#and i have a terrible feeling that next year might well be 20 years we've been friends

[weltonbmarsland]

A big big Happy Birthday to the lovely @asimplecord! Have a wonderful day, m'dear. I wish I had a beer to drink in your honour (as it's fecking HOT here today!), but a chilled white wine is going to have to suffice. <3

[jackson--t]

The silver tooth

This is a very small 'spinn off' from my story 'hasta mañana' on AO3. Where Heahmund has fun dragging the handcuffed Ivar in a restaurant and Ivar tells Heahmund the story about his silver tooth. Happened some hours after the arrest. Might post this on AO3 aswell.

Words: ~ 2200.

Pairing: Ivar x Heahmund.

Ivar stared at Heahmund, the corners of his mouth pulled down slightly. Heahmund could see that the boy had briefly let his bright eyes slide down to the handcuffs that Heahmund had tightened under the table to keep at least one of the Mexican brat's hands fixed; it was only when the bright eyes turned sullenly and extremely angrily on Heahmund's face again that Heahmund raised his eyebrows.

"This is humiliating." Ivar snarled, but Heahmund only snorted.

"How is it more humiliating than being chained in a car, huh?" Heahmund replied; he waved to a waitress who nodded slightly at him while Ivar clicked his tongue lightly.

"Is this some American way of taking your prisoners out to dinner? What kind of shit is that?" the boy hissed venomously.

Heahmund smiled broadly. "We've been driving across the desert for several hours, and the turf where your Mexican ass belongs is just a little far away. And since you scum can't be left alone in the car - later someone will think you're a whimpering dog that has to be freed because I would have left the air conditioning off - you'll just have to eat with me. I think I'm even nice. They wouldn't even let something like you knock on the glass door."

Ivar bit his lower lip so hard that the skin turned slightly white where his incisors sank in lightly. Anger, Heahmund could see it exactly, and he loved it. They had had a long trip since Heahmund had arrested the drug lord's son - but as it was in the foothills of the Mexican desert, the nearest police station was not just around the corner.

Heahmund had known that people had reacted terribly shocked to his and Ivar's arrival - but he couldn't see himself sitting in a car with that bastard for 24 hours without eating or drinking anything. Especially since the tormentor put his damn feet down on his dashboard every two hours, the crappy white sneakers that Heahmund already hated on principle. The fact that they hurled racist expletives at each other every 20 minutes added to it. Until Heahmund had discovered this dinky little diner on the outskirts of a small desert town and had decided to make Ivar look really stupid for his own amusement and encouragement.

He knew that people knew who Ivar was. They knew rumors, like ghosts, spoken in whispers behind street corners. And even though Heahmund, as an annoyed cop, smelled treachery behind every Mexican face, he had still decided to make this stage out of sheer amusement. And he loved Ivar's hate-distorted face, the rapidly creeping blush on his cheeks as people kept staring at him. Almost like a lion in the zoo.

"I'm not hungry." Ivar growled; his lip had by now released, but his eyes were still narrowed in anger.

"Then don't eat. I honestly don't give a shit if you have something in your stomach. You're half a shirt anyway.", Heahmund replied amusedly, ordering something to drink and eat. Fortunately, the waitress spoke English; he would never have had the nerve to ask that damn bastard for a translation. And even though the waitress turned to Ivar with slightly red cheeks and asked him in a shaky voice in Spanish what he wanted to eat, Ivar didn't look away from Heahmund's face; hate, so much hate. Heahmund's limbs were tingling. The tension between them had increased since the car ride.

"Sólo agua. Eso es todo.", Ivar muttered hoarsely; the waitress nodded and disappeared. Heahmund watched her go, interrupted only by the slight snort that came between him and Ivar. The boy jutted his chin slightly.

"Do you seriously think women like her go for cops?" he said; Heahmund raised his eyebrows. He'd had a hard time getting used to Ivar's hard Spanish accent, even if it did sound exciting in some way. Like everything else in this country. But Ivar was something very special. Something very special bad that Heahmund had been working towards for years. Capturing the son of the Ragnar Lothbrok, the ghost of Mexico, was a brilliant job. He just had to drive this little bastard safely to the precinct, that was all.

"All women like cops."

"They don't."

"They sure do."

"Tss, as if! Especially on you foreigner. Women don't like traitors."

"Women don't like criminals."

Ivar leaned back slightly in the seat; his bright eyes slid over Heahmund's face, then he gave a light snort of laughter.

"Besides, I don't think you’re into women," Ivar said, and Heahmund fixed the stare of his eyes on him. The young Mexican raised his eyebrows slightly, and Heahmund snorted.

"What did you just say?"

"I said you don't like women. You're looking at me like-" Ivar interrupted; the waitress brought the drinks. And just as she was about to set the glass of water down in front of Ivar, Heahmund lightly bumped the tray with a movement, and the glass of water fell. The waitress apologized, while Ivar pressed the back of his head against the padded bench and stared angrily at Heahmund.

"Oops. My mistake. Well, the good water for the poor boy!  Get another glass, will you?" Heahmund said with a smile, and the waitress nodded after removing the grossest dirt. Ivar's eyes literally glowed as Heahmund looked at him again.

"You're an asshole."

"And you’re scum. A chilled drink like that does a world of good," Heahmund retorted; he took a big gulp from his glass of cool iced tea and tried his best to cover a wide grin in his mouth as he saw Ivar's eyes narrow.

"I hope someone shoots you soon," he said.

"You can wish for that when you're in jail, Goldy."

"Why you fucking cop call me Goldy?"

