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anakinthetrashking · 3 years

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the batkids as things I did in school

Dick:

take dance class and be friends with everyone even though there was some weird infighting going on between everyone. forget to do the assignment to make up a dance ourselves, just improv'd it and got a good grade, somehow. had the most fun slipping down the hallways in socks.

halfway through the year asked to have a free period instead of ASL 3, bc the teacher wasn't teaching us anything or even keeping it interesting so I spent the whole afternoon in Physics class instead.

went all out for 80s day during Spirit Week but turns out no one else did. got a lot of weird looks and concerned questions that day. one kid said I looked like a jumpscare. thanks dude.

missed more than half of my statistics classes but was still getting a better grade than the seniors I sat near. 😭

Barbara:

got really angry when the Pre-AP Bio teacher disnt know whether Carbon was 6 or 8 on the Periodic Table. 14yr old me thought that it was extremely important to know as a science teacher. failed the first 6wks, got moved to a regular bio class, was late everyday but the teacher still loved me. found and identified a tumor in the stomach of the pig we dissected in class. Can still sing the entire DNA song(to the tune of I Want it That Way) word for word over 10yrs later. Still gets stuck in my head sometimes.

kept getting told off in sewing class bc we weren't supposed to hold the pins in our mouth while sewing bc it's dangerous if we accidentally swallow them but that's what I was used to doing at home.

Jason:

stunned the much older kids in my class playing Hangman by looking up and immediately guessing "Labyrinth" from the few letters that everyone else had guessed (one of them looked up what the hardest word was for the game and that was it. it would have been if I wasn't so obsessed with Phantom of the Opera and the David Bowie Labyrinth movie at that point in time)

read all of the short stories in that years English textbook within the first month of school every year

Cass:

smile at people (esp teachers) so wide that id have to close my eyes, and then immediately dropping the smile. (it gave me a break from eye contact and trying to figure out what expression I "should" have in that moment)

Everytime I joyfully played in the rain during lunch and then froze my butt off during afternoon classes in the AC.

also the times I was late for afternoon class bc I was overjoyed at seeing snow.

Tim:

was too overwhelmed to actually do the required amount of weekly reading so I just picked classic books I had already read and picked a random place to put the bookmark and easily answered the teachers questions on what I was "reading"

be a "gifted" student so I was put in the fast track math class but was too anxious to deal with that teacher's incessant yelling at the students so I begged them to put me in a different class. they put me in a regular paced class and told me to just go ahead and do the fast track by myself at my own pace. got distracted and never did the work. switched schools the next year and got put in the next math up and totally regretted it but was in too deep to back out.

dropped out of public school in 11th grade to have a mental breakdown ✌️ eventually finished HS later through online classes and stuff.

Steph:

get hooked on Kpop bc the one friend I had made moved away and now I was stuck with her friends at lunch without much of anything in common so we had to make something.

fell asleep in class bc I was awake all night watching kdramas.

had to do a report on a European country and then got overly attached to the country of Moldova...

Duke:

only got detention twice in all of the years of school. once for being late all the time and once for not turning in my homework on time(the teach didn't want to give me detention but she threatened everyone with it and it was only fair)

Always skipped Pep Rallys and hung out in the Orchestra room instead. also ate lunch in one of the empty practice rooms behind the band hall with friends bc we could :)

got overly excited about black hole radiation and decided to ask my then science teacher about it and was SUPER disappointed when she didn't know anything about it (despite it being a fairly new concept at the time and she only taught middle school non-specific science)

Damian:

got put in theatre class to fill an empty spot on my schedule, enjoyed it IMMENSELY, got assigned "weirdo kid" role by the teacher for the end of year play. really went all out to play up the weirdo role. probably could have just been myself and it would've been enough.

managed to get into a Ceramics class without taking an applicable basic art credit first. the teacher thought it was weird but she didn't kick me out!

all three times I was asked out I turned them down brutally because I didn't really understand social convention. whoops. sorry dudes.

accidentally offended someone when I said that Art 1 was easy :/ (I think they thought I was saying art in general was easy, which. no. I was taking Art 1 as an online class and it was all the basic stuff about art I had learned from my older sis over the years)

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emilieautumnarchives · 2 years

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EA for Lime Mascara

Archived from Lime Mascara, 2004 [warning: archive is broken] Last accessed: 8/2/2022

The Chelsea: Violin/Backing Vocals - Emilie Autumn

Lime Mascara: For those of us, like me, who hadn't heard of you until Courtney Love recruited you what should we know about you. Basically give us a mini bio.

EA: As much as I really want to spare you the whole “I was born at a very young age…” bit, I suppose it serves a purpose. I began with the violin at age 4, and I’ve been at that game ever since. I’ve been writing (music and words) most of my life as well, and singing for a small part of it. I’ve trained with master teachers from all over the world, but had some of the best and worst experiences of my life while studying as a teen at Indiana University’s School of Music. I sold my horse so that I could devote myself entirely to music to an unnatural degree. When I was 17, I got a phone call from Nigel Kennedy, my violin hero. Ecstatic. When I was 18, I moved to England and was utterly disappointed in the Royal College of Music. Horror. Home was Malibu, CA, though it is now Chicago, which I perfectly adore because of the CTA. I am expecting a shipment of essential oils right now, including oil of green tea which I am very much interested in, and which is to serve as an ingredient in “Mistress,” the perfume I am in the midst of designing. I am getting a puppy next weekend and do not want to go on tour for that reason alone. I ought to have been born in the 16th century so that I could have served at the court of my all-time idol, Queen Elizabeth I. I’m in love with my boyfriend, Annie Lennox, “So Hard” by The Pet Shop Boys, and high tea.

Lime Mascara: What kind of music can we find on your solo albums?

EA: My first release was purely classical, just fiddle and harpsichords and lutes and Bach and such. Very corsets-and-crumpets, my favorite. It does have a few of my own little compositions, which I suppose de-purifies it in the eyes of the classical cognoscenti, but whatever. My second release was an EP called “Chambermaid” because it featured the track of the same name (but in quite a different version) from my subsequent full-length album, “Enchant.” The EP is worth your time mainly because of all the crazy remixes it’s got on it, as well as a gothic cathedral choir number, and a sexy cover of a song from “Cabaret.” Then, I put out a charity single called “By The Sword,” which is all about avenging wrongs and female knights and things – it’s for the 9/11 victims. The best part of this single is the video extra of another cover, “I Know It’s Over,” by The Smiths. Then comes “Enchant,” my first full-length solo album in the alt-rock, or “fantasy-rock” vein. I love this record so much, I can’t even tell you. It’s not egotistical, I swear, it’s just that it took me something like five years to make it due to stops and starts and different labels and other yucky things.

Lime Mascara: Other than violin, what instruments can you play?

EA: I can play the sewing machine and the whistling teapot. I can also play classical and jazz piano, viol da gamba , harpsichord, viola, electric, baroque, and modern fiddles, all manner of keys and computers, a bit of mandolin, and the riding crop.

Lime Mascara: Will you be adding violin to classic Hole songs on tour with Courtney?

EA: Absolutely, yes. I’ve already played several Hole numbers with CL in concert, and I think they’ve gone really well. “Violet” and “Celebrity Skin” are some of my favorites because I get to sing pretty much everything as well. I’m waiting for “Northern Star” which I really love, but we’ve been waiting on that one for some unknown reason…The Chelsea is an amazing band, and playing anything with them is a perfect pleasure.

Lime Mascara: When is the tour "supposed" to start?

EA: The “tour” is “supposed” to “actually” “start” on June 18th in…let me see…oh, in New Haven, CT. We’ve got 24 dates all across the US thus far, and then we’re off to Japan for Fuji Fest where Belle & Sebastian is also playing, to my giddy delight.

Lime Mascara: How did Courtney find you?

EA: Courtney found me through my website, www.emilieautumn.com. The way she tells it, she was looking online at “gothic lolita” fashion sites, and it became apparent that those who like EGL also like EA, which I think is just lovely. She then wrote me a very long letter and the phone calls began. The first call I got was on the night of my CD release party for “Enchant,” which is to say that I’ve never promoted my album properly because I’ve been running around with CL. It was a compromise, but I’m happy to do it for a friend I believe in.

Lime Mascara: How did the first meeting go?

EA: The first meeting…ah, bittersweet memories… The first meeting took place in France over the recording of “America’s Sweetheart.” Courtney was doing vocals when I walked into the Chateau and she was a bit preoccupied, but then so was I because I had the sweetest little Frenchman for a driver and I wanted him to live in my handbag. She started calling me “princess” which is coincidentally the name of her lapdog, and then played for me all of the demos that had been recorded by that point. Her energy very nearly blew me out of the room, but I‘ve since gotten used to that.

Lime Mascara: Do you have a designer for your outfits or do you design everything yourself?

EA: I have this little faerie who sits in my closet and if I feed her muffins she makes me corsets. Other than that, I do design and sew everything I wear onstage, and frequently off as well. Check out www.willowtechhouse.com or www.punkatorian.com if you’re so inclined. It’s got a bunch of my creations, some of which you can have for your very own.

Lime Mascara: So far, what has Courtney taught you about the music industry?

EA: You learn so much just be being on the road, and with Courtney, it’s times ten. Sometimes I feel like I’m in the army, and others I just feel privileged to be playing with such a great group of ladies; it really depends on what day it is. I was no stranger to questionable industry dealings when I came into this, and certain bits of what I’ve seen behind the scenes has done nothing to elevate my opinions of the major music industry as a whole. However, I have met some fantastic people whom I greatly respect (Peter Asher and all at Sanctuary), and that’s given me a bit of hope that perhaps you can operate on a large scale without losing your dignity. And I suppose it’s hardly worth mentioning, but I’ve learned that the media is largely a misogynistic monstrosity that lies without shame on a regular basis (the microphone incident that never happened…). I’ve also learned that a girl band is so totally the way to go.

Lime Mascara: When can we expect your next solo record?

EA: Do you mind if I have breakfast while we chat? While I feel that “Enchant” had a good deal of wretchedness in it, my next rock release will certainly multiply that, for better or for worse. It’s to be called “Opheliac,” and it’s all about the state of being in what I call the ‘ophelia syndrome’ of knowing what’s right and what’s good for you, and yet putting yourself in harm’s way just so that you can later go mad on someone else’s dime. Tracks will include “If I Burn,” a sweet little number about the witch burnings of 1645, “Opheliac,” the title track about the concept above mentioned, and “Mad Girl,” a lullaby to that lunatic part of my psychology that I am constantly trying to put to sleep. I am also in the midst of writing a melodramatic track called “Willow” which is a duet I intend to beg Morrissey to record with me. I’m writing the part for him alone, and if he doesn’t do it, the song will sit at the bottom of my sock drawer until the end of time because I’m not sharing it with anybody else. I plan to begin recording the new album once we arrive safely home from this impending tour. While I’m on the road, my new producer, Stuart Holverson, will be doing the preliminary mixing for a side project of mine to be released within the next couple of months. It’s called “The Jane Brooks Project,” and all I can say is that it’s very, very divergent from anything else you’ve heard me do. I truly hope you like it. After that, I’m planning to record some more classical violin, namely, the complete unaccompanied Bach Sonatas & Partitas, and the Teleman unaccompanied as well. I figure you can never get too much of plain, unbuttered violin in your ear.

#2004 #lime mascara #interviews #enchant era #courtney love

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dwellordream · 3 years

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“Girls’ schools promoted an intense female peer culture which contrasted with the disciplines of moralistic home environments. Evidence from the accounts of girls attending the myriad female seminaries and girls’ boarding schools throughout the Northeast suggests that their academic programs were relatively gentle, and that their peer culture was powerful and often fun. Despite the best efforts of outnumbered teachers, relations with friends tended to overshadow lessons learned. Overwhelmingly when girls wrote home to their parents, they described the girls they had met, and the antics they had shared; in diaries they noted the romantic intimacies they had formed, with academic work generating only occasional mention.

