone they dont really know, usually because they are invited. This wont happen in Nigeria but these are subtle things your should know so you understand better those who you will be working with, working under or those who will be working for you.

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Do not give or take anything from anyone with your left hand, this is seriously frowned upon.

Just ask questions and be willing to learn these cultural differences and accept them as they are, the understanding of this will allow you to know how to better navigate the society without having issues with people.

PLEASE MY BROTHERS AND SISTERS KNOW YOUR LANE AND STICK TO IT:

Yes Ghana is part of ECOWAS and the AFRICAN UNION, yes culturally we are very similar in many ways but you must always remember that you are a foreigner in a foreign country. You must remember that regardless of how long you have lived in Ghana you can not act in the same capacity as a native of Ghana. You must be aware of this in the places you frequent, you must be aware of this in the kind of business you own, your work place or activities you choose to partake in. There are Chinese, Arabs, Europeans and many other African nationalities in Ghana doing business and living life, you never see them, you never hear of them but they are doing everything that any Nigerian can do but the only difference is that they choose their environment carefully and they carry themselves with respect.

The mistake many Nigerians make is that they come to Ghana and for some strange reason believe that they too are Ghanaians, it doesn’t work like that, if you do not carry yourself with integrity you do not deserve any respect. Many Nigerians are to blame for how Nigerians are seen and portrayed in the Ghanaian society, we fail to understand that we are foreigners and must behave properly to be treated properly. If many Nigerians were not failing in how they conduct themselves around our Ghanaian brothers and sisters, we won’t be portrayed as criminals and kidnappers. Yes it is ridiculous to judge 1000 people based on the crimes of 70 people but I still maintain that 70 misbehaving people is still 70 too many. Nigerians are to blame too.

The truth of the matter remains that somethings should and must be for Ghanaians alone, when you as a foreigner appear to have no boundaries in the system or lack the understanding that you are still a foreigner, you will always run into issues.

If you are a Nigerian thinking of coming to Ghana I believe these 7 guidelines will serve you well, this is my understanding of what give Nigerians the trouble they face after 16 years of living amongst our Ghanaian brothers and sisters. We must understand that there are cultural differences, many Nigerians make the mistake of trying to bring a Nigerian system to Ghana, it never works. Understand that you are a foreigner and embrace the culture of the people, avoid low life places and low life people who will easily put you into problems be they Ghanaian or Nigerian or anywhere else. If you can understand these lessons and follow them, you will have the best experience in Ghana, even as a Nigerian regardless of how the media has portrayed us.

I end this article with this proverbs “Good actions will always attract good reactions” “One bad nut destroys the taste of a hundred good nuts” Always remember, your actions and habits reflects on not just you but the society you are a part of.

DEAR NIGERIANS: 7 Things you MUST know before you visit GHANA In the light of the current happenings between Ghanaians and Nigerians, particularly the plight of many Nigerians in Ghana, I have decided to write this article as a guideline for many of my brothers and sisters, considering coming to Ghana, be it for schooling, business, touring or just a visit, these are 7 things you need to know before coming to Ghana, so you can enjoy your stay in Ghana and also get the best experiences while you choose to remain in Ghana.

[alivelyfancy]

Aguas Calientes is the small town located at the base of Machu Picchu and dedicated solely to tourism. Having known what we know now, we might have scheduled our trip to Machu Picchu a bit differently, arriving earlier on the first day and departing in the afternoon of day two rather than staying for a second night. (Take note future travelers!) The first train to depart Aguas Calientes doesn’t leave until 3:20 pm, leaving us with a lot of time to kill and not much to do, but with such a beautiful setting we can’t complain too much! We slept in (8 am compared to 4:30 am yesterday) and then had a leisurely breakfast at our hotel. We didn’t realize it because it was dark at 5 am when we were eating breakfast yesterday but there’s a gorgeous view of the river from the restaurant. The food is amazing! Potatoes, chicken, fresh fruit, yogurts, homemade jams and rich coffee.

Our view of the river from the hotel’s breakfast area

Our waiter José Luis ended up talking to us for a while (again the advantage of speaking Spanish and getting the inside scoop). He told us many places to visit when we come back to Peru and asked if we were traveling together. As a brother and father be was very concerned for our safety. He told us about one woman who was traveling by herself and then they didn’t know how she died. The ruins are dangerous so you have to be careful. We also learned how the hospitality industry in Aguas Calientes works. A few live in Aguas Calientes, but many are Cusco and other nearby towns. They work for 25 days and live in dorms provided by the hotel or restaurant, and then return home for 10 days.

