#but also they both are very capable of being cranky old couple

[confusedkittensposts]

I want to write some established Crowstiel, any ideas??

[ariars-art]

First post of the new name/direction of this blog with my Linked Universe Percy Jackson AU! Meet the Demi-God boys!

After cleaning out my room a couple of weeks ago I found my old PJO & HoO books and my old obsession clashed with my new one along with my passion for mythology! I have a lot of stuff thought up about this AU and I’m going to keep riding the self indulgence juices for as long as I can!

Some info on the boys/the AU can be found below! Not everything is below, I would like to keep some secret/for the future ;) And feel free to ask/send questions about the AU, I would die of happiness if you did!

Wind -Son of Poseidon (God of the Sea, Storms, Earthquakes, Droughts, Floods and Horses) Counselor of Cabin 3. -14 years old. 3 years at camp. -He is a summer camper, and lives with his Grandma and younger sister Aryll when not at camp, they are unsure if his sister is a Demi-God as well. -Has gone on a few of quests so far, mainly ones that involved the sea including one to the sea of monster with his best friend/best rival Tetra.  -Really excited about all his new cousins and family. -Hates being underestimated due to his age, he’s been on quests, he's a son of Poseidon, he’s just as capable as the rest of them! -Favourite part of his powers is his ability to talk to fish and horses. Horses don’t like him back though. Wild -Son of Hypnos? (God of Sleep and the Personification of Sleep) -Doesn’t even know his age, let alone his birthday. -A year round camper, well he’s got no where else to go. First year at CHB -All he remembers is being inside a nice plush cabin with lots of pillows a tree growing in the middle that leaked a milky colored sap that was dripping over his hands and lips. -Slept for a really long time and he guesses now he has no memory? At least that’s what Chiron told him. But why does he feel so guilty? -No quests just yet, he likes practicing archery trick-shots with the Apollo kids. -A daughter of Athena keeps trying to get him to eat frogs and bugs. Some of them make him feel funny. Twilight -Son of Lupercus (God of Shepherds and Wader against Wolves), Champion of Lupa (Wolf Goddess). Centurion of Cohort 3. -19 years old. 4 Years at Camp.  -Summer Camper, goes home despite it being uncommon for Romans to do so. -Wasn’t found until he was 15, his father was too minor of a god to really draw any attention to Twilight. He liked it that way. He trained himself and it was enough to protect himself for a couple of years. -When he was 15, one of his mortal friends was killed the crossfire of one of the few monster attacks, afterwards he was taken to Camp Jupiter. -Whilst completing his training in the Wolf House under Lupa the wolf Goddess, the she-wolf took a liking to him and agreed to train him further than other Demi-gods and eventually took him on as her champion. -On a quest met someone and they teamed up and he fell in love with her despite knowing that she could never love him back. -Talk shit you get the stick Sky -Son of Zeus (God of the Sky, Lightning and Thunder. King of the Gods) Counselor of Cabin 1. -19 years old. 3 years at Camp. -Year round camper, but wishes he could be a summer camper like his girlfriend. -Very in love with his girlfriend who is a Daughter of Apollo, they knew each other as kids but never knew they were both Demi-Gods. -Has been on only two or three quests but they were very big/very important and needed the power of a son Zeus. Doesn’t like to think about his first quest.  -Prefers to use his Wind powers over his Lightning Powers. -Feels quite bad due to the fact ever since he and his younger cousin (Wind) showed up at camp the number of monster attacks have only increased. -Jealous of Wind’s ability to talk to some animal, he wishes he could communicate with his bird.

Four -Son of Hephaestus (God of Fire, the Forge, Metalworking, Technology and Blacksmiths) Co-counselor of Cabin 9. -18 years old. 4 years at camp.  -Summer Camper, goes home to his Grandfather during the year. -Quite small for an child of Hephaestus but that doesn’t put him down. -Known for stealing extra end of year beads from the Big House. -Sometimes seen talking to himself. -Is most skilled in weapons but has dabbled in creating automatons but all he ended up with was a cranky bird who likes to sit on his head, he named him E.Z.L.O. -”Yes I did flex and my sleeves fell off, shut up Legend!”  