Girls’ peer life at school was high-spirited, collective, and ritualized all at once. Teachers themselves often participated. At Miss Porter’s in Farmington, Connecticut, in 1860, teachers organized a costume party, suggested characters for everyone, and helped sew costumes—perhaps in part a sewing lesson. (For Lily Dana, suggestions included an elf, Mischief, or a witch.) At a Prospect Hill School party in 1882, townspeople came, the girls wore flowers and white dresses, and Margaret Tileston reported that she had done the quadrille with Miss Clarke and the gallop with Miss Tuxbury—concluding that she had had ‘‘a very nice time.’’

Girls remembering their days at convent schools report similar good times. Julia Sloane Spalding recalled elegiacally her years at Nazareth Academy, a school run by the Sisters of Charity in Louisville, Kentucky, in the 1850s. ‘‘The sisters allowed us to romp and play, dance and sing as we pleased and our stage performances were amusing, if they had no greater merit. Musical soirees, concerts, serenades and minstrelsy kept our spirits attuned to gladness. Varied by picnics, lawn parties, hayrides, phantom parties, nutting parties in summer and candy pullings and fancy balls with Nazareth’s colored band to fiddle.’’

Exclaimed Spalding, ‘‘O what fun!’’ in fond reflection on the good times among the sisters who served ‘‘good substantial sandwiches, cakes and fruit’’ from ‘‘great big baskets.’’ She concluded, ‘‘and so, the spice of life conduced to our health and happiness.’’ Mary Anne Murphy arrived at Nazareth Academy with her sister in 1859 during a quadrille, the slave musicians calling out the figures. She and her sister stood in ‘‘wonderment that such fun was tolerated in a convent.’’ Whatever the nostalgia of middle age, certainly these reflections suggest that elite Catholic and Protestant girls’ academies left some of their richest memories in collective fun.

If teachers sponsored some activities, they implicitly sanctioned many more. Wilfrida Hogan attended the Sisters of St. Joseph convent school in St. Paul in the 1870s and remembers fondly her class, which was known for its lively irreverence: ‘‘Each girl seemed to view the other as to who could play the biggest pranks, or have the most fun.’’

Ellen Emerson overflowed with delight in a letter to her mother (significantly, not her father) while at Miss Sedgwick’s School in Lenox, Massachusetts: ‘‘Every night we do things which it seems to me I can never remember without laughing if I should live to be a hundred. The most absurd concerts, ludicrous charades, peculiar battles etc. etc. Then the wildest frolics, the loudest shrieks, the most boisterous rolling and tumbling that eye ever saw, ear ever heard or heart ever imagined. I consider myself greatly privileged that every night I can see and join such delightful romps.’’

When teachers were around, the pranks were more likely to occur upstairs in student bedrooms. Lily Dana and friends joined together to victimize two other girls by putting crumbs in their bed, and cutting off candle wicks. Another evening Dana noted that she ‘‘Had some fun throwing pillows and nightgowns,’’ and though Miss Porter caught her, it did not seem to dampen much her spirits. Teachers at girls’ schools were occasion- ally disciplinarians, clearly.

One teacher told Lily Dana that ‘‘she supposed my mother let me do everything,’’ and the sisters at St. Mary’s Academy in South Bend, Indiana, turned the piano to the wall in order to keep girls from waltzing with each other. Yet students often emerged victorious; at St. Mary’s they played combs for dance music instead. (One participant reported that ‘‘the Sisters had to give up, for they knew not what to do.’’) The ideology of nurture combined with the shared exuberance of age mates overpowered much teacherly remonstrance.

It is sometimes hard to read such tales of schoolgirl exuberance without wondering whether the inmates had taken over the asylum, however, so a corrective is in order. One such account which requires a second look is the spirited account of Agnes Repplier, In Our Convent Days (1906), about her time in the late 1860s at a Pennsylvania school run by the Sisters of the Sacred Heart. Repplier writes of the pranks and passions of her band of seven partners in crime, in an ebulliant account designed to appeal to a readership newly attracted to childhood naughtiness in revolt against Victorian propriety. It is clear in retrospect, though, that she must have concealed or minimized an- other side to her experiences. For the denouement of her story is her expulsion and removal from a school she adored.

Peer cultures could also be cruel and hurtful beyond the control of evangelical teachers, as the practices of hazing in British public schools testify. Some of the most painful memories of inclusion and exclusion in girls’ schools centered around that most primal of media, the sharing of food. Food boxes, customarily sent from home, were the occasion for impromptu parties, a demonstration of wealth and taste, or an opportunity to play favorites.

The elation which greeted such arrivals might well prove a commentary on the regular fare at boarding schools, which sometimes undoubtedly was very poor. (The advice giver Mary Virginia Terhune’s critique of girls’ boarding schools included the accusation that they fed their students from a ‘‘common vat’’ which supplied breakfast, dinner, and supper all together, a practice partially confirmed by one account of eating the same stew at least twice a day at an Ursuline academy in San Antonio in the 1890s.)

At any rate, the arrival of food from home occasioned select gatherings and provided opportunities for discrimination among friends. When one friend’s mother brought good things to eat, Josie Tilton noted that ‘‘we’’ had a feast tonight, explaining for the future who she would always mean when she said ‘‘we’’—‘‘Lizzie, Emma, May and I’’— the groupness secured by inclusion in this select group of diners.

Lily Dana suspected a friend of being miserly and so snuck into her room to inspect. ‘‘There was a box which had been filled with cake, part of a pie and several other things filling her trunk nearly half full. . . . If I had a box sent to me I think I should give my friend more than ‘five or six cookies.’’’ If girls could feel short-changed by each other, relations with parents could also strain over the sending of food boxes, which represented extremely conspicuous con- sumption for girls attempting to ‘‘belong.’’

In an unusually direct letter home in the 1840s, Maria Nellis passed on to her parents her unmediated hurt and sense of disadvantage in the competition for food—and the status that came with it. Elizabeth got her box yesterday and was favoured with six times more things than I was. Her box was so large and heavy the master found it his match to carry it upstairs. She has 4 kinds of cake, nuts, apples, candy, clothing and every thing else, but after all, Dear Poppy, I am not jealous. . . . When you sent that box you did not send half what I asked. I was very disappointed. You said it would be eatables, but it wasn’t. You sent only a few apples, one cake and some clothes. Why didn’t you send me some nuts? I haven’t had a nut yet this winter, and indeed I expected nuts above all things. E. Fox had a box worth speaking of. Now that shows that you don’t care enough for me to even send me a few nuts.

Intermittently, Nellis regained control, but her grievance was palpable. Finally at the end, she acknowledged to her parents that she might be hurting their feelings, reassured them that she loved them all with ‘‘a deep and fervent love,’’ and promised better behavior in the future. Clearly at stake for her was both status in the school world and a primitive sense of deprivation in her own family.

As the correspondence suggests, the emotional atmosphere in girls’ boarding schools was not only intense but more expressive and enacted than that within moralistic, Victorian households. Within private, female, boarding academies, duty-bound Victorian daughters learned languages of sentiment, desire, and emotional excess censored from other parts of their lives. The elaborate conventions accompanying the expression and affirmation of affection among boarding-school girls, sometimes involving teachers as well, was indeed a separate ‘‘female world of love and ritual,’’ as Carroll Smith-Rosenberg affirmed in a classic article about nineteenth-century women’s culture.

In recent years, Smith-Rosenberg’s ‘‘Female World of Love and Ritual’’ has been attacked for its overgeneralizing characterization of an exclusively female emotional sphere in the nineteenth century, but her strongest evidence confirms the significance, the power, and the longevity of girls’ boarding school friendships, which were enacted through elaborate rituals in a range of schools.

The rituals of boarding school life centered around the making and breaking of special friendships, known variously as ‘‘affinities,’’ ‘‘specials,’’ or ‘‘darlings’’ and increasingly as either ‘‘smashes’’ or ‘‘crushes.’’ One way of expressing interest was to ‘‘filipine’’ with someone, to leave her a surprise gift outside her door. (When Lily Dana was caught, she needed to give her gift, a large apple, outright.) Such relationships played out in diaries, letters, and the poetry of autograph books. Girls expected to pair up for many school activities and entertained a variety of ‘‘dates’’ with different girls for walking, going to church, and sleeping.

Sally Dana wrote home to her mother explaining that she was following her father’s advice not to form special friendships too soon, and so had ‘‘slept in eight different beds.’’ During these private moments, girls would share secrets about their own likes and dislikes, each other, their teachers, families, and their school lives. The intricacy of such social calendars opened ample opportunities for misunderstanding and frayed feelings.

These peer relationships characterized elite female seminaries in the North- east, but they also appeared in a range of schools, including the African American Scotia Seminary, founded by the American Missionary Association in Concord, North Carolina, following the Civil War. Scotia had northern roots, which may have influenced its student culture. Glenda Gilmore tells us it was modeled on Mount Holyoke, and was ‘‘calculated to give students the knowledge, social consciousness, and sensibilities of New England ladies, with a strong dose of Boston egalitarianism sprinkled in.’’

Roberta Fitzgerald went to Scotia in the early twentieth century and kept a composition book, likely in 1902, which was filled with the talismans of schoolgirl crushes. A note inside addressed to ‘‘Dear Roberta’’ asked, ‘‘Will you please exchang rings with me today and you may ware mine again,’’ and Roberta herself wrote a sad poem to a friend ‘‘Lu’’ who had thrown her over.

And so you see as I am deemed

Most silently to wait

I cannot but be womanlike

And meekly await my fate.

Ah! sweet it is to love a girl

But truly oh! how bitter

To love a girl with all your heart

And then to hear ‘‘Cant get her.’’

And Lulu dear as I must here

Relinquish with a moan

May your joys be as deep as the ocean

And your sorrow as light as its foam.

On the back of the notebook, which also contained class assignments, was a confidence exchanged with a seatmate. ‘‘I was teasing Bess Hoover about you and she told me she loved you dearly.’’

For those much in demand, this charged atmosphere of flirtation and intimacy in the North and South represented an exhilarating round of fun and sport. For those less secure, diaries and letters presented an obvious outlet for the anguish of the neglected. Agnes Hamilton, a member of a Fort Wayne clan which sent several daughters to boarding school on their way to prominent careers in progressive America, experienced some of both. Sometimes she basked in the glow of family reputation; often she worried over her own inability to keep up with her illustrious cousins. Her unusually detailed accounts document an entire school culture rather than just an individual emotional life.

Hamilton’s first impressions of school social life at Miss Porter’s School were favorable, but even these revealed insecurities to come. In an entry from November 1886, when she was seventeen, Hamilton noted that ‘‘Farmington is just as perfect as they all said it would be, the girls, Miss Porter, and all.’’ Her reservation had to do with her own imperfections: ‘‘But I don’t think I am the right sort of a Farmington girl.’’ Even so, Agnes was in demand, describing a flurry of close attentions from numerous girls. A week later, in her cousin’s absence, she received displaced attentions:

Yesterday Mannie was very nice to me. I suppose she thinks I am lonely without Alice. We walked past the fill around by the river to the graveyard. Then she came in and we talked for an hour. All evening we were together. This afternoon we walked together too for Tuesday is her day with Alice. We went down to the green house where Mannie gave me some lovely roses. I would give anything to know what she thinks of me. . . . Will I ever be able to talk and be jolly as other girls? Some girls are frightfully stupid and yet they can make themselves somewhat agreeable. I have struck up a sudden friendship with Lena Farnam. We were together Saturday afternoon and evening and Sunday I asked her to be my church girl in Alice’s place.

