#and briefly talking about going into a phd afterwards

[greencloakedfae]

Feeling hopeful :]

[variousqueerthings]

something about the fluid shifting of queerness as situational

i haven't spent much time in my life in wholly lesbian spaces -- my wondering if I was a lesbian took about 2 seconds and a socially anxious bartrip in which nobody talked to me and landed on bisexual-but-not-doing-anything-either-way (which then, shockingly, veered straight into asexual the second i knew anything about the term)

lotta transmasc people I know were lesbians first, but when i hang out with them we tend to bond more on the masc and the trans of it all, we're bois/boys/dandies/etc. (which are also terms you of course hear in lesbian spaces)

I went to an event the other day a city over, which was centred around a writing tutor of mine who got top surgery in their 50s, a dyke, nb, butch, naturally the crowd was - i wanna say - probably 90% lesbians and sapphics (some trans in a multitude of ways, some cis)

we all went for drinks afterwards and i was swept into the glorious heady mix of them all, i was dressed in a shirt and floral tie and at one point one of my new friends commented on it, saying how cool it was to see the queer deconstruction of masculinity in a subtly floral tie, and i spoke for awhile with a few dykes in their 50s, a wonderful older butch hugged me and said how lovely it had been to meet me, a femme told me about her phd work, and i was feeling butch and great about it (limp wrist and all)

and in that moment i realised how i would have existed in this exact space a lot more if i'd been coming out in the 90s, or coming out differently than i did. i wasn't going into the nuances of my sexuality-and-gender (none of us were of course), except for briefly with my writing tutor who already knew and we discussed a bit about asexuality and kink and the artistic exploration thereof, and a lovely finnish nb person who's doing cool work documenting experiences in finland, so for all intents and purposes i leaned into the parts of myself that are lesbian in a way ive never really been able to before

was feeling oh this is what it feels like to desire the company of women and lesbians and bi sapphics in this particular dyke-community way and i wasn't just included in the space, i belonged there, it was my space with them, we were sharing our commonalities and stories with one another, we were celebrating this occasion that we understood the weight of, because of our shared histories. when i think about my writing tutor and the language around the art that was created for that event, there was no translation needed because it was for our community

it was pretty special all around, i feel lucky as all hell that this is my life now, these are the spaces that want me and welcome me

[drlavenderpepper]

let's gooooo i'll have a research project for the summer

[lizisshortforlizard]

You know what, for that people in an ocs life, all of them. For Lizzy of course.

Alright here we go! 🦖🦕🦖

🌻 - Her father.

Lizzy loves her dad. So much. But he never came back to see her again after her 15th birthday, exact reason unknown. When she was born he always wanted to legally call her Lizzy, instead of Elizabeth, but was vetoed by both the doctor and her mother. This is why she’s so insistent about people getting her name right, it’s pretty much all she has left of him.

🌷 - Her mother

Lizzy’s mum and her dad were never married. She’s an alcoholic and for someone with a lot of kids, isn’t maternal at all. She only calls adult Lizzy once in a blue moon to ask for money, especially after finding out she wound up engaged to a New York lawyer.

🌟 - A different family member

Not a biological one, but the person Lizzy considers a father figure in the absence of her own. Dr Jeff Blacklaw, who wound up being her mentor when she started her PhD in Africa. He showed her the ropes of how to survive in the back of beyond and became her favourite person in the whole world.

🐶 - A pet

Lizzy never had a pet growing up (too poor) but she’d leave out food scraps for the cats around her building. Once she’s back in Kenya after Isla Nublar I imagine her having a couple of dogs, (one big lump, one greyhound type and one ankle-biter) but they aren’t really pets, they’re working/guard dogs. The concept of pets is a bit foreign to her.

👊 - A best friend

Kathy Baker. Kathy is from Minnesota, and before coming to Isla Nublar to work for Hammond was employed at the Smithsonian Zoo. Kathy specialises in big cats (particularly jaguars) and always carries a tub of Vaporub in her pocket. She’s easy-going and gives the best hugs, she’s pretty much the mom-friend though she’s one of the youngest out of the group of animal handlers.

👋 - A friend

Ellie Sattler. Though they don’t meet until closer to the end of the story, Ellie and Lizzy wind up leaning on each other quite a bit in post-island recovery. They’ve been through some stuff. They stay in touch afterwards, Ellie visits Africa and Lizzy makes the odd trip to Montana.

🔍 - An acquaintance

Sarah Harding. Lizzy and Sarah have somewhat of a history. Africa ain’t big enough for the both of them. Lizzy studies herbivores, Sarah studies carnivores, and they quite often disagree. Each of them are as stubborn as each other.

🍼 - A child (Theirs or Not)

Not hers. But Muldoon’s daughter may as well be. Lizzy never wanted biological kids (she’s too afraid she’ll turn into her own mother). But she loves them and briefly looking after Lex and Tim reminds her of that. Kids tend to think she’s pretty cool, and they work out pretty quickly all they have to do is remember to say please and Lizzy won’t be able to say no to whatever they want to do. She’s not a shouty (step) parent.

🎭 - A Former Friend

Ray Arnold! Unfortunately we all know why Ray is in the “former��� friend category…I’m going with both the book and film canon I’m afraid. Ray is very much Lizzy’s voice of reason, and he’s the one she goes to when she needs a good bitching session. And whenever she wants to find anything out. He’s a gossip, and he’s the eyes and ears of the park, so of course he knows everything about everyone.

👿 - An Enemy

Tom Kennedy. Lizzy’s main aggravator during the first few months on Isla Nublar. He winds her up and watches her go. Part of the reason they don’t get on is because they’re actually very similar, too similar. But Tom’s more prone to showing off than she is, and that’s saying something.

📪 - A Neighbour

Gerry Harding (they are neighbours, right? They live on the same island, actually I just wanted to talk about him). Unlike his daughter, Lizzy and Gerry get on famously. They both know they can rely on the other, and Lizzy is trying to elbow her way in to help him write his dinosaur healthcare textbook.

💘 - A Love Interest

Robert Muldoon. Oh man, I don’t really know what to say other than 1. It’s too bloody obvious to EVERYONE that they are meant to get together except for them which leads me to 2. Lizzy’s an idiot and doesn’t put 2 and 2 together for a whole ass epoch and then eventually realises oh. Sometimes you need a chronic case of prehistoric cage-breakers to realise its time you finally made a move.

👻 - Someone they don’t see often

Her fiancé, Simon Kaufmann. They met at university in New York, and they’ve been together for yeeeaaars. She loves him, of course she does, but living on different continents most of the time can be really difficult. It’s hard to resolve arguments over the phone, and they’ve both grown up since they started seeing each other, one thing they can agree on is they maybe don’t want the same things in life after all.

💀 - Someone deceased

Ed Regis. Him and Lizzy have a somewhat tumultuous relationship. They’re both extroverts but otherwise have nothing in common. One of Lizzy’s regrets from Isla Nublar is that the last words she said to him weren’t the kindest, but hey, she didn’t know that the rex was about to eat him!

☀️ - Someone who can “Turn Lemons into Lemonade”

Okay, I’m not 100% sure what this means but I’m going to interpret it as someone who is an optimist or always puts a positive spin on a bad situation?

Who else other than John Hammond? There’s a reason that man is so successful. He dismisses every problem and doesn’t listen to the experts he hired to run his park. And when things go wrong its their fault.

☔️ - Someone who can “Turn Lemonade into Lemons”

Conversely, I assume this means someone who is a pessimist (Muldoon? Can’t, I already picked him). I’m going to go with Donald Gennaro. He has to be the one to talk Hammond down when he’s being unreasonable. Him and Lizzy have some common ground because of her fiancé Simon. He can give her a telling off, and vice versa, but then they’ll be cool and have a beer together after work is done for the day. For a “blood-sucking lawyer”, he’s actually okay.

🍀 - Someone Lucky

Nedry. For the sole reason that the dilophosaur found him first.

🍰 - Someone who loves food

Can I put Lizzy herself for this one? She’s definitely a strong contender (if not then also her friend/fellow animal handler Isaac Harris). Partly because of never really having enough food when she was growing up. The first time she tried a New York slice it blew her mind. She loves strong flavours and doesn’t really turn her nose up at much. Except liquorice. Bleh.

🍜 - Someone who’s a great cook

María! Hammond’s Haitian maid/secretary/PA? Ginger ice cream? Um, yes please! María also makes ginger cake (for your birthday, if she likes you) and another speciality of hers is empanadas

[captainhandsome45]

Looking for an RP partner for an 18+ Stony roleplay!

So picture this: the year is 1991, Tony is 21 and has just lost his parents to a car crash mere days before Christmas. He was in the midst of finishing his last PhD, but now he's suddenly been thrown into the responsibility of not only needing to bury his folks, but also needing take care of the looming giant that is Stark Industries.

The start of this RP would take place during/right after the funeral, where Tony's clung to Steve for comfort as the man is (sort of, but not really) an unofficial godfather, but he’s really more akin to a family friend than anything else. Looking for a slow to moderate burn of Steve taking care of a grieving Tony and encouraging him when he gets around to finishing school and manning SI, and falling for one another in the process. The starter is below the cut, please feel free to PM me if you have any questions about it, are interested, or are interested and want to switch up the starter a little bit!

Looking for 18+ people who can respond with well written, longer responses (a paragraph or more) that are in the third person, aka Steve’s POV. Hoping to continue on Discord, and as a side note— I do write in present tense!

Please PM me or interact with this post and I’ll message you! ♡

[Noncanonical AU, Young Adult Tony (21), the year is 1991; Stony is the endgoal. TW: talks of death and funerals. | After the incredibly sudden and brutal death of both his parents, Steve offers for Tony to stay with him while he grieves and hopes to eventually get back on his feet, as Obadiah runs the company for now. Steve’s sort of an unofficial godfather, but he’s really more akin to a family friend than anything else.

Steve had been in the ice for twenty five years before scientists found him again, and he and Peggy had married— marriage simply hadn’t been on her mind until he returned. However, they've since divorced, having fallen out of love, and Steve's been burying himself in his work since. He's lonely, up until Tony loses his parents and Steve invites him to stay at his house for as long as he needs to. Steve is 48 years old, not including the years in the ice. Please lmk if you have any questions!]

Tony's held it together for much longer than anyone else had anticipated. During the call from the police at four in the morning that sent him into shock during his study session with Rhodey, and on the silent drive home when Jarvis picked him up from Cambridge. He kept it together for the following two days afterward that it took him and Jarvis to painstakingly pick out his parents' coffins and gravesites that Howard hadn't done himself, because his father had evidently assumed that he would live much longer than seventy-four years.

Astoundingly enough, he even had a stone face during the service. Every word from the priest was like a punch to the gut, every glance to the two beautifully decorated coffins and his own eulogy to the hundred-something people in the room had made him nauseous. And regardless of the fact that he hasn't seen Steve in almost two years, Tony had stuck to him for the entirety of the viewing, the service, and the burial, becoming more and more high strung with every flower and bouquet tossed onto the surface of his parents' final resting place.

After all was said and done, Tony is tightly arm in arm with Steve: familiar and strong and warm in the drizzling winter rain. Peggy, Jarvis, and Ana lead them toward the awaiting two blacked-out Bentleys that'll take them wherever they need to go. He and Steve take the second one alone, having briefly discussed Tony staying with him before the service began, but he isn't sure of its certitude yet. Tony doesn't realize he's shaking and shivering until the driver closes the car door behind them, and it's like something shatters in him-- heavy breaths turning shaky before he lets out a whimper and shoves his face into the crook of Steve's arm as the sobs violently wrack his body, his grip on the other man vice-like.

[I also have another, more self-indulgent and *spicy* version that involves Steve and Peggy still being married but being currently unhappy with their relationship. Let me know if you're interested or want to talk more to see if we'd be a good fit! Thanks!]

[pikapeppa]

Felassan & Abelas modern AU: Patience

Chapter 5 of Inadvisable (professor Solas AU) is posted! 

Today’s chapter: Felassan and Abelas POV. Because I am trash for the Ancient Boyband™ chatting with each other. 