Hyrule -Son of Hecate (Goddess of Magic, Crossroads, Sorcery, Necromany and Light) -16 years old. 2 years at Camp.  -Year round camper -Still quite new at all this Half-blood Demi-God stuff . -His Saytr guide got killed while escorting him to camp, managed to make the rest of the journey by himself. -His magic goes a bit haywire when he is stressed, last time he turned 3 members of the Hebe cabin in an acorn, plank of wood and a toaster for a few hours. -A little scared cause he feels unworthy next to all his siblings and all the other heroes in camp, but knows deep down he might be stronger than most of them. -Keeps taking the new Hypnos kid into the forest around the camp and sometimes they don’t show up again for a few days.

Time -Son of Janus (God of Beginnings, Transitions, Time, Duality, Doorways, Passages, and Endings) Former Praetor of Camp Jupiter, Former Centurion of the First Cohort. -Age unknown, but he’s quite old for a Demi-god.  -Gave up the Demi-God life and his Praetor position years ago to go and live with his mortal wife. -Due to his powers he sometimes ends up walking through doorways through time and space. Thats how he ended up here. Not his first rodeo in this time though. -Was raised by a group of forest Dryads for the first years of his life before moving to Camp Jupiter.  -Been on many quests, including one which ended up with him having to battle against the primordial moon goddess Luna. After winning the fight he took her sword. - “Look, I didn’t ask to be a half-blood.” Legend -Son of Hermes (God of Roads, Travel, Athletes, Diplomacy, Thieves, Commerce and Trade. Messenger of the Gods) Counselor of Cabin 10. -17 years old. 7 years at Camp. -Year round/Summer Camper, it kinda changes every year. -Currently holds onto the record for the most quests at Camp Half-Blood. Kinda proud but also kinda over it.  -Hoarder of all sorts of items, unknown where he gets all these items from.  -Bonded with Hyrule while he was holed up in Cabin 10 before his claiming by Hecate. -He sees a possible opportunity in the son of Poseidon to help him return to the mysterious island he wash up on years ago. An island where he fell in love with a goddess who could never leave. But he is going to find a way, he will. -Stole a pair of his dad’s flying shoes, but turns out they were kinda a dud. Can’t fly but can run really fast. Warriors -Son of Mars (God of War and Destruction) & Legacy of Venus (Goddess of Love, Beauty, Desire, Prosperity and Victory). Praetor of the 12th Legion. Former Centurion of Cohort 5. -18 years old. 4 years at Camp. -Year round camper. He’s in charge so he’s got to stay. -At first thought to be another child of Mars with a pretty face he was placed in Cohort 5. He was quickly made centurion of the ragtag group of Demi-Gods and quickly the cohort was competing with the best of them.  -He caught the eye of the current female Preator and when her colleague failed to return from a quest, she promoted Warriors to Preator, despite him not having completed the minimum 5 years of service to be eligible for the position. -Most well known for helping defend Camp Jupiter during a war a year ago, which helped solidify his new position as Praetor. But he feels guilty for every life lost in each of the battles. -A bit of a heartthrob who can't help but flaunt his double legacy sometimes.

[there-must-be-a-lock]

wings & the way down - part 5

Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid

Word count: 1465

Warnings: One scraped knee, one cranky Spencer, and several mentions of homophobic high school bullying. 

Catch up right over here! 

Thursday, January 9

Of course they chose today, Spencer thinks bitterly, inspecting the damage to his bike chain. 

At least there wasn’t anybody around to see the fall; no sports practices on Thursday, and chess club ran late. There are only a couple cars left in the senior lot. 

So, yeah, no witnesses, but…god, that stings. No broken bones, but there’s plenty of broken skin, and the knees of his favorite jeans are shredded and bloodstained. 

His eyes feel hot and itchy, but there’s no way he’s going to cry, not here, not now. He has things to do. He can handle it. He’s fine. 

And in a few months, he can leave, and he’ll never have to see Charlie fucking Hankel ever again. 

Spencer grits his teeth as he gets gingerly to his feet. His knee throbs when he moves, and Spencer hisses at the pain, trying to bend down and pick up the bike without putting too much weight on it. 

Someone’s coming out of the school doors, and Spencer almost ducks his head and starts walking before he realizes it’s Emily. 