Agnes was still in a position to be picky, noting one drawback: Lena ‘‘seems very nice indeed but I wish she were not only fifteen.’’ Lena was far from the only prospect. Agnes noted another new friend: ‘‘I have seen a great deal lately of Edith Trowbridge too. When she overcomes her shyness she will be exceedingly nice.’’ Not surprisingly, with all the intensity of the socializing, Agnes mentioned with no comment that only three out of thirteen in the class were prepared for their lessons that Tuesday. In those early weeks, Agnes Hamilton’s enthusiasm for this exciting life of emotional intrigue was palpable. The next week (she seems to have written on Tuesdays), Agnes announced to her diary ‘‘the jolliest crush in school’’ involving one of her very own intimates of the week before.

‘‘I walked with Edith Trowbridge this afternoon, on purpose to have her tell me about Lena. I hinted and hinted in vain. I told her about every other crush in school but she never said a word about Lena’s, so at last I told her that I knew all about it but even then she would not say a word about the subject. I hope she will tell Lena so that she will speak to me about it next Saturday when we are driving.’’ The triangulation of such relationships increased the possibilities for intrigue. Agnes wearied a bit of the uncooperative Edith, though, observing that though ‘‘very nice . . . she did not get over her stiffness.’’

Agnes Hamilton seemed to be trying to do her schoolwork, but her roller- coaster social life intervened. One day when she was preparing for class, a friend came by to teach her a dance step, from which she was interrupted by the arrival of a buggy she had rented to take another friend for a ride, the same girl whose ‘‘jolly’’ crush had amused her the week before. (‘‘The more I see of her the better I like,’’ she now reported. ‘‘Her face is rather attractive at first and then it grows on one.’’) When she returned, she found another visitor who stayed till it was time for tea.

The result: ‘‘I have not looked at my Mental since Thursday.’’ By the end of the same day, yet a new ‘‘crush’’ had taken over when Agnes got word of someone’s interest in her, and Agnes wondered ‘‘if I have ever been as actively happy.’’ The frenzy had settled down a week later, when Agnes announced that she had all her walking days ‘‘just as I want them.’’ Each day of the week was assigned a different companion, with whom Agnes would exchange intimacies and gossip, using the rituals of girls’ school life to structure its emotional extravagance.

One must conclude that the intensity of the social life was seen to serve some purpose, for evidence suggests that it was allowed to flourish until the turn of the century. (Lily Dana noted that Miss Porter’s permission had been sought for at least one and probably more sleeping dates.) At that time, new sexualized interpretations of girls’ and women’s friendships brought a crackdown on such friendships. At the time, though, they appear to have received official sanction. In fact, one of the first of Ladies’ Home Journal ’s ‘‘Side Talks with Girls’’ took up the question of ‘‘School Girl Friendships.’’ The Journal endorsed such girlish relationships for their innocence and energy and their precious brevity, saluting ‘‘the giddy, gushing period’’ as one which ‘‘never comes to some and to most it soon passes.’’

In particular, it contrasted this girlish spontaneity with the superficiality of the jaded young lady. Its contrast of ‘‘young girls, lively, radiant, energetic, spirited, loving girls’’ with ‘‘young ladies who talk of their beaux, dresses and the surface shows of society’’ represented another version of a conventional warning against precociousness. Girls’ crushes on other girls were still perceived as innocent and healthy—and would be well after doctors first began to cast suspicion over such relationships in the 1880s and 1890s.”

- Jane H. Hunter, “Competitive Practices: Sentiment and Scholarship in Secondary Schools.” in How Young Ladies Became Girls: The Victorian Origins of American Girlhood

#victorian #history #education #sexuality #american #jane h. hunter #how young ladies became girls

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vaguelybatman · 5 years

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Fiddler + prime numbers ;)

(ngl I had to look up what numbers were prime)

(1 is a prime number technically, right?) First song you listened to, i remember singing Matchmaker in the 6th grade choir but our teacher didn’t explain what it was about very well in retrospect. Tradition is a classic and probably the first one i actually listened to first when I knew anything about the story.

2. Favorite song, The Rumor is fun. I really like Dear Sweet Sewing Machine but it never made it to the actual soundtrack and is just in the bonus. Of the songs from the original Broadway recording, probably Miracle of Miracles (Basically i like the majority of the songs)

3 Least Favorite Song, Chavaleh/Tevye’s Denial

5 Least Favorite Scene, probably the scene around Chavaleh. I know it’s important and everything but it’s such a dramatic shift from the other daughters and i’ve never been a fan

7 Favorite character, THE TAILOR MOTEL KAMZOIL

11 favorite actor portrayal of x character, you forgot to give me a person since you only said prime numbers lol. I love Adam Kantor as Motel (There’s a theme here)

13 how’d you hear of it, I’m not sure really how i heard of it. I sang matchmaker in choir in middle school but didn’t really get into it until college. probably when i started looking into Judaism itself. Pretty sure I actually saw the movie first but idk what would have possessed me to watch a 3.5hr movie without already being invested.

17 dream cast, i have a special place in my heart for the 2015 cast so idk really who i would change but i might shift some of the cast around from different adaptions. maybe Molly Picon as Yente, who played her in the movie version and Daniel Kahn as Perchik from the Yiddish cast because he basically is modern day Perchik. The choice of Tevye is difficult because Zero Mostel, Topel, and Danny Burstein are all iconic to me but I’d still probably have to go with Danny because he has a really warm presence to me.

19 if you could change one thing, what would it be, spend a little more time with Hodel x Perchik and Chava x Fyedka. The whole first act is devoted to Tzeitel and Motel and i love them but then the other girls relationships are rushed through. Maybe it’s supposed to be that way because Tevye is the narrator and it all came up fast for him and he was a little preoccupied but it would be nice to see more of them getting to know each other.

23 pre-broadway or broadway, i don’t know if i’ve seen anything pre-broadway per se but if i had to choose between the movie version or broadway, i’d choose broadway.

29 favorite backstory headcanon, Motel’s father passed before the events of the show which is why he isn’t featured or mentioned but they name their son after him. I like the name Shmuly personally. Also it might be naive but that the girls were all able to keep in touch with each other. they might not have been able to get together right away but eventually they are all able to end up in New York with Tevye, Golda, and the younger girls.

(Bonus, favorite spoken line, EVEN A POOR TAILOR IS ENTITLED TO SOME HAPPINESS)

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radellama · 5 years

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taggg

Answer 21 questions and tag 21 people you want to know better.

Tagged by: @starstealingirl

Nicknames: Rads / Ads... I like Rads more

Zodiac Sign: Aires

Height: no clue.. average for a female ig

Hogwarts House: dont care

The Last Thing I Googled: properties for rent close in my town lol.. im trying to move out

Favorite Musicians: Yasunori Mitsuda? Jamie Cullum?? sjalkhd I dont really know ig I just like the artists I have in my playlist

Some Song Stuck in My Head: Roslyn by Cullen

Following: 423 (but it feels like only 4 are active rip)

Followers: 153

Do You Get Asks: rarely.. I usually get asks on my Chrono sideblog but even then its only a few

Amount of Sleep: anywhere between 2-7 hours usually... yea I don’t sleep very well lol

Lucky Number: 9

What You’re Wearing: My long loose black pants and my very long black cardigan with my grey polygonal 1998 spyro shirt.. basically classic drama teacher look minus the graphic on my tee

Dream Job: fuuuccckkk I don’t know.. I currently work as an assistant editor in a media company, but I don’t know if I want to continue this looong term or branch out into other media stuff and study and get into making movies and shit,, or I could go study fine arts or even recently I’ve become re-interested in sewing so studying dressmaking wouldn’t be so bad..... ughghg I just don’t know and none of these are easy options lmao

Dream Trip: Japan.... I was forced to forfeit my scholarship to study there and couldn’t make it to the school trip either.... :’(

Instruments: ocarina??? I guesss??? I can only play like 2 1/2 songs on there tho and no one can teach?? Bad singing is my instrument

Languages: English..studying Japanese

Favorite Songs: I’m just gonna list a few I’ve liked recently

- SEVDALIZA - HUBRIS

- The Cinematic Orchestra - 'To Believe feat. Moses Sumney'

- Julia Henderson - Corridors of Time

- Fenne Lily - More Thank You Know

- Richard Walters - July Bones

- George Ogilvie - Surveillance

- Billie Marten - Heavy Weather

- RY X - Deliverance

- Matt Maltese - Even If It's a Lie

- Local Natives - Mt. Washington

- Timberwolf - Washed Out

- Ocean Alley - The Comedown

- Jamie Cullem - Get a Hold of Yourself

Random Fact: uhhhh.... Chrono Trigger (1995) is the best video game I don’t make the rules. Also any edge villain you like, Magus did it first and he did it better

Aesthetic: muted, desaturated colours, low contrast in photos, focal colours in monochrome, the trees in autumn and winter, rain in the evening, heavy and fluffy blankets, shelves filled with books and dvds you love, long cadigans, phone calls that go on for hours, old video games, watching star trek with a nice warm drink, freshly made hot chocolate, messy but nice curls.....

I’m just going to tag @chronomedley @kanonavi @fanimefreak @themodelthecitythesoul @wigwoo-what-is-my-life @bowieboosh @ask-captain-faris @cynk-pop cause they’re people in my notes a lot lol

#tag game #dojsjosoj #thanks for the tag <3 #hope y'all don't mind me tagging.. feel no obligation to do this if you don't want

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ohdannybcy · 6 years

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DANIEL “DANNY” GRAY is a 23 year old from BEAUMONT, living in Beaumont for the past 18 YEARS, MOVED AWAY FOR COLLEGE & MOVED BACK ABOUT 9 MONTHS AGO. HE is a FIFTH GRADE TEACHER AT BEAUMONT ELEMENTARY and in his downtime loves CREATING CONTENT/ MAKEUP TUTORIALS FOR HIS YOUTUBE CHANNEL and BAKING. He looks an awful lot like TROYE SIVAN.

TW: gaslighting, manipulation, general gross ex boyfriends

so first things first: danny is a local boiy. his family has been in beaumont for generations and they’ll probably end up staying there for generations more. his dad was a high school government/history teacher and a football coach and his mom taught third grade, both who retired within the last few years. danny’s the youngest of four and was a bit of a surprise baby, coming along after his older siblings were all teenagers/preteens. because of the large age gap between them, he isn’t really that close with his siblings but there’s definite love and acceptance in abundance in that family.

danny came out to his family at fourteen as gay though it really came as no surprise to any of them— danny was a bit of a walking gay cliché. the world was the danny show growing up- there are heaps of home videos of little danny wearing his sister’s beauty queen tiaras and his mama’s high heels singing dolly parton and leann rimes into the handle of the vacuum cleaner and countless other expressions of his inner diva. there was never a second where danny doubted that his family still loved and accepted him regardless of who he was attracted to.

danny started a youtube channel when he was fourteen just as a fun thing to do where he would talk about being a young gay man in the middle of small town tennessee, his friends, high school, family and everything in between. it wasn’t until he started to express himself with make up and fashion- creating make up tutorials and sewing tutorials ( classic thrift store finds that were turned into something more Glamorous ) that his channel started to gain more traction. it’s not huge but he’s got a solid following and he’s kept his channel going through college and now as an adult.

when he was fifteen, danny tried out for the beaumont high school cheerleading squad and was on it until he graduated. he’d taken gymnastics when he was younger- a way for him to channel so much of that excess energy he had- and flourished as a tumbler and had the full body strength and control that made him an asset no matter what position of a stunt he was in. most of the time he was a back- the control system of the stunt- but he also spent time as a flyer due to his smaller stature.

his reputation of being a walking cliche only became more apparent when he started dating the quarterback- a cheerleader and the quarterback, how many times have we heard this story? jackson- or, as danny affectionately called him, jj- was everything that a first love was supposed to be and it was the sort relationship that gets written about in teenage romance novels. even their parents were convinced this was a Forever Thing.