~3600 words; read on AO3 instead.

**************************

- FELASSAN -

Felassan hummed to himself as he wandered along the sun-drenched street. The street was particularly busy today; the noontime traffic was amplified by students on foot and on their bikes making their way to their first day of classes.

Felassan didn’t mind the bustle. It would calm down in a couple of weeks anyway when people started skipping class. He slipped his sunglasses onto his nose and pulled his phone out of his pocket, then opened Instagram and checked his PMs.

No answer from her yet. That was fine; he was fairly sure it was just a matter of time. 

He tapped on Tamaris’s Instagram once more and studied her photos for a moment. It hadn’t been hard to find her; her profile was public since she used it to advertise her work. This was how he had discovered that she was a traditional stick-and-poke tattoo artist – information that he hadn’t had a chance to get directly from her last night, seeing as they’d been otherwise... occupied. 

He smirked as he remembered the way he and Tamaris had been occupied – how she had occupied him, to be specific, since she was the one who had initiated that incredible kiss. He was being honest when he’d told her he didn’t usually kiss people that he’d only just met; he considered himself a shameless observer of people and their patterns, which meant he usually preferred to keep to the fringes of social events rather than getting directly involved. But last night when he’d spotted Tamaris from across the room, standing by herself and watching the people in the bar the way he usually did…

It was the look on her face. The complex mixture of skepticism and hope and wariness as she watched the people around her, like she was jaded but wished sometimes that she wasn’t. 

It was a look he’d once grown used to seeing in the mirror, especially in the last couple years of his PhD. It was part of the reason he’d largely pulled out of academia as soon as his PhD was done. And it was that look that compelled him to cross the room and talk to Tamaris when he normally wouldn’t bother. 

And talking to her had been entirely worth the bother. She was so hilariously blunt. Suspicion hung heavily from her every word, like thick drops of honey trickling from a spoon, and her skepticism only made her rare smiles all the sweeter. 

Not as sweet as that kiss, though. Actually, no: ‘sweet’ wasn’t the right word for the way Tamaris had kissed him. That kiss had been pure shameless lust, torrid and wanton and totally delicious, and it had taken every scrap of Felassan’s self-control to step away from her.

But he had to step away from her. He couldn’t give in and take her home like his body was screaming to do. Somehow he just knew that if he had sex with her right away, she wouldn’t want anything to do with him afterwards, even though sex was clearly what she’d wanted. 

And now that Felassan had had a taste of Tamaris’s skepticism and her smiles, her suspicion and the scorching sweetness of her lips, he didn’t want to give her up.

So he broke the kiss. He stepped away from her and went home and jacked off instead. And first thing this morning while he was drinking his coffee, he’d started searching for ways to contact her. 

Finding her Instagram had taken less than two minutes. Sending her a PM took barely a second. 

felassan 08:13AM Deep mushroom sometime?

Now to wait until she replied. And he had a good feeling that she would. He just had to be patient, and patience was something that Felassan was very good at.

He tucked his phone back in his pocket and continued on his slow and leisurely way. Some fifteen minutes or so later, he pushed open the door to the Ancient Elvhen Studies lab. 

He lifted a hand in greeting to Tamlen, who was working in the main room, then sauntered down the western hallway. When he reached the heavy oak door at the end of the hall, he knocked briefly, then let himself in without waiting for a response. 

Solas was sitting at his desk and studying something on his computer. He looked up with a frown, but his expression smoothed out when he met Felassan’s eye. 

“Felassan,” he said politely, and his gaze returned to the computer. “What brings you here?” 

“I have a little time to kill before my class at one,” Felassan said. He draped himself comfortably on Solas’s couch.

“Hm,” Solas murmured vaguely. “While you’re here, would you bring me the 2017 Ghil Dirthara compilation? It’s on the third shelf to the–”

“I know where it is,” Felassan said wryly. “I’m very familiar with your library.”

Solas nodded. When Felassan didn’t move, Solas glanced over and gave him a quizzical look.

He smirked. “I’m not your student anymore. You can fetch your own books.”

A tiny frown creased Solas’s brow. “You’re closer to the shelf.”

Felassan tucked his hands behind his head. “You could use the stretch, I’m sure.”

Solas sat back in his chair. “Then you can find somewhere else to wait until your class.”

Felassan tsked and rose to get the book. “Cruel. No wonder the students call you the Dread Wolf.”

Solas huffed and started typing on his computer. Felassan wandered over to the bookshelf and selected the Ghil Dirthara compilation, then placed it on Solas’s desk.

“Thank you,” Solas said. “In any case, you will have to find somewhere else to wait. My new Master’s student will be arriving shortly.”

Felassan raised his eyebrows. “And you still made me get that book for you? That’s rude.”

Solas smirked at him, and Felassan sighed as he flopped back down on the couch. “Where am I supposed to go, then?”

“Go to Abelas’s office,” Solas said.

Felassan laughed. “And invite his wrath on the first day of term? I might be a risktaker, but I’m not suicidal.”

Solas huffed in amusement. “I meant that you should ask him for an office space of your own to wait in.” 

Felassan wrinkled his nose. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Solas gave him a chiding look, and he sighed again and stood up. “All right, Dread Wolf, I’m leaving.”

“Don’t call me that,” Solas said without looking up from his screen.

Felassan chuckled and headed down the east hall to Abelas’s office instead. As he wandered down the hall, he pulled his phone out and checked it. 

Still no reply from Tamaris. He smirked and tucked the phone back in his pocket. She could take her time to reply if she wanted; Felassan was in no rush. 

The slow and patient path was often the one that paid off, after all.

- ABELAS -

Abelas tapped his pen on his desk as he reviewed the enrollment statistics for the new term. It was a good thirty seconds before he realized he hadn’t taken in any of the numbers he’d just read. 

He sighed and ran a frustrated hand over his braided hair. He knew the reason he was so distracted: it was the music. 

He could hear music emanating from Athera’s office next door. The sound of it was faint, just the occasional soft hint of a melody or the ‘drop’ during the dance music songs, but it was more noise than Abelas was used to hearing during his workdays, and it was terribly distracting.

He scowled at the wall that they shared. It was past noon now, and Abelas was fairly certain that the first thing she’d done upon arriving at the lab this morning was turn on her music. It had been playing constantly since then, and he genuinely didn’t understand how she was able to focus with music playing all the time. And such bright energetic music, to boot. Abelas liked to listen to instrumental music sometimes when he was reading, but dance music? Pop music with lyrics? It was ludicrous. 

And yet, her frivolous choice of music was fitting. He’d spent some time observing her this morning as she worked, and the first thing she’d done was launch right into talking to the other members of the lab as though they were her longtime friends. She’d gone into each grad student’s office to chat, and she’d spent considerable time talking and laughing with Dagna in the library and the artifacts room. She’d even disturbed Solas by knocking on his door after he’d returned from his morning lecture, and Abelas had heard them talking together animatedly down the hall. When Athera finally settled into her office, it was with her infernal music playing. 

After observing Athera’s work for the morning, Abelas had come to one conclusion: she wasn’t taking this job seriously. 

I will need to speak to Solas about this, he thought in disgruntlement. She isn’t fit for the position. Frankly, he wasn’t sure anyone was fit to take over any of the administrative duties of the lab, especially since the lab already ran smoothly under Abelas’s direct control. But Solas was insistent that he needed to delegate more, and it had taken a year for them to get the proposal for the research coordinator position pushed through…

Abelas sighed. He really ought to stop wishing that the research coordinator position didn’t exist. What’s done was done, and now he was stuck delegating to someone, whether he liked it or not. 

But maybe that someone didn’t need to be Athera. Especially since she was so inexperienced and flighty, with her friendly chatting and her irritatingly cheerful music and her carefree smile. 

Perhaps he could try and find someone else. In the meantime, he would tell her to turn her music down. Or maybe to turn it off altogether. 

He sighed, then went back to scanning his report. A minute later, however, someone knocked on the door. 

“Come in,” he called.

Athera poked her head in and offered him a cautious smile. “I had an idea I wanted to run past you. Do you have a minute?”

He nodded and gestured for her to approach his desk. It wasn’t like he’d gotten far with reading his report, anyway. “Tell me your idea.” 

She sidled into his office and closed the door behind her. “Do you know what a network-attached storage system is?”

He leaned back in his chair. “I’m unfamiliar with that term.”

Athera perked up. “Okay. It’s essentially like Google Drive – a server for storing files of whatever type you want. But you own the server, and the only people who have access to it are the ones that you give access to,” she explained. “You can access it from anywhere just like a Google Drive and you can basically do all the same things as Google Drive can do, but it’s private.”

Abelas narrowed his eyes. “I see. Why are you mentioning this?”

“I think you should invest in one for this lab,” she replied. 

He frowned. “We have secure storage through the university.”

“Yes, but only about 150 gigabytes, and that’s almost full now. And it’s not accessible from anywhere,” she said. “You can only access the university servers from a university computer. A NAS system — er, the network-attached storage–”

He cut her off impatiently. “You can call it a NAS.”

She nodded. “The NAS can be accessed from anywhere by anyone who has the password, so it’s way more convenient than the university servers.”

Abelas folded his arms. “We have to keep personal information about research participants on the university storage system for confidentiality reasons.”

She took a few eager steps closer to his desk. “I know, but I’m not talking about that information. I’m talking about everything else.” She widened her already-wide grey eyes. “Articles, projects that everyone is working on, drafts of documents, photos and footage from the Brecilian Forest, transcripts of interviews — wouldn’t you want to be able to access all of that easily?”

“We are already using Google Drive for that,” Abelas said with growing annoyance. 

“But Google Drive isn’t secure,” she argued. “It’s not controlled by you. And they make you pay through the nose for more storage space!”

Abelas scowled at her. Why was she being so stubborn about this? “The system we have now is working fine.”

“Just because it works doesn’t mean it can’t be improved on,” she retorted.

He pursed his lips, then finally shook his head. “I don’t like this idea.”

Athera folded her arms and lifted her chin. “Well, you’re the only one,” she said. “Everyone else in the lab thinks it’s a good idea.”

Abelas stared at her in shock, then slowly rose to his feet. “You already spoke of this to everyone else?”

She took a small step back from his desk. “I didn’t tell them we were doing it,” she said defensively. “I just… floated the idea to see if anyone had heard of a NAS before. Dagna was the only one who even knew it was a thing.”

Abelas regarded her angrily for a moment, then made his way around to the front of the desk. “Did you run this past Solas?” he asked.

“I did,” she said. “He likes the idea.”

Abelas pursed his lips and ran a hand over his braid. Athera took a few small steps closer to him. “With your permission, I’d like to start drafting a proposal to the department chair for your lab to get its own NAS. If we have the budget, that is,” she added quickly.

He eyed her in annoyance. First she had the gall to argue with him so stubbornly, and now she was looking up at him with so much childlike hope in her face? 

“Get me a quote for how much this will cost and I will consider it,” he said brusquely. 

She clapped her hands and did a little hop. “Great!”

He drew back slightly, surprised by her enthusiasm, and she sobered. “I mean, um.” She rubbed her nose awkwardly. “I’ll… I’ll get right on that.”

He nodded and waited for her to leave, but she was eyeing him now in a speculative way. He folded his arms. “Were you seeking approval for something else?” he said testily.

“Do you not like baked goods?” she said.

He blinked. He must have misheard. “Excuse me?”

She smiled crookedly and shifted from one foot to the other. “I just — I was told that you aren’t a fan of baked goods. Is it true?”

He stared at her in growing bemusement. “I’m… who told you that?”

Her smile widened. “A source who would prefer to remain confidential.”

He peered carefully at her. Was she mocking him? “Your source is incorrect: I do enjoy some baked goods. On special occasions,” he said suspiciously. “Why do you ask?”

She shrugged. “No reason. Just wondering.”

Abelas gave her a flat look, and she shifted from foot to foot again. “I bake sometimes. For fun.”

“I see,” he said slowly. Was there any particular reason she was telling him this?