Downtown Aguas Calientes

Exploring Aguas Calientes

After we checked out and left our bags with the hotel and wandered around the small town. There are a few stone sculptures throughout town depicting Inca, Andean and Amazonian culture. The tourist information booth providing us with a walking tour map. We learned a lot about Pacchamama (mother earth) as well as other Incan customs.

My favorite were the sculptures depicting regional dances. To reach these we walked past the fútbol (soccer) field through the less touristy parts of Aguas Calientes. The change was remarkable, definitely poorer, but still bustling boosted by the tourist industry, which supports the town. Two of the dances depicted were satires: one of Chilean warriors and the other of lawyers. Take whatever meaning you’d like from that!

The lawyer dance

The dancer dresses like a Chilean soldier

We decided not to do the hot springs or buy crafts here (“They are going to be more expensive here than in Cusco,” Miquelas at the front desk of the hotel told us).

Tourist trap artisinal market. Much more expensive than in Cusco!

Back to Cusco

Getting to the train station was no problem, but getting on the right train was a different story. Disorganization struck again. There were many announcements over the intercom for train 74 (not our train) and the screens kept showing different train that departed later. Finally after train 74 pulled out of the station a Peru Rail worker poked his head out the door and yelled 34. There was no other announcement. Another funny thing happened. While waiting in the train station a man asked in English if be could take a picture with me.

“Why?”

“Ok.” And then he disappeared. I thought this only happened in Asia, but I guess not!? 😐

Passing by the mountains that disappear into cloud as the Urubamba River flows by and Peruvian music plays is indescribable. I love it! The bus ride afforded some beautiful views of the Urubamba River, but was bumpy so I took a nap.

The view from the bus

After disembarking in Cusco heards of taxi drivers offering “cheap” rides, crowded the exit nearly blocking it to the point where I yelled, “¡Solo quiero salir!” (I only want to exit.) AKA get out of my way! Immediately the driver responded very respectfully, “Sí señora, se puede salir por acá.” (Yes ma’am you can exit right this way).

It was getting late, so we headed straight to la Plaza de Armas to buy souvenirs. We passed by several ladies carrying their wares and put our bargaining skills to work and made out quite nicely. In my opinion we didn’t bargain to hard, but we got an acceptable price.

From there still wearing our huge backpacks we followed the directions provided by Israel, one of the front desk attendants in our hotel at Aguascalientes to eat guinea pig. We were walking down a dark, less touristy path in the rain with no restaurant lights in site. There were still locals walking around, but we decided to duck into a shop to ask for help. The store keeper told us those restaurants were all closed for the evening and would only open in the afternoon tomorrow. We headed back to the touristy area and finally found a restaurant to serve us guy al horno, guinea pig cooked in the oven. It was pretty interesting, but the skin was very tough, like leather. You eat it with your hands and Peruvians normally eat everything, including the head, but we just couldn’t do it with its creepy teeth poking out.

Dinner is served! It was quite an experience. Fortunately they carved it up for us after this picture was taken.

Exploring Aguas Calientes - More details from my #bachelorette trip to #Peru! Aguas Calientes is the small town located at the base of Machu Picchu and dedicated solely to tourism.

[panamagreg]

On July 18 friends and relatives gathered for the launch of my first book. The event was a bit rough given the whole COVID-19 worldwide pandemic. We gave a lot of thought and prayer to how we could launch the book on a virtual platform. We wanted to make the event available to the majority of our friends and family. Facebook live event turned out that the best way to make the launch event available to the most people, so that was the platform we selected. I scheduled guests who we thought would be able to join us in person from our condo here in Panama. A few days prior to the launch, we learned that the weekend would be total lockdown here and our guests had to be given the option to prerecord their greetings. We had all but one of our guests record their greetings.  The other joined us in person. It looks like we had over 300 of you join us in real time or watch it later. I am sharing a replay here for any of you who would like to see it. Replay of “2 Retire In Panama?” launch event

I have also taken a little time to work on my You Tube Channel where you can find the prerecorded messages of my guests.. A visit to my You Tube channel is also a great way to see some of our adventures. Please feel free to subscribe to see future updates. The short segments of the Panama Canal are pretty awesome. These are clips that I used in my previous blog post, The Panama Canal Tour, during our first trip to Panama. There is also numerous picture video clips of our recent trip to Israel. Many of these videos I produced for my friend and author Mesu Andrews; others I made for myself. It seems that I have gotten better at these as time goes by, and I will share future adventures there. When you click on the links here just use the back browser to bring you back to the remainder of the blog post.

A look at my previous blog posts in the archives will give you all some insight into much of the content of my book. A picture paints a thousand words. My writing skills are still a bit raw and my mentor tells me to strive to paint pictures with my writing. The pictures are there for all to see in the blog posts.  