“Spence!” she calls. Just behind her, looking up from his phone as he hears her shout, is Derek. 

Of course. 

Emily winces sympathetically when she sees the damage, but she doesn’t look surprised. Derek, though, goes all wide-eyed when he realizes Spencer’s hurt; he half-jogs over. 

“Shit, you okay? What happened?” He reaches out and puts a hand on Spencer’s shoulder in a gesture that’s probably supposed to be comforting. Spencer shrugs it off. He’s standing close enough that Spencer can smell him, and that’s — 

Nope. Not gonna think about it. 

He looks down at his ratty Chucks so he doesn’t have to see the genuine concern in Derek’s eyes. 

“The usual?” Emily asks Spencer, which, duh. “Hey, wait, how do you guys know each other?” 

“We met in the park the other day,” Spencer mutters. 

Emily waits, one eyebrow raised, but he doesn’t volunteer any more information. She looks between the two of them shrewdly — Derek’s got his hands in his pockets, hunched a little like he’s anxious — and Spencer wonders what she sees. She’s gotten herself a reputation for being the rebellious, no-fucks-given type, but she’s a hell of a lot sharper than most people give her credit for. 

“Do you need a ride?” she asks, before the pause can get too awkward. “I gotta get home to my French tutor or my mom’ll shit bricks, but I could drop you somewhere on the way.”

“No worries, I’m fine. Don’t think my bike would fit.”

Emily drives a cherry-red convertible Bug that’s basically the same size as his bike. She also drives like an idiot. 

“Suit yourself,” she says, and waves at both of them as she goes. “See you Saturday, new kid!” 

“We’re working on a project together,” Derek tells Spencer, even though he didn’t ask. “Hey, I’ve got the truck, we can just throw your bike in the back and I’ll give you a lift.” 

“I’m okay.” 

He is. He will be. He can take care of himself just fine. 

“Your knee looks rough, man, you really shouldn’t walk on that.” 

Spencer stares at him. He’s about a second from screaming, he’s so done, and maybe some of that shows in his face, because Derek recoils slightly, hands raised in surrender. 

“Shit, sorry, I was just trying to help.”

Aaaand now Spencer’s an asshole. 

“Yeah, okay,” he sighs. “That’s — sure.” 

He walks (limps) his bike over to the truck he remembers seeing at the Morgan’s, Derek slowing his pace so that Spencer can keep up, which is infuriating. Derek lifts the bike into the bed of the truck like it weighs nothing. 

It’s not until they’re pulling out of the school lot that Spencer mumbles, “Sorry. Just been a rough week.” 

“Yeah? You wanna talk about it?” 

“Not really,” Spencer says, attempting a smile, but he’s never been very good at hiding his feelings — which is even more problematic than usual, right now, because he can’t stop staring at Derek’s profile as he drives, or the confident, capable way he shifts gears as the old truck wheezes onto the main road. 

“Fair enough.” 

The fact that he’s not pushing for answers makes Spencer feel like even more of a dick. 

“Turn up there, by the way,” Spencer tells him, and then, when the silence starts to stretch awkwardly, he asks, “How’s your first week going?” 

“Not bad. Met a couple cool people. Emily’s a badass.”

Spencer snorts. “Yeah. She really is.”  

“You guys hang out a lot?” 

“Not really,” Spencer says, because they don’t, at least not outside of school; he doesn’t really hang out with anyone. “We usually sat together at lunch, last semester, but we don’t have the same lunch period any more.” He doesn’t want to admit how much he misses that. Emily’s one of the few people who’s always been nice to him — other than JJ, which doesn’t count, because JJ is nice to everyone — and beyond that, she’s the only person who’s ever really stuck up for him. 

“Apparently we have a friend in common. She used to go to school with my girl Penelope, I guess, and we’re gonna all hang out this weekend. You wanna join?” 

He comes to a stop at a red light and shoots Spencer a sweet, easy grin, and Spencer just blinks at him for a second. 

“Why?” he blurts out. 

Derek laughs. “What do you mean, why?” 

“Why do you want to hang out with me?” Spencer sputters, and when Derek gives him a blank look, he gives an exasperated sigh. “You’re new. And you’re — I mean, you’re good-looking —” 

“Aw, shucks.” 