She let out a nervous laugh and tucked a lock of hair over her ear, and not for the first time, Abelas’s attention was drawn to her chestnut-coloured hair. It was long and thick and shiny, like chocolate woven with hints of gold and spun into strands that spilled down to the middle of her back in lush waves, and not for the first time, he imagined what her hair would look like if it were twisted into the sorts of elaborate braids that were worn at formal events back home in Arlathan.

He scowled as the idle thought crossed his mind. Then there was a knock at the door. 

Before Abelas could call for the person at the door to enter, the door opened up, and Abelas pursed his lips with displeasure. Only one person was rude enough to enter his office without waiting for his permission.

Sure enough, Felassan stepped into the office. “Abelas, I’m just going to – ah, I’m interrupting.” He smiled at Athera. “You must be the new research coordinator.”

Abelas straightened and gestured at Athera. “Felassan, this is Athera,” he said formally. “She is indeed our new research coordinator. Athera, Felassan is a sessional lecturer for our program.” 

Felassan smirked. “And by that, he means that I teach the courses that Solas and Abelas didn’t want to teach.”

“That is not the reason you’re teaching those courses,” Abelas retorted. He was lying; it actually was the reason Felassan was teaching those courses, but it was unprofessional to admit that in front of Athera. 

Felassan shot him an irreverent smirk, but Athera spoke before Felassan could make one of his obnoxious clever remarks. “What courses do you teach?” she asked.

“This semester it’s 100-level drawing and a graduate-level art history seminar,” Felassan said.

Athera brightened. “Oh, my friend Nare might take your seminar! She’s starting her Master’s degree. She’ll be here to meet Solas soon, actually.”

“Excellent,” he said. “You can warn her that I’m a very strict instructor.”

Athera’s eyebrows rose. “Are you really?”

He shrugged and tucked his hands into his pockets. “Not at all. I give passing marks for showing up.”

Athera chuckled, but when Abelas shot Felassan a censorious look, she cleared her throat. “I’ll, um, get you that quote before I leave today,” she said to Abelas. “Probably in a few minutes, actually.”

“Thank you, Athera,” he said.

She edged toward the door. “You’re welcome, Abelas. Professor Abelas, sorry,” she said clumsily.

Abelas nodded. Felassan, meanwhile, was wandering into Abelas’s office despite not being formally invited in. He sat on the couch – again, without invitation – and smirked at Athera. “A word of advice: if Abelas gives you a hard time, just ask him about his research at the Well of Sorrows. That’ll cheer him up.”

Abelas glared at him, but Athera paused in the doorway with a smile. “That’s right, your area of focus was the Well of Sorrows!” she chirped. “It’s fascinating, isn’t it? I wrote my undergrad thesis about it.”

He scowled at her. It didn’t seem right that someone so irritating could have such a disarming smile. “I have published two books and several articles about it,” he said sharply.

Her smile faded slightly, and she bowed her head. “Then I’d be honoured to learn about it from you, hah’ren.”

Abelas paused, instantly deflated by her traditional manners —  and for the first time since he’d met her, he felt a bit ashamed for being so snappish. 

Feeling somewhat wrong-footed now, he gazed wordlessly at her serious face. Then Felassan snapped his fingers. “I know,” he said to Abelas. “You should teach her about the Vir’Abelasan over drinks.”

Athera’s clear grey eyes went wide. Mortified, Abelas turned and glared at his colleague. “Felassan,” he said warningly. 

Felassan raised his eyebrows. “What? It’s a simple suggestion.” He looked at Athera. “He could use the outing. He never goes out.”

Athera’s eyes darted to Abelas. “You don’t? How come?”

He scowled. Her cheeks turned red, and she let out a nervous little laugh. “Okay, a quote, I’ll get – um – I’ll see you later.” She scurried back into her own office and shut her door.  

Felassan gave Abelas a chiding look. “Well, that was hardly friendly.” 

“And that was hardly professional,” Abelas scolded. He closed his own office door and frowned at Felassan. “What are you doing here? Is there some specific reason you are here?”

“No,” Felassan said casually. He cocked his head. “I thought hiring a research coordinator was supposed to make you less stressed.”

“So did I,” Abelas snapped.

Felassan lifted one eyebrow. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not blaming her for your stress. It’s your own fault you’re stressed. You need to relax.”

Abelas gave him a resentful look as he returned to his desk. It was easy for Felassan to preach about relaxing; he’d given up on academia altogether aside from teaching. 

He sat bad-temperedly in his chair. “Remind me again what you are doing in my office.”

“Solas was busy. He has a meeting soon,” Felassan said. He took his phone out of his pocket and swiped around on the screen, then smiled.

“I am busy, as well,” Abelas said pointedly. 

“You’re always busy,” Felassan said, but he wasn’t looking at Abelas anymore; he was grinning and typing on his phone.

Abelas grunted and finally returned to his neglected report, but his eyes stared unseeingly at the numbers before him. He couldn’t stop thinking about Athera’s stubbornness.

For the five years that he and Solas had been running the Ancient Elvhen Studies program, no one had questioned his judgment. No one had criticized the way he chose to run this lab. And now, after a single day here, Athera was changing things — and not just with her suggestions about the damned NAS system. 

She was changing the ambience of the lab. She was chatting with everyone and playing her music and talking about baked goods for no particular reason. It almost felt like his sanctum was being despoiled, the gravity of his work being cheapened by laughter and levity and pop music. Athera had only been here for one day, and she was turning his lab from a serious place of study and work to a place of… fun.

He didn’t like it. He didn’t like her – the way she stood there looking up at him with her stubbornly jutting chin and her steely grey eyes, with those long lush ropes of chocolate-brown hair spilling down her back… 

He frowned and rubbed his forehead. He could still hear the very faint sound of her music through the wall. 

Perhaps he would start using earplugs. 

[detectivejigsawpines]

ORN-Part 9 (You can’t con a conman)

In case anyone’s interested, today is my birthday.  Also, I apologize if my portrayal of Bill does not live up to anyone’s expectations; I don’t have as much experience with writing his character, and frankly I feel dirty just getting in his head.

Should’ve known not to get my hopes up.

Stan had gotten stupid.  He’d been feeling happy for once, and forgotten his own advice: if something seems too good to be true, it probably is, especially if it’s random flying money that’s there for the taking.  Of course, he could use the excuse that he was dreaming, and so not exactly as clear-headed as usual, but to him it seemed like a pretty pitiful excuse.

And then the triangle showed up.

He was literally a talking, floating, one-eyed triangle.  With a top hat and a cane and a stupid little bow tie.

Stan briefly wondered if he was on something.

Except that Ford jumped, and let out a startled gasp; that made it more likely that this was real.

“Whoa, don’t have a heart attack, you’re not ninety-two yet!” the triangle said, circling Ford in a way that was the tiniest bit uncanny, in Stan’s opinion.  His one eye barely seemed to leave his face.

“Who-who are you?” Ford asked, eyes wide behind their glasses.

“Name’s Bill!”  He tipped his hat and tilted his body in a kind of bow.

Geez, how corny is this guy?

“And your name’s Stanford Pines, the man who changed the world, but I’m getting ahead of ourselves-hey!”

His little spiel was interrupted by a small flock of bills (the normal money kind) smashing into his hat and knocking it clean off.

Bill had to fumble to catch it, and then he took a moment to stare in bewilderment at the flying money as they did a loop in front of him.  Only then did he finally notice Stanley.

********

Maybe it was his imagination, but it seemed like the edges of the triangle became tinged with red for a second.  But he blinked and Bill was completely yellow and black, eye creased in what was probably supposed to be a wide, friendly-looking smile.

“Oh, where are my manners?” Bill asked nobody in particular.  He floated the ten feet that brought him right in front of Stan, and tipped his hat again.  “Stanley Pines, I wasn’t expecting to see you here too!  Great that you could join the party!”

Instantly the little red flag, first created in the cave by that little note under the painting, was hanging in the front of Stan’s brain surrounded by bright flashing lights.

Jerk alert.

He forced his mouth to curve upward in a smile-the kind he used on a crowd that could turn into an angry mob if he wasn’t careful.

“Howdy.”  His gaze traveled upwards.  “Nice hat.”

Bill patted the brim proudly.  “Oh, this old thing? Yeah, it’s my favorite, decided years ago that it’s just right for my image!”

Stan really, really hoped this weirdo couldn’t read minds.

Bill floated back to Ford, waving a hand.  A few seconds later both men were startled by two fancy armchairs appearing behind them and scooping them up; Stan’s zoomed over until he was right next to his brother.

“I gotta admit, this kind of disrupts my plans a little,” Bill said, creating a chair for himself.  “I was gonna have us get to know each other with a game of inter-dimensional chess, but that’s not exactly your game, is it, Stanley?”

“There’s a reason why it’s called a ‘bored’ game,” Stan deadpanned.

Ford huffed in annoyance.  “Well, maybe if you had actually taken the time to learn the strategies growing up you would have more fun playing it!”

“I have a million better things to do than let my life go by trying to figure out how to make some stupid wooden figures move!  Besides, it wasn’t any fun playing against someone who beat me every time and rubbed it in my face afterwards!”

“I didn’t do that!”  Ford’s cheeks flushed.  Then, more hesitantly, “...Did I?”

“Yeah, ya did.  Up until we were twelve and I swore off board games forever.”

“SO,” Bill interrupted, “I was thinking, how about we play something more to your speed?”  A deck of playing cards and a few stacks of poker chips materialized in front of them, accompanied by three bottles of cheap-looking beer.

It was tempting; really tempting.  Just unwind a little, get to know this stranger by finding out how good he was at bluffing (he was pretty sure the game would end up between just the two of them; he’d always been able to play Ford for a sap).

And yet...something made Stan say, “I’ll pass, thanks.”

It happened again: the edges of the triangle took on a brief red glow.  But then he shrugged, and laughed dismissively.

“Sure, sure, I get it!  You’re feeling all business today!”

The items disappeared as soon as they’d come, and Bill leaned back, folding his arms behind his...head?  The spot behind his eye.

****

“So, I bet you’re both wondering why you’re here.  And I’m not talking in the philosophical sense.”

“You...you said something about me changing the world?” Ford asked, tilting his head; his eyes had brightened the way they did every time a teacher praised him for figuring out an answer nobody else in class had.

“Riiiiight, yes!”  Bill waved a hand. “Long story short, I’m what I guess you could call a muse.  Once every hundred years I pick the most brilliant mind on earth, and offer to inspire them in their life’s work.  And this century, Stanford, you are the lucky guy!”

Ford’s jaw dropped.  After a few seconds he managed to stammer out, “M-me?  You think I’m-”

“Oh, come on, don’t be so modest!  You think anyone else in the world has as many PhDs as you do?”  Bill leaped out of his chair and glided over, stretching one of his tiny arms and wrapping it around Ford’s shoulder.  “Not to mention nobody seems to have ever noticed how freaky this little town is, let alone bothered to study it in any kinda detail, before you showed up!  Someone as observant and talented as you deserves to be recognized for it!”

Ford was looking a bit overwhelmed by so much praise at once, but at the same time he was starting to grin like an idiot.

“So, is it a deal?  You wanna let me stick around ta give ya some help, Stanford?”

And at that point Stan decided that enough was enough.

He cleared his throat, loudly; both his brother and the triangle freak startled and whipped around to stare at him.  Evidently they had forgotten his presence, big surprise.

“So, uh, what other yahoos have you been a muse for?” Stan asked, eyebrows raised in mock curiosity.

Bill reacted naturally enough; he waved his free hand lazily in the air.  “Oh, all the great minds from this dimension-fellas like Leonardo da Vinci, Michelangelo, Nikola Tesla, people like that.”

The mock curiosity became mock surprise.  “I thought da Vinci and Michelangelo were alive at the same time.”  Hey, what do you know, he did remember something from high school world history.

“...What’s your point?” Bill asked.

“You said you picked one mind a century.”

Again, the triangle tried to play it off.  “Eh, I was feeling generous that century. Gave old Mikey a few pointers on that chapel roof of his.”

“...Right.”  Stan sat back in his chair, arms folded.