Since the beginning of our adventures in Panama, the blog has been my way to share with friends and followers. During that time, I have found myself following several blogs of others living or adventuring abroad. When the pandemic started many of them used their platform to let their followers know where they were trapped and how they were dealing with it. A couple of them used their platform to complain about the situation and blame the governments of the world for the predicament. Jen and I chose not to post much about what we were going through. We recognize that the situation is all in God’s hands and how we deal with it is deeply rooted in our faith in Him. We are thankful every day that we are spending the pandemic in Panama. The government here is often criticized for their handling of it, but we have felt safe in the knowledge that they are taking extraordinary measures to keep us safe.

When we returned home from our abbreviated vacation in the Holy Land, we were quarantined in our home for 14 days. At the end of the quarantine the Ministry of Health called us to confirm our good health. It was about then that nationwide restrictions were imposed to minimize the movement of people and the spread of the virus. Our restrictions remain in effect with men and women allowed out for 2 hours, 2 or 3 times per week. These times are on alternating days based on the number on one’s Cedula for Nationals and passport’s for residents. This time is for shopping and visiting the pharmacy. All restaurants have been closed and are allowed only to serve delivery and takeout. The churches, pools, beaches, and gyms (even inside condos) were all closed and visiting friends was forbidden. Netflix and Hulu became our best friends. Most recently many of the restrictions are being relaxed and we are now enjoying our pool and gym. We have been able to have friends for lunch and a friendly game of Dominoes, as long as we follow certain protocols.

I spent the majority of the time during lockdown finishing my book. Once the rough draft was completed it went through many edits, a bit of rearranging, and formatting. I then had to develop the cover and submit it for approval at Amazon. It took a great deal of work to bring it to fruition. I was thankful for the hours of seclusion which kept my butt in the chair.

Social and main stream media are not always our friend. I spend a great deal of time on social media now promoting the book to potential readers and keeping on top of what is going on in the community. People seem to use social media to bash one another and complain about  how the pandemic is being handled. There can be valuable information there; but everyone has to sift through it to find what is good and worth reading. It seems that at times the mainstream media is not in our best interest either. Daily news from around the world tends to twist the news to benefit certain political and other  agendas. I implore all of you to keep yourselves safe in a way in which you are comfortable. If you have health concerns, aside from COVID, stay at home where you will not be exposed. If you must go out in public, wear your mask to protect yourself and others.

Wear your mask and practice social distancing

I am being asked now when I will write another book. I will not commit to anything until I see how the first one pans out, but the questions cause me to think about what I may write. Jen says I need to take a stab at fiction. I wish that there was enough content in the sunsets for a book. Every evening we enjoy marvelous sunsets. I could not share a blog post without pictures and I am choosing to share a few of the pictures that I have taken during the lockdown. God paints us a beautiful picture daily and we are thankful to be able to enjoy these gifts from Him.

Sunsets in paradise.

Sunsets in paradise.

Sunsets in paradise.

Sunsets in paradise.

Sunsets in paradise.

Sunsets in paradise.

Sunsets in paradise.

I think that I have given you enough for now. I would like to point out the icons on the bottom of the post. Follow us on any of the social media platforms there. I admit that I do better at keeping up with some than I do on others. Please like and share everything I post so that I can get the exposure needed to make the book successful.

As a thank you for being readers and followers of my blog, I am offering the Kindle version for half price until noon Central Time on July 30, 2020.  Buy the Kindle version here .

Blessings from Panama,

Greg and Jen

  The Launch of “2 Retire In Panama?” (the book) and more…. On July 18 friends and relatives gathered for the launch of my first book. The event was a bit rough given the whole COVID-19 worldwide pandemic.

[sewgeekmama]

When the world changes, you have to change with it. So when COVID-19 hit and quarantine kicked in, we had to make some changes to our daily life and we had to adapt quickly. No more school, working from home, social distancing and mask wearing were just a few of the things that suddenly became part of daily life.

Here’s just a few of the ways we adapted to the challenges of the COVID-19 pandemic:

Homeschooling 

My son was just getting into the swing of things in preschool and kindergarten prep, so when school shut down we knew we needed to keep up on things. Every day we try to do some “learning time” and practice the alphabet, writing and sight words. We try to make it fun, but honestly it’s a struggle. I can only imagine what parents are going through with kids in regular school! Out of all of this, I think school is the thing I miss the most. I need the break and my son is WAY better at learning in the classroom than he is at home! I really hope things are better enough by August for school to resume.

We Finally Got Disney+

Everybody was talking about Disney+ and The Mandalorian when it came out, but I didn’t feel like watching a whole new TV series and we had plenty of stuff already on Netflix and Amazon Prime. I didn’t think we needed another channel. Well after being stuck at home with a 5-year-old for a few weeks and watching everything a million times, I decided yes indeed we needed more channels, especially one with ALL the Disney movies. So I finally succumbed to the lure of Disney TV.

