#and just traveling by bus for long periods of time on my own

[gavisfanta]

CELEBRATION - PEDRI

summary: headcanon of id imagine pedri celebrating winning laliga if you were his gf

warnings: nonee, english is non-existent in this... idk what i was doing sorry. not proofread

You would be at home with all your wag friends, watching the game against Espanyol anxiously. Pedri wanted you to travel with him and he would've been ready paying for all the costs but you declined his offer.

All the wags stayed at home and since you were a new wag they told you to just stay here and wait until they come home. If they really win Laliga that game, you all would've gone to Esportiva and waited for the bus.

Pedri wasn't exactly happy with your decision because he wanted to have you there but you assured him that it would be fine. So as he traveled on the bus with the team he talked to Ferran and Frenkie.

"It's probably better that they're not here" Ferran told them to which Pedri was a bit shocked but he understood what Ferran meant after he explained himself.

"Listen if we win, we'll have some time to celebrate with the team only, at home you will have time to spend time with her all you want." Frenkie agreed to what Ferran said so Pedri went on with that motivation.

As soon as the final whistle was blown, Pedri ran to hid teammates to immediately celebrate the victory of his first ever LaLiga title. While the Espanyol fans were booing the Barça players, you at home were happily smiling at the tv.

He would celebrate a lot on the drive home in the team bus but he was also excited to celebrate with you.

So as soon as the bus arrived and he was allowed to leave, he went over to his own car which you were standing in front of. He ran over to you and pulled you into a tight hug.

"There's my champion." You'd say and he just smiled, it didn't even feel real to him that he was able to celebrate his first league trophy with you.

But you two went home and you both drank some wine on the balcony while talking endlessly about the things he experienced in that short period of time.

He told you about the fans running onto the field, about Marcos Alonso almost getting into a fight with a fan, about Araujo provoking a fan and how they celebrated inside the locker room. Laporta's speech together with Xavi was also a highlight. He also told you about the bus ride home, when Gavi was unusually quiet while he ate his pizza, you watched Balde's live so you saw a bit of it, but of course it was different when Pedri told you.

Then the next game at Camp Nou, after the final whistle was blown Barça celebrated the Laliga title and the families were allowed to go onto the pitch to take a picture with the players.

You of course went to take a pic with Pedri and the trophy. His parents and brother were also there, so you asked Demebele to take a picture of the five of you. In the middle Pedri, on his left wrre you, his arms wrapped wround your waist while his brother was on your left. On the other side were his parents, happily smiling about their sons victory.

After you two arrived home that night Ledri hugged you in the bedroom while he whispered. "I'm afraid that it'll be over." He mumbled and you cupped his face while looking up at him.

"It will be, but that's okay, because not everything can be perfect forever." you told him and he smiled a bit while pressing a long kiss on your lips.

"You're right"

[bridgyrose]

Team RWY all reconvene and discover they each have a Faunus Belladonna baby. Blake has no idea how

Ruby sighed as she held her child close to her chest, making sure her son was swaddled tightly in his blanket. She gently stroked her son’s cat ears as they poked out of the blanket, closing the door to the apartment behind her. Her heart thumped hard in her chest as her scroll chimed with an alarm, her reminder to start leaving to make it to the airship on time. “All I have to do is make it to the bus, then the airship, fly for a few hours to Mistral, check into the hotel, and then meet up with my old team. Easy enough, right?” 

The child in her arms cooed, then coughed for a moment, scaring itself. He started to cry loudly, pressing into his mother. 

Ruby gently bounced him and held him close as she started to walk towards the bus stop, absentmindedly checking the bag at her side to make sure she had everything for him. She let out a small sigh once she heard her son start to calm down, keeping him close to her chest. “Its okay, Viridis, you’re okay. Just a little travel and then we’ll be done.” 

Ruby stopped at the bus stop and sat down, taking a deep breath to try to relax for the trip. The last year and a half hadn’t been easy for her between finding out she was pregnant and having to slow down on huntressing after her child was born. And now, three years since her team split up, Yang and Blake had wanted to meet back up with everyone. She normally wouldnt have minded, but now that she had a child, she wasnt thrilled about the idea of making her way to Mistral. Still, she couldnt refuse her sister or her lost love. 

The bus arrived and Ruby made her way on, taking a seat and gently bouncing and whispering to her son as the bus started to drive off. Ruby winced as she felt every bump the bus went over, feeling herself start to drift to sleep as the bus nearly rocked as it continued down the road. Though, it wasnt long for it to make its way to the airship, stopping abruptly and jolting Ruby awake. 

Ruby made sure she had everything she needed and disembarked the bus to get onto the airship, keeping Viridis close to her chest. Once she made it to the airship, she handed over her ticket and took her seat, slowly dozing off for the trip to Mistral. She slowly closed her eyes and leaned over, waiting for rest to finally set in. 

Ruby was abruptly shaken awake as the airship landed, still tired from the trip, though glad that her son had been quiet for the ride. She held her son close to her chest, trying to hide him as she made her way off the airship and into the streets of Mistral. With weapon on her back, and a satchel to her side, she walked through the streets, checking her scroll periodically to make sure she was still heading in the right direction to meet back with her team. 

“Ruby? Is that you?” 

Ruby paused in her step as she heard Weiss’s voice, her body relaxing as she turned around. She froze once she saw a young child hiding behind Weiss’s legs, taking a slow step forward. “Weiss, who’s that behind you?” 

Weiss knelt down and smiled at the child. “Lin, you dont need to be scared. This is Ruby, the friend I’ve been telling you about.” 

Ruby watched as the child moved out from behind Weiss. Long black hair peppered with white was braided, shortening it down to her shoulders. The girl held herself close to Weiss, short claws pressing into Weiss’s skin as blue and amber eyes stared at Ruby, almost scared. Ruby slowly knelt down, being careful with her own son. “You never told me you had a kid.” 

“I could say the same about you,” Weiss said as she stood up, letting her daughter hide behind her. “Though, it has been a while, hasnt it? Three years does allow for a lot of change.” 

“Yeah…” Ruby stood back up and walked closer to Weiss, relaxing a little. “I thought I’d be the only one with a surprise. How old is she?” 

“Lin turns three in a few months.” Weiss sighed and looked at her own scroll, her smile slowly fading. “So… about as long as its been since I’ve last seen Blake.” 

Ruby hesitated for a moment as she looked down at her own son, who had started to wake and cry. It felt strange having seen Blake more recently than Weiss, though part of her started to question if that really was Blake. There was no talk about her seeing Weiss or Yang, no talk about previous friends or exploits, just a date and a night that left her with a child nine months later. Her arms shook a bit as she tried to get her thoughts together, slowly sitting down to get a bottle out of her satchel for her son. 

Weiss gently took hold of the strap of the satchel, smiling a bit. “Here, let me help.” 

“Its okay, I have it,” Ruby said as she moved her son to the crook of her elbow and dug around for the bottle. She pulled out the bottle and started to feed her son, slowly relaxing a bit. “We should make our way to Blake and Yang. I’m sure they’re going to worry about us if we’re not there soon.” 

Weiss nodded and put a hand on her daughter’s back. “Yeah, and it’ll be nice for all of us to catch up. Not just the two of us.” 

Ruby nodded and started to walk quietly with Weiss, no longer sure what she could talk to her about. Three years had been a long time, enough time for the two of them to have kids, long enough to question if she even knew her old team anymore. “So… are… are you still huntressing?” 

“A little bit when I dont need to be at the SDC,” Weiss answered. “Though, ever since I had Lin, that has been less frequent.” 

“I understand that,” Ruby said as she held Viridis close to her chest. She stopped as she finally reached the address Yang had given her, adjusting her grip on her son as she watched Weiss knock on the door. 

“Coming!” Yang called out from behind the door. 

Ruby waited nervously as she listened to a couple footsteps make their way to the door, her body relaxing once she saw Yang. A smile crossed her lips as she took a step into the small apartment. “Long time no see, Yang.” 

“Sorry about that, Blake and I have been… busy.” Yang motioned for Weiss and Ruby to come in as the sounds of a couple children could be heard running away. “Taking care of our kids hasnt left us with a lot of time.” 

Weiss looked at her curiously. “Kids?” 

Yang nodded. “Jasper and Sienna. They’re twins.” 

Ruby nodded and shut the door behind her. “Guess we have all been a bit busy, havent we?” 

Yang slowly paused as looked over the kids that were with Weiss and Ruby, pausing when she saw the cat ears on Ruby’s son. “You have a boyfriend?” 