Bill was just turning back to Ford, probably about to reiterate his question about whether they had a deal, when Stan asked, “Why was there a warning not ta summon you?”

The triangle looked back at him, now with visible exasperation in his eye.  “What?”

“In the spot where we found the thing talkin’ about how ta summon you, there was a note at the bottom sayin’ not ta read the inscription.  What was that all about?” He tilted his head a little. “You get an unhappy customer last time or somethin’?”

Bill groaned.  “Ugh, Stanford, your brother always this much of a buzzkill?”

“It’s just a question.”  Stan spread his hands innocently.  “I wanna make sure we know what we’re gettin’ into before makin’ any decisions, cuz I read that thing too.”

This time the whole triangle turned red.  But with a visible effort he calmed himself.  “Okay, okay, I’ll give you a few minutes to figure this out in private.  But I need ya ta make a decision quick; I got a few runner-ups out there who’ll probably snap me up in seconds if you turn me down, Stanford!”

He snapped his fingers.

********

Stan’s eyes flew open; they were back in the cave.  Thankfully the lantern was still lit, but the light had dimmed while they were asleep; he leaned over to it and turned it up.

And then he got a good look at Ford’s face; it had become flooded with red, and a vein was throbbing in the side of his neck.

Uh-oh.

********

Well, on the one hand, Stan's not buying Bill's BS. On the other hand, Ford is more than a little p_ssed at him right now. ...The latter could be a problem.

[mysongfortheasking]

2020: A New Decade. A New Life.

I’m sitting at my kitchen table. It’s January 30, 2020--the first day of PhD classes. And suddenly, it really hits me: this is a new decade. A new era. An entirely new life. And my God, am I so thankful.

Just three months ago, on Halloween night, I was at the literal lowest point I had ever been in life. For years, I had been spiraling downward, but ignoring all the sings. I was drinking heavily, and often. I was constantly trying to keep my brain altered using some form of substance or other. I couldn’t stand myself or my thoughts sober. Once, I tried to stay sober for one month. 30 days. And on day 8, I threw in the towel and literally said, “I can’t take this.” Friends were starting to say to me things like, “Are you okay? Maybe you need to get some help.” At times, even I would have brief thoughts that said, “Maybe this is a problem. Maybe you should get help.” But I kept pushing them back, telling myself, “Nah, I don’t have a problem. I’m just stressed right now, and need this--eventually I’ll slow down. I’ve got this. I can fix this. I have everything under control. This is my life, and I’m living it how I want.” But despite it all, my life kept plummeting. I was getting myself in one bad, unhealthy, unsafe situation after another, and constantly having to have someone come bail me out. And then came Halloween night.

I had just gotten in an argument with a family member that day, so I poured myself a drink (at 11 am), finished it, poured another, and texted a friend who had invited me to go party. I had previously declined, saying, “No, I have work tomorrow, I should really be responsible.” But after the drinks hit my head, I texted her back and said, “Who cares about responsibility. I’m down, let’s go.”

I had planned to go out, just have a few drinks to get my mind off things, and then come home. What actually happened was I lost count of the drinks, briefly blacked out, and found myself stuck in a sequence of events that I said would never happen to me. (Forgive me for being vague, I’m just not quite ready to share this part of the story, but let just me tell you: it was bad.) The next morning, I woke up in a situation where I couldn’t call for help this time. I was in a spot that no one could bail me out of. I had gotten myself to a point where there was no going back, no blaming the alcohol, no saying Oops, my bad, sorry! and just moving on with my life. At one point I would have said choosing to go out that night was the biggest mistake of my life--but looking back now, I think it was possibly one of the biggest blessings God could have given me. I’m not saying God caused bad things to happen to me (I don’t believe He does that), but I am saying that I think God used the situation I had created for myself as a way to intervene, because for the first time, I said out loud the words I had pushed back for so long.

I know I have a problem. And I need help.

Within a few days, I found myself sitting in a twelve-step group meeting. I had planned to slip in and slip out, to get a few words of wisdom for myself and leave. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, didn’t want to say a word, and I definitely didn’t think to myself that I was “one of them.” I was just going to “check it out,” to see what this thing was all about, and to (hopefully) get some tips on how to have self-control so that someday I could drink normally again.

As I walked in the door, a woman stopped me and said, “Hey, is this your first meeting?”

Of course. Of COURSE I get stopped at the door, I thought. “Yeah,” I said as I avoided direct eye contact and tried to keep walking in.

“Like your first meeting here, or your first meeting ever?”

I told her it was my first meeting ever, while simultaneously thinking, Let me go, lady. Can’t you see I don’t want to talk to anyone?

She smiled the most genuine smile, and said, “I’m so glad you’re here. I want to talk with you after the meeting.” I smiled back, and thought a single phrase: Crap. This was NOT in my plans. I did NOT want to talk to anyone, did NOT want to tell anyone about myself, and I most CERTAINLY did NOT want anyone telling me I was an alcoholic (because I ABSOLUTELY WAS NOT). But, before I knew it, I had said, “Yeah, okay, sounds good.”

The entire time sitting in that meeting, I heard these strangers--people I had never seen, never spoken to, never met in my life--talk about me. They all had the same feelings I felt. They all had the same thoughts I felt. They all shared my experiences and struggles and life. But the fundamental difference was...these people were happy. These people were smiling, and laughing, and free. These people were alive. I didn’t know how they did it, but I knew that I wanted that. I wanted it desperately.

After the meeting, multiple people came to me and shook my hand, introduced themselves, asked me how I was doing (and truly meant it), and repeated the same phrase: I’m glad you’re here. I kept thinking to myself, “Do these people really mean this? They don’t know me. How could they possibly care this much? How could they be glad I--a total stranger--am here?”

Then the woman who stopped me at the door approached me with a small red book in her hand. We talked, and to be honest, I don’t remember exactly everything that was said, but as she handed me the small book, she said, “Nobody can tell you if you’re an alcoholic or not. Only you can determine that. Read the first section of this book, and maybe, if you see yourself in there, you’re in the right place.” I took the book and said I would. As she hugged me, she said, “Keep coming back.”

I went home and opened the book, began to read, and could’t stop. I saw myself on every single page. And two things became clear to me:

I was most certainly the alcoholic this book described.

There was hope.

I went back to the group the next night, November 6, and picked up what is called “The Desire Chip.” When handing out a Desire Chip, they say, “This chip is for anyone who would like to try our way of living for 24 hours.” I didn’t just want to try their way of living for a day. I wanted to try it for the rest of my life.

I spoke again with the woman who gave me the book. I asked her, “What do I do next?” She told me I needed to get a sponsor and start working the 12 steps, and (of course) I immediately asked her to be that. (Which, by the way, if you’re reading this Anna, you are truly the best, and I can’t say enough how thankful I am for you.)

Last week, she and I were working the third step, which says, “We made a decision to turn our will and lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.” In the Book, when they explain what Step 3 is, they follow up with a set of promises, which say:

When we sincerely took such a position, all sorts of remarkable things followed. We had a new Employer. Being all powerful, He provided what we needed, IF we kept close to Him and performed His work well. Established on such a footing we became less and less interested in ourselves, our little plans and designs. More and more we became interested in seeing what we could contribute to this life. As we felt new power flow in, as we enjoyed peace of mind, as we discovered we could face life successfully, as we became conscious of His presence, we began to lose our fear of today, tomorrow, or the hereafter. We were reborn.

I found myself again thinking, I want that. I want that life so badly. So when she asked me, “Are you truly willing to turn your life and will over to the care of God?” I had no hesitation. We got down on our knees and prayed together. And there, in a tiny closet, holding hands with the woman who had stopped me at the door three months earlier, I felt the closest to God I have felt in a long time.

There’s obviously much more to the story than just that. I haven’t been magically cured of anything. My problems haven’t just suddenly disappeared. I’m still dealing with the aftermath of Halloween night. I’m still working through problems and resentments and issues. I’ve still got problems (who doesn’t?), but the way I deal with them, and the way I live my life is a million times better than it was three months ago. I’m no longer saying, “I’ve got this. I can fix this. I have everything under control. This is my life, and I’m living it how I want.” Now, I’m saying, “I am powerless. And God, I need Your power.”

So here I am. I’m sitting at my kitchen table. It’s January 30, 2020--the first day of PhD classes. And suddenly, it really hits me: This is a new life. I am living the life I always wanted. And I begin to cry.

I am starting my third degree.

I am working the job I’ve always wanted, teaching English and helping students.

I have a better relationship with my family than I’ve had in long time.

I have friends who, instead of saying “Are you okay? Maybe you need help,” are saying things like, “You are clearly different. You’re so happy. I am so proud of you.”

I am in a healthy relationship with a boyfriend who has been there for me through all of this and more, who is the best of friends, the kindest, most supportive person, and who believes that I can do anything.

I am closely connected to God. I truly feel Him with me every single day.

I am the happiest and healthiest I have been in years, and I didn’t do any of it. I couldn’t have.

My sponsor likes to say when she tells her story, “This isn’t about me. This isn’t my story. It’s God’s. I’m just privileged enough to be the one to deliver it.” And she’s right, so I’m stealing it from her. (Sorry, not sorry, Anna.)

I am truly happy for the first time in a long time. But I--my self--had nothing to do with it. When I was trying to make myself happy and fulfilled, I only came up depressed and empty-handed. But God. He did it all. He brought me to an AA meeting on a Monday night, November 4, 2019. He led a woman to stop me at the door, to ask to talk to me afterwards, and to give me a little red book that changed my life. He put other people in my life to help and support and encourage me through this. He took all that I had messed up and broken, and turned it into something beautiful.

It’s all Him, all His work.

I’m just eternally grateful that I get to reap some of the benefits.

[thisnerdsadventures]

weekends

Hey so there’s this initiative called Weekends@MIT here that sponsors fun, on-campus substance free events (quidditch actually just got a $500 grant to do an event coming soon in March through the program). Thought I’d talk a bit about what we do outside of classes on the weekends here! because the overcommitment does not stop for the weekend!

First weekend of the semester was our house government retreat! This year instead of going to the alumni house out in the woods for the day, we went to Cape Cod for an overnight trip :D It was my first overnight retreat, and it was tons of fun! Even though it was hella cold, we all got pretty good beach pics too.

Basically what people do on retreats are talk about semester plans and do ice breakers and get to know one another, so we talked for a bit about event planning and budgets, and then literally all the upperclassmen gathered in a room and watched the bee movie and national treasure while psetting, so that was that

Our motto for the year is “I see it, I like it, I want it, I got it” so that’s a thing. Last year it was “Anarchy” so maybe we just need some sleep lol

That weekend I also chaired for MIT Model UN! They let me come back and chair this year for some reason :D Last year I chaired with my friend on the UNSC committee and this year I helped out with the DISEC committee. I feel like I know parliamentary procedure a lot better this time around as I did a lot more of the talking, and it was still a lot of fun seeing what people discussed. Also have a lot of friends on Secretariat, so it was great to spend the night with them!

Last weekend was a long weekend, so my friend and I took advantage of it and went to New York! We saw Chuck Schumer at the Chinatown Lunar New Year Parade and took a picture with a random Knicks player we didn’t know. We went to the Met two days in a row and ate all the food, so I’d say it was a success all around.

This weekend was a lot more chill - I had a friend come from BU and we got dinner at Simmons with some friends there, and afterwards, we went to a party where I proceeded to see everyone I have ever met in my life, including seven subsets of friends, past TA’s, and even someone from my high school I haven’t talked to in five years who’s now doing a PhD here. I got dim sum with some friends I haven’t been out with in forever and got boba with some freshmen on my floor. This morning, I was initiated into our chapter of Tau Beta Pi, which is our engineering honor society and got brunch with fellow initiates afterwards. Ran a bit over a mile at the gym at a nine minute pace, graded for an algorithms class, emailed my professor back, had conversations about on-campus housing, and I’d say that I’m t h r i v i n g so far this semester.