"Because of your skin."

Ivar's mouth dropped open, then shut again; his eyes swept once down Heahmund's body, and he nodded deprecatingly at the cop.

"Racist."

"With you and your family gladly."

"Oh, that was clear. I swear you're going to regret this," Ivar growled. He didn't move away when the waitress placed a new glass of water in front of him while Heahmund got a plate of food. Heahmund immediately started eating, and he noticed after a while that Ivar was looking slightly out the window. The boy did everything but look in Heahmund's direction, and chewed lightly on his lower lip.

Heahmund knew he was hungry. Since the arrest, which had been half a day ago, the boy had eaten nothing and drunk very little. The water glass was half empty, and there was a reflection of the slowly setting sun in the slightly milky glass. Heahmund stared at the glass for a while, then back at the food. He left a little left over, and after a while pushed the plate over to Ivar. "If you want, eat. You Mexicans don't throw anything away and make tacos out of everything."

Ivar's eyes rolled upward, and he snorted deeply. "Can we maybe do without your standard cop jokes about us for a change, huh? A little more civility? One could almost think you're a cop from the gutter.", Ivar snorted, and before Heahmund could take the plate away from him again, he pulled it over to him with his free hand. It wasn't much - but it was already too much by Heahmund's standard. This little rat didn't even deserve the water that was next to the plate.

Ivar ate hastily. And only when Heahmund paid the waitress and unchained Ivar from the bar under the table again, the bright eyes briefly turned to Heahmund, who took the extremely unruly boy hard by the handcuffs and led him away. It did not escape his notice that a deep shade of red was traveling down Ivar's cheeks, up to his cheekbones. He gripped tighter, even as he heard Ivar's slight snort accurately.

Heahmund chained the boy to the open window of the car door, with one arm, and with a soft exhale took a cigarette from his bulletproof vest a few feet away. It took him a while to find his lighter among the guns, pepper spray and other things, but then he lit the cigarette and took a big drag from it. Only after a while did he feel Ivar's burning gaze on him; he turned his eyes to the boy and nodded. Ivar had leaned back against the car door, his arm contorted so that he could stand reasonably well, before nodding to Heahmund as well.

"Can I bum one?" he asked, and Heahmund laughed lightly.

"Aren't you still too young for that? And more importantly, why should I?"

Ivar rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh; his bright eyes pointed at Heahmund's bulletproof vest. "Come on, I can't take another eight hours in that car with your fucking aftershave up my nose. Please."

"If you keep your sneakers off my dashboard, then yeah," Heahmund snorted; he fumbled again for the cigarettes and raised his eyebrows in annoyance.

"Sure."

He lit Ivar's cigarette. Because of the fact that they were a little closer due to the restricted movement, Heahmund could see the fine scar that stood out on Ivar's caramel-colored skin on his cheek; he also smelled it again, that damn sweet smell of copal and lavender. He wrinkled his nose slightly; something silvery flashed at him as Ivar took the first, deep drag from the cigarette and expelled it gleefully into the lukewarm air.

He had seen that silver tooth the first time he had arrested Ivar. With the roar the boy had put on, it had been hard to miss; besides, it was the tooth next to his first four incisors, quite conspicuous. Heahmund took another drag from the cigarette, then nodded over to Ivar, who eyed him the same way. The setting sun bathed everything in a warm light, which reflected perfectly like melted honey on Ivar's face.

"The tooth, that silver one." Heahmund said; he leaned against the car beside the boy, emitting a puff of smoke.

Ivar raised his eyebrows. "What about it?"

"Is that fashion? Or is that some...Mexican bullshit you guys like to do. Like your fucking tattoos."

Ivar snorted. "You have one on the back of your neck yourself, I've seen it. And no, it's not bullshit, fucking asshole." The boy shifted his position slightly; Heahmund knew that the handcuffs were actually a much tighter fit, because they left marks on Ivar's relatively thin wrist.

 "What is it then?"

Ivar was silent for a moment; he fixed his gaze on the setting sun, and again expelled a light haze of smoke.

"It's a gift. I was traveling in Mexico City once, must have been two years ago. A girl almost got hit by a truck she hadn't seen, and her parents were standing too far away. When I pulled her aside, I hit my head on a hard stone wall. My tooth fell out."

"Must have been a baby tooth." Heahmund said as two pairs of narrowed eyes locked onto him; Heahmund laughed lightly. "It's fine, sorry."

"Anyway," Ivar continued; "anyway, the little girl's parents were so grateful to me that they offered to correct it. The father was a dentist. It's white gold, it was worth more than the damn practice. He said actually he had wanted to save that silver tooth for a specific occasion in his own life. But he said his daughter's life was absolutely worth it. And I've had that tooth ever since. It always reminds me of what happened there."

Heahmund exhaled. For a moment, he didn't know what to say - which was extremely rare in his life. He had arrested Ivar to get to his father with him. He wanted to bust the whole family, this whole cartel - but he hadn't expected anything like this. And he wondered for a moment if he should even believe Ivar, because after all he was part of this corrupt and violent family. This merry-go-round of violence and drug dealing, of murders and illegal activities.

But when Heahmund turned his gaze to Ivar, who was still staring towards the sun, the back of his neck prickled slightly. He saw exactly the slight bulge under Ivar's skin at the mouth, the tender bulge, a clear indication that the boy was just running his tongue over the said silver tooth, obviously thinking back to that experience. So, scum could also do good.