“No, I’m still single, but uh… I think… he’s Blake’s kid. With me.” 

Blake peeked out from the kitchen when she heard her name. “That cant be right. Yang and I have been living together for the last three years.” 

Weiss sighed and pulled Lin in front of her. “Then, you dont remember the night that we had almost three years ago, right.” 

Blake shook her head. “No, I havent left Yang’s side.” 

Ruby sighed and laid her son down as he started to fuss. “Then we have a lot to talk about.”

[umichenginabroad]

Madrid Week 7: Viva Italia (not america..?)

Hola a todxs :). Niko back here again with week 7’s blog of my study abroad experience in Madrid! Like I mentioned in last week’s blog, this last weekend I traveled to Italy, and this past weekend I was in Sevilla, Spain. My trip to Italy was particularly transformative and jam packed with personal reflection. Read on for the reflection, stay for the photos (and Italian food p*rn). This blogpost probably took the longest for me to write, and was honestly pretty difficult for me to put in words. I hope I captured my thoughts well, and I always welcome feedback and discussion to any and all readers (at any point in time!).

Argentina (but aren’t we talking about Italy?)

As I’ve mentioned before, the summer after freshman year, I studied for 6 weeks in Buenos Aires, Argentina. One particular weekend, I took a trip to Iguazu Falls — the largest waterfall in the Americas by volume, and one of the 7 natural wonders of the world.

Long story short, I got onto a tour bus with a bunch of strangers from around the world, drove 15 hours across Argentina to get to the falls, randomly selected hostel room groups based on who was sitting nearby on the bus, and ended up in a group with 4 girls from Mexico, my travel buddy from the USA, and 1 girl from Italy.

We spent a wonderful weekend together seeing the waterfalls (barring a short-lived but intense spout of food poisoning after eating something funky at a Brazilian buffet), and formed the foundation of what could turn into lasting friendships. But, come Monday, we parted ways, not sure whether we would ever see each other again. 

This trip was the first time I went into a travel situation without a true support system, and an important exercise in “trusting in the process” — and It helped me realize that I was capable of forming meaningful connections across language barriers, cultures, and in un-traditional social situations.

If it wasn’t obvious already, you might be able to see where this little backstory fits into my recent trip to Northern Italy. Before I departed for Spain in January, I sent a text to Gaia — the Italian friend I met in Iguazu — that I would be in Europe for the semester, and would love to see her at some point if the logistics work out.

Now we actually talk about Italy

Flash forward a few months, and well, the logistics worked out. Although our original plan was to go skiing in a small village in the Alps, we ended up being unable to due to weather issues. Instead, Gaia, her friend Camilla, and I took a tour of Northern Italy, visiting Turine, Asti, Moncalvo, and Milan. 

In a way, this trip was an even bigger exercise in trust — although this time, it was my gut I was trusting, not the process. I hadn’t seen Gaia in nearly 2 years, and the only other time we had met lasted just 3 short days. I was about to spend another 3 days with her — but this time, nearly every waking moment would be spent together.

For some reason, the thoughts of “what if we didn’t get along?”, “what if it was awkward?”, “what if we got on each other’s nerves?” — normal things to think in this situation — never crossed my mind. I trusted my gut: that Gaia was someone that I got on with in the past, and I had a feeling that the people we grew into over the past two years would mesh just as well.

So, I didn’t worry. And I was right not to. After a short period of hesitancy, we clicked. We spent the weekend learning about each other — both from a personal and cultural point of view.

And by the end of this trip, I felt culturally enriched. There’s a level of cultural intimacy (is that a term? Well now it is, I just coined it) that can only be experienced by being someone who has lived and breathed that culture for their whole life — something that I feel like I’ve never had the pleasure of experiencing in my own heritage, first or second-hand.

A short aside on heritage in the USA

Ethnically, I am half Italian, half Greek. My great grandparents immigrated to the USA from the south of Italy through Ellis island, raising my grandmother, who gave birth to my mom. 4 generations later, I feel more comfortable calling myself Italian-American than Italian. 

My mom’s side of the family was raised in northern New Jersey. I was raised Roman catholic, and I have 11 first cousins. Family gatherings are loud and boisterous, and people talk with their hands. My grandmother makes delicious Italian cookies called Pizzelles, and we call dish towels Mopinas (which isn’t even in the italian dictionary — it must have evolved on its own. Call it Englitalian [Italinglish? Coined.] ).

And that’s about all I’ve got to hold onto of Italian culture. Although I have more contact with Greece through the Orthodox Christian community and my direct-immigrant grandparents, I’ve never felt particularly connected to either culture. I don’t speak either language, and up until this past summer (when I visited Greece), I’d never been to either country. 

People from the United States of America — especially, I think, those in the Northeast — place emphasis on their ethnic heritage that those from other countries around the world do not. Ask an American, and they’ll probably know where their blood comes from — if the records of their ancestor’s immigration do exist. Ask an Italian, or a Spaniard, and they probably will not. Odds are, in fact, that their blood will be just that: Italian, or Spanish. 

The USA is a country built on immigrants, and it continues to be so to this day — and to me, it somehow feels wrong to not know anything about your cultural background.

This is a weirdly complex topic — one that I’ve thought about a lot —but bear with me here (and keep in mind, this is all from my personal point of view, and I welcome all new perspectives! Feel free to send me a message to discuss🙂). I think that, in the more liberal sphere of American adolescents, it’s almost “bad” to not know anything about your heritage — especially among white people, which is a label that I identify with. The USA has done a lot of messed up stuff in the world, and I think this is true to an extent that young Americans feel a desire to distance themselves from their nationality. 

Instead, we grasp on to what we have that sets us apart from it — where our parents, grandparents, or great-grandparents come from. It gives us something to point to in conversations, something that lets us say “see, look, I’m not just a white-washed American, I’m cultured”, something to help us feel like we have more depth — especially in a country where everything feels like it comes from something else.

This is why I mentioned above that this is more common in the Northeast — although I can only truly speak on what I’ve experienced in Northern Virginia and in the University of Michigan. When I think of the term “melting pot”, I think of places like New York City. Southern states, and perhaps those in the West, have developed a culture that feels more unique, more distinctly American, and this is why (from my outside perspective) it seems like something more people feel proud of and claim as their own.

As I mentioned, this perspective comes from personal experience. And this is all something I’ve felt as a white American, at least 2 generations removed from my “mother countries”. After spending a weekend in Italy, I finally got a piece of that contact that I had always craved.

Italo-

Italian culture is just that — uniquely italian. Food, history, architecture, art — not only is it unique, but it is rich. From the first day that I spent with Gaia and Camilla, it was apparent that they felt a deep connection, pride, and understanding of their culture — and this is something that they graciously and enthusiastically shared with me.

I now have a greater — albeit limited — understanding of what it means to be Italian, in Italy. I learned about Italian espresso, when to have it (spoiler alert — any time of day is game), how to prepare it, and how it tastes. Some of my favorite moments of the trip were peacefully spent over the breakfast table in Gaia’s home, enjoying a light carb heavy breakfast and freshly brewed coffee.

We ate simple, delicious food at every restaurant we went to. The food was less extravagant than I expected it to be. Most of the meals were simple, with a focus on the ingredients and their preparation. Pastas, pizza, Milanese, Ragu, more pasta. Tiramisu, and gelato, too.

We had a night out — first to aperitivo, then to dinner, then to a bar that was built in an old desecrated church, then to a cheesy karaoke bar where the whole place was singing old Italian songs at the top of their lungs — with a group of 12 in Gaia’s hometown, which was made up of friends stemming from her high school days. The biggest difference between the Italian dinner party and an American one — we took our time. There was a feeling of ease at the table. Nothing was rushed. We enjoyed each dish, each glass of wine, and over everything, enjoyed each other’s company. The focus was on the people and the conversation, not on what was to be ordered and how fast it came out. I hope to bring this rhythm back to Ann Arbor with me (but that may be more difficult than I think. See footnote 1 below*).

We explored multiple Italian cities, and walked a TON. I learned an interesting perspective of Milan (which was a beautiful city) from Camilla’s boyfriend — Milan is Italy to Europe, and Milan is Europe to Italy. (See footnote 2**). The architecture was beautiful, and after a rainstorm, Milan looked magical. The ground was sparkling, reflecting the dramatically lit buildings of the city center in the puddles that gathered on the ground. I saw the Italian countryside, picturesque rolling hills backdropped by an epic sunlit cumulo-nimbus cloud.