Looking forward to next weekend, there’s a design exercise about on-campus housing and room assignment that admin is holding with dorm representatives (which should, honestly, be a time) and IM basketball spring season is starting! No rest for the weary, it seems :D Also super excited for this Friday, where there’s probably gonna be a super exciting post with me screaming in incomprehensible text and hyperlinks all over the place ;)

Goals for this semester...? Not sure if I’ve posted this anywhere, but i do have a few really concrete goals for this semester, so I’ll post it now, w/ updates

1) connect with people I’ve lost contact with - doing pretty well so far, I had dinner and dished about random stuff with one of my friends I haven’t seen much this semester. I planned two (2) dinners for next week with people who live elsewhere (aka not within two buildings of dorm row lol), who I don’t really hang out with outside clubs/classes, so I’m excited!! And I saw that random guy from my high school, and texted another guy who said he’s coming to visit in April. I’m also trying to put more effort into hanging out with the other people on my floor and the floor above because they seem cool ~~

2) Exercise more - I’ve actually been doing really well on this, i’ve worked out nearly every day this semester so far (like 6/7 days a week). In general, I’ve been taking care of myself and I’ve gotten around 7 or 8 hours of sleep every night and have been trying to go to bed around 12:30 or 1 and wake up earlier. I briefly went on a coffee phase, but it really wrecked my sleep for a couple days, so I think I’m going to stick with decaf from now on rather than developing a habit like last semester. (It got pretty bad, I had to detox for like a month) I’ve done my laundry once a week, every week, and my room is like 8/10 clean at all times

3) Be more open and do more fun things and be more chill! Just super random stuff like playing poker with my area director or saying yes to people wanting to go out more and being more involved and talking more, about things I care about, in class, whatever it may be. Doing kind things, like sleeping on the floor so a frosh can have the bed, and laughing more and being more relaxed about stuff. I think my grades might dip a little honestly since I’m being more chill, but you know what? it’s worth it if i’m waking up and feeling good about my day right off the bat

[nsjang]

Sending ma off

7.5.20

Today we held a zoom memorial service for ma. It felt like a good ending to three weeks of preparing and processing her death. It was a big group effort, with everyone contributing in different ways. Bah prepared and organized all the moving parts, his own speech, slide shows, organizing all the people, coordinating the call, figuring out all the small details. Juen made the video, handled and set up the room and lighting and all the tech details. San prepared his speech, handled tech details during the call. Lisa coordinated the mortuary details and people managed and made sure everyone was on task. Sue took care of taeyang and played with him and kept in entertained and happy during all these gatherings when everyone was distracted and running around doing various tasks. 

Afterwards, I think everyone felt some type of closure after what felt like a very long period of preparing and planning. Figuring out what to do the day she died. Figuring out scheduling and days off and coordinating with Dave and Katie who had to fly and take more vacation than the rest of us to come. Figuring out whether to cremate or bury, whether to scatter at sea, whether to go with the prescheduled boat or do our own boat, whether to do a cremation viewing or not, everyone preparing and choosing a favorite verse, preparing a short thing to say at the viewing. Going to the viewing. Seeing her decaying flesh 10 days after she died. Crying hard during that, seeing her like that. Waiting a few days to get her remains. Asking about how the cremation went. Seeing the cremated remains. Figuring out how to open the urn with the sliding panel at the top. Looking at the bag of white ashes labeled with her May 30 birthday, and asking if they got that right, and bah confirming they got it right because that is her official birthday even though her real birthday is March 18. Going on the boat, spreading her ashes near the golden gate bridge. On the day of, finessing the room decorations to make sure it wasnt too busy, putting up sheets to cover the back, rearranging all the furniture in the room, figuring out how to put up the four-photo collage my dad printed on 6 8.5x11 pieces of paper, how to arrange the 20+ flower sets we received from people all over, figuring out the microphone sound settings, testing the sound, making sure the english translation was correct, making sure people knew how to dial in to the english translation number which was audio only but also the main channel that had the video and chinese audio. planning a week ahead to make sure that taeyang’s nap was right before the scheduled memorial service at 4pm PT. Checking how high of a setting we could put the fans to make sure we would not all melt while suited up, how to sit and arrange ourselves without looking too tacky. is the camera straight? Where do we put the laptop? We should put it up high above the webcam we ordered so we are all looking at the general direction of the camera while looking at the computer screen. Figuring out how to stack up chairs and fasten them together, along with a cardboard box, to place the laptop on, making sure it’s secure. Securing the microphone to a chair with a long metal rod so the mic is close enough to the speaker’s face. worrying if the various videos and slideshows we prepared would play properly. Ordering faster internet so we could have faster upload speeds. Do we have the right numbers for people in korea and taiwan to call in? 

And it all went smoothly. My mom impacted a lot of people. It was comforting to hear all the various people from various parts of her life speak about her, remember her, uplift her, reinforce what we collectively remember about her. 

at the very end, we got to talk very briefly to san san shu shu, mei mei, and shen shen. he told us to take care of our dad. we promised we would. 

afterwards, everyone felt relief. we all went for a walk, even bah came, where he refused every time the week before. jon was talkative and telling lisa to stop cleaning, where before the memorial he was the one fussing with all the small details. 

my own speech, which i shed some tears while drafting, but thankfully was able to hold together while giving it: 

We are here today to celebrate the life of my mom, Emma Sun, or who I know her as: mah or mommie. For anybody that doesn’t know me, my name is Nathan, and I am my mom’s eldest son. My two younger brothers, Jon and Dave, are also here, as well as my wife Sue, my son Taeyang, Jon’s wife Lisa, and David’s wife Katie.

My mom’s life was about sacrifice. She sacrificed everything for her family, and for her kids. She often told me the story that when she was studying for her chemistry PhD at Stony Brook in New York, she was pregnant with me and studied with a heavy textbook resting on her growing belly. When I was born, she was just one semester into her PhD. My mom and dad went to see the university’s daycare program, but she decided to quit her PhD and take care of me full time instead.

There were times in my life where I did not fully appreciate her sacrifices or dedication to us. I remember one time in high school I told her, why didn’t you just send us to daycare? We would have been more socialized. Look at my friend—his parents sent him to daycare and he is way more sociable and popular than I am. See, you didn’t have to sacrifice and give up your life for us. But now, as a parent myself, I understand how hurtful those words must have been to her. Now I understand just a bit more the reason she gave up her career for us.

She ensured that her kids had the best and received as much resources as she could provide. Every Sunday she would dress all three of us in matching outfits. Every holiday party we were in matching bowties and vests that she sewed herself. Our school lunches were hand-packed with healthy fruits and vegetables and sandwiches. And she made sure we ate our vitamins every night, which some of us did not always follow. One time when we were in elementary school and we were moving to a different house, we moved Jon’s mattress. Underneath we found a giant stash of fluoride pills that Jon had secretly spit out every night after the lights were turned out. My mom loved to tell that story to show how mischievous Jon was.

She diligently researched the best books for us to read, and encouraged us to read biographies of great people so we could have role models to shape our own lives. She made sure we had piano lessons, violin lessons, drum lessons, bass guitar lessons, soccer during the fall, basketball in the winter, baseball in the spring, summer camps to go every year, Chinese school after church on Sunday, and even the dreaded Kumon.

When we were in high school, she encouraged us to study hard, but she also emphasized and demonstrated the importance of generosity and hospitality. We never had any hesitation to invite large gatherings over to our place, because we knew that our mom would prepare plenty of food and snacks for all who came over. We would invite the entire church youth group over to our house after church to hang out in the summer, watch movies in our basement, while my mom constantly prepared plates of snacks for people to pass around. Then we would head to the back porch where my mom and dad would prepare dinner for twenty hungry teenagers.

In college as well, my mom welcomed many of my international friends over during the longer breaks, as they often had no place to go to during the holidays. One thanksgiving break in college, I invited my then girlfriend Sue to my house, along with two other friends. Even before my mom knew that we were dating, she treated Sue like her own daughter the very first time they met. Sue remembers that her guest room was always prepared with love and care. Every Christmas break since then, my mom would prepare a gift for Sue as well. This past Christmas, my mom handed down her own nativity set and Christmas tree so that Sue can continue the tradition of having a warm and generous holiday spirit.  

As we got older and moved away to college and jobs, my mom regularly checked on each one of us, gave us personally tailored advice, and made sure we were eating healthily, sleeping enough, living a balanced lifestyle, and most importantly, that we were keeping up and growing closer to God. She initiated family gatherings every year to make sure that we all spent time together at least once a year.

My mom taught me that the most important things in life are first and foremost my relationship with God, and second, my family. She made sure that I didn’t get too focused on my job at the cost of my family and my health. My mom taught me that by being generous with your time and energy, you will gain much more than you give. And my mom taught me to always strive to be better, to seek excellence, but to do it all honestly and without ever forgetting that money is not the most important thing in life, that character, and the way you carry yourself, is much more important.

Often times my mom may have thought her words fell on deaf ears, on her unappreciative and often-times stubborn kids. And although it may have taken some time for me to fully understand the sacrifices you have made and the wisdom you constantly tried to impart to us, now I at least understand and appreciate you more. I will strive to remember your words and the lessons you have taught us.

In your last days, we saw your tenacity for life and your strength, your will to live, and your ability to endure great suffering. At all times, you clung onto God and urged us to as well. Even your last words to us, you made us promise to read the Bible, pick a favorite verse to help guide our footsteps. You wanted to ensure that all of us would promise to pursue and grow closer to God. And I promise here again that I will do that.

Thank you ma. May you rest in peace.

--

Chanyoung sent a note: Nate, your tribute was deeply touching. (I cried...) As one of the "international students" who found home away home thanks to Mrs. Sun's hospitality, I am grateful and indebted. Until now I didn't know about the ailments she had to endure for the past three years--may she rest in peace, finally at home with God after her sojourn on earth. Praying that God's peace, and knowledge that she's in God's care, comfort and strengthen your family in this difficult time. Speak to you soon.

[letters-to-my-dear-ex-boyfriend]

Dear Ex Boyfriend,

I don’t know If I will send this. Its all very dependent on your response to the last letter. I am hopeful this will get sent, but only time will tell. Who knows, maybe we will let technology seep in ever so slightly and use email. At least with email we know it will arrive.

I do this now, I write. I do it for me to get a lot off of my mind. Its somewhere I can go back to if I need to rethink or readjust a storyline in my head. Its therapeutic. Its sad. I would rather just talk these things through with you. I would rather have a conversation. I would rather we tried to work through this. We got therapy, we worked on us, worked on our communication. I would rather a lot of things, that aren’t this ending. I think that is what hurts the most. That I saw so many other avenues before this one.

Do you hate music? I hate music now. I don’t think you will have the same feelings towards music as me. But I think that is because your music choices tend to centre more around drugs, someone getting shot, or about some cheating hoes (this list isn’t exhaustive of all your music). But my music tends to be the junk on the radio that harps on and on and on about love, being loved, loving someone, and just absolute utter shit I don’t want to listen to. Any joyous song I once used to just quietly play in the background, now invades my personal space and makes me relive that Friday over and over again.

I do have to thank you though. Not exactly for what you did, and absolutely not for how you did it. But you did free me. I don’t stare at clocks anymore calculating what time it is in Scotland. I don’t rush through my day to make sure I am available during my most productive midday hours to not be productive but to sit on a video call. Some good is coming from this. BUT the reality is that I could have had that same good if we were simply in the same time zone. This is only freeing because of the time zones. I wouldn’t be appreciative of it or even thankful in the slightest if we were in the same time zone.

We briefly messaged back and forth the other day. But I had to stop it. It was feeling too normal. Too back to normal… That was the problem. It felt like we were back to the old days, of just chatting about anything and everything. But I stopped it. I was heavily policing myself. In a very tiring way. A way I don’t want to police myself anymore. Policing myself wasn’t hard, it was just doing it for someone I hadn’t had to do that for-for years. That was the hard part. Talking to you wasn’t hard. Letting you know how G was, wasn’t hard. Omitting the fact that D had been struggling greatly, that I suddenly became the only thing between him and a really horrible outcome. That was hard. That is hard. The first person I wanted to call was you, even though it was 8pm at night, so you wouldn’t have been available anyways. I also couldn’t call you, as I was trapped on the phone with D for hours. I wasn’t free until midnight, where I was barely free, I was exhausted, and would feel the aftermath of that call for days to come. So its been a lot.