Bright eyes locked on Heahmund, and the two looked at each other for a moment. The rays of the sun made Ivar's eyes seem almost silver, and Heahmund's throat went terribly dry for a moment. Pure silver, beautiful, wild silver. Forbidden silver.

"Once I see your dirty sneakers on the dashboard, I'll kick them out the window myself," he said darkly, and Ivar clicked his tongue.

"You would miss me, asshole."

"Tss. No more than you miss rats after they bite you."

"Charming, cop."

"Shut up, dirty little bastard, and you keep your mouth shut on the ride. I don't want to hear a word."

Ivar snorted slightly, and as Heahmund released his handcuffs from the door and almost roughly shoved the boy into the car, their eyes met again.

"Not a word, bastard."

"Pendejo, you fucking gringos are all the same."

That damn accent. Heahmund almost had to bite his fist as he walked to his side of the car to stop the tingling and fire in his veins. After all, he could never and would never allow someone like Ivar to get too close to him.

@youbloodymadgenius (ehm was it really everything written? 😂🙈)

[saranghanuuu]

7 SIGNS THAT YOU HAVE TRUE FRIENDS - as taught by Hospital Playlist!

1. Good Friends Accept You for Who You Are

2. Friends Stick Around During the Good Times and the Bad

3. A Real Friend Celebrates Life With You

4. True Friends Will Make the Time to See You

5. A Real Friend Will Tell You the Truth, Even If You Don’t Like

6. A True Friend Encourages You to Achieve Your Goals

7. A Real Friend Helps Us Feel Comfortable in Our Own Skin

Hah~ Hospital Playlist ended and it's like a part of me has been taken away, enough to make me feel empty. This drama officially made it to my list of fave Korean dramas and so far, my highly recommended this 2020. There are a bunch of lovely things about Hospital Playlist worth remembering - a feel-good drama about friendship, all forms of love, and career - not to mention those wonderful, relatable OSTs to top them all off. Reminiscing all these makes me emotional. So in order for me to cope up with the showhole, I watched this drama again. And guess what? Watching Hospital Playlist for the second time made me uncover interesting things among seemingly trivial matters. I'm now even more intrigued about season 2 next year slash whole year of suffering in waiting ㅠㅠ

Things I'm looking out for in season 2:

Winter Garden relationship progress - Knowing that Jeongwon and Gyeoul are innocent with the matters of the heart, I'm aching to know their level of crazy towards each other. Isn't it impressive that they commenced their love with a kiss? What's there to it as the romance deepens? They've been holding their feelings back for a long time and it's now ready to explode! Merely thinking about this makes me go... 🤭😍

Ikjun-Songhwa-Chi Hong - As we know, the writer-director duo of this drama is notorious for blowing the viewers' minds about who the characters will end up with. It's highly likely that they'll do this again with the Ikjun-Songhwa-Chi Hong love triangle. We've been hinted on season 1 that Ikjun and Songhwa are each other's first love's. There are lingering feelings for sure, knowing that Songhwa neither accepted nor rejected Ikjun's advances and eventual confession. But with the addition of Chi Hong in the middle, what would make it different? My shares are for keeps on Ikjun until next year ('coz why not him? I am for the bestfriend of 20 years of course!) But who knows? I might sell them for Chi Hong depending on the situation ㅋㅋㅋ

Junwan and Iksun's love might... Bear a child? - I know this is shocking, but I'm not saying this without basis. I think their scene on episode 8 won't be there for nothing. Yeah... I may be wrong. But we are aware that Junwan dreams to marry Iksun. They're also very much worried making a long distance relationship work out. What if it's cut short due Iksun's sudden pregnancy? Will this cause Iksun to finally believe in marriage? I also can't wait to see Ikjun's reaction once he knows about this. He won't stand still HAHAHA

Seokhyung, Minha, and the ex-wife - I am finding Seokhyung's situation to be the most complicated among 99즈. Seokhyung obviously cares for Minha, but afraid to do anything as he's been too much wounded. Minha likes him, yes, but is she willing to wholeheartedly accept him and his painful past? Also, that last scene on season 1. Why is ze ex-wife calling him? Well knowing Seokhyung (in the drama, not personally ㅋㅋㅋ), there is no chance for reconciliation. However, will the ex-wife intervene between Seokhyung and Minha? That is a possibility, especially since Seokhyung feels terribly sorry for her.

What I'll miss the most about Hospital Playlist:

The band sessions

Ikjun's funny antics

Songhwa and Junwan's mukbang sesh, and Gyeoul's too

Jeongwon's drumming skills putting boom boom into my heart (♬You send my soul sky high when your lovin' starts♬)

Seokhyung's ob-gyn/outpatient scenes. I love them for some reason haha. I wonder what if Songhwa gets pregnant next season. Will he go to Seokhyung for consultation?

Ikjun and Junwan's bromance. They might turn into bro's-in-law in season 2!

Songhwa's vocal (though some may not warrant it to be called v o c a l but still ㅋㅋㅋ)

The residents of Yulje Hospital, especially Do Jae Hak. I can totally relate to him on episode 12.

Drama seasons aren't my thing. I will not get used to it. But for Hospital Playlist, I'm making an exception. CAN'T WAIT TO SEE YOU AGAIN NEXT YEAR!

[thejoshuaglenn-blog]

You're a Good Boy, Charlie Brown

The key purpose of a Tumblr blog here is really a brain dump: logging thoughts, feelings, narrative and such is easier in long form than via a brief Facebook post that generates half a dozen "oh no, what happened" comments. As I'm writing this, most of it seems like bullet points and organized timelines. If you're looking for a TL;DR or current state of thoughts, it's the last section titled The Day After, and the Day After That.