“— and you’re a jock and you’re cool. And you’ll have it easy, you’ll have friends, you’ll have girls falling all over you, but — not if you hang out with people like me and Emily.” 

He says quietly, “You two are the most genuine people I’ve met since I got here.” 

“Yeah? You know what genuine gets you around here?” Spencer snaps, before he can stop himself. “Messed-up bike chains and a whole lot of time shut in lockers. Not to mention —” 

“Wait, really? Somebody did that on purpose?” 

Spencer rolls his eyes and barrels on. “Emily gets by, because she’s loaded and she’s pretty and she knows how to fight back. But I — the second day of high school, when I was a freshman… this guy was making fun of my clothes, and he said, ‘What, are you gay or something?’ and I said yes. Because I didn’t know it was something you were supposed to hide, and —” 

“Oh,” Derek says quietly. 

“Yeah. And I’m not — I’m no good at hiding, and it wasn’t like I’d be cool anyway, it’s not like the kids who run things around here would be inviting me to parties even if that hadn’t happened, but it’s not —” Spencer is babbling, and he makes himself stop, take a breath, before he continues. “Just… trust me, okay? You could have it so easy.” 

Derek’s quiet for a long moment, and Spencer realizes they just missed the turn to get to his house. Maybe it’s better that Derek doesn’t pull up out front, though. He doesn’t know what kind of day his mom is having. 

“Turn right up here,” Spencer mutters. “You can just drop me at the end of the block.” 

Derek parks there without a word, and then he parks and gets out to help Spencer with his bike. Spencer goes to take the handlebars, but Derek doesn’t let go, at first. There’s a fierce, intense expression on his face that Spencer can’t quite read. 

“I’ve been one of the cool kids, and it’s not — I don’t care. That’s not me.” Spencer opens his mouth to argue, but Derek cuts him off angrily. “No. I’m sick of hiding shit, it doesn’t get you anywhere, and — fuck it. Just cause people think I look or act a certain way… I’m not interested in those people.” 

It’s Spencer’s turn to let out a soft, “Oh.” 

Derek sighs. He seems to shake himself out of it, and his voice is calm when he asks, “So how about it? Will you come over Saturday?” 

What the hell is Spencer supposed to say to that? 

“Yeah, okay,” he mumbles, and Derek gives him one of those disorientingly bright smiles as he steps back, releasing the bike. 

“Cool.” He gets back in the drivers seat as Spencer stands there, just watching, but before he closes the door he calls, “See you soon, pretty boy.” 

Spencer raises a hand in a wave before wheeling his bike around and starting to limp home. 

.

.

.

[skekheck]

30 Days of the Dark Crystal Challenge

Decided to do poultry-blocks Dark Crystal challenge because it looks like a lot of fun to do. However I’m cheating and I wrote all of this within a couple of days. Warning: fairly large post with pictures and fan ramblings. 

EDIT: I FORGOT TO INCLUDE DAY 16 WHOOP. It’s in there now. 

Day 1. Your favorite skeksis

Idiot, feral, wildman who stole my heart. How? Why? Who knows. *chef kisses* Beautiful stinky bastard.

Day 2: Your favorite gelfling

Bless her and her skeksis cosplay. What a queen.

Day 3: A character that you love that everyone seems to hate.

The tides are changing for her it seems. I think people are appreciating her more, but she still faces her fair share of controversies. Not that I don’t think it warrants discussion nor am I excusing her actions. But she’s way more complex than what a lot of people are making her out to be.

Day 4: A character that you hate that everyone seems to love. 

Hate is a strong word as I don’t hate him, but I don’t really care for Amri. He feels like a bootleg Deet mixed with a little bit of Kylan and Gurjin. Wasted potential and honestly shouldn’t have been the POV for Tides of the Dark Crystal. Seems I’m alone in this opinion, though. Maybe the book warrants rereading?

Day 5: Movie or TV Show? Why?

TV Show by miles! I think the series accomplishes way more than the movie does, like establishing lore,  better written characters, and a more engaging story. I actually cared about the gelfling and it really fleshed out the skeksis in an interesting way outside of “oh they do evil things because they’re evil!”. Doesn’t mean it does everything right, but I’ll get into that later.  