I have to admit, I do love that it has all the Star Wars movies! And if COVID-19 hadn’t kicked up, I’d probably want to subscribe anyway when the new Obi-Wan series with Ewan McGregor is added, though it will be a shame if some predictions hold true and it doesn’t end up being ready until June 2022. Of course, there’s plenty of stuff on there to keep us entertained until then.

Working from Home

While working from home is normal for me, it’s a new thing for my husband. In fact, just being home isn’t even normal for him since he was deployed overseas all last year. We adapted by turning part of our bedroom into a home office. We also added a new bedroom door with a lock so there could be more privacy. Now we both have a small desk area and a quiet place to escape the constant pestering of a small child. Not that it actually works, as we both still get interrupted about a thousand times a day. But it sort of works, so we’ll take it.

I Started Sewing Masks

Once I realized everyone was going to be needing masks, I got to work drafting a pattern for a simple but comfortable face mask. Then I started sewing. And sewing. And I’m still sewing! I’ve made enough to donate a good portion and am also still selling them in my Etsy Shop: SewGeekMama on Etsy. I only list the Etsy ones when they are ready to ship because I never know what my days are going to be like, and some days I don’t have time to sew at all. I’ve stayed up late many nights sewing, which is something I haven’t done in a while. I have actually really enjoyed sewing something so useful! Seeing the positive feedback and reviews from people make me pretty happy too.

Social Distancing

It takes an effort for me to be social, so when all upcoming events were cancelled I was both disappointed and kind of relieved to clear my calendar. The hardest thing to do was stay away from friends who have kids my son’s age. I can only play LEGOs/Nerf war/car chase so many times before I need a break. So we selectively socialized within our neighborhood. We also took advantage of the beautiful cool weather and hung out by our fire pit every night, while waving to neighbors as they walked by.

How have you adapted to Covid-19?

While looking through photos for this post I realized there were many other things we did, like working on house projects, drive-through preschool graduation and paying more attention to the amount of toilet paper we consumed, but these were a few of the main things I thought of.

So how is it at your house? Are you working from home and making changes? Or is it business as usual? I find it interesting to hear about what others are doing in this really weird time in history. Please leave me a comment and let me know how the pandemic has changed your life in this moment.

How We Adapted to Challenges of COVID-19 When the world changes, you have to change with it. So when COVID-19 hit and quarantine kicked in, we had to make some changes to our daily life and we had to adapt quickly.

[kobikoachman]

Men’s Shoe Formality Guide and Scale : How Shoes Rank From Formal To Informal

From dress shoes cut from plain leather to shoes cut with intricate designs to non-dress shoes, there are many options to choose from when it comes to men’s shoes. Our men’s shoe formality guide will help you in picking the right shoes for the right occasion and dress code.

  A lot of men don’t know the right shoes to wear with different outfits. Sadly, in my day to day life, I always come across many men who make the same mistake of wearing their right shoes with the wrong outfit.

They are so focused on what they wear on the upper body clothing – their jacket, shirt, necktie, watch, etc.

And overlook the details down below, such as their shoes and how to take care of them. They wear the wrong shoes or a pair of old shoes that have seen their glory days.

As a stylish gentleman who is conscious of his style, who understands how clothing and style choices can influence his image and success, you must make every effort to project the right image by ensuring your appearance is dapper from head to toe. This includes understanding, the importance of wearing good shoes.

When choosing your footwear, the following considerations must be made:

  [su_list icon=”icon: check-circle” icon_color=”#792331″]

Are they the right type, style and color?

Does it enhance my wardrobe?

Are they suitable for the respective occasion I am getting it for – from formal to informal?

[/su_list]

This shoe formality guide will school you on how choose the right pair of shoes based on the formality of the occasion you need it for. If you want to learn how to choose a dress code based on the formality scale of the occasion, check out the link below.

RELATED: Dress Code Formality Guide on Dressing Up or Dressing Down A Look

  Now, there are varieties of shoes based on style, color, and type which can really be a bit overwhelming, especially when it comes to knowing which is which and what shoes to wear with what get-ups.

So gents, let’s break it down as simply as possible. Below is a hierarchy of the common dress shoe styles, ranked based on type, color, and style with tips on how to pair them appropriately. Enjoy!