A few days ago, Niko and I said goodbye to our first dog, Charlie Brown.

I'm not keen to chat about it a lot. There's more to process than I have time to type; most of it centers around being fair to myself and to Niko, taking the time to appreciate his life without beating ourselves up, and avoiding the overwhelming mire that grief can become.

Joining the Family

CB was a rescue, a hapless victim of the 2016 Louisiana floods and a happy-go-lucky participant in a "dog for a day" event hosted by a local shelter. I fully expected to rent him out for a day, give him a few great experiences, and return him. For myriad reasons, we never did bring him back to Pet Rescue by Judy, and he's been with us ever since.

At adoption, he was estimated to be around 4-8 years old. With a kicked-in shoulder that offset his collarbone and ribcage, some assorted dental issues, and other little signs of damage (cigarette burns, what the heck is wrong with people), it was tough to really gauge his age. That means he left this world at the ripe old age of something like 9-13, which isn't terrible considering all he'd been through.

Charlie Brown was the iconic good boy. He seldom barked, he never licked or jumped, and just wanted to be in the same room as his favorite people. He had a few toys that he cherished, never ripping them up, just carrying them with him from room to room and whining a bit, unsure of where he could store them for safekeeping. Apart from some separation anxiety issues and an occasional urge to bolt out the door and book it as far as he could, CB was by all accounts an easy first dog: more like a low-effort cat than anything else.

Slowly Falling Apart

Over time, the health issues increased. Intermittent but predictably regular upset tummy. Bad gums, bad teeth. Random gooey skin lesion. Eye ulcers. Since October, we've been averaging 2-3 unplanned vet visits a month — many incurring some hefty bills. We'd take out another credit card, find another financing plan, but it adds up. So does the emotional toil on the family; so does the anxiety toll on the dog.

You start to think about quality of life for the dog, you know? He'd had a few teeth removed to sew up his gums after they kinda detached and fell apart from his jawbone — so he couldn't chew anything hard. Couldn't even chew a tennis ball, which was the only toy he took interest in anymore. Couldn't have any fun treats like peanut butter or other soft chews, as his tummy would have bad flare-ups that usually ended up with him attached to an IV bag. After finally settling in and learning to play well with Atlas, Charlie Brown started to get pretty irritable whenever Atlas got frisky.

He still loved running around outdoors, and was in otherwise great health.

I can't tell you how guilty that makes me feel, even now.

Moving to Waltham

Before we left Orlando, there were so many crisis moments in emergency vet offices where Niko and I talked about how long he could ride this roller coaster. CB obviously was not a fan of vet visits: loved the staff, but was notably anxious and panicky when separated from us, and he had grown very loathe to the process of poking, prodding, and whatnot.

Shortly after moving to Waltham (he was a champ in the U-Haul), Charlie Brown had a severe colitis flare-up. He was losing so much fluid and was growing very lethargic over the day. Vets are hard to get into these days: with the sweep of "pandemic puppy" adoptions, the vet industry as a whole is saturated with demand, and practices are responding as best they can. There were just no emergency clinics available to us within 20 miles, except one that noted "we have no availability, but you can come and wait, and we might be able to see you in 4 or 5 hours." So we did.

It was a very late night. Charlie Brown came home with us with another round of the same antibiotics he'd been taking almost regularly since December for his assorted ailments, and some probiotics. The next day, CB seemed a bit better and brighter, and Niko and I went into the city for part of the day. We came home to find he'd had an accident, but it was just... blood. So so much. And he looked so in pain, so ashamed, so guilty, so anxious.

So we went back to the vet ER. It was another very late night. I didn't know how many of these late nights we could afford; neither of us knew how many of these late nights it was fair to expect Charlie Brown to endure.

Do you plan on letting a pet go after an extended crisis visit? Do you plan on letting a pet go in a time of relative peace?

Camping Analogy, and a Best Last Day

When you're off on a long hike, and you see daylight start to fade as the sun begins to set, you begin to think about finding a good place to set up camp for the night. It's abysmal to do this after the sun has already gone down: where you could have had preparation and structure, you have chaos by flashlight.

A dog's life is in your hands. You're his whole world: all food, adventure, pampering, challenge, treatment, and care come from you. More than anything, we wanted Charlie Brown to have a peaceful, restful life. Now that we started thinking about it, we wanted to be able to give him a peaceful, restful passing as well: not as the climax of another overnight crisis with injections and yelps and beeps and cowering and anxiety and fear, but in the still quiet of familiar sounds and smells.

His very last day was a great one. Fresh Pond in Cambridge: a massive stroll around a colossal lake with an absurd bounty of new smells, kind people, happy dogs, and a brisk New England breeze. He got to swim in a little side pond — that boy lived for jumping into random lakes. He ran around the broad field that is Kingsley Bowl, chasing a thrown ball the very very farthest his sad pop could throw it — and he brought it back. We bought him a steak. We told him how much he brought to our lives.

And then we waited.

Lap of Love is a sort of home delivery service of dignified passing for pets. There's more to say on that hour than I care to pen, but throughout the procedure, we never left him. Charlie Brown passed enveloped in our arms and laps and sobs and hugs.

The Day After, and the Day After That

The rest is just thoughts. Your head starts to feel like a coffee shop where your grief comes in, sits at a table with you, and unloads. You nod, listen, and wish them well. I hope I can keep processing this way — I find it helpful, and less overwhelming.