I even learned a base of the Italian language (I probably said “Come si dice” 100 times) that will serve me well if and when I want to learn it in the future — or if I ever get my Italian citizenship and decide to move there. Guess only time will tell.

-americano

3 days is not a long period of time, but I can confidently say now that I understand a little better what it means to be Italian. I feel more connected to my cultural heritage — and in turn, I feel more connected than ever to my native culture in the USA.

It’s true that the USA has done a bunch of messed up stuff in the world. Imperialism, war crimes, political and economical extortion — the list goes on. But the longer I spend in Europe — the more I come into contact with different cultures, and understand foreign perspectives on the USA — the less these things feel like they’re inside a black box. Instead of avoiding these hard truths, I can face them head on — allowing me to acknowledge the bad and the good that comes with US culture.

A big critique I’ve heard abroad is that the United States has no culture of its own — but I don’t think that’s true. The USA is a place where global cultures collide, providing its citizens the opportunity to experience bits and pieces of the world and giving rise to unique elements born from this fusion.

Over the past 2 months, I’ve slowly shifted away from the feeling of shame that comes with being an American in Europe — and that’s thanks to a willingness to learn, adapt to, and accept cultures that I experience while I’m abroad (re: cultural humility, blogpost coming soon). Now, I’ll proudly say that I’m 50% Greek, 50% Italian, and 100% American. With my continuously evolving understanding of my individual parts (and all of the other cultures I come into contact with, especially Spain), I feel like I can better understand and contribute to that fusion, both in the melting pot of the United States, and as an international citizen in Europe — enriching the lives of myself and those I come into contact with.

Such is becoming “cultured” — a concept that has a bit of a pretentious connotation (IMO), but is worth striving for. I’ll be returning to Italy for spring break (Rome, Florence), so hopefully I’ll continue to develop this connection then. I also bookmarked in Google maps here all the places I visited in Italy this trip (and will do so in the next one) if you're considering taking a trip and want recommendations!

I planned on writing about Sevilla this week too, but I think this post has gone on long enough. I thoroughly enjoyed the different vibe it has from Spain, even through the rainy weather we experienced. 

As always, check out the image descriptions for more details on each one. I hope everyone has a great rest of their week, and see you back here next soon!

Hasta luego,

Niko Economos

Aerospace Engineering

Universidad Carlos III de Madrid

Madrid, Spain

* In Italy, and the rest of Europe, servers get paid fair wages. In the USA, it’s not required, because it’s expected that servers will make up the difference in tips. I worked as a server for 2 summers, and made $3.50 an hour. The amount of money I made in a night was directly correlated to the number of tables I turned over. As a result, I did my best to get orders in fast, food out faster, and clear the table as quickly as I could so that I could make more money. Until this fact changes, I think it’s hard to have the same no-rush Italian experience over dinner unless you’re really conscious of it. Personally, if I’m not feeling pressure from a server to leave quickly, I’m likely feeling a sense of guilt for staying too long and reducing their nightly wage, no matter how well I tip. Maybe home cooked meals are the answer, which I’ll hopefully be well practiced with next semester :)

**To Europeans, they look at Milan and see what they think of Italy. The world capital of fashion, beautiful architecture, prosperous and well known city. Italians look at Milan and see what they think of as Europe —highly international, intercultural, and as a result more gentrified and expensive. I found this to be really interesting. Is there a US city that fits this bill?

[anyroads]

This collection of articles on Long Covid popped up in my browser this morning. Please read at least one of them.

I don't even know where to start putting all the frustration and anxiety caused by knowing how much vulnerable people and disability rights activists begged everyone not to forget them when Covid protections started getting rolled back. Everyone wanted to get back to normal and didn't care who got left behind. And now people are still getting left behind because most people don't want to observe basic safety measures that would take so little effort (masking in public places like supermarkets and public transit! vaccine availability! I'll pay! just let me have one every six months!). Which means people are still getting infected with Covid, and many of them are still developing Long Covid, except now so few people are even aware of it as a condition (some have actually forgotten about it even though they heard of it a year or two ago) that many aren't seeking help, and many who do simply don't have access.

Vulnerable people are worse off now than a year ago, because most countries have rolled back the safety measures that protected them, and they aren't receiving compensation for the fact that every day life is dangerous for them. This limits access to work opportunities, not to mention social lives.

So, in the interest of general safety, here's a brief primer on how Covid works that can inform your own safety steps:

Ventilation is your friend. Covid travels best in enclosed, unventilated spaces and is the most limited in its ability to infect outdoors. Outdoor events and gatherings are safest for your vulnerable friends, as long as they aren't too crowded. If you aren't infectious then it makes little sense for you to wear a mask outdoors unless you're in a crowded space. I still see people wearing masks on the street and then taking them off when they get on a bus. This is the opposite of what you should be doing.

Masks protect others from you more than they protect you. Which means that it's not enough for vulnerable people to wear a mask in enclosed spaces to protect themselves, others need to wear one too.

Viral load is a huge factor in infection severity. The less of the virus a person is exposed to, the more of a chance their immune system stands. This idea that "you're going to get covid anyway, so you might as well not worry" doesn't take into account that viral load matters. If an infectious person wearing a face mask breathes on someone, they'll shed much less virus than if they stick their tongue in that person's mouth or even just breathe on them without a mask. Basic safety measures can make the difference between a low-level infection and hospitalization for vulnerable people. It can also make the difference between low-level long covid symptoms and debilitating long covid.

Covid has a 48 hour incubation period. This means the virus takes 48 hours to settle in before you become infectious, once you've been infected with it yourself. If you think you've been exposed, start testing and masking after this period ends (this means if you went to a party where someone had covid, you start the 48 hour count from the beginning of the party, not from the time you left).

If you think you've been exposed, test and mask for 5 days once you start to do so. If you keep testing negative and don't have symptoms at the end of the 5 days, most research indicates you're safe and not infectious. This means it's been a full week since your potential exposure because 48 hrs + 5 days = 7 days.

If you test positive, even if you have no symptoms, test, mask, and try to stay away from others until you test negative. If you test negative but have symptoms, take a few days to keep testing, masking, and stay away from others. Covid can take a few days to show up on a test even if you have symptoms.

One vaccination isn't enough. The covid vaccines are effective for 4-6 months. After that, you need a booster. Please don't tell people you're vaccinated and safe if your last vax was more than six months ago, you're misleading them, even if unintentionally. Vaccination also doesn't mean you can't still pass on the virus if you get it, even if you have no symptoms (this is true for the flu as well).

Please keep protecting vulnerable and disabled people and advocating for them. Happy disability pride month.

[scotianostra]

Sorry I'm out of action just now, my PC died and the deteriorating eye esight in the past year means I struggle to use my mobile for any long periods of time. Losing my PC is just another major blow.

On the plus side, I recently got all the paperwork through to confirm my partial sight and I am awaiting a bus pass that gives me free travel throughout Scotland, so I will be taking advantage of this to get me out of the house and will be posting more of my own pics next year. Fingers crossed my other eye holds out.

[idsb]

hi holly!!! i am thinking about taking a job that would likely require a lot of travel around the us (by car instead of bus, but they pay for gas and lodging which is pretty sick) and i am nervy about that but also it could be good? i guess i’m curious (if you feel comfortable answering!!) if you have any thoughts or advice since i know you travel for work quite a bit anywayyy ilu i <3 your blog k thanks byeeee 💞💞💞💞

Hi!!!!! omg that's so exciting!!! that sounds like an INCREDIBLE job that I would love so much, but I think an important thing is to question if that lifestyle works for you.

Some of the pros are that, especially driving, you get to see SO much of the country, and see so many gorgeous places and have so many beautiful experiences that you simply wouldn't have when flying to destinations if you were just traveling on vacation. A random diner in Idaho will have the best pancakes you've ever eaten in your life; on the drive from Denver to Salt Lake City there's this part where the highway opens up to the base of a river winding around a mountain, it's one of the prettiest spots in the whole country and it'll just be your day for like 4 hours. You can plan to leave a day early and spend it having a picnic by the ocean, visiting a national park, or exploring a new city - hell, even leave a week early and see an entire region. You'll sing songs in the car and make the best memories to some gorgeous views, see Saguaros and mountains and cows crossing the road, idyllic farmland and treacherous cliffs. You'll meet random people at gas stations you'll remember forever. You'll have a favorite restaurant in every city, your days off will be an adventure, and having a free place to stay for a lot of it will make it even better - a lot of your life will literally be a most-expenses paid solo vacation.