Day 6: Something you wish that happened in the series but didn’t.

Just a few things. I miss the gelfling intermingling with the mystics, particularly urVa. I love everything that happens with urGoh and skekGra, but some of the bonding moments Naia had with urVa are precious and I wish we had more of that. I also wished the gelfling got the message out to the other clans like they did in the book where Kylan dreametched their message onto the Santuary Tree’s blossoms and scattered them all throughout Thra. I also wished Tavra and Onica were an established couple, but maybe it’s not too late for that.

Day 7: Favorite gelfling clan

The Sifa! It was the Dousan at first, but the more I learned about the Sifa the more I grew to love the clan. If I were a gelfling I would probably be a sifa myself LOL. 

Day 8: You opinion on Aughra

She’s a fun and fascinating character! Aughra puts a unique spin on the whole beautiful, wise earth goddess trope by making her ugly, old, and cranky. She’s also a character with her own flaws, even having a mini arc about neglecting to take care of her planet and doing whatever she can to make amends. Not to mention she’s wildly entertaining. Much love for Aughra!

Day 9: Skeksis or Gelfling?

Both!

Day 10: Your opinion on podlings?

They’re just funky little potato people who just want to have fun, dance, and drink all day and I respect them for that. They’re great. Also Hup exists and he’s just an amazing character so there’s that.

Day 11: Your The Dark Crystal unpopular opinion

I think it’s okay to sympathize with the skeksis as long as one is not excusing their actions. I see a lot of people say you shouldn’t because they’re evil and they commit atrocities. Which, yes, it’s true, but I think both can co-exist. I mean, skekTek’s whole cycle of abuse is written very sympathetically yet the show doesn’t coddle him. It shows the ugliness of his character and what happens when someone isn’t capable of cutting off from said cycle. Also the writers consider the skeksis as tragic characters due to their broken nature so I don’t think it’s wrong to be a little sympathetic. But once again with great emphasis, sympathy is fine as long as their actions are judged. They are awful bastards and no amount of sympathy will change that. 

Day 12: Something you dislike about the series

I think the stuff I don’t like about the show is a result of its pacing and cluttered cast. There are so many stories going on and while I liked how they handled it for the most part, you can also see how the show rushes to get through all of them. A lot of important moments where a character should reflect or something that should simmer more is pushed aside for the next thing. Maybe if the show was given more episodes and time to breath it would have been better off. 

Day 13: Most disappointing thing about the series

SkekMal and urVa didn’t have enough screen time and we were honestly ROBBED. 

Day 14: Your OTP

Speaking of which... . Its a crack ship, but I’m all about that allegory for self love (and I just want these two to be alive). Day 15: Favorite quote

Listed plenty of my favorite quotes before, but I’ll pick this one:

“ Life is my paint. Death is my canvas”

Day 16: Rate the skeksis from least favorite to favorite OR rate the gelfling from lest favorite to favorite [or both!]

And if you want my gelfling hot takes, here’s this list (just backwards in context to this post)

Day 17: Opinion on Raunip?

Raunip is a fantastic character. I loved him in Creation Myths and I can’t wait to see what role he’d play in the resistance. And I absolutely love the parallels between him and the urskeks it’s great. 

Day 18: A character that is most similar to you.

I too am a dark-dwelling gremlin who constantly forgets where I put things and crack a few dark jokes at my expense. 

Day 19: Which character do you strongly dislike, why?

This is entirely based on the books, but I find Mera to be awful.  I think it’s because she’s so fake and condescending? When Naia arrived in Sami Thicket, she was acting nice and polite but when the Drenchen asked her why the skeksis never visited Sog Mera responded  “It’s only worth counting what’s valuable”. She continuously disrespects her by calling her pet names even when Naia became maudra. It doesn’t come off as cute, it’s gross. I don’t recall Mera ever apologizing for any of the shit she did to Naia... or Kylan for that matter. She was a pretty neglectful step-mother to him. She doesn’t have an excuse being busy with Maudra stuff because Laesid was a kickass mom to her kids. So in conclusion, fuck this bitch.

Day 20: What do you like so much about the Dark Crystal?