I wish he had been able to play with his tennis ball more. Since his jaw surgery — even out on Kingsley Bowl, nearly a month and a half after he should have been fully healed — any kind of chewing would cause renewed bleeding and pain.

I wish we had hugged him more. But truth be told, he didn't like hugs. They made him uncomfortable. So we gave him a hand to lay his head on, or a knee for him to pop his head upon, as often as he liked.

There were so many times I felt inconvenienced by owning a dog at all. They weren't the majority, but... now each remembered time feels like a splinter of selfishness.

I miss how familiar the back of his neck felt under my hand, just behind the ears, where the waves of fur meet and crash and make a long cowlick of foof and fluff.

His happy smile and his stressed smile were very similar, but you could still tell which was which.

I loved being there for him in thunderstorms.

When you think about it, we sort of were hospice care for him. We weren't his original owners; we just wanted the rest of his life to be painless and fulfilling. He had so many trust issues when he first came to us. And in the end, he loved anyone he met.

I miss feeling around with my feet to make sure I don't step on him on my way to bed. I miss setting my feet on the floor as I wake, stooping down, and giving his head a good squishy rub.

He never did get to see Boston snow. I mean... thousands of dogs never get to see snow. But I was really looking forward to sharing that experience with him.

I wanted so badly to bring him to a point of health, and then say goodbye when he was feeling well. Seeing him have his Best Last Day, part of me whispered "murderer" with cold accuracy, and I have a hard time shaking it. He was so happy — but between jaw bleeding after playing with a tennis ball, seeing him scratch his eyes that were starting to ache with ulcers again... I know the unbridled happiness came with the reality of his declining health.

Atlas was the best thing that ever happened to that boy. I know Charlie Brown was at least a little disgruntled that his easy-going day-to-day had been interrupted by a chompy puppy, but Atlas brought out the young pup in CB: ripping palm fronds to shreds, playing tug, playing tag, meeting new dogs with confidence and assurance.

I used to get so mad at my mother-in-law for feeding Charlie Brown cinnamon donuts. I wish I'd given him more. Heck, I wish I'd given him more peanut butter. I'm frankly surprised he hadn't died of peanut butter overdose years ago.

Where Charlie's health had limits, we kept going with Atlas. That might mean taking Atlas out to play with a ball or a tug toy, because CB couldn't. It breaks my heart now to think of Charlie at the glass door just watching it happen, all because he physically couldn't play the same. I know he didn't understand that.

We took him out to Park Ave maybe once or twice. I wish it had been more. Truth be told, it was the same as the dog park, though: he was kind of a loner. Loads of people or dogs made him anxious. So while I might idealize the past and wish he had sat at our legs for lunch after lunch at an outdoor thoroughfare, ... I think he would have been miserable. I think he would have rather just curled up at the base of the couch and dozed while we watched a show.

He was so trusting. I could just drag him onto his back and onto my lap for cuddles and a good tummy rub. No complaints.

He looked so gaunt these past few months. I keep looking at earlier photos, and I really didn't realize just how grizzly and drawn he had become lately.

I miss seeing him randomly waiting for me outside the bathroom door — or curled up on the bath mat while I was in the shower, having sneakily nosed the door open and wanting my company while I was rinsing.

For his first few years with us, he was incredibly playful. I've been going through old videos — it's like going outside just blew his mind, and toys were either for cherishing daintily, or thrashing about and throwing to oneself and gnawing. He lost that after a time. He regained it a bit when Atlas joined the party. But it still faded. I'm sure that's inevitable, but it makes me sad to see the early vibrant puppy in those old recordings, and how different he had been in recent months.

[aterryben]

20 Things To Look Forward to If You're Turning 60 in 2020

Milestone birthdays are often emotional: It's plunging into unknown territory while not a roadmap. however, if you are turning sixty in 2020, you've got heaps to seem forward to—some of that you'll have unreal of for years or maybe decades (hello, fully grown youngsters and retirement on the horizon), and different edges you may not even have thought-about nevertheless. therefore congratulations on your birthday, as a result of it's close to getting terribly, very good.

Here area unit twenty things to seem forward to if you are turning sixty in 2020, from people World Health Organization area unit already living it… and lovesome it.

1You've already raised your children, therefore currently you'll target you.

After decades of packing lunches, carpooling, and paying attention to backseat quarrel, your 60s tend to be the parent stage of life. And in any case that tough work raising your children and seeing the superb individuals they've become, this new decade could be a time to target yourself. "I have worked arduous therefore everybody else may have their best life and currently it's my time," says LSMB Business Solutions' Linda Murray Bullard, World Health Organization simply turned sixty. "With the kids all fully grown, and a few with youngsters of their own, I will do what is best on behalf of me."

Absolute Pilates Upstairs owner Conni Ponturo says it is also an excellent age to pay time with those very little ones in your life while the not constant level of responsibility. "[We can] get pleasure from the younger generations as a result of we tend to area unit less stressed regarding raising children," she says. "We will take a step back and see our grandchildren or youngsters normally with way more patience."

2You will reinvent yourself professionally, or finally retire.

When you are sixty, there aren't any rules on what step your career path should take next: you'll either like better to head toward retirement, dig deeper in your role, or maybe pivot in an associate degree altogether new direction.

"I have learned regarding things I ne'er knew I might get to grasp," says Elizabeth inexperienced, the owner of NYC's sea bird restaurant—which she bought and opened once age sixty. "The ride has been exciting, stressful, and empowering. All of those feelings strike a chord in me that I'm still packed with life, and also the potentialities area unit endless."

3You intrepidly own your body image.