however whenever those college acceptance letters came in, life had a different plan. long distance wasn’t feasible and there was a mutual respect of the other and wanting them to be able to go off and experience everything that college had to offer without the ball and chain of a boyfriend waiting several states away.

danny left to attend college at the university of mephis, initially pursuing a degree in fashion design. the demands of the course though paired with a dip in his mental health- being away from home for the first time in a place where he knew no one, still getting over the break up with jackson- had him changing majors at the end of his freshman year to elementary education.

that was the start of an upswing for danny- he felt comfortable and happy in his new major, a new focus on what he wanted to do with his life, friends and a community in memphis and, the icing on the cake, a new boyfriend. jonathan was charming and made danny feel like the most important person in the world. that first year was everything he wanted it to be but not long after they moved in together things started to change.

jonathan started spending more time out with his friends, making a point to mention that danny was not included, staying out all night and coming home smelling like other people. any time that danny tried to confront him about this, jonathan would turn it around on danny, putting the blame on him and manipulating him into thinking it was all in his head or that it was his fault- that he wasn’t doing enough to keep his boyfriend loyal. the relationship wasn’t healthy and danny was so deeply entrenched in the lies that jonathan told him, wanting only to believe what he was being told ( that he was just being crazy, that nothing was really going on ) that he allowed himself to even be swept up in an engagement that would be broken by jonathan a few months before graduation.

the broken off engagement, though would be MUCH better in the long run, destroyed danny. it was with the help of awesome friends who helped move him out of the apartment and let him couch surf and constantly supported him until graduation that he kept his head above water. the second the graduated, he packed up his car and drove home, needing a fresh start in a place that was familiar.

he started teaching fifth at beaumont elementary in august and at first, he’d honestly been apprehensive. he’d always wanted to teach younger kids- first through third grade- ‘before they discover talking back’. the last few months teaching though have been life changing and he loves his job- his principal and other teachers are wonderful and his kids are Everything.

A COUPLE OF JUST LIL TIDBITS ABOUT DANNY

CHARACTER INSPIRATION: jonathan van ness & tan france (queer eye), eric ‘bitty’ bittle (omgcp), felix dawkins (orphan black)

danny still wears makeup every day and takes great pride in his appearance. basically, he vain as fuck. when he first started experimenting with make up and clothing, it was definitely in some way to be very Out with who he was— think like those classic scene neon colors in eyeshadows and bright pink lips. and oh yeah, he definitely had the chucks in ever color. as he’s gotten older, his sense has definitely grown and now he looks back at those pictures and cringes.

he’s still very active!! he goes to the gym for the treadmill and machines sometimes but most of his physical activity is walking around the high school track with his mama on nights- she does it to keep herself fit and he does it to keep her company. he keeps toying with the idea of teaching tumbling or cheer classes on week nights/weekends but it hasn’t become a real thing as of yet.

he has a bright yellow ‘68 volkswagen beetle that is his baby.

baking is a stress reliever for him so friends be prepared for gifts of cookies, pies and banana bread.

he’s super social!! he’ll talk to anyone and he’ll talk your ear off. honestly, don’t be afraid to tell him to shut up because you’ll be lucky if you can get a word in edgewise.

danny loves to dance- he doesn’t care if you’re a guy or a gal, he’ll still spin you across the floor and have one helluva time doing it.

even though danny is very effeminate in his day to day, he’s still a country boy. he loves fishing, shooting ( not a big hunter, just never really enjoyed killing animals for sport ) and camping- though, let’s be real, no one prefers sleeping in a tent over a camper. he doesn’t like to get dirty and messy but he absolutely can and will have a blast doing so.

church had always been a big part of danny’s life growing up and even after coming out, he still went every time the doors were open with his family. his attendance dropped off during college but since coming home, he’s back in the pew every sunday.

A COUPLE POSSIBLE CONNECTIONS ( FOR THOSE OF YOU BRAVE ENOUGH TO GET THIS FAR)

HIGH SCHOOL CONNECTIONS;; small town means that everyone and their mom knows you. was your character a few years older or younger or graduated the same time? maybe they were friends, enemies, rivals, acquaintances, teammates, or math class buddies? maybe they went to school with one of danny’s siblings or were even a friend who dealt with annoying lil brother danny being in everything? i’m up for anything you can come up with on this!

SCHOOL PARENTS;; maybe your character has a kid or younger sibling in danny’s class!

NEIGHBORS;; danny lives in a lil apartment complex in town so!! anyone who also happens to be living in an apartment hmu and say howdy neighbor!

FELLOW TEACHERS;; listen danny needs friends to go out for drinks at the catfish on fridays after school. happy hour margaritas anyone?

HONESTLY ANYTHING ELSE YALL CAN COME UP WITH I’M HERE FOR IT!

#bmontintro #( × intro. × ) — it’s all a part of me & that’s who i am.#gaslighting tw #this only took 3 thousand years RIP

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tackyink · 7 years

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I shouldn’t be writing. I have a pair of pants to sew and a hat to accessorize, but these fricking cosplays haven’t let me write for weeks, and I needed to. I’ve gone from the aftermath of the terror attack, to protests on the streets, to the uncertainty of this political unstability, and right when I was settling down the only convention I go to every year is coming up. I just want to write in peace!

This was written a few months ago, but I’ve added things, changed a few others and edited a bit, badly, because my eyes hurt and I’m medicated and falling asleep.

Fourth installment of the terrible YYH self-insert.

There I go again Pretending to be you Make-believing That I have a soul beneath the surface

When my father asked what I wanted for Christmas, I knew right away what to reply. It might sound weird putting it like this, but if it was 1984, there was something I was in time to do for the first and last time.

I had known from the moment I saw it announced in a music magazine, just a week ago. The Yu Yu Hakusho world may have differed from my own, but some things remained the same, and one of them was the existence of my favorite band.

Queen was going to play its last concerts in Japan in 1985, and I had to go see them. I could not miss my last opportunity to see Freddie Mercury and John Deacon live, no matter how out of character it may have been for Satori.

But the request didn’t surprise my father. In fact, he said he had thought I’d ask for something like that.

That day I learned that the vinyl records and the CDs next to the music player in the living room were Satori’s, not her parents’. I had found out the one thing she and I seemed to have in common: a love of classic rock.

If you had asked me at that moment in time if travelling through dimensions thirty-three years in time and getting stuck in the body of a teenager in order to see Queen in their prime had been worth it, I would have said yes, logic be damned.

But before that could happen, a lot more had to be done.

For months, I had been stuck studying at home with tutors helping in my recovery, so for all effects and purposes, my job from September to April was to cram in my brain all the knowledge I had supposedly lost, and while subjects like math and science only warranted a quick refresher (and it was a good thing that Satori wasn’t in high school yet, because I hadn’t done any real math in close to twelve years), Japanese and history were another matter altogether. Luckily for me, I suppose, both were things I’d been interested in in my previous life and I couldn’t have found a more immersive way to learn the language if I tried, so catching up didn’t feel as frustrating as it would have otherwise, and I had always been good at studying.

The biggest hurdle came from elsewhere.

While I had determined that I wouldn’t go back to the tennis club once I returned to school, nothing could save me from the small piano at home.

Don’t get me wrong. At first, I thought it was amazing to have one. Learning how to play one had been a lifelong wish back when I wasn’t Satori. Then I had been asked if I remembered how to play it, and my deer in the headlights face had said it all.

About two months after the accident, my piano teacher came home, and though the news that I’d forgotten everything had been broken to her, I don’t think anybody realized the extent of the drama until I said I couldn’t read a score. If I had wished a thousand times in my previous life that my parents had signed me up for music lessons as a kid, I wished it even harder now. The extent of my musical ability was singing decently and having learned to play Greensleeves by ear on a toy keyboard. That was it. I had to start from scratch at thirteen-slash-twenty-eight years old.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t as disastrous as I had expected. As if Satori’s own body had grown frustrated with my uselessness, the hands seemed to move over the keys more easily than they should have. I realized it was muscle memory, moving my fingers to the keys without knowing what they were and pushing the pedals at the appropriate time.

But it sounded horrible, anyway. Muscle memory could only take me so far, and it didn’t matter much when it came to learning more pieces, but it was a small consolation that my new body was cooperating. My lack of coordination in my past life had been nothing short of sad, and this was a welcome change.

It wasn’t the first time I had thought so. Satori’s body was, nearsightedness notwithstanding, an upgrade from mine. She was more agile and in better shape than my paper-pusher butt used to be, but the most remarkable change was her brain. I don’t know what the physiological differences between hers and mine were, because I still felt very much like myself, but thinking with her brain was like coming into a sunlit clearing after wading through fog for years. Her attention span, her quick thinking, the way she absorbed information like a sponge was something I hadn’t felt for well over ten years. I didn’t get startled as easily, I wasn’t in an alert state 24/7, I didn’t feel anxiety creeping up on me at every little setback. My new brain was working with me instead of being bent on self-sabotage.

Thanks to that, I was able to make good progress with my studies before I went reenrolled at school. I still sucked at piano, but time and practice would take care of that, I hoped.

I remember the day at the end of February, nearly half a year after my accident, that my parents sat me down and told me with as much tact as they could that the school had decided to hold me back a year. This was a rare occurrence in Japan, from what I’d gathered, usually reserved for students who had missed too many school days.

My parents thought that Satori would think this was the end of the world. Fortunately, I wasn’t her, and since I didn’t know anybody at school save for one girl that had come visit me once while I was home, I didn’t care in which class I was put. If anything, I was worried about going back to school, in general.

All in all, I thought my parents took the grade repetition harder than me. There was probably some social stigma I wasn’t aware of associated to it.

I asked Yu about it when they weren’t around, but he shrugged off my concerns, instead asking me, “Do you mind being held back a year?”

“No.”

“Then however they think it reflects on you is their problem, not yours.”

This kid had just turned eleven and already had more aplomb than most adults I knew.

This kid also would, in five years’ time, if my assumptions were correct, have the guts to purposefully piss off Kurama in a room full of plants. I tried not to think about that.

“So you don’t care, either? Won’t the other kids laugh at you because your sister is dumb?” I joked, though in truth I was a little worried about it.

He looked at me like I had just demonstrated how dumb I really was. Kid could stare down a giant if he wanted. “I don’t care about their opinion. But I do care that you’re repeating a year.”

“Oh?”

“Next year we’ll go to school together.”

He was on his last year of elementary school. Normally, the gap of three years between us would have meant we’d always go to separate schools, but now we would be in the same place in middle and high school while I was a third-year and he a freshman. I would have an ally at school, however briefly! But then, the implications of that dawned on me right away.

If I was going to be at the same school as Yu, it meant that I was going to share a school with Kurama, as well.

I tried to smile sincerely at Yu’s comment, because it had been cute as heck, but the sudden realization had killed my enthusiasm swiftly.

“Yeah,” I said, hoping that he didn’t notice my mood change. “That will be cool.”

For five months, I’d managed to keep myself from thinking about it. For five blissful months of denial, I had concentrated on family life, on studies, and thought as little as I could about what the future held.

Because I had a good inkling of what my brother would get involved in in a few years, and I wasn’t sure I would be able to stay out of it myself. I didn’t think I wanted to, even, but then again, it’s easy to be brave when you’re looking at problems from a distance. I couldn’t tell how I’d react when the time came.

I had gone through many possibilities in the time I’d spent at home since I realized in which reality I was, but one that hadn’t crossed my mind until Yu pointed it out was that we were going to share a school, and that, in time, that would probably translate into going to Meiou with him. The perspective made me both excited and nervous.

Saying that Kurama was my favorite Yu Yu Hakusho character would have been the understatement of the two centuries I’d lived in. Saying that I’d been crushing on him since I was a teen would have only taken second place to the former assertion.

And I still hadn’t come to terms with him being a real person that I had a more than fair chance of meeting him in this reality.