The better question what’s not to love about the Dark Crystal? It has amazing creature design, an expansive world that feels real and alien from our own, having complex and interesting characters as well as villains, the fact that it relies heavily on practical effects a.k.a puppetry... . There’s nothing like it and that’s what makes it so wonderful and unique. It needs to be appreciated more. 

Day 21: Favorite music piece from the soundtrack?

Can’t beat that opening theme. 

Day 22: Your opinion on the sequel comics [Power/Beneath the Dark Crystal]

They have cool concepts and ideas, but they’re not written well. Power is just the movie if it was put into a blender and shredded and ignoring a large portion of established lore for the sake of plot. And Beneath is just a generic fantasy story with the Dark Crystal logo slapped on it. 

Day 23: Which character from the YA novels/comics do you wish we would see more of?

There are plenty of characters that are a given to appear in the series at some point (skekSa, skekLi, urSan, etc). And of course I want to see them, but I really hope Periss shows up (and his brother too). He is one of my favorite characters from the book series and we could use some more Dousan rep!

Day 24: Your opinion on the Age of Resistance comic?

I have yet to read the comics. I’m waiting on them to be part of a collection so I don’t have to buy all of the volumes at once (I prefer owning physical copies). I’ve heard good things about them, especially the story with Hup and the current Mayrin arc. I’m excited to get my hands on them. 

Day 25: The best moment/scene in the series?

There are a lot of great moments, but Rian and Ordon’s fight with skekMal is still my favorite in the entire series. The "Speak For the Dead” scene is a close second.

Day 26: The death of a character that hurt you the most?

He did not deserve this. Fuck you, skekMal. 

Day 27: Your favorite episode from the series?

It’s got to be 4. Not just because a number of my favorite characters debut in this episode, but it’s an important one for the plot. Stakes are being raised, we’re seeing set ups to major story elements and character arcs, and events that impact the rest of the series. It also has a handful of my favorite character moments and interactions. 

Day 28: Your favorite non-skeksis and non-gelfling character? Why?

I’ve come to realize the reasons why I love urVa are the same as why I love skekMal (incredibly appropriate I might say). There’s enough information about him that we get a good understanding on who he is as a character, but still mysterious enough that there’s interest in wanting to know more. Much like his skeksis, he’s unique from the other mystics and thus giving him unique experiences that are fun to speculate. However, the YA novels are responsible for my current fondness of him. 

Day 29: Do you like the urru and skeksis apart or like them as urSkeks together?

A main theme of the Dark Crystal is unity and balance. The main conflict of the franchise are the skeksis, the broken fragments of their urskek self who, according to the writers, “...[have] a dire need for the qualities they lack”. Their only salvation is to become urskeks again and unfortunately many of the pairs never achieve this.  They’re basically a giant allegory for the self and self-love. While we don’t really know what they were like when they were an urskek (aside from SilSol perhaps), we can get some understanding when we look at their pairs and see what traits they share. Speculation is also fun! So as much as I love the skeksis and mystics as individuals, I prefer them to be whole again.

Day 30: What are your wishes for a possible season 2?

A whole bunch of things. I want to see them explore more about the mystics and their lifestyle, having Raunip play a big part in the plot, seeing more of skekSa’s fall from grace from her perspective, the beginning of the Garthim Wars, and more. 

[purplesurveys]

1109

What were you like at 17? Infinitely more naïve than I am now. I was going through my first heartbreak, funnily enough caused by the same person who is the reason for my current heartbreak, but that’s a story I’ve shared a million times. Anyway, at 17 I was still in high school so I was definitely more carefree about a lot of things; I wasn’t worrying about the future too much just yet, and I was still set on taking journalism. I was also going through my first family death which allowed me to explore a new side of my emotions.

Tell us about your first kiss. I had been really nervous about it and I felt like I wasn’t ready. But she was very gentle and took her time with me that night, even though I could tell she really wanted to have that kiss. I knew I hadn’t been a good kisser for my first, but she seemed to have good memories of it years later when we revisited the experience.

Tell us about your worst date. I’ve never been on a date with someone I wasn’t seeing.

What’s your biggest flaw? I’m extra sensitive and can’t take even the most playful of jabs without feeling the least bit hurt, unless the dig came from someone I’m extremely comfortable with, like Angela. That makes me the worst person for banter in most cases and it makes me not the most approachable person.