Whether you select to age naturally or with cosmetic enhancements is absolutely up to you, and there are no wrong thanks to mate. "Hot yoga keeps American state work," says fitness professional Susan Gold, World Health Organization turns sixty in 2020. "I've not done an issue to medically alter my body. I even have no intention of doing therefore as I would like to understand the World Health Organization I'm as I age."

4You've attained power and authority.

At 60, you recognize you do not want permission to raise what you want—and you recognize the way to establish a commanding position to induce it. "I will approach any state of affairs from a sense of power and authority," says 61-year-old professional person and eudaimonia professional Henry M. Robert S. Herbst. "I am the right age to induce respect, however not therefore frail that I'm seen as a weak, old man. tie-up, I'm going to sit down with the cop. airdrome delay, I speak to the gate agent. Family sickness, speak with the doctor. With polite confidence, I will get data and results."

5You create your own rules.

What does one need to do once you flip 60? Well, no matter what you would like. "I dress in what I like—there's no age-appropriate apparel," inexperienced says of her life currently. "All the foundations that I either poor or let guide American state [no longer] apply."

6You're during a nice position to be a mentor.

When you reach sixty, you've got learned lots of lessons from expertise, and your hard-won knowledge is often golden for individuals whose future you care regarding.

"I do not very care regarding impressing others to induce ahead, as I already think about myself having arrived," says Ponturo. "I see myself currently as additional of the mentor than the mentee, though I do not suppose one ever stops learning."

Louise Sattler, the digital deviser for Silver Influencer Travel, adds, "Mentoring younger individuals could be a gift that we will share—helping younger individuals rise to their potential."

7You acumen to ride the waves.

In your younger years, you may have felt derailed by life's inevitable challenges, however, once you reach sixty, you've got navigated enough of them to be more leisurely with the method. And you recognize from expertise that powerful days inevitably subside to raised ones.

"Many folks area unit warriors," Sattler notes. "We have survived powerful elements of life—including, in my case, cancer."

Ponturo adds, "Hindsight is our friend currently. we will see the ups and downs of life way more. we all know even once times area unit troublesome, they will rise once more as a result of we tend to perceive the ebb and flow of our life."

8You relax your inhibitions.

If you were consumed in earlier decades with pleasing people and orthodox to expected norms, sixty could want a very liberating chance of leaving behind all of that.

"It's a tragic truth that for a few individuals it will take this long to induce comfy in their skins, however, there is one thing to be aforesaid for sixty being the start of the new you," says Caleb Backe, certified life coach and private trainer for Maple Holistics. "Your accumulated life expertise has instructed you that you just will hold onto what is necessary and peacefully leaving behind of the remainder. this suggests quiet your inhibitions, finally learning to like yourself, and acceptive yourself for World Health Organization you are—regardless of what others say or suppose."

9You have longer, and you maximize it.

Less responsibility for packing faculty lunches and speeding around to regular activities currently means that additional of it slow is your own again—and you've got a substantive perspective on what that means that.

"You've spent your life operating arduous, which implies that [at 60] you finally get to maximize all that point you ne'er had," Backe says. "Find one thing that you are addicted to however ne'er found time for and select it. you may be feeling like time is suddenly additional precious than it once was, that is that the excellent reason to start out increasing it. whether or not that is seeing the globe, discovering a replacement hobby, or going back to high school, turning sixty could be a friendly reminder to take a position in it slow."

10You can be having the simplest sex of your life.

Did you ever suppose you may have the simplest sex of your life once 60? Believe it. And there area unit heaps of reasons why it makes excellent sense. "You do not have to fret regarding obtaining pregnant, and sex is often fun and liberating," Ponturo says. "If we've been could be a long wedding, there's a respect, deep love, friendship, and deep caring, and sexual freedom for each other."

11You acumen to mention no.

Acquiescing to everybody's requests and expectations is exhausting, and it is often lots unsuccessful. But by 60, you've got learned to let heaps of that go, and it's liberating.

"No one will tell American state what to try and do," notes Nunzio Ross, co-owner of splendor low. "Do I would like to travel to a celebration with constant recent people? No. If I would like to go away early from an event, I will. I do not get forced into a picture show that I don't desire to examine. I am not about to drink simply because of people's area unit drinking. language no is much easier."

12And you do not care what individuals suppose.

Saying no is additionally easier once you've got learned, finally, that your wants need to take priority. At 60, you may finally have stopped caring what people place confidence in your selections, and area unit comfy swing yourself 1st without concern regarding their judgment.

"I say what I would like without worrying about others' opinions," Ross adds. "I have additional freedom to try and do some wacky, even freaky, activities. the concern of being embarrassed has almost nonexistent. I am additional friendly, sit down with individuals additional, have additional interaction and delight with others, while not rehearsing what I am about to say."

13You place less pressure on yourself.

Just as you care less currently regarding what others suppose, you may realize sixty is once you stop feeling pressure from yourself, too. "You area unit additional relaxed in your life and also the pressure to form stuff happen is not there," Ponturo says. "But attributable to that ease in your life, you're to some extent wherever you'll flip your ideas into reality."

14And you are kinder to yourself.

Past 60, you may realize you've got relieved informed such a lot of negative self-talk from years before. Ponturo appreciates the area during this era to "talk regarding our bodies amorously, kindness, and respect. Use solely empowering words to talk regarding yourself."

15You take pleasure in the feeling.

Gratitude is also millennials' favorite nonsensicality, however, it isn't perpetually straightforward to embrace in observe once you are younger. By 60, you may realize experiencing feeling simply comes additional naturally, without having to line aside time, or a journal, for dedicated observe.