And, because I had to be a worrywart, instead of being happy about it, I grew increasingly anxious about it as time passed. I didn’t want to be within ten miles of the guy lest I risk blubbering something silly and giving myself away.

But that would happen in time, I thought.

Maybe inspired by this turn of events, and since I’ve always had a bit of a masochistic streak, along with a liking of cacti and all manner of spiky flora, and four prickly children of my own at the time of my accident, when the school year started, I dropped tennis to go for gardening.

This caused some confusion among the staff and Satori’s teammates. Apparently nobody switched clubs once enrolled in one, but people were willing to overlook it because of my rather odd circumstances. There were still a lot of whispers behind my back – way to start off at school on the right foot.

Yu thought it was funny and more constructive that I had chosen to spend the next two years learning how not to kill a potted plant than hitting a ball, because it turns out that Satori had a notoriously black thumb.

I did, too. I once managed to kill a succulent in one month. And I’d felt horribly guilty even as I repeated to myself that it had been ill by the time I’d received it.

…Anyway.

I joined the gardening club because my other options were a sports team, which would mean I’d have no excuse to not go back to tennis, brass band, with was a definite no because I had enough embarrassing myself home with a piano in private, and calligraphy, which looked really cool but, call me weird if you may, I thought that before trying to draw kanji skillfully I should learn to read them.

So gardening it was. And being a non-sports, non-musical club, it only met three days a week, so it left me plenty of time to study.

Because that’s how I spent my first two years in the Yu Yu Hakusho world: learning nonstop all the things I should already know, and learning what I should have been learning at the time so I could enroll to a good high school.

Something I noticed as the months went by is that my parents seemed to be fascinated by the change in disposition in her daughter. I never got the impression from them or Satori’s own diaries that she had been a bad student, but I suppose she hadn’t shown so much drive to absorb knowledge as I did. Though, of course, I was doing it out of necessity, not just for the sake of knowing.

They were proud. And the prouder they were of their daughter, the guiltier I felt for not being her.

Yu didn’t have many friends at school.

I’d had the impression that smart kids were treated better here than they were back in my country, and that was true, with conditions: Yu was admired for his brains, but was worse, much worse with social niceties than I’d been at my prime.

For the record, I had been an absolute and complete disaster at getting along with most kids in my class, and that was taking into account that I saw them every school day for ten whooping years.

On the other hand, Satori’s classmates had moved onto high school, and the only friendships I retained were those of the people in the tennis club, who I didn’t know, and, frankly, did not care to. I more than doubled their age, and it was evident that they felt awkward talking to someone who didn’t remember who they were.

That gave me the perfect excuse to spend most of my free time with Yu, who made everything better with that thinly-veiled disdain for humanity of his and made him look like a pompous prick in the eyes of his peers. I, in turn, found it incredibly funny coming from someone his age.

Despite that, I told him to cut the back on the attitude because I was supposed to give him good advice, but he wouldn’t budge. He was at a difficult age, in an isolating position, and he had time to change.

I would lie if I said I didn’t worry about what he would do when I graduated, but while it lasted, we took comfort in each other’s company, a much needed familiarity for two introverts who’d been dropped in a foreign place.

During my first semester at school, I went with my father to see Queen at Yoyogi National Stadium.

I cried like the little girl I was supposed to be, and the next day I had no voice from singing along at the top of my lungs. I also had a lot of tears to spare when thinking about the band’s future, and it was hard to keep them at bay while I wasn’t alone.

On the way out, we bought tour shirts and a badge with the group’s logo that I proudly hung from my schoolbag.

Nobody took more than passing notice of it in class, except for a boy in my grade that I found staring really hard at the badge one afternoon, while I spoke to a club companion. He seemed to freeze for a second when he noticed that I’d caught him staring, but then he came closer. My clubmate observed the exchange quietly.

“Do you like Queen?” He asked.

He was a bit shorter than me, with stark black hair and piercing violet eyes, and he had spoken so seriously that I wondered if he would try to maim me if the answer wasn’t satisfactory.

“Of course I do,” I replied. “I wouldn’t carry this otherwise.”

His stony expression didn’t change, but his eyes sparkled. “I like them too. Who’s your favorite?”

“Um, I like them all, but Brian and Freddie—”

His expression lit up, but even then he didn’t smile. He sounded excited when he spoke next. “Did you know Brian May made his guitar himself?”

A smile escaped me before I could notice it. “Yeah! With an old fireplace and mother-of-pearl buttons—”

“I heard he spent years on it!”

“Can you imagine building your own guitar so young and so well that you can go pro with it?”

“He’s a genius.”

“Dang right he—”

Someone cleared their throat behind me. “Um, Kaito…”

My clubmate looked very much out of place when I looked at her.

“O-oh,” I said embarrassedly. “Yes, we should get going.” I turned to the boy. “Sorry, I should go. I didn’t catch your name…?”

“Kaname Hagiri.”

This world was rife with school kids trying to surprise kill me, I swear. I stared owlishly at him for a second before I remembered my manners. “Nice to meet you. I’m—”

“Everybody at school knows who you are. You’re the girl who lost her memory.”

I didn’t like the tone he used. “I have a name.”

I was surprised at how much it bothered me. Reducing Satori’s existence to her accident felt… wrong. And in turn I felt like a hypocrite, because what was Satori to me but another body? Yu’s sister? The girl who played tennis and piano and that had had a lot of friends that I’d managed to alienate in just a few weeks of school?

Satori’s existence, even to me, wasn’t an entity in itself. I always thought about her in relation to something, someone else. It wasn’t fair.

Hagiri was taken aback by my brusque reply, but he turned around and left anyway without saying anything else.

I thought that had been the end of it, and I was wrong.

He caught me by surprise one day after lunch, just as I’d left Yu to go back to class.

“Kaito,” he called solemnly, and his face wore the same immutable and slightly threatening expression from last time. His words didn’t match. “Do you listen to Deep Purple?”

As a matter of fact, I did.

I wondered if that was his way of apologizing for his rudeness, though I had been rude right back, so he had no reason to do it.

But what mattered was that, from then on, we stopped to talk to each other on the corridor, and that occasionally I’d have company when I wanted to pick up something from the music store.

This only lasted until the end of the school year, when we went on our separate ways to different schools. I wondered if I’d meet him again. I wondered if it would happen during the Sensui saga, and I wondered if I should, could have done something to prevent him from getting recruited. That nagging feeling wouldn’t leave me for months after I graduated, but only time would tell.

It was precisely during this year that the training wheels came off. The high school access exams were closing in, and my parents, who years ago had hoped to send Satori to one where she could focus better on developing her tennis skills, had to let go of the idea and find another place for me. I needed to compensate my lack of physical skills with raw brainpower, and given how tough school in this country was, I wasn’t sure I’d be up to par.

That insecurity kept on building up as the months passed, and by the time March was approaching I was a bundle of nerves. I took the Step Eiken, the exams to get an English certification, and took tests for public and private schools. My parents weren’t sure I’d be able to get into Meiou, since that school could afford to be picky with its students and my middle school hadn’t given me a recommendation thanks to me spending the last year and a half just trying to catch up. But if there’s something that drives me to do things is people telling me I can’t pull them off, so I studied like I’d never studied in my life. Harder than when I first woke up and had to learn all the grammar and vocabulary I didn’t know just to communicate with my family.

Having an obsessive personality has its perks, every now and then.

Yu supported me in this endeavor, even if he didn’t outright say it. On occasion, he made flashcards and diagrams with the excuse that they were meant for him, but I could use them too if I wanted. I knew him enough by then to realize that he knew the material better than the teachers. I think he was actually proud that his sister had turned bookish, that we had something else to bond over, and wanted to help.

In two months’ time, the exam results came, and with them the resolution of this weird phase of my life. First arrived the letters for public high schools, then for private ones.

I opened that last one with my parents breathing down my neck.

A year ago, I wouldn’t have been able to read its contents.

But now, clear as day, I was able to see that I’d made it into Meiou.

I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding it as my mother announced that we were going out for sushi that night, and my father clapped me on the shoulder with a satisfied smile and told me to think if I wanted anything as a present.

I considered the admission a present in and of itself, but that didn’t stop me from asking if I could have a Discman.

#yyh crappy indulgent si

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theworldofmycreations · 5 years

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I’ve gained inspiration for these four characters after listening to Horrid Henry Audiobooks online, lol

Anyway, I’ll go from oldest to youngest for these four guys.

*The first one with the pink beanie on is Luna, she’s the oldest of the bunch and she’s 9 years old. Her casual wear consists of a gray hoodie with a white tank top underneath, turquoise shorts, long white socks, brown boot-like shoes, and a pink beanie on her head. Luna is the bully of her family and would go in a complete rage if she doesn’t get her way. She’s always mean and rude to her parents and siblings and she’s a Straight F student in school (with some D’s here and there). She doesn’t like wearing bright colors and loves to eat Doritos. She also loves every single DC movie made out there but her favorite is Suicide Squad and she can play a mean electric guitar. She also loves listening to heavy metal music, grafiti art, cursing and swearing, video games with Call of Duty being her favorite, beanies, skateboarding, the color Gray, and the holiday of Halloween. She hates Healthy Junk, school, her sister, her family, homework, her teachers, and colorful clothes.

Luna’s DOB: 06/01/2010

*Bonnie on the other hand is the complete opposite. She’s 8 years old and the middle child of the bunch. Her casual wear consists of a dark pink t-shirt with light pink lining on the sleeves, a yellow skirt with an orange button in the middle, long white socks, lavender and dark purple shoes, and purple-pink colored glasses. Aside from her older sister Luna, Bonnie is your typical good girl. She gets straight A’s, always kind and polite, and always followed the rules and respected her elders. Bonnie enjoys playing the cello, gymnastics, projects that involve knitting, sewing, and crochet, classical music, school, the Cheesecake Factory restaurant, Disney, and the holiday of Easter. Her favorite show is Matilda the Musical, her favorite color is turquoise, her favorite food is Potatoes La Grotton, and her favorite movies are 101 Dalmatians and Captain Marvel. Bonnie is also a huge theater nut and is a year apart from Luna. Her dislikes are getting bad grades, getting in trouble, breaking a rules, and her older sister Luna’s antics.

Bonnie’s DOB: 04/10/2011

*Finally, we have Luna and Bonnie’s identical twin brothers, Andrew and Aiden. Both boys are 5 years old and love dinosaurs, and Mario. Both of their favorite foods are Pears, both of their favorite colors are yellow, and both enjoy playing sports outside and playing their ukulele’s. But both of the boy’s personalities are very different.

-Andrew’s casual wear is a red semi-long sleeved shirt with a yellow star in the middle, blue shorts, grey socks, and red shoes. Andrew’s the energetic one, he’s always getting up and doing something or running amuck and loves to sing and dance.

-Aiden’s casual wear is a blue semi-long sleeved shirt with a yellow star in the middle, red shorts, grey socks, and blue shoes. Aiden is the peacemaker and the quiet one of the two. He enjoys independent play and watches cartoons on a daily bases.

Andrew and Aiden’s DOB: 09/14/2014

#sisters #twinbrothers #ocs

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rosierora · 7 years

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The Sorting Hat || WDPA Challenge 001

Personal Questions

What is your real, birth name? When and where were you born? Aurora Katherine Rose. I was born in Los Angeles on May 18th, 1998.

What is your Myers-Briggs Personality Type? (If you don’t know go here, this question is optional.) INFP

Do you have a nickname? What is it, and where did you get it? Most commonly I’m called Rory or Rora. My mom calls me Beastie, and Caleb has started calling me Princess. My aunts call me Briar or Briar Rose. I like Rory or Rory-Kate the best.

What do you look like? (Include height, weight, hair, eyes, skin, apparent age, and distinguishing features) I’m 5′6″ an about 118 pounds. I have blonde hair and blue eyes. I look about 20, but I turn 19 in a couple weeks.