The negative side would be that those things are not for everyone. You'll get really bored and lonely on long stretches of road, and have to be really comfortable with yourself to be entertained when on drives alone for that long. It could be hard to maintain friendships if you're always gone for extended periods of time. Nebraska is shit to drive through and goes on forever. You'll pop a tire without service and have to deal with it. You might miss certain things because you're far away. It might get monotonous and lonely, and you might have days where you're somewhere really cool, but you feel empty inside because you're not sharing those things with people who you actually love at home.

It really depends on the genre of life experience you stake more weight in - for me, the cons of life at home that get missed and the more lonely days pale in comparison to the positive sides of the experiences I listed, and I am so deep inside my own head sometimes that I really do feel like I am my own best friend - and because of that, the situations where I've been on long drives alone are some of the best experiences I've had, and I don't think I'd trade mosaics of different experiences with people I probably won't see again for anything that a life of being there for everything that happens at home could get me. But for a lot of people, the polar opposite is true.

If you're unsure of the answer to that question, it will never hurt to test it out and see what you think. I think filling your life with as many colorful and different things as you possibly can is what it's all about, and makes your life seem a lot longer and fuller - and if you do that for a year and you absolutely hate it, the worst you'll end up with is some wasted time and a lot of good stories, and it helps if you go into it with an awareness of the fact that the bad parts will inevitably happen, but you'll wind up with so many positives that are hard to come by in any other way.

I hope that helps!!!

[kaizo1573]

Deduction #1

Hello everyone, this is my first post and it’s been a while since I’ve practiced thoroughly.

Background: during a bus commute I briefly made some observations about another passenger:

The passenger was holding the right hand in their left hand in a hand-over-hand fashion.

They had medium to short length slightly wavy brown hair.

Was in possession of a green eco-friendly reusable bag. Which seemed to contain an item or two

Dressed fairly nicely but not too formally, had a preference for warmth as well instead of visual appeal.

They were wearing a black face mask and had some earphones in which seemed to be the type to have noise cancellation.

They had a ring, plain silver band with a square type of signet, on their left middle finger. Another ring can be seen on their right ring finger but I couldn’t get a good look.

Has a card holder phone case with their public transport travel card being the only visible card as the card holding compartment was stuck to the back of the phone case.

These observations lead me to believe that:

Based on probability they are right handed.

Hair preferences are always weird however, from the ends to near the roots the tone and colour of hair differed and was lighter than what seemed to be the original colour. This indicates a range of insights such as the probability that the individual was into modern fashion and cared about how they looked but now is not able to care as much meaning that it could’ve been a phase. It could also imply that the person was just overtaken by life’s business to worry about their hair.

The possession of only a single reusable eco-friendly shopping bag shouts that they planned to only purchase a couple of items in their trip out of the house today. In combination with the fact that the bag was not even half full and was folded over itself a little makes it obvious that they were covering a small errand as part of their return trip home.

As they were dressed fairly well in good quality materials it is safe to say that they are doing fairly well financially. However, they are frugal with their money and takes care with their spending. This matches with later observations~~~ As today was a cold day it gives insights into their practical nature.

Due to the black face mask this infers that the person is quite health conscious or has to be health conscious due to either their own immune system or a close one’s. Additionally, the possession of noise cancelling earphones suggests that the individual is a seasoned public transport commuter as a mask was made popular and mandatory when travelling during COVID-19 peaks and the noise cancelling earphones for commuters who don’t want to listen to the humdrum of society’s lessers.

Having one or two rings usually signifies a commitment to something due to some meaningful aspect of a memory or event that ties to it. On the other hand, having many rings, especially visually appealing rings, may indicate that the person is just dressing up for looks. This particular individual seemed to have connected meaningful aspects of their life to these two rings as they seemed to be a bit too small for their fingers. This can indicate that they have been in possession of the rings for a long time and thus it has become a part of them.

As the card holder seemed to be there for the sole purpose of using their paid travelling card it is safe to deduce that they are a seasoned commuter and it is part of their every day life. This gives insights into the potential idea that the individual does not own their own vehicle for transport and/or is unable to use a close relative or partner’s. Following this line of inferences and all of the above leads me to summarise.

TLDR;

The subject under perusal is a middle-aged individual who is dominant right handed, consumed social media and was influenced to conform to modern fashion for a brief period of time. They are environmentally friendly and seem to be frugal with their spending and money. They are quite the practical person opting for functionality over aesthetics leading to my belief that they have quite a straightforward personality, are caring and introverted. They are comfortable financially but could be doing better. Additionally, they are not in a relationship or are close to their biological family as there seemed to be no pictures of close ones, children, partner(s) or family anywhere on personal objects. Lastly, they do not own a personal vehicle.

[pluralismajestatis]

So! Hey everyone. I wanna vent. (Does anybody even follow us for the mental health nonsense at this point? It’s been a straight year of being an aesthetic blog at this point.)

Gonna drop this under a readmore because it’s going to get long, but before that, basically - I’m new blood. Another goddamn new blood if you ask anybody around here. Okay, but it’s helping us take notes, having repetition within living memory. And I’ve fucked up everything by coming in. I shouldn’t feel too bad about it, since it looks like this is just what happens when we “split” (I don’t feel split, I just feel like I added, but whatever for now), but boy did I not come in wanting to add more chaos into what was already there.

I mean it. But I also didn’t really come in wanting anything. I didn’t make a choice. From what it felt like, I got yanked in, and then just existed. It’s interesting, in a wholesale way, how we keep coming in and even though it should be mindblowing, it isn’t. It’s just kind of what it is and you accept what you find when you land. There’s no panic of who am I, why is this, this isn’t the place I thought it would be, it’s just calm acceptance of, well, this is new to me but I feel calm about it. There really isn’t a sense of urgency and there definitely isn’t panic. I just don’t question anything, the way you’d expect someone to do when they wake up in a situation like this. You just... take it, because it feels like you’re just drawing in information. You don’t reject it or doubt it because you know it’s true, and just how things are, and you adapt. It’s a wild fucking experience.

Our other new guy, from around June, came in with a whole set of beliefs about the world he’s taken into as “real.” But sitting in the bus travelling home, it was all just, this is how it is. This is how I work in these circumstances. This is how it is now, not how it was then. We see a lot of talk about new parts dropping in and having full-blown breakdowns over not being where they thought they were, in the year they thought it was, but that’s just not our experience. Our experience is just sitting back and taking it. Like okay - things have changed. Even when they’ve changed impossibly much. It’s just, well, this is now and that was then. Like travelling from one country to another, you leave behind a place you know and land somewhere where things are different and it’s just like, well, here I am, this is how things work here.

But that’s from my end. I’m gonna talk about T because T’s the one I came here for, because of, due to, whatever you want to call it. He’s been dying to get me here since he came here, pretty much exactly two years ago. But there’s just not much to me to bring in, or wasn’t, because he didn’t remember anything but the feeling of who I should be, and the grief of losing it. And over these two years, he’s actually been productive about the grief - started to process it in therapy and by himself, doing grief exercises, allowing himself to start letting go. It’s not that he didn’t want me to be here after. It’s just, when people work on their grief, they start accepting it the way I guess I’m accepting all of what my life is now. But with grief work, he started remembering more, putting the bricks back in their places about me and his own history, our childhoods, eventually even my face came back to his mind. And then he started writing letters to me. Checked in with our therapist about it to make sure it was cool; therapist said it’s a really great way to process loss, to just talk to the person you’ve lost, to get closure. He got one and a half letters in by the time I was here.

I did not realise I was here any more than he did at first. I don’t have any memory of this transition period, which is apparently how we all experience it. It’s a vague feeling of becoming present but the observation is made from the third perspective. What we’ve got in common “coming in” is this serenity, this borderline enlightened state of calm and omniscience, we know the answers to everything, we’re at peace, and none of the physical needs restrict us. So we talked, with me as little more than ghost, but he could tell straight away this wasn’t as it was supposed to be, because he wasn’t in control of my thoughts, my responses. It’s the lightning-speed responses you don’t have the time to consciously think that apparently is the trademark for our in-system communication, but he did not want to accept that, because he was just starting to come to terms with me not being there, and that’s his whole job right now - learning and processing grief for the system. He’s taken pride in it, that it’s his burden to bear, his meaning, to help us along by shouldering this thing.