"The smartest thing regarding turning sixty is that my soul is full and shining and that I feel grateful for all that I even have been blessed to accomplish in life," says author Bracha Goetz. "I do not feel driven to induce heaps additional done, therefore currently I will appreciate singular moments, pause throughout the day, and whereas still in physiological state, target active feeling."

16You notice it is a nice time to induce work.

No, there is completely no reason why you ought to hand over on your body once sixty. It's going to be the right time to induce within the best form of your life. "Modern advances in health and fitness means that being 60-plus could be a nice time to induce slim, get fit, and obtain a replacement lease of life," says health and eudaimonia coach Richard Strauss. "I did it at sixty-four, and I am fitter and in higher form than after I was in my 30s. Sixty are often the new time to reinvent yourself."

17You acknowledge aging could be a privilege.

Platitudes aside, aging is often mortifying and even shuddery, of course. however, what is the alternative? By sixty, you appreciate the prospect to stay enjoying life—never mind the aches and pains. "I love my 60s as a result of the choice isn't lost on American state," Ponturo says. "I hold dear my health and my well-being through movement and meditation. I take daily and realize the thrill in daily moments."

18You've developed deep friendships, and you appreciate them.

At this stage, you may be lucky to own friends World Health Organization have stood by you for many years, demonstrating their love and loyalty over and over. and that is an unbelievable privilege, one you do not possible see granted at sixty. "Our friendships area unit deeper and richer attributable to time," Ponturo says.

19You do not concern failure.

Ross describes a sense of freedom to fail that he did not expertise in his younger days. "My perspective towards success and failure has shifted," he says. "Try one thing new and fail—so what? does not get to the American state adore it accustomed. [I have the] freedom to undertake new things while not the concern of consequences."

20You will create sixty no matter what you would like it to be.

When you flip sixty, you recognize that expectations for your age group—or any age group—are very simply senseless constructs. it is time for you to do one, and embrace it!

"Stop sporting chinos and boat shoes: you've got no written agreement obligation to become your father," says 60-year-old Dwayne J. Clark, co-founder, and chief operating officer of the Aegis Living aided living communities. "Don't fall prey to what you think that aging is meant to be."

[iamcinema]

IAC Reviews #19: Wishbone (2000)

Hey, is anyone still alive out there? I hope so.

Coming off of last year was a disaster, and well, we didn't enter 2021 on the highest of notes. I guess you could say I've been burned out and not having a ton of motivation to do a lot, even with how much I've been grinding on Letterboxd over the past few months. I think I'm ready to come back, and since there's a storm is brewing outside, let's make today a movie night...and boy, do I have a treat for you.

I think I've made it kind of apparent that I have a weakness for terrible, low-budget, trash fires. There's something oddly charming about them where they always find a way to lure me in, and given the scene on Letterboxd, there's a bunch of SOV masochists out there waiting to get their next fix. While digging around for material to cross off my lists on titles to find and add, I was reminded of a terrible, low-budget film that was shot in my hometown over 20 years ago. I'm full of fear for what's to come, and you should be too.

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Wishbone is a 2000 horror film directed by Timothy Gaer and co-created by Michael Fasciana, centering on a woman named Laurie who receives an unusual artifact from her eccentric aunt she acquired from a pawn dealer that causes those around her to disappear when they make wishes on it. Hmm, seems simple enough. Let's what we're in for, and I'm absolutely not ready because the IMDb page says this shit is over two hours long, despite a version on Youtube having it just a bit over 90 minutes. Let us pray.

Wishbone in One Gif:

This acting is might be the death of me, but I'm not sure what's going to be the catalyst that causes me to fall down the stairs and break my neck: the sound quality, the weird editing, or the music...oh, god what the fuck is the music doing? So much noise, noise noise!

Okay, so let's dig into this before I take too long of a break and I don't come back to this. I've already had to pause the movie a few times to catch my breath or just rewind and go back because there's a good amount that I keep missing because, apparently, the star of the film is the score and not Laurie. This is so, so slow. I've seen a lot of long horror movies, but at least with those, it feels like things are happening. Even Blood Lake had filler that did something to some degree, and with that, it was consistently bad. This movie doesn't even know what it wants to do. So, as a disclaimer, there's a good chance I'm probably missing some key details that I didn't hear because it seems that characterization isn't important if the music insists on talking over everyone.

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So, to date, this might be one of the worst horror movies (and movies in general) that I've ever seen and it might be one of the slowest things in the entire megaverse. This is over 90 minutes of, somehow, nothing and something happening simultaneously - if that makes any sense.

This takes its sweet ass time moving along and there's so little pay-off. The majority of the characters are either nameless or we aren't introduced to them in a way that matters enough for us to care about them. It's kind of like with Violent Shit and other low-budget slasher films where the majority of the characters serve no purpose but to be disposable. Next to the two main leads, Laurie and Joe, and maybe a few others, everyone is just forgettable and even then I couldn't honestly tell you anyone's name if it was explicitly brought up. IMDb isn't helpful either, and at this point it just makes me care even less. I'm not sure if my patience has been tested too much with this, but it's kind of sad that I'm more invested in seeing what the background characters are doing than Laurie and Joe - even though I can't really hear what the hell they're saying.