  SHOE FORMALITY GUIDE: BY SHOE TYPES

Most Formal

Pump → Oxford → Derby → Monkstrap → Chelsea → Boot → Brogue

Semi-Formal

Venetian Loafer →  Penny Loafer → Belgian Loafer → The Horse Bit or Gucci Loafer → Tassel Loafer → Chukka Boot

Casual

Driving Shoe → Boat Shoe → Desert Boot → Motorcycle Boot → Espadrille Sneaker → Sneakers

    MEN’S SHOE FORMALITY GUIDE: BY COLOR

If you are curious about how to pair shoe colors with the right outfits, here’s a comprehensive guide to help you. You’re invited to take a look!

Most Formal

      Black Shoes are the most formal shoe color. They are the only classic option for Tuxedos and commonly worn with business suits.

Semi-Formal

Dark Brown is less formal than black shoes and they pair with everything black shoe pair with, except black. They can be worn in any season as they are quite versatile. 

Cordovan refers to a brownish burgundy shoe color. They pair with whatever dark brown shoe pair with but are less formal due to their lighter shade.

Navy Blue is rare as a shoe color but is relatively dressy due to its dark shade. In a dress shoe situation, navy blue shoe pairs well with navy and grey trousers. Don’t forget to wear an exact shade of navy blue belt.

Charcoal Grey is another rare shoe color, they are also less formal as navy and pair with the same color trousers – navy and grey trousers.

Casual

Medium Brown is informal due to the lightness of the color. They are extremely versatile and pair with just about any trouser you can think of. While they can be worn to work in many offices, you should opt for a darker shoe if going to a job interview or funeral.

Tan shoes are casual and should only be worn on warmer days. They pair beautifully with medium blue and light grey suits, great options for warm weather weddings.

White shoes are worn in the most casual of situations. It’s also helpful to wear them once in a while, as white shoes get dirty very easily and require particular steps to clean.

  Non-standard colors (red, green, purple, etc.) other shoe colors like red, purple, green, or orange are the least formal available on the market. Essentially novelty colors, these are great for casual wear with denim and chinos. If you’re wearing a suit just for fun (not for business), a dress shoe in one of these colors can really take your ensemble into the stratosphere, stylistically speaking

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MEN’S SHOE FORMALITY GUIDE: BY STYLE

Wholecut or Plain

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Wholecut Oxford Shoe

Plain Derby Shoe

These are Oxfords or Derbies that are either completely void of extra stitching, perforations, and other design elements, or darn near close. You should already know the difference between an oxford and a derby with their different lacing styles. 

A whole cut is a shoe with an upper that is cut and fashioned from one single piece of leather. As a general rule of style, the less detail a shoe has, the more formal it is.

For Oxford, you can wear Tuxedos/Evening wear. For both dress shoes, you can also pair with suits such as; blazer or sports coat, well-fitting cotton dress pants, a dress shirt, and tie.

  Cap-Toe

Just to remind you, unlike oxfords, Derbies have open lacing which makes them a little less sleek, and therefore, less dressy. Meanwhile, a simple cap Oxford or Derby has a line or two of stitching that accentuates the front of the shoe, giving the toe a bit of a capped look. These are the most simple, sleek dress shoes.

You can wear them with Suits made of more casual fabrics like tweed, linen, or cotton; wool trousers; cotton trousers and jeans.

  Semi-Brogue

They have lots of holes and decorations, the holes used to help the muck and water drain out since they were originally used by those walking through marshy fields. Today, they’re considered one of the dressiest shoes in fashion, what a turn of events right?

Semi-brogue shoes have a cap-toe with perforations, layered leathers, serrated edges, and usually a lot of perforations adorning the toe. They are quite sleek regardless of the busyness of the design which makes them less serious and more flashy.

Wear them with wool or cotton trousers or dark blue jeans. I’d advise against wearing them with a business/office suit because of their flashy designs, business casual would be a better fit.

  Wingtip/Longwing

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Wingtip Oxford Shoes

Longwing Derby Shoes

This style has a classic decorative “M” shape at the cap toe that extends about halfway back to the heel. Oxford-style lacing makes it much easier to dress up than the open-laced style.

As for the long wing, it has a wingtip that doesn’t terminate midway down the side of the shoe but instead wraps all the way to the back of the heel. They’re very versatile, the longer wing has an almost sporty, racing-stripe feel to it.

You can wear the wingtip with suits, business casual with dark wash denim and sports coat, they are perfect for weddings and office wear. For the longwing, smart casual wear of all kinds and you’re good to go.

  Suede

Suede – from the French “gants de Suède”, which literally means “gloves from Sweden” is a type of leather with a napped finish commonly used to make shoes and other clothing items. They are less casual than plain leather styles.

They can mostly be worn with cords, chinos, and jeans as they are highly versatile with business casual and smart casual wear. 