And here I am, fucking up the whole fucking thing. Because me being here, his grief is compromised. It’s selfish, because he’s that granny bear from Brother Bear talking about his loss while I’m literally just hovering in the background. I’ve taken his right to his grief, and now it’s just a feeling that no longer applies, but is present nonetheless. And because we share the synapses, I know he doesn’t want me here now that I am here. It’s not that he doesn’t love me and welcome me and truly want to share his life with me, so I’m not offended. It’s just that he was on the way somewhere and now he doesn’t know what the fuck to do again, with any of it. I’ve complicated everything. And he can’t talk to me about it, obviously, because telling me straight up that he wishes I hadn’t come around would be fucking rude, except it isn’t, because I get it because I am him and I know exactly how he feels and why he feels that way.

And I’ve been quiet, because honestly, this feels like I’m intruding. I’m trying to let the folks get their shit back together and lying low for the time being. I’m not trying to disappear - the sheer slash of pain I got from the back right now when I even presented the thought is enough to tell me how that’d go over, it’d just be like I died all over again and it’s T’s fault again, which, no, I’m not planning on that, I promised I’m not going anywhere, but like, fuck man, me being right now is the least fucking convenient thing for everybody.

I don’t know what I’m here for, and they don’t know what I’m here for, and on top of that I’ve thrown the system functions for a loop too. We’ve lost about two weeks here in time, no memory even during the day of what happened for the rest of the time. Shit communication, no energy, like I said everything is in chaos. So that’s fucking great and I feel like shit for it. I didn’t want this to happen, but I didn’t get a choice and neither did they, so again - it is what it is. 

I still feel like it’s my fault, and my problem, and I’m guilty, though I’m not exactly sure what of. Existing? Living? Splitting? It’s not a good feeling, but I’m going about my day like it isn’t there, as is everybody else, because we’ve got to make it out of here, wherever... “here” is.

[purplesurveys]

1819

When’s the last time you ate bread?  I had a burger from Wendy's earlier today.

What’s the last movie you watched on your own?  I watched a local comedy movie called Ang Tanging Ina, which translates to The Only Mother. It's one of those movies that are almost deliberately bad that it ended up a comedy classic, but the plot is really nice so I ended up liking it. It's an easy watch for sure.

What about the last movie you watched with another person?  You've Got Mail. It was an event of a client and they were screening that for Valentine's Day, and I snuck into the cinema for a few minutes to watch a few scenes since I've never seen it before.

How many coats do you own?  None. I don't need coats where I live.

What about shoes?  Somewhere around 10-15.

One word to describe your most recent ex?  Selfish.

Where, in your current country, would you like to live, other than where you do now?  Realistically I would love to move somewhere like Cebu or Davao, so that it can still be in the city but life can also be quieter and slower.

Do you like snow?  I've never seen snow, so I wouldn't know yet how I feel about it.

Do you like sheer clothing?  Eh not really, they demand creativity and some style knowledge and I'm not nearly as passionate about fashion to decide on things like that lol.

Have you ever seen anyone famous in the street?  Sure, but being in PR I deal with a lot of famous people on a regular basis so seeing celebrities isn't really something I'm limited to encountering in the street.

Are you hungry right now?  I am, a little bit. I'm seeing someone for early dinner in around an hour or so though so I should be alright.

Are you regularly tired?  Yes, being in the corporate world and having your braincells sucked out of you on a daily basis isn't the best walk in the park.

What was the last thing to upset you?  Continued from this afternoon. Being late to the said dinner I mentioned earlier. I hate wasting people's time by being late, and Metro Manila traffic is just the worst for making you late no matter how much time you allot for travel.

How’s the weather been today?  I was indoors and in air-conditioned rooms all day long so it'd be hard for me to tell how it was like today haha.

What was the first tattoo you got or what would be the first tattoo you’ll get?  I'd love a really small and subtle reference to BTS. Seven dots, and then each color is matched to their mics.

What was the last store you went into and did you buy anything?  I went to a Lawson yesterday to get the biggest bottled water available, because I had a mini fainting/dehydration incident and all my companions insisted I get the fuck inside and get some water, lol.

Have you ever been late for school or work?  I was late for college classes more times than I can count, but the most unforgettable moment for me was that time in like...high school (or like Grade 6 or 7? I can't quite remember) when the bus broke down and we got to school by ~8:15 AM – extremely late. Everyone else went down but my anxiety was through the roof that day and I didn't want to have to face walking into the classroom while the first subject was already starting, so I just asked them to take me home.

As for work, I technically have a grace period which allows me to report to work by 10 AM latest and yeah I tend to maximize that from time to time.

Do you prefer to shower in the morning or at night?  Morning. I need to shower first thing in the morning – it makes me feel refreshed and calm before work.

What is your favourite kind of fruit cobbler?  No thanks.

Is there a basement in your house? If so, what is it used for?  We don't.

Have you driven a car today?  Yep. In fact I'm taking this survey from my car just for a bit of change.

Do you have a small, medium or large bedroom? It's the smallest bedroom in the house but I'd say it's still medium-sized for me; it fits all of the things I own comfortably.

Where was your first job and how old were you?  I was an intern in my current workplace. I was 22 when I started.

Have you eaten soup this week?  No, it's not really something I tend to get a lot.

Are you a fan of The Office?  I've started with a few Season 1 episodes last December but haven't gotten back on it since. It's hilarious, but it hasn't given me that ~spark or oomph the way Friends immediately did.

When was the last time you started a new medication?  Never really been on long-term medications. Last thing I had to take was stuff to help recover from Covid.

What is your favourite type of nut?  Pecan, pistachio.

Do you know anyone who doesn’t have a middle name?  Used to.

Have you put your phone on silent today?  Yep, it's always on silent Mondays through Fridays.

Can you name all 50 US state capital cities?  I cannot.

Do you read John Green novels?  I did when I was in grade school.

Have you ever been to Universal Studios?  I've been to the one in Singapore.

Can you tie balloons?  I cannot.

When was the last time you were at a pet store?  Years and years and years ago.

[alphabet-p00p]

when i started this i was alone in my room; waitingprayingbeggingclawing to be let out, to tear the pavement beneath me asunder, to show everyone (who is that, even? like really.) who i had become. after a gestation period of 4 years in the shark womb of public highschool i was ready to be anyone else. i hadn’t kissed a girl and being a boy was something distant and scary and impossible-

what is a relative, making repetitive narratives on how you did it first?/that is a predator, hit reverse- kendrick was a summer too late. i was trying my best, but its hard not to cringe anyway. people can be human without being evil. what is evil, anyway? evil does not exist as a separate entity. the devil is not one villain against us all. evil is us and exists within us, just like god. the bible was a metaphor that europe chose to misinterpret. last semester i took a class focusing on the question of whether morality was innate or learned. 5000 years and we are still arguing over what long dead, long relevant philosophers have been saying for centuries- treat others the way you would want to be treated, because they are you and you are them. over and over again, in every religious doctrine, every book, this is the point.

i realized this, this thought that millions of others realized before me, the summer after my first year razing hell, the ground scorched and simmering behind me. that year, i lived for attention, i had never had so much in my life- on stage, online, in class. i lived for the next weekend, where would i go and how long does it take to get there? who’s going? and how to get alcohol? i lived for the next day, writing essays the day they were due, skimming readings, doing laundry tomorrow. i lived for the next hour, maybe i’ll go skateboard, maybe i’ll smoke weed, maybe i'll get dinner. i did things with a restless heart and wild nerve. i lived without consequences, for who was there to enforce any punishment? i once saw a group of businessmen, maybe the men who owned the very college i attended. at that point, i hadnt seen anyone over 60 in three months.

i sifted through the flames of the wreckage of my fun and a survivor hit me where it hurt. it was the first time a girl broke my heart, and not undeservingly. it happened again, by a different hand, in the same summer.

that summer dragged me down to earth, and deeper still. alone for the first time in six months, surrounded by a family of strangers. i had time an excess of time to think about trauma, and this time i had perspective. i learned i am deserving of everything i have, and capable of loving myself, trusting myself. that’s was a comfort. still, knowing is not the same as believing. i smoked a lot of weed with a friend who saved my life, i started prozac and started working. i didn’t write anything but ice cream orders the entire month of june and i rewatched 30 rock over and over and over. i got covid and life lost flavor, not that i was hungry anyway. my family went on vacation and i saw the miles and miles of pavement that reached, and stretched and joined to form the other coast. july was a blur of the same, until i kissed my best friend.