Yeah, I really can't move on without talking about the sound and the music. Why is it always the audio with these movies? This has an estimated budget of $100,000, or $154,779.43 today in August 2021. How do you have the ability to somehow not make this look like a potato for the most part, well for the day shots that is, but you don't have it in you to get a good mic and someone who knows how to mix and edit correctly? I would sort of understand if you spent the majority of the money on talent to cut corners, but this is just ridiculous. Did they use the cameras' built-in mics to catch the audio here?

I feel like I need to interrupt the movie constantly to tell them to speak up because if I turn up the volume, I'm just getting bombarded with this really weird soundtrack that doesn't fit. I shit you not, during one of the kill scenes, the music booming over it sounds like it was ripped from Kevin MacLeod's "lounge" library and then the reverse happens where ominous music is playing over a more touching scene - and that's not even a dig at Kevin as an artist. That's just how inappropriate and unfitting this editing is. The weird fucking thing about this specific kill scene is that it sounds like the audio is stacked, so there are two different instrumental tracks going on.

How do you fuck something as basic as tension up like that? The audio choices are so painfully inconsistent and it doesn't know what it wants to do. There are moments where you can hear the dialogue just fine, but then the music comes in out of nowhere to segway us into the next scene and it starts to muffle things out. If it isn't that, then the dialogue is just so soft that you'd think there was a pillow on the mic or we're hearing them from the opposite side of a sound-dampened room.

This is what I meant earlier when I said I apologize in advance if I miss anything crucial because I can't make out half of these conversations. So, I'm having to keep going back if I care enough or just having to pause and take breaks because there's only so much I can handle. This means that there's a good amount I'll blank on because I have to keep going back because I can't remember the majority of these no-named characters. Who the fuck are you people? Why am I supposed to care?

If I'm understanding the non-existent rules of the wishbone, you're connected to whoever dies in some way. So, why is any of this relevant to what's going on? If it's random, then it's another reason for me not to care just because some frat kids made a wish at some point. Again, who the hell are you and why am I supposed to lament over them? Why is there so much useless filler here? Did I mention that this is over 90 minutes long and there are *three* fucking party scenes? Party scenes are to Wishbone as ten-minute-long jetskiing and beer game scenes are to Blood Lake.

Oh, speaking of other shit that's annoying. Let's talk about general editing because the sound isn't the only thing that's a mess here.

I swear that almost every single scene in this ends with a fade-out/fade-in shot. Only one or two scenes come to mind where this doesn't happen, and the first time it did I thought my browser was freezing because it abruptly cut to black and then smash cuts to a party scene. I've never, ever seen a movie that abused this that much before and it's on par with something I would have seen made by a bunch of high school kids. So, when we have a moment where this doesn't happen and it plays out normally, it feels like a breath of fresh air. I'm sure this movie's run time could have been shaved down by at least a minute or two if this wasn't a problem, along with all the useless close-up shots that serve nothing to the plot.

It's such a waste of time. I'm so fucking tired. How was this movie's budget $100k? Did they spend most of it on renting the Scranton Police Department for a few shots or did it go towards their impromptu trip to Party City? I'm so tired and I don't care anymore.

Do you want to know what the real kicker is? With just barely twenty minutes left, the whole lore about the monkey's wishbone paw comes back and that's when Laurie and her friend Karen think something is weird. Isn't this whole realization trope that happens within the first or second act, not now with your Great Value brand version of the Dream Warriors?

Also, it's not specified how much time has gone by since the start, but it has to have been at least a week or two. It's incredibly weird how they paint the main characters and the unnamed background ones as such good friends that they don't think it's weird how almost all of them have disappeared - especially one girl who doesn't seem off-put that her boyfriend (or ex) disappeared after getting into an argument at one of the parties and none of his friends could reach him either at his own house.

The final showdown is an utter pain in the ass to get through because the conflict ends as abruptly as it starts and it's so unsatisfying. We get to see the face of our villain, I guess, and then more or less cut to our leads holding hands down the street set to the same looping lounge music we've been dealing with for over 90 damn minutes. Is everyone else who went with them dead? Did they live? Who cares! That's one thing the movie and I can agree on since we never see them again. We end on a shitty cliffhanger that's supposed to prepare us for a sequel, which thankfully never happened.

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And that was Wishbone. Holy fucking shit, I've never been so thankful for a movie to be over in my life. It's 11:07 PM as of tinkering with some minor revisions and I've been in purgatory with this for over five hours, and yet, it feels like an entire lifetime has gone by.

I've raved about how bad Blood Lake was with its incredibly bad pacing, but this is next level awful and a testament to bad filmmaking if I've ever seen it. I expect a lot of the things I complained about from super amateur filmmakers who are shooting on an actual shoestring budget, not people who had that much money to fuck around with. How did they have that kind of a budget, and the most they can give us is bad audio, Windows Movie Maker levels of basic editing, three wrap parties, and a few crumbs of gore that we could see?

This was physically painful to see and I'm in much worse shape having endured it than I would have been if I sat through something liked Boardinghouse, and that has a two-and-a-half-hour-long version tied to it. This is just a marvel and I mean that in a so-bad-it's-bad way, not like how SOV enthusiasts who love this stuff pine over. If I had to give one thing going for it, one single granule of gold that I enjoyed from this, it's the limited shots we get of the area so I could make a game out of seeing what local spots I recognized. If playing I Spy is the only way for someone to endure your movie, then I don't know what else to say.

Wishbone is a hot mess where shit's happening, but also nothing is happening at the same time. I wouldn't wish this on anyone. In fact, I wish this movie never existed or would die in the ether and never return to our mortal realm ever again. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go have a smoke and hope I don't get run over by a hearse tomorrow.

RATING: 0.5/10