How do you dress most of the time? Do you wear any jewelry? I usually like soft tee shirts and skinny jeans. I have a few really nice dresses for going out, but a lot of my clothes are comfortable enough for me to rehearse in. I wear thin silver bracelet that my aunts gave me the day I started at WDPA.

What don’t you like about yourself? What kind of things embarrass you? Why? I’m actually pretty self conscious about my appearance. I could tell you a lot of things about myself I wish I could change. Sometimes my aunts can be a little embarrassing when they come to visit.

In your opinion, what is your best feature? I think my legs are pretty cool. They’re very toned, thanks to dance and cheer.

Where do you live? Describe it: Is it messy, neat, avant-garde, sparse, etc.? I live with my mom in Santa Monica. Our house is beautiful, with indoor gardens and open spaces. My room is my favorite part of the house. It’s large compared to my old dorm, and I don’t share it with anyone, except my cat. I keep it extremely clean. Messy rooms freak me out. It’s mostly pastel blue and stark white, with the occasional gold and rose pink accents.

What is your most prized mundane possession? Why do you value it so much? My pointe shoes, because they represent the hard work I’ve put into my passion.

What one word best describes you? Graceful.

Familial Questions

What is/was your family structure like? (i.e. are you adopted, how many siblings, pets, etc.) I was born to Stefan and Leah Rose. From age 6-12 I bounced back and fourth between living with my father and with my “aunts”, Flora, Fauna, and Merryweather. They were actually my neighbors and family friends, we’re not technically related. I moved in with my aunts permanently when my dad died at age 13. They sent me to WDPA when I was 14, in the middle of my freshman year, which is when I met my adoptive mother, Mal. I live with her now.

Who was your father, and what was he like? Who was your mother, and what was she like? What was your parents marriage like? Were they married? Did they remain married? Stefan was... indecisive. He was a surgeon in LA until we relocated to Denver after my mother died. He could be warm and he could be cold. He often forgot me in stores and at school, and he used to throw things at me, like books and hair dyers. I think Leah’s death started to get to him as I got older. He became more dependent on narcotics and less concerned with me. They loved each other, but I know he could be untrue, and I’m sure he cheated on her more than once. The government found out he had been doing unnecessary surgeries to get rich, so he went to prison for a bit when I was six and again when I was 11 for over prescribing pain meds. After he was let out on good behavior, he OD’ed on oxycodone. My mother was a model. She was killed in a car accident.

What are/were your siblings names? What are/were they like? (If you have siblings) I don’t have any siblings.

What’s the worst thing one of your siblings ever did to you? What’s the worst thing you’ve done to one of your siblings? (If you have siblings)

When’s the last time you saw any member of your family? Where are they now? I saw my aunts over the summer, I stayed with them in Denver for a few weeks while Mal went to a conference out of the country.

Who is your closest friend(s)? Describe them and how you relate to them. Merida is my best friend. We met when we were roomates our freshmen year and have been inseperable ever since. I love how even though our interests and hobbies are different, we still get along like two peas in a pod. She keeps me grounded, and I help her see the bright side in tough situations.

Childhood Questions

What is your first memory? My dad taking me to a baseball game when I was super small. I have a picture of me and him together that I keep in my room.

What was your favorite toy? A little doll that I named Rosie.

What was your favorite game? My dad and I had quite a few tea parties. He was pretty good at playing along until he got a call from work.

Who was your best friend when you were growing up? I had a friend named Ellie in Denver who was in ballet with me, but when I moved way we lost touch. I think she lives in Kansas now.

What is your fondest childhood memory? The day I moved in with my aunts. It was my 6th birthday. Although they aren’t really homemakers, they attempted to sew me a dress and make me a cake. It was really sweet of them.

What is your worst childhood memory? I was with my dad when he died. He told me not to call 911. It was painful to watch without being able to do anything about it.

Adolescent Questions

It is common for one’s view of authority to develop in their adolescent years. What is your view of authority, and what event most affected it? I’ve never had a problem with authority. Ballet teaches you to have a lot of respect for your teachers, so I guess I kind of got used to doing that. Having a dragon lady for a mom can sometimes scare you into behaving, too.

What “clique” did/do you best fit in with? (Royals, Dark Royals, Wallflowers, Bookworms, Punks, Hipsters, Rejects, etc.) I would consider myself a Royal.

What were/are your high school goals? What were/are your uni goals? In high school my goal was to star in Swan Lake, which I did as a senior. Now that I’ve graduated, my main goal is to find a main goal. I’m not really sure what I want to do for the rest of my life.

What is/was your favorite memory from adolescence? What is/was your worst memory from adolescence? The day I met Mal was a good one. She tried not to like me at first, but I won her over. She invited me to her house for dinner that night, and well, the rest is history. I’d say my worst memory would be snapping my ankle junior year as I came out of a stunt in cheer. I was in a cast for months.

Do you own a car? Describe it. If not, describe your dream car. I drive a blue 2014 Honda Civic.

Occupational Questions

Do you have a job? What is it? Do you like it? If no job, where does your money come from? I teach ballet and lyrical classes at a studio in LA. My dad also left all of his money to me in his will, so I get a check from that every month.

What is your boss or employer like? (Or publisher, or agent, or whatever.) My boss is a stubborn old Russian lady with a quick temper. She scares me.

What are your co-workers like? Do you get along with them? Any in particular? Which ones don’t you get along with? I dance with a lot of my coworkers in the city ballet. They’re performers, so they can be temperamental, but I love them anyways.

What is something you had to learn that you hated? The day I saw what pointe shoes do to your toes I thought about quitting ballet.

Do you tend to save or spend your money? Why? I save it for the most part. My mom pays for my food and stuff, so I don’t worry about money too often.

Likes & Dislikes Questions

What hobbies do you have? I am an excellent ballerina and I cheer for WDPA. Other than that, I’m in student government and on the welcome committee. Dance takes up a lot of my life. When I’m not rehearsing, I’m watching performances or helping out with makeup and hair backstage.

What bands/artists do you like? What song is “your song?” Why? I like a lot of easy listening stuff, like Ben Howard, John Mayer... just soft guitar music. That, and classical compositions.

When it comes to politics, do you care? If so, which way do you tend to vote? If not, why don’t you care? I'm a registered democrat. I also have a passion for animal rights.

What time of day is your favorite? What kind of weather is your favorite? I like mid afternoon, because that’s when I have dance. My favorite weather is sunny and warm, but not hot.

What is your favorite food? What is your least favorite food? I love fruit salad. I’m a vegan, so I don’t like meat, or anything made from animals.

What is your favorite drink? (Coffee, Coke, Juice, Beer, Wine, etc.) Hmm... probably smoothies.

What’s your favorite animal? Why? My favorite animals are birds. They’re so pretty and sing beautifully. I like owls the best.

Do you have any pets? Do you want any pets? What kind? I have a pet cat named Dreamsicle, but we call her Dreamy for short.

What do you find most relaxing? (Not as in stress relief, but as something that actually calms you down.) You know in Footloose when Ren is really mad and he goes to that warehouse and angrily dances? That.

What’s a pet peeve of yours? People who aren’t willing to try new things.

Sex & Intimacy Questions

Would you consider yourself straight, gay, bi, pan, or something else? Why? I guess straight. I’ve never had romantic feelings for women.

Who was the first person you had sex with? When did it happen? What was it like? How well did it go? (If your character is sexually active, if not, skip this question) I’ve never had sex.

Do you currently have a lover/crush? What is their name, and what is your relationship like? What are they like? Why are you attracted to them? I think I have a crush on Caleb Stirling, but my mom would kill me if she found out. He’s actually really sweet and smart. He’s not as much of a bad boy as I expected him to be. At least, I don’t think he is. I’m attracted to him physically, obviously. Have you seen that boy’s hair? Besides that, though, Caleb is really interesting. We have a little bit in common, too. I feel like I want to know everything about him.

Describe the perfect romantic partner for you and describe your perfect date with them. I just want someone to love me. I hope they’d be open to dancing with me. I’d want to go out to a fancy dinner, like at a jazz club or somewhere else where we could dance. Then after we could go look at the stars and have ice cream.

Do you ever want to get married and have children? When do you see this happening? I would love to! I don’t see it happening in the next few years, as I’m still pretty young. Maybe when I’m in my late twenties.

What is more important – sex or intimacy? Why? I really wouldn’t know. I assume it’s intimacy.

What was your most recent relationship like? Who was it with? (Does not need to be sexual, merely romantic.) I dated my dad’s friend’s son Phillip for a little bit sophomore and junior year. He drank too much. We realized we were just too different and broke up the night after junior prom.

What’s the worst thing you’ve done to someone you loved? I let my father die.

Drug & Alcohol Questions (if your character’s a drinker/does drugs, if not, skip to numbers 5 & 6)

How old were you when you first got drunk? What was the experience like? On my 16th birthday I got a little crazy, that was he first time. It was fine until Mal found out the next day.

Did anything good come out of it? Did anything bad come out of it? I found out what drinking is like and what my limits are, but I was grounded for two weeks because I puked in the living room.

Do you drink on any kind of regular basis? No, not really. I will when I go out, but not much.

What kind of alcohol do you prefer? Margaritas.

Have you ever tried any other kind of “mood altering” substance? Which one(s)? What did you think of each?

What do you think of drugs and alcohol? Are there any people should not do? Why or why not? I’m alright with recreational use as long as it doesn’t get in the way of someone’s goals in life. I’m not into the hard stuff, and I don’t think anyone else should be, either. It’s bad for your body. I should know.

Post-Powers Awareness Questions (For those who have powers)

When did you go through when you gained your powers? What was it like (in your opinion)?

What do you think now of being magical? Is it cool, or have you been screwed?

Do you have a mentor? Who are they? How did you become their student?

Do you have any magical items? Where did you get them?

Think of a major event that happened during your training/initiation. What was it?

What is something you had to learn during your training that you hated? Why did you hate it?

Thoughtful Questions

What about you is heroic? My drive to work for what I love makes me heroic.

What about you is social? What do you like about people? I’m generally social, but I have problems with talking to strangers. I love that everyone has something to offer, their own story. It’s like every person is a mystery just waiting to be solved.

If a magical being, describe the color of what magic you use, is it of a light color, bold and bright, pastel and sparkly, etc.

Are you a better leader or follower? Why do you think that? If you think the whole leader-follower archetype is a crock of shit, say so, and explain why? I’m somewhere inbetween. I think I’m a soft example? Does that even make sense?

#lots of triggers in this one guys #tw abuse #tw neglect #tw death #tw overdose #hc #wdpa challenge #wdpa challenge 1

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cacaopapow · 7 years

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One of the great aspects of blogging is that it can give you the opportunity to meet some fabulous folk. Having already met Vivien of Vivien of Holloway at few events, I asked if I could interview her for the blog and thankfully, she agreed!

Background

I started buying dresses from VOH way back in 2009, while I was still at uni. Since then, I found Flo was a fellow fan (and quite a few other friends too). My sister and our best woman wore VOH to our wedding in 2013 and my mum has a few pieces as well.

In the words of VOH,

A life-long Fifties lifestyle and fashion enthusiast, Vivien began sewing vintage-style clothes for herself at a mere ten years old. At eighteen, she opened her first shop in the world famous but now sadly gone Kensington Market, selling her hand-made 1950s reproductions to fellow followers of 1950s fashions. Many satisfied customers later, we can fast forward… oh, a couple of years to 2000, when the Vivien of Holloway brand was born, and Vivien’s signature Fifties style soon took the world by storm.

The Interview

Vivien centre and fellow VOH fan Kelly

I and so many others have shopped at VOH for years. Why do you think you have such brand loyal customers?

VOH: I think because it’s from my heart and I make clothes that I actually want to wear. I’m not copying anyone – I think people appreciate that.