What’s the coolest thing you’ve bought lately? To be honest with you, I only ever buy food lol. I’ve been an employee for three months now and I have yet to buy something that’s meant to be an investment or is meant to last with me. 

Who is your celebrity crush? Can’t really decide between Kristen Stewart and Kate Winslet. Love them both.

What is your biggest pet peeve? I don’t appreciate lateness very much, especially if people have no reason to be.

What’s the song you most wish you had written? I don’t really think like this. If anything, I’m grateful there are songwriters out there who can pen songs that perfectly encapsulate my thoughts and feelings.

What do you always take with you when you travel? Phone, laptop, my chargers for each, wallet, and too many clothes because I like having multiple choices on what to wear while I’m traveling.

Do you have any pets? Two dogs.

Have you or someone you know ever drunk dialed? I never have, but I probably know a ton of people who have.

What is the worst break up you have experienced? The most recent one. The person I trusted the most hurt me in more ways than I could ever imagine. She seemed so desperate to get rid of me, and I will never be able to shake off the excruciating pain of feeling unwanted. She made it sound like I put her on a leash when I did nothing but attend to her every need and adjusted in a million ways for her comfort while never asking for anything back. I blamed myself for months, never knowing what exactly I was blaming myself for.

I worked my goooooooddamn hardest to get to where I am today, and I’m not sure she deserves to re-enter my life after the work and fixing I’ve done to be able to forgive and love myself.

Have you ever been stuck by someone very annoying on a plane/bus/etc? I don’t think so. The only one I remember was a seatmate on a plane who snored for the entire trip, but it didn’t bother me too much. When was the last time you were rejected by someone? Late 2020.

Has someone way older than you tried to hit on you? Nope.

Have you ever been cheated on? Never. 

Did you get lost at all on your first day of high school? No. I went to the same school from kinder to high school, so by freshman year I could’ve gone through the entire campus blindfolded.

Have you ever been interrupted during sex? Yeah many times.

Have you ever been recorded doing stupid things while drunk? Yeah, I’m the favorite for that kind of content haha. I can get quite silly when drunk.

Has a significant other ever called you by the wrong name? Nope.

Have you ever cooked anything and it turned out horrible? Not exactly, but close. I’ve baked stuff before that ended up tasting like nothing.

What is the worst birthday you have ever had? I don’t think I have one that’s in the running for absolute worst, but my 21st birthday coincided with Easter Sunday so I couldn’t invite anyone to celebrate with me. Gabie’s parents, who aren’t even particularly religious, didn’t allow her to celebrate with me because it was Easter, so that was a blow. Angela saved the day by taking me to dinner and spending the whole evening with me, but by the end of the evening Gabie and I had a lengthy argument and she kept trying to break up with me. It was a miserable end to a mostly miserable birthday.

Have you ever choked on chewing gum? Probably briefly in the past. I don’t have any moments that stuck with me.

Have you ever found anything dirty in a siblings room? No, but I also don’t go looking around through his things. < Same.

Have you ever made a bad first impression on someone’s parents? I’m sure I have. I once made a mess in a high school classmate’s bathroom when I cleaned my hands to get red food coloring off of them. I did want to clean it, but my mom suddenly came to pick me up so I had to leave the sink in such a messy state. Years later and I still feel bad about it, even though I’ve never been close to that girl and I’ve never visited her house since.

When is the last time you got into a fist fight? Idk man, 15 years ago? The only physical fights I’ve gotten into were with my siblings and cousins when we were kids.

Have you ever been spit on by a llama? I don’t think I’ve ever even seen a llama in real life.

Have you ever locked yourself out of your car/house? The house, yes many times. Never out of my car.

Describe how you got one of your scars. My right ring toe got caught in the gears once when I was riding my bike.

Describe how you’ve broken a bone, if you have. Never have. Would hate to feel what it’d be like D:

Have you ever had a near death experience? The time I got shocked when I was 11 probably comes the closest.

When you get cold at home, do you get a sweater/hoodie or get a blanket? I rarely get colds. When I do, I just wait for it to leave; I don’t really do anything to deal with it.

Do you require visual assistance? (i.e.; glasses or contacts) I’ve had glasses since I was 11.