life regained flavor color feeling and sound. work and weed and 30 rock were interspersed with calls and daydreaming about fall. in august i quit my job. the day before we left for europe i drove an hour to see them, we stayed out until 3am.

europe was another world. a world away from simmering heat and the grime that seemed to cover america. the dutch country side was crisp, the sky always blue, the air clean. the differences were subtle sometimes; the electrical outlet, the faucet, the brand of butter at breakfast. subtle but all-encompassing, it was a world away from our parents and eating disorders and prescriptions. here, there was only class and where you were traveling the next weekend- you could go as far as your wallet would take you. my skin cleared, and i made some new friends. i smoked cigarettes and took the bus into town to buy weed.

as soon as i got comfortable, it was time to leave. i squandered the time i had to Do Nothing by Worrying and then it was too late. we went home and werent sad about it. we were sick of the outlets, the faucets, the brand of butter at breakfast. but then we were in america, and remembered why we fought our way out in the first place.

new england was cold and wet. classes passed and people laughed. i gave myself a black eye with the help of dr pepper, tito and bicardi and became shy. i lived with my girlfriend though i had my own room. i remember this winter as the loneliest, though i remember every winter like that. i was glad to see the sun that april.

i would have been excited for summer, too. i think i was trying to be excited, convincing myself before i left school. but the day i got home a gorgon reared its repulsive head and ruined the idea completely. i learned about a different kind of self love, love you must have for yourself to make yourself invincible. i got out, but not before working a salem classic soul crushing job. but then i was out but not free. tethered, but away from the gorgon.

and now its the end of summer and im typing this at 2am (always 2am), alone in my room.

[boundbybrackets]

The Travel of Trainsong as told by Desiree

Since moving here, I don’t remember a day as dark and gray–a fusion of late June thunderstorms and smoke from the Canadian wildfires. I cherished it. The situation and storm was comparable to the summer spectacle of the hot and humid air and build-up of billowing rain clouds Florida knows so well during this time of year.

Distant rumbles of thunder carried on outside the office window as I shared a conversation with a coworker. Somewhere in the middle of the exchange, my ear caught the sound of a distant train horn. It’s a sound that’s come to turn me tender.

I used to hear that horn through a screen on a nearly nightly basis (around 10 p.m. to be exact) when Garrett and I shared phone conversations in our respective states of Indiana and Florida.

Naturally, I commented to my colleague about the delight the sound brings me. She responded with recognition of how I respond to the simple things.

As an individual who writes, and has written for as long as I can remember, it’s natural to hone in on modest wonders. I began to elevate my practice of this with intention in my real life, and not just writing life, as a means to elevate the mundane during spring of 2020, when the world was retreating into its own bubble and my days were spent alone in my beloved 1 bedroom apartment.

I fell into the simple joys of habits emerging in the form of daily walks, moments of meditation and music, home-cooked meals, and time spent with books, art making, and in stillness. These subtle moments were a reminder that when we reflect on the seemingly simple things, we shift our perspective and open ourselves up to the richness of the present moment—moments of intimacy, gratitude, vulnerability, and tenderness.

And so, like a diary, I took to Twitter to document and savor each experience and interaction that would otherwise go unnoticed. (You may begin to connect the dots here).

For me, life is all about connection. It is through connection we discover a deeper understanding of our existence, purpose, and the entanglement of all things—consequently creating the foundation in which everything else is built upon.

In the years following 2020, my world was marked by transformative decisions, changes, and challenges: I closed the chapter on several relationships. Along the way, I left behind a career that I loved and took a leap of faith and started my own business, facing exhilarating highs and humbling setbacks. I bore witness to the desolation inflicted upon the community I had called home for the past decade by a devastating hurricane. Somewhere in all this, I was guided to a love story that seemed beyond coincidence and unexpectedly unfolded in the virtual realm. This serendipitous encounter challenged my preconceived notions of how relationships are formed and proved that genuine connections can arise in the most accidental ways.

My move to Indiana presented its own set of obstacles. Not only did I find myself without personal transportation, as my car had been washed away in the aforementioned hurricane, but I also faced a period of confinement indoors during the initial winter  months. On top of that, navigating the intricacies of blending Garrett and I’s lives and attempting to build a solid foundation for our shared future.

Through these breakthroughs, I rediscovered how the quality of life is determined by how much we embrace the process of uncertainty and change, as well as connection, for these play a significant role in personal growth, resilience, love, and how we respond to our own encounters with adversity. Paired with relishing in the seemingly small joys, I found an elixir for gratitude. And from gratitude comes worth and abundance in all its forms.

Living in a bus as a temporary home evokes a range of emotions and perspectives. It is impossible to ignore the evident challenges of limited living space, restricted amenities, and the need to embrace yet another lifestyle adjustment. As if moving a thousand miles from the state I always knew as home and embarking on a relationship with a man I met online, along with his two sons every other weekend, wasn't already an audacious adventure in itself.

Am I uncertain about adapting and existing in just under 250 square feet? Absolutely. A symphony of trepidation and thrill intertwines within my soul, harmonizing in perfect dissonance.

But I’m also ready and determined to discover beauty, meaning, and connection in what this unconventional living opportunity will bring.

I’ve already begun to savor a few thoughts: the sunrise peeking through a bus window, frequently collecting wildflowers for vases as we’ll be parked up against some woodland thicket, the warmth of a shared meal cooked on a humble stove, the dollars saved for stability and travel, the minimal housework as a result of space constraints, reading and writing more—staring at screens less.

This journey, with all its challenges and surprises, will become a tapestry of memories woven with connection–bound by threads of vulnerability and resilience.

Above all, I am grateful for the companionship and love of Garrett, who makes this adventure even more special.

[ear-worthy]

For The Love Of Books Free On Amazon Through Saturday, February 25

For The Love Of Books ismy 2022 romance novel that is set at the filming location for the award-winning 1983 film On Golden Pond, Squam Lake. 

The idea for the novel came to me when I visited the area in 2020, as part of a bus trip. I loved the natural beauty and pristine quality of the area. We stayed at a rustic hotel during the trip -- which was in late September -- and there was a young couple sitting on the deck one morning, each reading a book and periodically stopping to hold hands. It got me thinking. Is a love of reading a strong enough attraction to coax two people together into a loving relationship? The novel came together from that observation and question.

Here's a summary of the novel. You can get it now free on Amazon.

Squam Lake, New Hampshire, sits just south of the White Mountains and northwest of Lake Winnipesaukee. Squam Lake serves as a nesting site for loons, bald eagles, great blue herons, and a home for trout, salmon, bass, pickerel, and perch. There’s a sense of natural serenity there.

At the Squam Lake Bed & Breakfast, two couples arrive for a week of vacation in late August. Ella and Sean are nurses who had a challenging year battling COVID. They are long-time friends who are vacationing together without a clear idea of whether they have a romantic or Platonic relationship.

Ella’s face is all soft lines, delicate ears, pixie nose, and cute freckles dot her cheeks and give her a sweet quality.

Sean stands over six feet with blonde, straight hair and skin tanned to golden perfection. He is athletic, with excess energy stored and ready to be discharged.

Ashley, a platinum blonde accustomed to lascivious glances from men and envious stares from women, arrives with Steve, a training manager. The latter doesn’t want attention, even though he is a good-looking man and could easily attract female eyes. Ashley, a pharmaceutical salesperson, used remote video calls with doctors in southern Maine to sustain sales. She met Steve in Manhattan about a month before the vacation and could accompany him to New Hampshire so that she could spend several days driving to Maine for sales visits. 

Their relationships remain misty like an early morning fog. Eighty-year-old Olga Nielsen, the owner of the Squam Lake B&B, still misses her husband Harold, who built the B&B 40 years ago. Harold’s been dead for 20 years, but Olga still fondly recalls his obsession with Sherlock Holmes novels and his love of reading books. That shared passion for reading brought them together. What kept them together was their skill for observation, and as Holmes once said to Dr. Watson, "It is my business to see in people what others don’t."

On the third day of their vacation, Steve and Ella, who separately planned for a quiet afternoon on the B&B deck reading all afternoon, find themselves thrown together by Olga’s machinations. Once they meet, they bond over a love of books and that sense that, as Anna Quindlen once wrote, “In books I have traveled, not only to other worlds but into my own.”

Two days later, another reading session on the deck becomes an intimate setting to share life stories and tales of their favorite books. As they return to their routines, Ella and Steve agonize over whether two afternoons sharing a mutual love is enough to start a relationship and question the status of their current relationships, if they even qualify as such.