The one time I really needed my trusty support system, I don’t get it. But at the same time that isn’t so different from how it had been at times. I try so incredibly hard to suppress that one summer visit when my grandmother died, and you spent it skydiving. I don’t know who to be mad at for the trip. Myself for not speaking up and asking you to not do the one thing you love the most in life. Or you for not seeing the obvious heart break I was going through and to choose to step back yourself. I still don’t know who to be mad at. I think I am mad at us both. Me for not mustering up the energy to speak up, and you for not seeing this as such an obvious time to spend more time with me, not less. I knew you loved skydiving, I knew that that trip was all about skydiving for you. But when we packed and left for Canada we didn’t know we were going to arrive to a death, plans should have changed right then and there. But I wouldn’t ask you to change them. I never did, and never would. That trip has never not stuck with me. I had thought back to it all the time and still do. It confuses me, I don’t like that I don’t know what the right answer is, and that maybe there never was one. I don’t like forcing people to do what is seemingly right, or better for the greater good. I want people to get there themselves, on their own accord. The same way I didn’t want to force you to move to Canada, maybe my silence was the same mistake.

I had a funny little moment of realization today. I think this pandemic made me into the person you might have wanted. I became this homebody that cooks, cleans, works out, goes on daily long walks, is independent, and is working from home. I don’t know that that is exactly what you wanted, but I have a feeling that that person wouldn’t make you unhappy, you wouldn’t not be pleased. This whole time I wanted to push back against being that person. But here I am, and Its not the worst thing ever. I could easily do this for lifetime. The important part being that I am not alone, that the cooking and cleaning is a constant team effort with my mother, and walks are with her too. I am independent, but not doing much alone. Which is exactly what I always wanted. I wanted to just not be alone, to share moments on long walks, or cooking together. I just wanted those little moments of us, just us. Every single one on one hike, dog walk, movie night, dinner, afternoon tea. I was at my happiest, I wanted the gift of one on one time with you, I just wanted us to get back to basics, back to just us.

I think I must have reached the part where you sit around bargaining. But its a weird form of bargaining. Its not just relationship related. It isn’t me thinking of all the things I would give up and do for you. Although that is part of it. Its me bargaining everything. Its me debating if this is how I want to spend the rest of my 20s, stressed, chained to a desk, chained to school. Is that what I want. Pandemics are wild but great for self reflection. You finally get to slow down and breathe. Your brain finally gets a chance to get out of that fog of stress and burnout it has lived in for years. I don’t think this is what I want right now. It is something I want, and in an ideal world I would do it right now, I would get it out of the way. So that I could just live my life the way I want, after doing all the steps to please everyone in my life. I can go screw off and live in a van and travel, but hey at least I have a PhD. I guess I am bargaining. I used to see a PhD as something that wouldn’t always be available to me, so I had to do it while I could. Who knew that you were what wouldn’t always be available to me.

You were saying that our relationship had been flawed for a while now. At first I just couldn’t grasp onto why that came as a surprise. Obviously it was flawed. We met on exchange, you lived in Germany, I lived in Canada, I moved home for months, I lost funding for my masters, I moved back to Scotland to be live alone, I started a new degree, I started to train Walt, you left the army, you moved back to Scotland, we moved house, you lost money in trades, you started a new job, I finished my thesis, I defended my thesis, I couldn’t find a way to stay other than a spouse visa, we had to give Walt back, I got kicked out of the country, you moved house, I started a new degree. It was like a never-ending list of hurdles to be jumped. It wasn’t going to be perfect. It wasn’t perfect. But I was happy to wade through that bullshit with you. I saw the light at the end of the tunnel. That light was Canada, and us being there together, back to basics, just us. That clearly didn’t happen.

I tried to think about when I was at my happiest in our relationship. Actually, I thought about when I was happiest in my life. 2 instances stand out. Both instances were when I did something crazy, something not quite normal, something for me. I did an extra year of school so I could go on an exchange, and moved abroad to do a master’s degree. Both times I cried at an airport leaving home. But I cried even harder moving back home afterwards. I never wanted to come home, I never wanted those experiences to end. I still tell everyone that they were the best experiences of my life.

I have grown J. For multiple reasons. I am off the birth control that left my depressed and in a fog. I finally have the opportunity to breathe and think without the burnout and stress of school. I have gotten therapy and speak with a professional weekly. I have grown. I have seen the mistakes I made in our relationship, that I denied for years. I see the times where I was in the wrong. I see that now. But I needed time to see that. I needed time to learn from them. I needed time to mature. I hope you have managed to do the same. I hope you have found an opportunity between work and James to think. To breathe. To mature in similar ways. I hope you still want to live in a van, travel, and skydive. I hope you still want to eventually get a dog and live on a big chunk of land in a log cabin. I hope your dreams haven’t change. I just hope you have grown the way I have.

You said it yourself that life is this wild thing and who knows what will happen. We have lived just one version of our story. But its all just one of those create your own story adventures. You can choose to stick to your guns, do something out of a RomCom, be stubborn, be empathetic, be open, be willing to change, be willing to risk it all, or choose nothing at all. You can just close the book and decide that is that. What I am trying to say in a super cheesy RomCom way is that I haven’t closed the book. I am ready to make some pretty crazy decisions. Decisions that will make people shake their heads in disbelief. I have done what I do best. Researched. I googled, I asked questions, and I have come up with possible plans. I have done what I always do, except this time I have done it with me in mind. With us in mind. Not with my family in mind, my friends in mind, my colleagues in mind.

I hate that I can’t just hop on a plane to Scotland right now. To do this in person. To just talk. I hate that this is all happening now. I hate that this is happening. But it is. And I am going to come out of this better. In everyway. I will be better inside and out. For me. I will come out on top. The question is where will you come out, where do you want to come out, how do you want to come out, and with whom?

Let me know when you have had a chance to breathe, to think, to mature, to grow. Let me know when you have though about different versions of the story, and what version you would prefer.

Let me know when you know. Clearly, I am ready to bargain.

With love,

Ex Girlfriend

This whole thing is just damn weird. My friends are all getting engaged in relationships that barely touched the surface of hardships we went through. They are just hoping love is enough to get through it down the road. But we did all that, we did survive. Through hard times caused by a multitude of little things we had been dealing with for a long time before. Things that before defined our success, became the last straw. It’s a hard pill to swallow. Evidently, I am not ready to swallow it. I am not ready, I also do not want to.

[cosmosogler]

hey.

today i got up on time and got to the office on time. i taught my lab and everyone finished. one girl asked if i had their grades. 

i said “before the end of my natural lifespan i will get your grades back.”

the girl behind her laughed really hard. 

when that ended i went to my office hour and very slowly attempted to drink my soup. the thermos is a little too Powerful. i helped a student get set up to practice their lab while i oversaw the otherwise empty room and clicked through some social media sites. 

i think the break was helpful. it was nice to eat food slowly for once at least. when my hour was up i went back to suzanne’s office and got settled and worked on the late classical assignment and finished what i could... nobody knew how to do number 5 so i just wrote what i think i would need to do to solve it, and that i didn’t know how to start doing that, and turned it in. i briefly considered stopping at one of the offices i passed to talk about research projects, but i felt too busy and even more shy. 

so i went back downstairs and caught up on ALL my class notes, and put in a word with suzanne to give john my contact details. i will try to catch him before or after class tomorrow. and i did some work for e&m. 

that ended up taking all day. i didn’t get any grading done. i am avoiding it. i need to stop avoiding it. i will try again tomorrow. 

at about 3:15 i went upstairs with luis to the coffee/cookie afternoon thing that’s every tuesday and thursday. today i learned, from listening to the other students talk about their textbook, that they were undergraduates. i thought all of them were graduate students. 

there is a girl i have spoken with a few times. her name is also samantha. she said i was “so cute” when i roasted luis. i gritted my teeth and asked if it was the bow. she said it was the bow, and the curly hair, and the face, and that i was holding my tiny cookie with both hands, and a couple other things. 

i guess... it was... good...??? to get feedback on that. 

then she called me cute four more times in the next 20 minutes. i wanted to slap my hands on the table and tell her i am like four years older than her. as if being older makes you not cute i guess.

eventually i slumped in my chair and muttered “maybe YOU’RE cute.”

i think that was the response she was looking for because she got excited. i did like her glasses though, they are super round and huge. i only have “stern librarian” reading glasses. my elton john sunglasses broke at the frame so now the lens pops out. i have too many heavy things in my purse maybe. i can’t go anywhere without my game boy. just a habit by now.

that’s the only heavy thing in my purse.

then she called me cute again and didn’t seem to realize i had complimented the SHAPE of her glasses because she said “you have eyes.” 

i said “you have beautiful eyes. can i have them?” 

afterward when we were back in our office i asked luis if she was “like flirting with me for real.” he said sometimes people can be attracted to each other. later he texted her and then informed me it had been in jest.

but apparently i look like shirley temple. i get it from my gramma. my biological father’s side of the family also has naturally curly hair. my half brothers both have kinda soft round faces too.

i didn’t get flustered because she specifically called me cute. i got a little annoyed because it’s a Thing i deal with constantly from other people. and she did it like six times in the 40 minutes i was up there.

it feels like i worked all day? but it also feels like i didn’t get anything done. even though i was working for real and making progress through the things i was doing. like i wrote about four class periods’ worth of notes. well, three and a half. i nabbed my missing quantum notes from jake and jennica let me steal her notebook for the day since she wasn’t in the office. 

i hung out with harrison for a little while. he has a masters. at 19. i made a series of jokes where harrison was becoming more and more accomplished at more and more ridiculous ages until he was a tenured professor at a university teaching phd students older than him.

eventually rebika asked me a question, i don’t remember what it was, and when i responded she answered with “i don’t care.” i said “OH OKAY.”

luis laughed and said “sammie’s triggered.” 

i said “i’m pretty tilted.”

so i yanked rebika’s chain mercilessly for the next 25 minutes after that until i got ready to go home. 

i biked home without running out of breath! i mean i still have trouble picking up speed again after the hill, and i got cut off in the roundabout by a car that decided to go whatever speed i was going while i was trying to get into the circle, but i didn’t pant hardly at all!

haha the roundabout was annoying though. as i approached the circle in the highest gear the car came zooming right in and cut me off, so i slowed down, and then the car slowed down, and then i stopped, and the car stopped, and then i got moving and it moved. eventually it passed and i had to try to start moving in the highest gear because i didn’t have time to switch to a lower one before i’d stopped. i got passed by other bikes before i could pedal enough to switch my gear down.

when i got home i did some dishes and fussed over snoopy and took out the recycling. then i made TERIYAKI TEMPEH!!!

except the teriyaki i bought at the grocery store was just soy sauce which made me pretty sad. because i already have soy sauce. why did they call it teriyaki if it was soy sauce?

i had to make my own except i didn’t have corn starch so it was runny. 

it wasn’t my best dish ever? but it was perfectly acceptable. the rice came out really good for my first time ever making it myself. there’s something about this tempeh though that seems different from the kind i got at home, even though it shouldn’t be... they are the same brand. i can’t seem to recreate the nutty flavor. maybe it’s because i soften it first.

maybe they aren’t the same brand. the one i had at home crumbled super easy and this one i have to cut with a knife and then break apart as i saute it.

anyway i had plenty to eat, i made a little too much. at that point it was well after 8. i wanted to grade, but... i bummed around on the internet for a little bit instead. i checked my usual evening comics and then it was 9:30. that’s not enough time to do any grading so i swept my floor instead and finished up the dishes and hid some cookies around for snoopy to find. she didn’t find the last one from yesterday, which isn’t in one of her sleeping spots. 

maybe i should hide them BEFORE i give her a bunch off the bat so she watches me do that instead of eating while i hide them.

i cleared off my desk just a little bit and made up my to-do list for tomorrow and now it is 10:40. tomorrow i have group therapy AND the student “care area” appointment. and three classes. but at least it’s spaghetti day and my classmates are back on schedule.

emotionally... i am doing ok i guess. i felt more focused today than i have in like ten days. i got over a big hurdle with catching up with the class notes. and i wrote down the first question of the next classical assignment so it’s... started, technically. five to ten minutes i won’t have to spend later at least.

jake also gave me a bit of a pep talk. well, it wasn’t a pep talk so much as “you’re doing exactly what i did last year with the class notes.” he seems like a Responsible Adult. and he does take beautiful notes. he said mine were great though.

and i do more homework than he did last year (which was none) so hopefully that will... help somehow. i guess.

i just need to stop procrastinating and do the hard stuff. study for e&m and not just skim the chapter without reading anything. grade. i won’t have a lot of time tomorrow with the double appointments. but i also don’t have many other things on my to-do list that i can acceptably use to put off the stressful stuff. 

yeah, looking at the list, basically a third of it is taken up with just grading milestones alone. 

anyway, it’s 10:48, which is three minutes after my “stop writing” alarm has gone off. so i will get ready for bed now i guess. i also stretched today for just a few minutes so i feel a little more settled i hope. back, wrist, and eye exercises are something i’d like to start incorporating into my daily schedule but i’m not sure where to fit them in. i’ll look into that after this grading adventure is no longer an adventure and more of a routine. hopefully before the end of my natural lifespan.