Vintage reproduction has really taken off over the past few years, what makes VOH stand out from the rest?

VOH: We were the first. Our clothes come from a love of vintage – we’ve not jumped on a bandwagon, which has done us well.

Diversity and representation is incredibly important to me. How does VOH create such broad appeal?

VOH: We don’t design fancy dress; our clothing is authentic and accessible for all. Our cuts are classic and the fabrics speak to a wide range of ages.

Where do you think VOH will go in the future?

VOH: I honestly don’t know. It’s already gone much further than I could have imagined.

There are many people who feel that they aren’t ‘good enough’ or that they can’t wear certain pieces of clothing. I was one of those people. What does VOH clothing do to help people break out of their comfort zone?

VOH: All women inside them have a little girl that wants to be glamorous. We’ve all watched old Hollywood movies. Sometimes people aren’t sure but they choose to come to the shop. All of our styles have been in fashion at some point in history. I make garments that are well-fitting and sexy without being overstated.

The Customers

Although I’ve shared my love of VOH in previous posts, I though it would be helpful to share other customers reasons for why they choose to wear VOH. There were so many responses – here is a small selection:

Margaret C. – I buy VOH because of best quality and best design. They are very flattering and make you look very glamorous. Awesome for jivin’ and dancing and great to wear for any occasion.

Laura W. – The fit is fabulously flattering, the cloth & tailoring is of a quality for a queen and there’s no better way to transform into a vintage vixen than to adorn yourself in a Vivien of Holloway.

Brooke M. – For me, the dresses just make you feel like a woman. My weight yo-yos but whether I fit in a VOH 20 or 24, I have that confidence knowing I look the best I can. The dresses flatter all sizes and are ageless – why shop anywhere else?

Elizabeth W. – I only found my waistline as a direct result of wearing VOH – my silhouette is invisible in modern tailoring.

Charlotte S. – Of all the vintage brands, I find VOH fits better and is more flattering than any other. The clothes are beautifully made and, unlike other brands, I don’t have to worry about seams or zips going after only one or two wears. If I have a really special occasion coming up, I tend to treat myself to a new Viv because I know that I will look my best in it.

Marion N. – I wear VOH because I just love all the designs and the quality. I know that every purchase will fit me. I struggle with self esteem and body esteem, and every time I wear my VOH pieces I feel better, I feel incredible and I feel beautiful. And I think that in the retro market, VOH is one of the most authentic in design.

Rachel H. – I wear VOH because the fit is amazing! When I wear one of my dresses I feel like I’m being transported back to that era of classic beauty and it makes me feel gorgeous!

Lottie B. I wear my Vivs to school where I’m a singing teacher. The girls in particular love them and I always get compliments! I also put all my bridesmaids in them – we had a huge range of shapes, sizes and colourings and it was great being able to put them in different styles to suit them. The shop is also amazing, the girls are lovely and customer service excellent.

Thoughts

I think the customers have said it all really! This post wasn’t sponsored – I just wrote it because I finally plucked up the courage to ask Viv for an interview and I’m also a real fan of the brand.

If you’d like to try out VOH, you should know that there is a huge 50% off sale in store from 13th – 17th April!

Meet The Maker #1: Vivien Of Holloway One of the great aspects of blogging is that it can give you the opportunity to meet some fabulous folk.

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kepesh-yakshi · 8 years

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My life story.

My earliest memory was around the age of three, when I was staying at my father's mom's house for the weekend. Gran got home from work, and I was so excited that I bolted from the couch to give her a huge hug. On the way to her wide-open arms, I tripped over something on the floor (probably my shoe lace) and bit a hole in my lip that required a dozen stitches in several layers. There's an image of a memory before that, too. I think it was my first birthday, because I remember feeling the annoying rubber strap around my chin when I recall the image. Anyway, I was sitting in the floor of my mom's mom's house (I call her "Gran," too), and there was a plastic red and blue ball with a yellow handle, and some plastic yellow shapes all over the floor. Of course, I didn't know that was "plastic," back then, but I recall the memory enough to know it was plastic. I think they still sell those things at toy stores. Probably at Wal-Mart, too.

I only have a scar from something I don't remember that almost changed my life. I nearly cut my left thumb off while playing outside around sheet metal (where Mom told me not to play, of course -- that suddenly became the place to play). They sewed it back on after resetting everything, and the doctor told my mom I'd never be able to use that thumb, again. Glad to prove them wrong, as I am left-handed. Incidentally, when I was five, I closed the car door on the same thumb. It didn't hurt until Mom opened the car door. We found out I was a pitch-perfect soprano at that point.

By the way, did I mention that I am accident-prone?

Church-wise, I split my time between the Church of Christ on the mom's side and the Baptists of my dad's side. My mom's side didn't attend church regularly (if I remember correctly, they weren't active in any church), and my dad's side was loaded with clergy and elders and Sunday school teachers...and Uncle Erwin, who drove the Jolly Green Giant Sunday School bus for First Baptist Church of Abilene. (on a side note, my dad's side is also loaded with military veterans. So far as I know, nobody in my family is presently active duty). I went to church because it was fun, and not yet because I understood what it was about.

My life before second grade wasn't special, aside from all my early-stage clumsiness and multiple trips to the doctor for repairs. But in the second grade, everything changed, both for the better and for the worse. I remember coming home to Gran(ny Hall's) house, and when I got off the bus, I looked up at the sky and said "God, are you real?" Or something like that. But I remember asking Him something like that. Because all these kids and people and old people were always so happy to be at church and sing to this God guy, and I didn't get it. Who's God? Or, in my seven-year-old mentality: why the heck are all these people singing to some guy I've never seen at church? Doesn't he need to be there, too? Maybe he needs the bus to come get him.

I got my answer in an unconventional way. Shortly after my mom remarried a now-awesome guy (you'll understand what I mean by that, soon enough), I started attending a non-denominational charismatic church with his parents (who, by the way, I have a lot of love and respect for, as they taught me the power of embracing the way you perceive Jesus Christ as opposed to following the masses to the biggest church in town just because everybody else goes there -- I go to one of the biggest churches in town, so I'm not judging big churches). Something else I noted at this church was the fact that people who claimed to be speaking in tongues during prayer were, in fact, speaking French. I knew this because I watched Pinwheel's Playhouse specifically to see the segment that had Chapi Chapo in it. (that was slightly sarcastic, but they were speaking French).

On one Sunday, a prophetess by the name of Nita Johnson came to give a "word of knowledge" from God to anyone who wished to receive it from her. Not being bashful, I stood up almost immediately, and she started crying as soon as she touched my forehead. This woman was getting upset. Like breaking down in tears as if whatever she was hearing from -- again -- this guy named God who I'd never seen, before -- was telling her something that I suddenly wasn't sure I wanted to hear.

In a nutshell (I have the printed copy of what she said, somewhere, and when I find it, I will share it on here in the form of a separate post), she told me that I was about to endure tremendous pain at the hands of many, and I would not understand why they would do these things to me, and that I'd even taste death. But somehow, I would learn to use what I went through to spread the Word of God. That I'd come back to recall what she was telling me that night, and be blown away by what she said (this happened about 10 years ago), and that I would still not be shaken enough. That I would have to witness His overwhelming spirit one more time before it finally hit me hard enough to seriously desire to seek Him. He would hit me so hard that I'd be unable to speak. This actually happened in mid-December of 2012, again, in the most unconventional of ways.

Life is good, right? Well, not after this Word of Knowledge. See, Nita, if you look her up on Google, has a lot of apologetics calling her out as a false prophet. I am only going on what has happened to me, but so far, she is pinpoint accurate. A week after this "session" with Nita at the now-disbanded Church on the Rock was the first time I experienced sexual abuse. Not just by one person, but by two. One of them is currently serving a sentence in Ohio for exposing himself to children. The other one was a lengthy ordeal that happened on an almost weekly basis. I won't say who did this, specifically, but I am sure you can gather by "weekly" who had access. This one was also an alcoholic, and was fine until he was drunk. I remember the details of what happened vividly, and I'm sure if I sat here long enough, I could recall all of the times they happened. "Just do it and get it over with," I remember thinking. I don't think it was the abuse that caused the emotional damage, though. I think it was the fact that he kept saying "I love you," while it was going on. That's not the kind of "love" that is supposed to happen in that kind of relationship. And this is probably why I am still a virgin to this day...so maybe it has affected me more than I let myself believe. Single for life, but only as a form of self-protection.

And...then there was the physical abuse that started about two weeks after that, when the dog got out and I was the easiest to blame. This particular person is now one of the strongest supporters in my life, right now. So I will again refrain from pointing out which "he" I'm talking about. You can draw your conclusions if you know me, personally, but disclosing names of people who had problems some 28 years after the fact can be traumatic for those people, and this is my story, not theirs. (in other news, 28 years ago, I was seven years old). I was thrown about my room, beaten with a stick, and left immobile on my floor until mom came home. Later that year, I was chased out of the house with a shot gun (some people deny this, but a bus full of witnesses -- including the driver -- saw it). And in the winter time that year, I was made to stand outside in the snow until Mom came home for a reason I don't really remember.

All of these are from the first six months after that Word of Knowledge. The sexual and physical abuse both carried on until I was old enough to leave the house. But there were other abusers, as well. When I was eight, the lady at the day care center chewed me out for not claiming kindergarten homework that belonged to an "ADAM" (name clearly written on the page). The gas station attendant locked me in a closet until I agreed to do unmentionable things for him. I was able to unlock the back door and leave. A friend's father tried to lure me into his house. The kids at school, who I'd been really good friends with, up to this point, suddenly became very aggressive toward me. Even my softball team mates were rude and uninviting. It was like everyone around me started shunning me. And all of this started after that Word of Knowledge. Which I'd completely forgotten about by my tenth birthday.

The funny thing about all of this is that I was already a natural loner. I spent a lot of time writing, drawing, listening to music, singing, playing video games, but I wasn't much of a socialite, though I loved to meet new people and make small talk. I was, and still am, horrible when the conversation gets deep. My conversations become massively one-sided, and come across quite like the words I am writing now. Everything is like a grand story that needs to be told, no matter how mundane the topic. I was fixated on the details of things. For instance, with flowers, I loved to look at the pistils and anthers and how the grains of pollen sat in the center of the petals. With bugs, I loved the ones who were iridescent in the sunlight. And there was something about music. I liked to try to dissect the instruments in each song. I'd listen to a song over and over until I could focus on, for instance, only the bass or only the backup vocals. Classical music was my favorite. So, if the pain of dealing with people was a problem, I was, by my nature, making it hard to detect.

I was a straight-A student in school. When I was nine, I stopped doing my homework. I told my fourth grade teacher "I did this last year, why do I have to do it again?" And that pretty much set the tone for the rest of my educational career. I lost interest, and because of that, never put forth any effort, except for test time, where I aced it and still passed with a baseline 75%, since that is what is required to pass. I was a teacher's nightmare. Smartest, most active student in class. Never did homework. Never had a reason. But give me a topic I am interested in, and I will research it into the ground until I am satisfied. Then, I'll tell you all about it in the form of a six page dissertation. Sometimes, I wish my fixation on things would be more technical, like cars or airplanes and not things that included people (like sports or cultures...or just people, for that matter). Maybe I should have been an anthropologist.

Anyway, as a result of my "odd" classroom / interpersonal behavior, I was given several tests in the sixth grade. I was 11. The school district's counselor tested me for a lot of things. Out of the tests came the discovery that my IQ was 147 (157, now) and a statement that I was too intelligent to have ADD or anything on the autism scale. I swear to you that I have, at the very least, Asperger's Syndrome. I was given a "PDD-NOS," which stands for "pervasive developmental disorder - not otherwise specified," and sent back into mainstream education, where I continued to rack up goose eggs and ace my tests. I graduated high school in the bottom 25% of my class, but with a 1580 SAT and a perfect 36 on the ACT, I was among the top 10% in the nation on national test scores. And even though it took four and a half years to graduate, I have the words "graduating junior" on my diploma. So it still looks good on paper.