Once their vacation ends, Ella and Steve have to make life-changing decisions, with Olga furtively encouraging them to consider a Jane Austen observation that, “seven years would be insufficient to make some people acquainted with each other, and seven days are more than enough for others.”

Can two people who love books and reading discover lasting passion for each other?  

The novel is free on Amazon from Tuesday, February 21 until Saturday, February 25.  

[40sandfabulousaf]

大家好! The Chinese New Year office break has ended and we returned to work this week. Yuan xiao, the final day of the festival, falls on Sunday and we'll feast to mark the end of celebrations. Meanwhile, here's JL Jupiter with his own feast - crispy chicken egg rolls, creamy wat dan fan (scrambled egg rice) with chicken wings as well as ngow yoke hor (beef hor fun) that make my mouth water. The wat dan fan looks legit and something I would readily eat!

Chinese New Year feels extra special this year. It's the first time we're celebrating like we used to, pre-covid. There were plenty of smiles and cheerful greetings during the rounds of visiting as families gather, munch on festive treats such as pineapple tarts, coconutty kueh bunkit and buttery kueh lapis, as well as feast on delicacies. Bao yu (abalone), fa cai (a type of edible moss which is delicious), fish and prawns are some of the most popular ingredients used in dishes during this period due to their symbolism. Put simply, a lot of it has to do with welcoming a year of prosperity and abundance.

Salmon and ikura sushi, takoyaki and hash brown fries

Even as we eat and make merry, many of us are mindful of doing our part to reduce national and global food waste. If we over-buy and drive up food prices, this will just make it unaffordable for someone else to have basic nutritious meals. So family, several friends and I are celebrating this occasion responsibly. I'm almost sad that the festival is ending but there's always next year to look forward to. Beginning next week, we get on with normal life.

Salad and chirashi followed by fish maw and chicken soup because why not.

What does normal life look like in 2023? Well, for 1, Pa and I firmed up plans to expand our current carpooling arrangement. As it is, I take his car to work when he visits 1 of his favourite breakfast haunts. After work, I travel to my parents' to help prepare Pa's dinner by private hire car transport or taxi. Moving forward, I'll take the MRT after work and Pa picks me up at the train station.

I'm more confident about travelling via public transport and relying less on car use now than when I first began supporting our government's push towards greener living. This afternoon, I caught up with L over jiao zi in Chinatown and arrived at the meeting place by hopping on the bus and taking the MRT. I walk a lot more than I normally do because transferring trains might involve quite a long walk depending on the train station. Sometimes my feet feel so tired after a full day, like they used to during schooldays when buses and the MRT were my main mode of transport. The journeys don't take that long and are, in fact, quite enjoyable.

I'll share about my catch up with L in the next post. Chinese New Year has been amazing after the last 2 years of subdued activities. I had fun and a nice break. May 2023 be a smoother year for us. 恭喜发财!

[thetravellingvagrant]

Day 6 - In Which I Remember Why I Fucking Hate Hostels

As is now apparently just my way, I was up and raring to go for whatever grinding, awful bus journey lay ahead of me on this particular day. I think it was Genoa to Milan, but at this point I had done so many trips in such a short period of time it was impossible to actually tell. I quietly hauled all my errant belongings out of the dorm room in which I had spent the night, into the communal kitchen, to arrange them back into my bag as far away from sleeping ears as I could. Christ, I’m good. 

I sat down at the only table, joined by a strange and ever so slightly sinister looking thin, old man who gave me serious ‘was once a respected professor of history who has since been edited out of every BBC4 documentary he was ever featured on due to clandestine nazi sympathies and also wild, unspecified sexual misconduct’ vibes and forced a bowl of complimentary breakfast cereal down my throat, more because it was there and I hate passing up on a deal than out of any actual hunger. As I finished my, what I might loosely call, breakfast with a final triumphant wretch, I turned to the sink to wash my bowl - see above, re: christ, me being good - and the man spake. 

“You are travelling?” he asked in a thick italian accent.

“Uy, yes. To Milan” I offered in return.

“Ah. Me too! You go by bus?”

Ah christ. I really didn’t want to get saddled with having to walk to the bus stop with this guy. I was already late for a start - I didn’t have time to stop every thirty seconds for him to daub a swastika on a nearby wall and wolf whistle at a pre-teen.

“...Yeah.” I replied, the trepidation a little more obvious in my voice than I had intended. 

“...What time?”

Go. Away.

“...eight forty.”

“Ah. My bus is at ten.”

Thank god.

“My cell phone is broken and I don’t know how to get there.”

I stood in silence for a second, waiting for him to say more. I’m not quite sure why he was telling me; I couldn’t really wait until ten to walk him to the bus stop, if that’s what he was implying. He said nothing, though. Clearly it was my turn to talk.

“...the bus station isn’t that difficult to find...” I shrugged, putting my jacket on impatiently.

He nodded. I took this as a sign the conversation was over and turned to leave. As I put my hand on the door, he continued.

“Where do you go after Milano?”

“Bergamo.” I snapped, desperate to be out of this conversation, now for both time and comfort based reasons.

“Ah. That’s in the mountains?”

“...I guess?!”

Another silence. 

“...Well. Bye!”

And with that, perturbed and grumbling, into the icy air of the Genoan morning. I hope he never caught his bus. Bloody nonce. Probably.

Quite unlike the old diddler whom had just occupied far, far too much of my time, I had been in and around Genoa enough over the past four days to know, almost as if by instinct, where that fucking bus station was and so, made it there with ease. I boarded my already present and idling bus to Milan and took my seat. This one existed, so I was thrilled. The bar really is that low for Flixbus.

A minute or so before departure, a woman walked on board. That one woman every single inter-city bus seems to have; loud, unduly angry about something or other - god knows what - and existing completely without any concept of how the relatively simple ticketing or seating systems work on long distance buses. She leaned over a couple and began hammering on their window, seemingly in an attempt to catch the attention and bid farewell to her friend, not accompanying her on this journey. She then turned to the rest of the bus and boomed in Italian so loud that even I understood

“WHERE’S SEAT 20?!”

I chuckled. Boy, whichever poor sap was in seat 20 was about to have a shitty fucking time on this trip. Didn’t envy *that* poor schmuck one bi- Hang on a second, I’m in seat 20.

I watched, dismayed, as she howled over to my aisle and took the seat next to me, immediately spreading her knees and elbows out wide, puncturing directly into my own happy little bubble of personal space. Sighing, I folded myself into the smallest shape I could manage and pressed myself against the glass. It was me. I was the schmuck.

The woman fell asleep near immediately, allowing me some wiggle room in unfurling myself, which I immediately and gleefully took. This was a mistake. In my (outwardly) casual attempt to not cripple myself, I accidentally jostled her arm, which fell from its previous resting place, atop her fat tummy, directly onto my leg. This, obviously, was an intolerable turn of events and one I immediately rectified by pushing her hand away, into the gap between us. She responded to this, still asleep (I hope) by pushing her now loose hand, first under my thigh then snaking it upwards to my lower buttock. How had this gone so badly wrong. I tried for an embarrassing amount of time to subtly remove her pudgy little meathooks from my gentleman’s lady garden to no avail - many of my attempts seemingly only causing her to push in deeper - until eventually, I relented and decided instead to live with his unimaginable social torment and just fart on her hand periodically instead. Revenge is sweet. 

Eventually, nearly forty minutes late - it was Flixbus after all - we pulled in to Milan and the woman pulled her hand out of my unhappy anus. We bid each other adieu and went our separate ways into the city, never to see one another again. I absolutely fucking pray.

Reader of earlier entries to this blog will know that Milan’s Lampugnano bus station is, very helpfully, fucking ages away from the city center. Regardless, I decided to walk the distance one more, partly because the check-in time for my hostel dorm for the night was, once again at the irritatingly late 2PM, though mostly because I hadn’t figured out how to buy a ticket on Milan’s public transport system and at this point was beginning to be too stubborn to want to figure it out. So I walked. Shoulders be damned.

I arrived at my hostel at half past one - the time I had been let into the previous hostel - and so decided to push my luck. 

“Check in is 2.” the surly, bespectacled woman behind the counter snapped.

“Oh, okay.” I replied, knowing that anyway. 

She eyeballed me, sighed deeply as if absolutely done with my bullshit, despite me uttering literally two sentences since my arrival and began tapping on her keyboard.

“...One moment” she spat, clicking away, before stopping, looking up at me like I’d just spitroasted her cat and oozed out the words “...Your bed is ready.”