Velvet

Velvet is a type of woven tufted fabric with a distinctive soft feel. The word velvety means “smooth like velvet,” it can be made from either synthetic or natural fibers. You will mostly find them in loafers and other clothing items.

  Final Thought

Now that we’ve crossed the Ts and dotted the Is, you can see the different shoe styles and types and how they are classified as formal and less formal. With this men’s shoe formality guide, you now know the right shoes to wear with the right outfits and to the right occasion.

We hope you found this guide helpful. If you have other questions on this topic, please let us know.

Thanks for reading. Until next time, continue to do well, live well, and dress really well. Stay Classy.

Yours in Style,

Kobi O. Mbagwu (Mr. Kobi) Founder, KOBI KOACHMAN Connect with me

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Men’s Shoe Formality Guide: Most Formal Vs Least Formal Men's Shoe Formality Guide and Scale : How Shoes Rank From Formal To Informal From dress shoes cut from plain leather to shoes cut with intricate designs to non-dress shoes, there are many options to choose from when it comes to men's shoes.

[roamingmom]

We made it! We survived Easter in quarantine.

Last Easter, I was shamelessly stalking Geishas in Kyoto, Japan and eating my weight in sushi. This year, I celebrated the on-time arrival of Easter chocolate via Amazon.

You couldn’t have convinced me a year ago that 1/2 the world would be in isolation. Yet, here we are.

The first Covid-19 case was reported to the World Heath Organization 104 days ago. Spain has been in lockdown for over a month. The Holy Week (Semana Santa), the biggest religious celebration of the year was cancelled. For a country full of Catholics – that is a big deal.

Outdoor sports are still banned.

I crave unrestricted walks, and my regular tennis and padel games.

I miss restaurants, the buzz of people, and copas (wine) with friends.

Yet, I am not unhappy.

My tribe is making me proud. They have rolled with this whole debacle without complaint.  They remind me of how adaptable humans can be.

Although civilization has been forced into this surreal sheltered slumber – we must find ways to beat the monotony and overcome the darkness that wants to creep into our days.

As Queen Elizabeth II eloquently stated in her recent address:

As dark as death can be, particularly for those suffering with grief, light and life are greater.

On that note – here are my current ideas on what to watch, read, and do through quarantine.

Concerts

If you missed Andrea Bocelli live from the Duomo di Milano yesterday – you should have a watch. It was a bit of magical living history.

Lady Gaga has organised a benefit concert for April 18th. The event will be hosted by: Jimmy Kimmel, Jimmy Fallon, and Stephen Colbert. Performers include: Alanis Morissette, Chris Martin, Eddie Veder, Elton John, Paul McCartney & Stevie Wonder. That is a lineup that promises amazing things.

Funny

Laughter is good soul medicine.

These classic SNL ads are guaranteed to crack you up:

Nike Women’s Ad – SNL

Levis Wokes – SNL

While diving down the SNL video rabbit hole, I found the The Longest Days of Our Lives – Corona comedy gold by Jimmy Fallon, Kristen Wig, and Will Ferrell, performed all on Zoom.

The Tonight Show is running @home editions. A recent episode with Tina Fey and the awesome José Andrés, the legendary Chef behind WCK (World Central Kitchen), and all their kids is worth the watch.

Also, who knew Rita Wilson, aka Mrs. Tom Hanks, is really funny? Watch her rock out to – Hip Hop Hurray  while recovering from Covid-19 in Australia.

TV Series

As previously mentioned in other posts – I’m not much of a TV gal but I’m currently addicted to: Outlander, and The Handmaids Tale (THT)

Almost regrettably, I forayed into The Tiger King

Jeezus. It’s a serious delve into batshit crazy.

When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro.

Hunter S. Thompson

That basically sums up the Tiger King. Not sure if I recommend it – it’s a total train wreck of feral craziness.

Reading

In Surviving Quarantine – Part 3, I shared my obsession with the romance genre. But as a reader, I read everything.

Over the last few years, I’ve found my way to poetry. Not the traditional T.S. Elliot brand or the mind numbing verses that were forced upon us in school.  Modern poetry has a sexy edge to it these days.

Spoken Word poet – Hollie McNish – is a lyrical master. You may have seen one of her explosive tirades online.

  Atticus is a 20-something Canadian masked mystery. His prose on the messiness of life and love make me swoon. I keep two of his books on my beside table.

I worry there is something broken in our generation, there are too many sad eyes on happy faces.

Atticus

Hannah Sullivan’s new book – Three Poems – is crafted with deep thoughts and clever phrasing on birth, love, and death.

Other News

The world can expect a ¨coronial¨ panda by the end of 2020 after two pandas (Ying Ying & Li Li) mated at a Hong Kong zoo.

  https://www.bbc.com/news/

  In Pennsylvania, lockdown made this 93 year-old woman rather thirsty. The old gal held up a sign for her neighbours with a plea for more beer.