[queermequeeryou]

Chapter 7

The academic year was almost over and after years of failed attempts, Nevada has decided she was finally ready to defend her PhD thesis. She finished all the corrections and signed the paper on time. Everything was ready. She was excited and relieved because she knew it would be just a formality. Only thing that worried her was who the guests she has invited. Parents had to be there, obviously Ellen as well because first of all she was her professor. She invited Christina as well because obviously, Nevada wanted her presence on this important day. It was all going to be very strange. There was a doubt in her if she should invite Henry, Christina’s husband. If so, how should she react afterwards, when receiving congratulations from everybody? Also, will she be able to hide the feelings between her and Ellen while being exposed to the eyes of entire university staff? The last but not least was what her parents would think and what would happen if any scandal takes place? Was it possible that she would not receive the title if something about her and Ellen would come up? Nevada felt quite insecure. 

Since she has taken Christina’s advice and started to date both of them, everything finally seemed to be right. She felt happy not to choose between them both. That was a perfect solution. Monogamy was not for Nevada. Their relationships were completely different, though. With Christina it was deeply passionate, full of unspoken issues but also it was like they knew each other forever. They rarely talked but there was some connection between them that was hard or even impossible to describe. Nevada knew that was the love of her life and only death could break it because they were both thinking same way. It was sometimes very toxic and complicated but they were sure that they could not live without it. With Ellen it was calm, stable, loving, caring, with lots of conversations and support. Nevada also fell in love with Ellen. She was helping her a lot, supporting with the PhD. Without her help she would never finish it. Nevada was also proud that Ellen stopped going to the casino when they have started dating seriously. They both got back on track. But there was also some strange sadness in Ellen’s eyes, especially every time when Nevada mentioned that she is going to Christina for the night. Frankie reckoned that the answer was the jealousy but she forced herself not to overthink it. It was easier to avoid the problem. Talking it out would probably lead to asking her to decide. She could not do that. 

Ellen put on a coffee machine. Frankie came downstairs to the kitchen and greet her with a morning kiss “How are you? I prepared some coffee” said Ellen with a subtle smile. “Very well. Thank you, that’s lovely” replied Frankie and embraced her. “I just want to tell you I’m very proud of your defence. I’ve always known it will happen” she said in a very serious tone. “Thank you, Ellen. Without your support, I don’t think I’d do that. I love you” Frankie’s words surprised red-haired woman but she smiled even wider. “I never thought you’d say that” mumbled Ellen in passing “I love you too”.  They finished their coffees not talking much more. Finally, Frankie stood up to get prepared. “Would you come by in the evening? I will make a nice dinner” suggested Ellen. Nevada looked down. “I’m going to see Christina right after work today” she said and kissed Ellen on the forehead. “But I’ll come tomorrow in the morning before the graduation” Ellen took her hand and held it for a moment while looking into her eyes.  “Thank you” repeated Frankie and kissed her professor. She got upstairs to take her bag. When she signed her paper, Nevada has started to work on some research for the Ancient Literature Legacy Institute. It was very interesting project and not much engaging so she could do something but not get her mind off the topic of her PhD thesis before the defence. Ellen’s sight today was hard to forget.

In the evening she headed directly to Christina’s flat. Frankie has never had any doubts on who to spend the evening and night before the graduation. The problem was only how to cope with Ellen’s reaction but she was very understanding, Only the sadness Frankie saw was heart-wrecking. They should talk about it finally. Ellen deserved it after all she has done for Nevada. When Nevada came inside she saw Christina wearing a very tight, black and transparent dress, strong and kinda gothic make-up and ordered pizza on the table, along with the bottle of Jack Daniels, empty glasses and ice in the freezer. Christina put on some music.  “I’m fuckin proud of you, chica” said Christina and kissed her. “Thanks. You look amazing” replied Nevada giving her a long gaze.  “I know, I prepared everything. I even bought some fancy new lingeries. You’re gonna rate soon”.  They came to the kitchen were Christina was struggling with the lighter. There were candles as well.  “Fuck, I have too long nails to do this. I hate this stupid lighter” Nevada helped her out. “I like your nails a lot but they scare me out a tiny bit” reacted Frankie while holding Christina’s hand and looking on her long black manicure. “Don’t worry, you know I’m talented” “Without a doubt, honey” she winked to her and sat by the table to have their pizza with jack on the rocks. 

Christina took barely half empty bottle of alcohol and put it on the counter.  “Normally I wouldn’t even care but tomorrow is your day so you’re not getting wasted. We’re going to sleep soon. Or to bed first but you have to look perfect and be in your best state so drinking and fucking all night is for tomorrow” she said in a tone that would take no negation.  “I love you, bitch.” replied Nevada and kissed her passionately. “I love you too, motherfucker” Christina’s reaction was always the best. They went to the bedroom were Christina put on the adapter and danced for her while getting undressed. She bought new stockings and the entire new lingerie looked perfect on her. The gift box stood nearby on the bed. “I’ve got you something as well” smiled Christina. Nevada opened the box. There were a brand new dildo with a jockstrap. Nevada bursted into laugh. “Is it a gift for me or for you?” “Let’s say, for both of us” answered Christina and came closer to Nevada to receive her kisses. “Let’s try it out a bit and tomorrow we can improve our play”. “Sounds perfect” Frankie put two fingers inside Christina and she sighed. Frankie licked both. With Ellen it was always different. That was more like making love, very calm and gentle. With Christina, they sometimes even preferred BDSM. When it comes to sex, Nevada definitely preferred the option she had with Christina. She moved her finger up and down til Christina came and moaned hardly. Then, the older brunette got on her knees and licked Frankie’s. They tried out the gift as planned too but they did not spend too much time on it because of the great day that was coming.

In the morning, she drove to see Ellen. There were a coffee, like always and some richly looking omelettes. Even Ellen knew that Christina has no idea about cooking and it probably would be a great idea to prepare something. “Good morning on your day” greeted her the red-haired woman who used to be only her professor for a while. “Good morning, beautiful” Frankie smiled and sat by the table to eat with her.  “I can’t believe it happens. I’m so happy” started Nevada between the bites. “I can’t even thank you properly because no words could describe it. I will be forever grateful that you came into my life and reminded me what is important in life. You deserve somebody to be exclusive with you and I’m sorry that I can’t give you that. That’s what you want, am I right?” Ellen sighed. “I just can’t help that I feel jealous every time you say her name, when you go to her, when I see her with you. It’s hard. I have to admit. I am not a polygamous type but I love you and I accept your choices. It’s not what I want. Not only that. In a relationship, it is what we both want and need. I am happy that we are together. I thought that after years of lying to my husband and to myself I would never be able to find love because it was too late for me to start all over again. I found it with you and it doesn’t matter it’s not perfect. I am just thankful for what we have. Also, that’s a perfect moment because as you were not a student, you were not attending lectures regularly, nothing could be sensed by others, you finish the university today so I can keep my job because we made it, our love remained a secret. I couldn't wish for anything more. I’m happy, incredibly happy. The jealousy is almost nothing comparing to the solitude I was struggling with before I met you. But thank you for addressing this because it means that you care and that feels great” she smiled sincerely.  After the breakfast, they decided Frankie will go first by her own car and Ellen will arrive about fifteen minutes before the ceremony. 

When Frankie came to the university, her parents were there already. She greeted her with courtesy. She was not caring for their presence. They were not interested in her life. They wanted to appear because that was just what you do when you child gets a PhD degree. They did barely speak. Christina arrived not long afterwards. She was without Henry. People were coming in and the defence was about to start. Christina came by on the backstage and kissed her. “You are the smartest ass I have ever known. And also the best one. You go, babe” she said, kissed her briefly and winked. Then got back to the first row, not the one close to Frankie’s parents, though. There were some disruptions due to late lecturer. Nevada took a glance through the audience. Ellen was nowhere to be found. 

It was almost half an hour later than the scheduled start and professor Dellayune was still not present. Everybody else were ready. They agreed to do some changes and other professor came to replace Ellen. Frankie was stressed, worried and upset that she would not be there but she also decided that this is her moment. Yes, Ellen has helped her a lot but for Nevada only herself should be the most important. People are coming and going, she - Nevada - will be the only one to remain with her til the end. She focused herself and smiled back to Christina. It meant the world to her that the brunette was here but she realised if she would not be, she would survive that as well. After all it is her. Some egoistic approach is always the good way. The only true one. Because what matters in one’s life is what one’s want. Nothing more, nothing less. Nobody. 

Nevada did it. She defended her PhD thesis after years of struggling with herself. She won with the hardest foe. To begin a new fight all over again. Everyday. Frankie received congratulations from proud parents, then embraced Christina and kissed her on the cheek. They all came out of the aula to the corridor. The ceremony ended. Nevada was going to have drinks with Christina. She kinda hoped that Ellen would join her so they celebrate together. She took out her phone and chose Ellen’s number. She felt bad with craving for attention. Calling was giving Frankie bad vibes. She neglected. “All good?” asked Christina. “Yes, I hope so. I just don’t know where Ellen is and why she did not appear. I saw her in the morning, you understand. I told you yesterday the details. Let’s go” she told brunette. “Frances?” asked somebody out of the blue. “Yes?” It was professor Johnson, one of her tutors. “We just had an information about professor Dellayune’s whereabouts and the reason why she did not appear for your PhD thesis defence. She had a car accident. It was very serious. She did not even make it to the hospital”. From the university canteen, there was some music on the corridor. It was Brian Ferry’s Slave to Love. Frankie could not believe. She felt everything slows. It was like a bad dream coming true. It was not ever for her. Christina held Frankie and embraced her.  “I’m very sorry, love”. “Ellen was the purest, the most loving person I knew. She have just started to live her true life. She did not deserve it.” “Nobody deserves it, yet we all die” summed up Christina and kissed her on the head. “Let’s go finish this bottle of jack and use my gift properly for the entire night” said Frankie with an empty voice. “Sure, love. Let’s do it”. And they left.

[smspuneblogs-blog]

Helping kids cope with Stress

To adults, childhood can seem like a carefree time. But kids still experience stress. Things like school and their social life can sometimes create pressures that can feel overwhelming for kids. As a parent, you can’t protect your kids from stress — but you can help them develop healthy ways to cope with stress and solve everyday problems.

Kids deal with stress in both healthy and unhealthy ways. And while they may not initiate a conversation about what’s bothering them, they do want their parents to reach out and help them cope with their troubles.

But it’s not always easy for parents to know what to do for a child who’s feeling stressed.

Here are a few ideas:

Notice out loud. Tell your child when you notice that something’s bothering him or her. If you can, name the feeling you think your child is experiencing. (“It seems like you’re still mad about what happened at the playground.”) This shouldn’t sound like an accusation (as in, “OK, what happened now? Are you still mad about that?”) or put a child on the spot. It’s just a casual observation that you’re interested in hearing more about your child’s concern. Be sympathetic and show you care and want to understand.