The whole church thing was out of the window by the time I was in high school. My mom started attending a Seventh Day Adventist church, and something about them saying "THE Church" (meaning the ONLY church) of God's choosing turned me off. That, and the demand of getting baptized without taking time to consider it was odd. Don't get me wrong, the people were very nice, and the pastor was awesome. But...I just couldn't buy into what they were selling. I'd tried out several different churches in Abilene (which was rumored to be in the Guinness Book of World Records for having more churches per capita than any other city at one time) on my own, and almost all of them required baptism into the church. It seemed too much like "used car lot" tactics to me. And there were a lot of places that claimed to know angels by names, places that looked pretty and welcoming on the outside, but made me feel very dark and fearful on the inside -- something I'd learn later is a spiritual gift I have called discernment. Despite the church shopping and denomination hopping, with no success for a longterm fellowship, I stuck with my bible and developed an understanding on my own, avoiding anything that had to do with fellowship, since I just couldn't place faith in places that wanted submersion before submission. To me, it needed to be the other way around. Learn, then lean back, so to speak.

Very shortly after I graduated, I moved to Durango, Colorado to work for my uncle at his construction business. Talk about epic job. My title was “Executive Assistant,” and my job duties were just about everything one could think of. I took care of the house boat, the house, the bulldogs, and carried thousands of dollars in cash to the bank for the company. I’d assist my aunt with various um…personal needs. By that, I mean I’d go shopping with her and carry all her bags (and get my own outfits, out of the deal, too). On Saturdays, I’d clean the office and make sure certain supply orders were properly placed. On weekends, it was almost always at Navajo Lake or Lake Powell, depending on the time of year. And Lake Powell – wow. The scenery is so awesome, and the fishing was second-to-none. I even caught a 60lb striper, there. Well, it caught me – after a tiresome 45 minute fight, I fell over the rails on the stern of our house boat and into the water, but I got my hands wrapped around the beast. Just couldn’t save myself and the fish at the same time, so I had to let it go. I lost my Diawa rod and reel, too, in the whole mess.

But Durango, the year and a half that I was there, was such an amazing experience. I called the scenery “car crash beautiful,” because you’re always looking up at the La Plata mountains and you often forget to watch the road. And the residents were awesome. You knew everyone, and if you didn’t, you almost always had a one-degree connection. Which, being a small town, meant that if someone got into trouble, everyone knew about it within a week. I likened it to church gossip. People didn’t talk to be mean; rather, they talked because they actually cared…and to pass the time. Or, usually because there was nothing else worthwhile to talk about than other people.

Anyway, sometime while I was in Durango, and I don’t recall the trigger point, nor do I remember actually doing it, but I “came to” at about 6:30am on a Saturday, and my legs were aching and wrapped in towels. There was dried blood all over the place, all over my hands, all over the floor. What happened?!? I was clueless and scared. I took the towels off my legs, revealing very long, deep gashes. Some were still bleeding and in need of medical attention. I drove myself to the ER and got a hundred or so stitches while the nurses and a chaplain calmed me down and talked with me. This was my first personal exposure to self-injury. Actually, up until that day, I hadn’t heard of it. I didn’t black out due to drinking — I was very much so a non drinker, because I saw how negatively it affected family members, and how it turned a few of them into monsters. I did not want that lifestyle or problem for myself, so I avoided alcohol like the plague. But why on earth would I want to harm myself? I knew my stress levels were through the roof, and had been building for some time, but why would I ever want to do something like this to my own body? It served no purpose, other than to hurt like hell and leave some nasty scars. I started counseling shortly after this, but I was far too deep into denial in regards to my problems for anything to work. After a year and a half in Durango, I left for home.

When I returned to Abilene, I went back to a counselor I was going to shortly before I moved to Durango. I’ll call her J on here, if she comes up in future posts. She’s a friend, now, and I’d like to keep our counseling relationship private for that reason. But in our counseling, I was able to gather some reasons for why I would do this to myself. We noted that, at this point, I’d done this once. But through the sessions, it was noticed that it happened every 6 months, usually in April or May and October or November. These were when the seasons change. And it also seemed like I would contain my stresses until I literally could not hold them, anymore. I’d let these things pile up around my mind until my head would pop. Being that I was so accustomed to being the guilty party all of the time as a child, I blamed myself for everything that happened around me as an adult. So when I popped, I ended up punishing myself and getting stitches for all of it. It was, then, very important for me to learn to let go of these small problems as they happened, lest they grow into a pile so big that I could not handle them.

The last time I cut myself was April 19, 1999. I remember the date because it was the day before the shooting at Columbine High School. And again, I don’t remember the trigger, except that everything was so piled up that I couldn’t handle it, and I popped. I ended up with over 300 stitches and 127 staples in my arms and legs. Odds are, the trigger was something small like dropping the shampoo bottle in the shower, but out of the hundreds of thousands of other tiny straws that I’d piled up on myself, it was the straw that broke my inner camel’s back. And, for some reason, cutting seemed like the proper punishment for all of these small nuances that happened in my life.

I had a friend, who I was very close to, suggest that I go to church with her, which I did. It was a Church of Christ — and one of my favorite churches to this day, though I don’t go there very often, anymore. And I wasn’t a “regular,” though I was a member. Through my own study, along with the sudden influx of really nice people in my life from this church, the whole ‘relationship’ aspect of my Christian faith started to click. I began to pray regularly (read: all the time. In the car, when I woke up, hugged people, took a shower, went to bed, etc). I began to be very open about my beliefs. Everyone started to take notice of how much I was glowing about it, too. I felt really good, and it poured out onto others. Someone said “Suzie, you’re truly filled with the spirit! Everywhere you go, you light people up!” I wasn’t so humble to brush it off. I was proud of myself. But not in a prideful “look at me!” sort of way. I was doing things right, and it was showing. This was the first time I wrote a testimony about my life, and also the first time I shared it from the pulpit with a church fellowship (that was scary).

Shortly after this, my workplace had a FISH! Philosophy seminar, and I was reeled in — hook, line, and sinker (pun) — to the whole “leadership” phenomenon. I started to reflect the four standards of the FISH! Philosophy (among them were “be there” and “have fun”). I worked at a hospital, and it seemed like a corporately-thankless job — but there was so much mutual gratitude between peers, patients, visitors, and nurses that it more than made up for the lack of attention from upper-management. The patients must have loved me, because I earned a “You’re A Keeper” award, complete with my own Pete the Perch, which is something the hospital gave out to employees that the patients nominated. Mine was for customer service and leading from my position (which was far from a leadership role). So far as the self injury was concerned, I had gone from that day in 1999 to July 31, 2002 without any hint of wanting to do anything to myself. I give massive credit to learning to talk to God about everything, and really putting my faith where He was, which at this point, I placed Him everywhere in my life. An interpersonal conflict at work forced me to feel the need to quit, which was devastating. My side of the story is that I trusted a person way too much, and she tried to force me to go from Patient Services to the dish room. For the first time in my life, I was torn between being the people-pleasing girl who was scared to make anybody mad and standing up for what I loved (helping the patients) and saying no (which meant letting someone down). I said no, and it went downhill from there. I ended up feeling so much shame over it that I quit on July 31. I spent the rest of the afternoon sitting outside with a razor and arguing with myself over whether or not I should condemn myself yet again to that kind of punishment. I felt like I deserved it. In desperation, I shouted out “If I am useless, Father, then kill me. Please kill me. I am worthless like this. If I am useful, then make me useful!” I woke up the next morning, and for some reason decided to open to Isaiah, where for the first time I read chapter 53 verse 5: He was wounded for our transgressions. He was bruised for our inequities. The chastisement for our peace was upon Him; by His stripes we are healed. That was the last time I considered self injury as an option. I’d already been talking with the pastoral staff of my church, and and through our discussions and a LOT of prayer, I made a commitment to Christ and was baptized on my birthday, August 7, 2002.

With a lot of effort (and a little bit of luck), I landed a great job with the federal government. It was September of 2002, with a new administration created in the wake of the 9/11 attacks. I felt like I was finally able to do my part to keep our country safe. And after some of my experiences with this admin, I feel like I did just that — there is almost no greater fear than that of when you’re standing next to a bag with a possible IED in it. I learned even more about leadership, there, too. Since I loved to write, I started suziehall.com to share what I was learning, translating it to a more personal level, so that anyone could use the skills that were so instrumental to my own development and recovery. I wrote for my administration’s regional newsletter in a section called “Keep it Positive!” and got a lot of compliments for it. I also got employee of the year 2006 for my efforts, which I took as a sign that, again, I was doing things right. All glory to God! In 2007, I transferred to Denver, where I realized being an introvert in a place that was like Black Friday at Wal-Mart all the time wasn’t so bad; actually, it was kinda fun! I was right at home in such a stressful environment, and was frequently called on to diffuse tense situations. I got several awards and recognition for my customer service skills, and was promoted to a real leadership position in 2008. Everything was going so well! I was on top of the world doing something that I love to do (helping others in any way I can).

On Christmas Day 2008, several of us were working together to get around a server issue on the computers, and I got the phone call that would change my life forever. My mom said “are you sitting down?” ��“Yes,” I answered, knowing that when Mom asks this, it means something very bad has happened. She told me that my uncle David was in the hospital, and that he had a heart attack. Now, I haven’t mentioned him, yet, but David was my hero. My best friend, closest confidant, the only person in my family that actually knew me well enough to answer me before I spoke. We could get into the kind of fights that were full of — pardon my language — “F*CK YOU!” and would end with “hey, wanna get a pizza?” And we’d gotten into an argument around my birthday that was so bad that we weren’t talking. On the way to work that morning, I was driving down Pena Boulevard, blasting Chris Tomlin, praising and praying to God, telling him to wish David a Merry Christmas, and that I’d call him as soon as work was over. I couldn’t wait, because it was a good day to forgive someone and ask their forgiveness as well. But when Mom said David was in the hospital with a heart attack, she couldn’t bear to tell me that my grandfather found him dead in his house on Christmas morning. There are no words to relay the immense hole that immediately filled my heart. Only that I felt such deep sadness that the tears couldn’t climb their way out for another month. His favorite song was New Years Day by U2, and it was almost appropriate that his funeral was on January 1. I met so many people from his life that I’d only heard of, up to that point, and had several of his coworkers laughing hard – even at his funeral. One told me I was just like him, with my ability to make even the saddest days slightly enjoyable. That was a sincere compliment. David had this unique ability to make the darkest days a lot brighter. He was a firm believer in Christ, and we’d spent so many nights playing dominoes (aka “bones”) and doing bible trivia, and praying for my very skeptical grandfather’s salvation. David’s biggest fear was that he’d see my grandfather (I called him Peep) die an unbeliever.

The day David died, Peep began to read the bible, and he started taking it seriously. He asked me a LOT of questions. With my ability to retain information like a sponge, I was able to answer the majority of them, and even squelch his ideas about religion being created for the sole purpose of greed. While I agreed with him to an extent (that people use it as an excuse for war and seizing land and oil rights), that’s not the reason for religion — it’s a method of conveying the dire need for us to have a relationship with God. A relationship that, up to this point in my life, was on a baby-needing-milk maturity, even though I was on fire for it. Peep was already saved (at age 13), but he was finally affirming it in his early 70s. Sometimes it takes that long, but David’s pleas and prayers to God were not unheard — he never saw Peep die an unbeliever. And Peep did not die an unbeliever. A year and a day after David passed, Peep died in his sleep of natural causes. These were the first two deaths in my family — the only deaths, actually — that I was old enough to comprehend. I’d just turned 30 in 2008, and this was not how I expected this decade of my life to start, and I was not at all prepared for what would happen, next.

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