Source: Huff post

Coors Light obliged, and dropped her 150 cans to see her through the coming weeks.

  Not everyone believes there will be a baby boom at the end of quarantine. The Corona virus has ramped up sex toy sales by 40% in some countries.

Photo source: https://www.twenty20.com/photos

  Virtual Happy Hours

I’m missing copas with friends but loving virtual happy hours on FaceTime, Zoom and WhatsAPP. Quarantine has been a great opportunity to connect with people.

Virtual happy hours can extend to book club meetings, or just an excuse to pour a glass of wine and catch up with a friend or family member. Oh, and drink your good wine! There’s really no good reason not to.

Epicurious takes these 6 classic cocktails up a notch.

Quarantine offers up a good excuse to dust off the unused bottles in your liquor cabinet. If not now, when?

Cooking

What’s everyone making? People seem obsessed with baking. Not me. Although, I’m slightly tempted to jump on the bread making bandwagon that everyone is on.

Baking aside, I am cooking a lot. Frankly, I’m a bit over it.

But not complaining. I’m grateful for fresh ingredients that allow me to prepare healthy food for my brood. That is a luxury never to be taken for granted. Especially when so many people are going without right now.

So, if you have anything to spare, consider a donation to a local food bank or to World Central Kitchen.

Recipes

Creamy Lemon Pasta

Pork Chops in Creamy White Wine Sauce.

Pork Fried Rice (great option to reuse the extra chops from above).

Virtual Travel

The internet allows you to travel from the comfort of your favourite screen.

See cherry blossoms in bloom as you virtually tour Japan, or watch a feed of an empty Shibuya Crossing.

Virtually hike the Great Wall of China or catch the Northern Lights.

Whatever you want to see, and wherever you care to go. There are great sites to take you there.

World Heritage Sites

National Parks

The Future

It’s looking like the Corona virus will be with us for awhile.

I’m pretty sure that my boys will not see the inside of a classroom until September.

Still we’re making optimistic plans for the summer, but being cautious in our expectations.

I do know – whatever the next few weeks or months throws at us – we will adapt and manage. We all will.

In the meantime – Stay well and be kind to yourself.

Love,

Kate

                    Surviving Quarantine – Part 4 We made it! We survived Easter in quarantine. Last Easter, I was shamelessly stalking Geishas in Kyoto, Japan and eating my weight in sushi.

[tulsatrot]

Does Rudolph have a sixth sense? Does GPS guide Santa’s sleigh? How do all those Christmas presents make their way around so quickly and accurately? Does he know we’re here in Spain? These were some of the kid’s questions for a Christmas in Spain.

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Faster than Rudolph

A rental car and a hotel stay always provide the impression that you can drive a little faster and leave your room a bit messier.

As Assumpta dropped me off at Valencia’s Manises Airport National Rent-A-Car counter, the big ol’ family van I had reserved wasn’t available. Instead, a 7 seater Peugeot SUV was the healthy steed carrying us across southern Spain. The difference is that this bronco glistened with a touch screen, keyless entry, and some major horsepower, an upgrade over my Qatari Chrysler Captiva. As quickly as I provided Raoul with a credit card, refused additional car insurance, because, hey, I’ve been driving in Qatar for three months, and figured out how to unlock the digital parking brake (insert manual car joke here), I was out on the neatly manicured streets of Valencia. As long as I didn’t break the speed limit with random digital cameras attached to the underside of bridges.

Half way to Granada, Nadine programmed the super delicious Lonely Planet recommended restaurant in Murcia in our Peugeot GPS. It swiftly guided us to Murcia’s industrial area and the front door of a metal parts manufacturer.

This industrial area detour didn’t get any closer to feeding four hungry kids. Thank you globalization and McDonalds, an authentic Spanish meal. This wouldn’t be our only visit.

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Alcazaba Protecting Granada

Tiny Spots

Framed by snowy mountains (Yes, in Southern Spain), Granada started coming into view. Wide open sky. Downtown Granada roads on the other hand, thin as Girl Scout mint cookies. European roads were built wide enough to accommodate horse and buggies, not French Peugeot SUVs. So each time the almighty, all knowing GPS told me to turn, I thought “Really? Those must have been skinny Spanish horses back in the time of Don Quijote.” Streets looked more like sidewalks disguised as dark alleys. We circled and circled our AirBNB. By the fourth flyby, I pulled into the one empty parking spot by a pharmacy six blocks away. Like the three wisemen with a bulkier load of suitcases, we guided through merrymaking 20 somethings celebrating the holidays with the same gusto that they got dressed in those skin tight black plants with matching black shirts and slicked hair. And those were the guys. “Kids, avert your eyes and let’s admire this pee stained wall opposite those bars. Merry Christmas kids!”