“Oh, lovely!” I beamed, quietly wondering what her shitty attitude was about if the room was already free and me being in it thirty minutes early, to the best of my knowledge, affected her life in absolutely not one way I could imagine. She grunted and threw a key at my face. 

A far cry from the yesterday’s hostel, this one had absolutely no charm to it at all. It was sterile, impersonal and shoved rules in your face in almost every direction you turned

So homely. Also, as a side note "we will have to use the oxidation blade to open your locker" is an absurd claim. The door to mine was nearly hanging off its hinges and one solid yank cold have collapsed the whole thing.

Also my assigned bed was an upper bunk in a corner of a four-person dorm, in which all the residual heat of the room coalesced, making my bed and my bed, alone, the hottest place on fucking earth. I turned the heating off immediately and clambered into it, regardless, to relax my aching body. Maybe if I thought of it as a kind of sauna it wouldn’t be so bad, even though I absolutely hate saunas. 

It wasn’t long before I met two of my erstwhile roommates. A couple of loud-ass, basic-ass Polish Erasmus students*. My favourite. 

They had been separated from their other two loud-ass, basic-ass cohorts by the hostel’s callous room-assignment computer system and they were not happy about it, one bit, no sir. As luck would have it, though, they had bumped into two entirely different Mexican Erasmus students staying in the other room who were willing to switch dorms with them. As absolutely thrilled for them as I was - and I was very thrilled - the upshot of this entire encounter was that my dorm room had now become a sort of low-key, very very boring party-central for two different groups of Erasmus dullards to mingle and hoot and discuss their various business management courses. It’s always fucking business management. Anyway, my answer to that was a firm and emphatic “no.”, so I packed my laptop away and left, hoping against hope that by the time I returned they would all be dead. 

(*for those of you reading unfamiliar with Erasmus, it’s a sort of foreign exchange program you can enter into while in university, which the students who partake of it use as a replacement for genuine personality.)

I grabbed a quick lunch in the form of a pre-packaged sandwich (with the crusts already cut off because Italians are babies) from a supermarket, before heading to the Milan museum of natural history - noting that entry was free on the third Tuesday of every month, which it was, and thus taking that as a cosmic sign that I should go look at a mammoth for a bit or whatever.

The museum was actually really quite a good one, despite nearly all of it being described only in Italian and while I thought it, initially, to be a bit titchy and shit, I was delighted to discover that the initial part of the museum - which I had thought to be the full thing - was actually augmented by multiple other, hidden away floors of exhibits, a good number of them chock full of some pretty fucking stanky examples of bad taxidermy, which, as anyone who’s even passed a quick eye over this blog or spoken to me in person for even a second in real life will know, is absolutely my jam. So expect a big dump of photos of that after this entry.

Brace yourself...

For dinner, I decided to get some famous Milano pizza. Milan, of course, being the birthplace of the dish and it wasn’t until I was outside my chosen restaurant that I remembered that it’s actually Napoli rather than Milan that pizza originated in and I’m actually very stupid. Consequently, out of a potent mixture of embarrassment and irritation, I ended up getting some nice pizza-esque foccacias, instead. Milan is probably famous for those, right? Right.

Back in the hostel, I was left alone in my otherwise unoccupied room for hours hours and - again - anyone who’s ever met me in person will tell you that I firmly believe that not being around people is fucking sick, so I was obviously having the time of my ruddy life.

At around eleven, fatigue set in. I clicked my light off, lay my head on the pillow and I swear to Italian Jesus, literally less than thirty seconds after I had done this, the doors to the room burst open and the Erasmus girls returned, followed shortly after by the other occupant of the room who, if I am being as charitable as I possibly could be, I could only really describe as ‘The king regent of all fuckbois’. 

I anticipated some noise on their return. That was fine. It’s impractical and unfair to expect everyone to be as great and also handsome as I am, while staying in a dorm. What I did not expect, however, were all the lights to go on and for Fuckboibot 2000; a robot sent back in time from the near future to neg all women, to spend a full forty five minutes, loudly opening, closing and reopening his suitcase, banging his locker door shut at full force and generally being as loud and shit a roommate and person as it was possible for him to be, which apparently is so shit that it even transcents what I thought to be a human being’s limit of shitness and yes I am including Hitler in that.

Finally though, sick of making all the noise he possibly could, like a baby sick of its rattle he settled into his bunk for the night, presumably to wind down for the evening, looking at mean spirited memes and sliding into the DMs of unwilling and disinterested women as I lay in the darkness and plotted my incredibly petty revenge. 

[jumboking-burger]

QSRs can unlock opportunities in 2022

I remember the days back in my childhood when restaurants used to hand over menu cards that were 20 pages long, with each page listing 20-25 dishes. Now the server just hands you a QR code and whispers discreetly that a few items are not available. COVID has been a much needed vanity check for brands, especially QSRs.The magic 'twosome' of focus and discipline are back.

The silverThe silver lining of 2021 has been the success of IPOs in the QSR space. This has created a never before opportunity for investors that are looking to diversify their portfolio beyond tech. Those who missed the bus in the first round will want to join the party in the second round. QSR brands that expand in a focused manner will grow visibly. More IPOs will be seen over the next decade or so, from Indian origin brands.

The ‘business mantra’ for 2022 will be to ‘go an inch wide and a mile deep… instead of “go a mile wide and an inch deep.’ As this philosophy gains acceptance- The most disciplined brands will win. Focussed brands that have survived the pandemic, will scale rapidly to 1000+ stores. Their familiarity has served as a soothing balm for a world recovering from the ambiguity of COVID. They will continue to innovate, offer value and retain the trust they have earned. Together with the international chains, they will spawn dozens of companies in the contract manufacturing space to meet their needs.

Around this hub will be an ecosystem of cloud kitchens, online deliveries and offline retail will find their own space in people’s lives, they will expand the market rather than cannibalize each other.

India is a very large market. Even if only 20% of us belong to the affording class, that number is equivalent to the entire population of the USA. This understanding of the power of India’s consumers, has dawned universally, in the last decade. From cricket viewership to mobile phone purchases India is leading everywhere.

With improved road infrastructure and connectivity brands will find it easier to penetrate tier 2 and tier 3 towns. Restaurant brands will be able to unlock their potential and amplify availability million-fold.

With the virtual presence of QSRs amplified beyond physical locations, off-premise dining will grow. On the consumer side-

1.As every individual seeks to contribute to household income, the demand for eating out will increase. Indians will be eating out 14-15 times a week from the current 2-3 times.

2. Occasion-based social-dining is back with lockdown relaxations, even as

Mobile ordering has soared. Curbside pickup has found new life. Third-party delivery has morphed from an experiment to a necessity. Drive-throughs have found more takers

3. Customers will be spoilt for choice, hence businesses will have to offer greater ‘value, efficiency and trust.’

4. There will be a perceptible improvement in restaurant designs as the youth will want to associate with brands they have a rapport with.

5. Each consumption opportunity will have to be serviced appropriately- for e.g. the digital menu will contain products that ‘travel well’ for delivery and a separate in-store menu will offer food that is best served hot at the store itself.

There is no better time for entrepreneurship than now and no better place for it than India. More and more people want greater ownership of their future. Franchising as a business model will hence, grow rapidly and this will be a huge boost to the QSRs. Entrepreneurs will discover many options to start a business, cocooned within a brand’s safety net. We have survived one of the most difficult periods in human business history. The table is set for ingenuity and customer-centricity. While none of us will look back fondly on the pandemic, we will always have to acknowledge that this period helped us fast track into a new era for the restaurant industry.

[yutadori]

ah i have this playlist of a handful of sumika songs that i really love that i made when i first got into them last summer and i remember listening to it on repeat a lotttt when i would go to therapy/go home from therapy and... :/ sometimes ill listen to it mindlessly and other times ill be hit with a moment of nostalgia? and a bit of sadness because my life was so different a year ago,,,, that was around the time where i started seeing my (now) prev therapist and i remember how happy and appreciative i was to be able to see her again.... and the long 2 hour rides to therapy and 2 hours back... waiting for the buses just waiting and waiting while i spent time just thinking and reflecting on what we'd talked about that day or id be on my phone scrolling and scrolling because the buses were taking too long.... i really miss that and i remember my friends would question if i minded going there and if it was worth it since it took up a good portion of my day but i really miss it.... it was time where i got to be on my own and in an area i was unfamiliar with, yet familiar with because i went there every week.... but yeah,,,, idk where this post is going LOL but i really miss that summer ):