Listen to your child. Ask your child to tell you what’s wrong. Listen attentively and calmly — with interest, patience, openness, and caring. Avoid any urge to judge, blame, lecture, or say what you think your child should have done instead. The idea is to let your child’s concerns (and feelings) be heard. Try to get the whole story by asking questions like “And then what happened?” Take your time. And let your child take his or her time, too.

Comment briefly on the feelings you think your child was experiencing. For example, you might say “That must have been upsetting,” “No wonder you felt mad when they wouldn’t let you in the game,” or “That must have seemed unfair to you.” Doing this shows that you understand what your child felt, why, and that you care. Feeling understood and listened to helps your child feel supported by you, and that is especially important in times of stress.

Put a label on it. Many younger kids do not yet have words for their feelings. If your child seems angry or frustrated, use those words to help him or her learn to identify the emotions by name. Putting feelings into words helps kids communicate and develop emotional awareness — the ability to recognize their own emotional states. Kids who can do so are less likely to reach the behavioral boiling point where strong emotions come out through behaviors rather than communicated with words.

Help your child think of things to do. If there’s a specific problem that’s causing stress, talk together about what to do. Encourage your child to think of a couple of ideas. You can start the brainstorming if necessary, but don’t do all the work. Your child’s active participation will build confidence. Support the good ideas and add to them as needed. Ask, “How do you think this will work?”

Listen and move on. Sometimes talking and listening and feeling understood is all that’s needed to help a child’s frustrations begin to melt away. Afterward, try changing the subject and moving on to something more positive and relaxing. Help your child think of something to do to feel better. Don’t give the problem more attention than it deserves.

Limit stress where possible. If certain situations are causing stress, see if there are ways to change things. For instance, if too many after-school activities consistently cause homework stress, it might be necessary to limit activities to leave time and energy for homework.

Just be there. Kids don’t always feel like talking about what’s bothering them. Sometimes that’s OK. Let your kids know you’ll be there when they do feel like talking. Even when kids don’t want to talk, they usually don’t want parents to leave them alone. You can help your child feel better just by being there — keeping him or her company, spending time together. So if you notice that your child seems to be down in the dumps, stressed, or having a bad day — but doesn’t feel like talking — initiate something you can do together. Take a walk, watch a movie, shoot some hoops, or bake some cookies. Isn’t it nice to know that your presence really counts?

Be patient. As a parent, it hurts to see your child unhappy or stressed. But try to resist the urge to fix every problem. Instead, focus on helping your child, slowly but surely, grow into a good problem-solver — a kid who knows how to roll with life’s ups and downs, put feelings into words, calm down when needed, and bounce back to try again.

Parents can’t solve every problem as kids go through life. But by teaching healthy coping strategies, you’ll prepare your kids to manage the stresses that come in the future.

Reviewed by: D’Arcy Lyness, PhD

[sinchileysincebolla-blog]

Exploring tracks and overcoming stereotypes

I’ve always been fascinated by Scandinavian countries. It could probably be traced to the fact that I come from a place where 30° degrees is the regular temperature for the most part of the year. But it could also be because two personalities ago, when I was a hipster, I began listening to Swedish and Danish bands. I was too attracted to the vibe and lyrics. And their languages! What’s with all the ¨ and ° above their letters and consonants in words?

Of course the stereotypes also reinforced my attraction to those cold places. I like Scandinavian aesthetic in housing interior; I like the fact that they pay attention to their look; and apparently they have been doing a good job with their society organization because Scandinavian countries are on top of ranks such as happiness and well-being. And let’s not forget the good-looking people stereotype. But I am not that superficial as this whole paragraph made me sound.

For this spring break, my study association organized a study trip to Stockholm in Sweden. I immediately got excited about it. It would be my first time visiting one of the countries that I’ve been so interested. We would visit the KTH Royal Institute of Technology and work on study cases for the pretty interesting companies tellus.news and Plantagon.  From 18th to 26th of February memories, experiences, and inside jokes were made. I will briefly describe my days getting to know Stockholm in accompanied with wonderful people. I would probably write a series of short stories that this trip inspired. 

                                                You are here

Stockholm trip log:

Day 1: Departure. I was in the dutchies van. Seven Dutchies and a Mexican. I would definitely sharp my dutch during this trip (spoiler alert: among other words I learnt gezonheid which is the “bless you” for when someone sneezes). We had hamburgers in Hamburg. We crossed the Danish border. The first thing I noticed was the illumination. A lot of lights. It even seemed like going into a night club, but nope, Danes just like lights that much. On the road, I noticed again the logos of business and how well illuminated they were. Then the trees and lakes. They reminded me of crime scenes settings on mystery books or crime series. 

                                   Reaching the Danish border

Day 2: We reached Stockholm in the morning. After checking in the hostel we went exploring the city. We visited the nearest church: Sta. Klara kyrka. The architecture reminded me of the dutch churches I’ve been to, and lately I read that it was indeed a dutch architect behind the planning. Then we went to Old Town. First superficial stereotype was broken: <superficial view>“where are the good looking people?! is it because is Sunday?”</superficial view> I expected a runway of tall blonde people, but again, #stereotypes. Who creates and spreads these views? And how do we buy them? This was a silly superficial stereotype, but what else is there assumed and not explored? 

We had dinner at an amazing place named “Chutney”. It was a vegan restaurant where I had the best burguer and potatoes of my life. Usually I don’t remember burguers but this one was memorable. Probably I just miss eating burguers. But it was really good. I also had my first encounter with the pitchers of natural water with fruits that I would keep drinking during the week at different places and restaurants. Water is free and delicious. We went back to the hostel and my first impression of Stockholm was thinking of it as a big city with a lot of stores but with buildings like the Postal Palace of Mexico city everywhere.

                                           Water and architecture

Day 3: During the morning we visited the National History Museum. My favourite sections were the dinousaurs, the local flora and fauna, the evolution section and the human body section. In these last sections I felt as if I was looking in a mirror. I liked that there were a lot of kids at the museum. Second steorytipe was broken: wasn’t this a country of elderly? (Spoiler: later a local friend would clarify that they indeed have this problem in cities more to the north, and the reason that I noticed many kids and pregnant women was because I was in a big city, where most of the jobs are and therefore people live. Here some statistics.) 

At noon the tellus.news team presented their case. They did a really cool and professional presentation. People from tellus were genuinely interested in the worked presented and it was a good feeling to experience how philosophical perspectives can help to the development of meaningful experiences. For lunch we had tacos with the tellus team at “La neta”. I certify that they were really good and are close to an experience in a mexican taquería. Salsas and totopos included.

Later in the night we went for a beer at a local bar. The most expensive beer of my life. 65 kroner = around 6.5 euro = around 150 mexican pesos (though the average beer would be 80 kroner in most places). It was good though and the company was the best. I got to know more of my pals and they got to know me and it was a good feeling. 

I stole a flyer from a street. Thanks to my partner in crime. Now I have a memento from Stockholm in my room and a story to tell.

                                             Tacos in La Neta

Day 4: We experienced a snow storm. We had to take the metro to reach the KTH university. We were received and introduced to Profr. Babbi Frödig. Then we met Profr. Sven Ove Hansson and discussed the relevance of philosophy and its relation to other disciplines. Philosophy seems to be a discipline we cannot explain. When people ask me, “so what do you do as a philosopher of science and technology?” Depending on the context, I usually go with the “I do technology assessment” card or “Have you seen Black Mirror? I basically write those episodes or prevent them to happen”. On a more academic response I would refer to this publication of Profr. Sven. We later discussed information privacy moderated by Björn Lundgren, who shared his PhD research. The take home message: the battle is lost but still, data is not necessarily reliable data. It may lead to false positives due to the nature of its complexity. But at least we could be aware of what is at stake and consider the information we share.

We had dinner at “Meny”, a fancy restaurant near the KTH metro station. I had rissoto, a small portion because apparently the cheese and rice came directly from Italy. If I had known this I would prefer to order the meatballs, which was a more generous dish. So now you know in case you go there. Luckily they served us a lot of bread and crackers. And the delicious water. 

After dinner we went to the Opera house. We had tickets for a ballet but we didn’t know what kind of play it would be. It turned out to be a contemporary one. My dualistic mind was challenged to appreciate this form of art. I didn’t enjoy the music because it was just noise. But I did enjoy the movements. The strength of the dancers and their discipline to come up with such assembly. It was like watching a scene from the Pina Bausch movie. I confess my lack of knowledge in relation to contemporary works, but I enjoyed the experience as a naive participant.

               Baroque room at the Opera house (photo by Patty)

Day 5: At the KTH we were introduced to the Live-in Lab project. One of their aims is to conduct research that would help to upgrade regulations in terms of dictating design to consume energy in a sustainable way. 

After the workshop we visited the architecture department and had a talk with architects. At first we were like “sooo.. philosophy of science...” “This building is nice”... “did you know that values are inscribed in technologies, and buildings?”, and from there we engaged in discussing design, ethics, sustainability, power, structures, experiences, how the tools we use influence the outcomes, etc. We learned from each other. We agreed to go for a drink afterward. We didn’t go for that drink. 

We had dinner at an oriental restaurant. My dish had different types of tofu that I haven’t taste before. I had to struggle with chopsticks.

                          KTH Royal Institute of Technology

Day 6: We visited the faculty of History at KTH. We met Profr. Sabine Höler and Johan Gardebo. They presented their research on remote sensing technologies and how we interpret the earth. PUM. Just the topic we are writing for our Technolab project. We discussed issues when translating measurements into images and compose representations. Because again, having data doesn’t mean having the information. Data needs to be processed and implications about this abound.

After lunch we visited the Visualization lab where they work with different VR technologies. We explored our home (planet Earth), the dark side of the moon, Saturn, and the universe; we reached the Big Bang and came back home. Incredible journey. 

For dinner we bought a calzone at a 7 eleven and went wandering in the city at night.

                                            Visualization Lab

Day 7: In the morning we head to Plantagon. Before we presented our case we were given a tour in their office and get to know their projects. We ate traditional swedish pastries (Semla and kanelbullar) and had coffee and tea. Not every day you are given the opportunity to present to decision makers of an important company your insights from a philosophical perspective about their developments. We all were delighted with the relevance of the information presented and got the opportunity to continue working together. 

We had the rest of the day as free time to explore the city. I wandered in the center. Visited record stores and bookshops. I ended at the dansemuseet. There was a workshop and I danced to some drums rhythms. 

Then I hung out with a local friend. We went for a cup of tea. I had a tea with framboise and lime in the biggest mug I ever hold in my hands. Later we went for dinner. Apparently there are no “swedish” restaurants in which to have “traditional” food. But they do have lots of different types of pastries. We ended in an italian restaurant. Swedish pizza is good. It was funny trying to explain to her where was the place where I had the best hamburguer of my life: “It was a sloping street. We crossed a bridge. There was water. There were posters in the street. We passed by the central station”. With that given description it could basically be anywhere in Stockholm. I felt like Marshall of HIMYM. Then we came back to the hostel and continue with our non-stop conversation. Eventually she had to leave. May we meet again.

                                                  Record store

Day 8: Checking out of the hostel. Last wandering in the city. I went to a comic store. I got some second hand books: a vikings book for kids, the tao te ching in swedish, and a small book with images from Florence, Italy. I also got a nice small notebook and postcards with cool designs. I ate leftovers of pizza in a bench. 

We went to the History museum. The vikings exhibition was my playground. And they also had this section about historiography with lots of philosophical questions and how history is interpretation. I visited three museums in Stockholm and this one was one of my favourites. I hope I can come back for the summer, to get to know other places and all of the trees in its splendor.

We had dinner at “Prime burguer”. We started with burguers and ended with burguers. Life cycles.

                                             Historika Museum

Exploring different tracks in philosophy, self-knowledge, and overcoming stereotypes were the overarching themes for this trip. I am just grateful for being able to be part of this experience. Thanks to all who made it possible.

* Doing the dance of the contemporary play * (Inside joke)