With the family safely inside, I returned to the Peugeot and found the closest parking garage. Like the streets outside, this underground parking resembled the same tights spaces of a Japanese one bedroom apartment. Each right turn further down into the belly of the parking garage required several reversals, hard turns on the wheel, inching forward, just to turn right in the parking garage. That was one of many right turns.

Once I had found a spot and squeezed that trusty Peugeot in a parking spot, pinned in safely by a green pillar that revealed the scars of many failed parking attempts. Just inches away on the opposite side of the pillar and behind me were two other cards. I vowed not to remove the car until our next stop, Güéjar Sierra.

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Dom Entering the Keyhole to Alcazaba

Not a Normal Christmas in Spain

Travel is in my blood except two times of the year, Thanksgiving and Christmas. I prefer to be with family. When we lived in the Cayman Islands, it was an easy flight or two away. Not halfway around the world, roundtrip flights and jet lag would crush us. So this Christmas, our closekinit family of six found ourselves in Granada, Spain.

Climbing Granada Neighborhoods with a New Haircut

We made our time together special, and hopefully memorable for the kids. Along Paseo del Salón, they tramped across a winter obstacle course in the chilly weather. We thoroughly explored Alhambra until hunger intervened. Each kid randomly led us around downtown Granada. Castellana provided delicious substance. Game nights filled evenings. Santa found our family in Europe and left presents in front of the kid’s stockings. We attended Christmas morning Mass at Catedral de Granada. If the Karl Marx quote (“La religión es el opio del pueblo”) spray painted on the outside walls are true, Spain was practically drug free.

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The Alcazaba in Alhambra

The Red One

Imagine a Roman fortification sitting peacefully at the foot of Sierra Nevada mountains. Build a terrace or two here, a fortified wall there. Now imagine that same fortress serving as a palace under control of the Moors. Add a garden along with symmetrical geometrical designs on the gardens. Mix in a bloody conflict with the Catholic Church and taking ownership back for the Catholic kings in Spain. Allow for a century of disrepair soon followed with restorations, and that is the 21st century Alhambra. That world famous and much photographed UNESCO World Heritage Site.

On Christmas Eve, Dom, Momo, and I set out on a reconnaissance mission, buy Alhambra tickets. Along the way, a clientless barber warmly welcomed us in, and since Dom is opposed to haircuts, a surprise haircut randomly off of the street was the best type.

Climbing up the hill to the entrance, Momo’s three year old energy faded and the prospect of walking another step resulted in tears of exasperation. Once my shoulders requested a brief reprieve of walking uphill (“She ain’t heavy, she’s my daughter!”) with Momo on my shoulders. A meeting of the minds decided to turn around. We would conquer this site later in the day. Bribing Momo with donuts, a classical yet weak parent move, convinced her she had enough energy to walk downhill back to our place.

Later that afternoon, a taxi completed the track to Alhambra’s entrance. Tickets to the revered Alhambra palace were sold out . . . months ago. Generalife (sounds like the name of a company from an informercial) and the gardens provided ample opportunity to gain the essence of Alhambra. Plus, four hungry kids, and just maybe, excitement for Santa Claus, denied further explorations.

Merry Christmas from Spain

Next Stop: Skiing the snowy Sierra Nevada mountains

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Alcazaba Protecting Granada

United Family Christmas

Did You Say Donuts Dad?

Beauty and the Beast

Legit Snowpower

You Had Me at Donut

Say What?

Dom Entering the Keyhole to Alcazaba

Ready for a Christmas Adventure

Here Comes Santa’s Sleigh

Peeking Out of Alcazaba

Christmas Eve Adventure

Patio de la Sultana

Climbing Granada Neighborhoods with a New Haircut

Sierra Nevada Mountains Circling Granada

Alhambra

Sophie at Generalife

The Alcazaba in Alhambra

Family Christmas Eve

Waiting for Santa

This is a Serious Family Photo

Generalife – The Gardens of Alhambra

It May Not Be Real Snow and Toboggan

Sierra Nevada Mountains Circling Granada

Looking for Alhambra Part 1

“Ever wonder what people got Jesus for Christmas? It’s like, “Oh great, socks. You know I’m dying for your sins right? Yeah, but thanks for the socks! They’ll go great with my sandals. What am I, German?” – Jim Gaffigan

Navigating Tight Spots at Christmas Does Rudolph have a sixth sense? Does GPS guide Santa's sleigh? How do all those Christmas presents make their way around so quickly and accurately?