Do you work out? Occasionally.

Describe the last cup you drank from. It was just a clear glass that had water in it.

What is a food that you always are in the mood to eat? Sushi and sashimi.

Do you like sausage? I’ve never liked sausage tbhhhh. It tastes odd to me.

Ever held a newborn animal? I don’t think. The closest I’ve come to holding a newborn was meeting Cooper when he was two months old and barely looked like a beagle.

Do you make a wish when you blow out your birthday candles? I haven’t had a birthday cake in a while, but in general I do make wishes when I get the chance to blow out candles.

Have you ever been to Boston? Nope.

Describe your hair at the moment. I showered a few hours ago so it’s still a bit damp, but otherwise it’s nothing special.

What is the last thing you searched for online? I looked for a synonym for a certain word, but I don’t remember what it was.

What are you sitting on? The chair in my room. I actually haven’t sat on it for a couple of months, so it feels pretty refreshing to do so again.

Could you use a massage right now? If I could get rid of how terribly ticklish I am, I would so appreciate a massage right now, yeah.

Is it wicked hard for you to sleep when its hot in your room? Yup and I also get insanely cranky as well. Being hot is one of the worst sensations ever, if not the outright worst.

Do you sleep on your stomach/back/side most often? On my stomach with my arms and legs wrapped around a pillow.

Do make sure you dot your I`s when you write? Yes.

Do you dunk your cookies in milk? No, I just like to eat them on their own.

What did you wear today? I had a tank top and shorts for most of today.

Do medical terms make you uncomfortable? Not really, unless I’m diagnosed with a certain condition lol.

Are you afraid of failure? Yeah because I really hate losing or people thinking I’m not capable enough. The older I get and the more experiences I gain, though, the more I’ve been less afraid to commit mistakes. More and more I realize everybody I deal with are people who also make mistakes and are afraid of making mistakes.

Have you been called a bad influence? I’m sure I have.

What about Chinese food? Love it or hate it? I loooove Chinese food, but it’s not one of my top favorites.

How do you feel about getting new neighbors? I honestly have no clue who any of my neighbors are, so I would barely notice if we got new ones.

Why were you last in a hospital? I needed to get blood and urine tests because my fever wasn’t going away and it was time to figure out what was wrong with me.

When is the last time you went to a doctor, and why? We needed him to figure out what I had from the results of the aforementioned medical tests, and for him to prescribe the proper medicine for me to take.

[oddeyecadia]

for the love of god

an obey me x noragami au

also posted on ao3

Humans fall in love so easily. One look from another and they'd be head over heels for them, hold the door open for them one time and they'd be thinking about it for a week, one would kiss them in a dirty parking lot and they'd immediately plan a whole future with said person, only to be ghosted by them after a month. (M/C) found it both hilarious and fascinating how easy it was for humans to jump from one relationship to another.

But people from the Near Shore live a short life, it would make sense for them to fall in and out of love so quickly. Love was just easy for them. Every soul is capable of loving, whether it be with a person, nature, art, science, or whatever drove their passion.

Love was what made humans, well, humans.

However, love didn't only bring sunshine and rainbows. Love could cause possessiveness, narcissism, manipulation, and cloud one's logic. Though, it wasn't love itself that was causing these corruptions.

"There's only one phantom surrounding the house, (M/C)." Said one of their regalias, Satan.

Humming in acknowledgement, they lifted a hand to shade their eyes from the blinding ray of sun, focusing on the house that stood out from all the other homes in the city. Architecture wise, it wasn't out of the ordinary, but the subtle yet horrifying noises coming from it wasn't something anyone from the Far Shore could ignore. The different voices, random squeaks and grunts. Phantoms made the most disgusting sounds, (M/C) wished they could just shut up sometimes.

"I can definitely sense it but where exactly?" Mammon asked, taking a step and almost falling off the rooftop they were on as if it would help him look closer. (M/C)'s heart did a little jump as both god and regalia screamed.

"Mammon, be careful!" (M/C) shouted in panic.

Thankfully, Lucifer was there to pull his brother back, grabbing him by the arm a little too tightly. "Give (M/C) another heart attack and I will gladly push you off this building myself, Mammon."

They sighed in relief, not because they were scared in the first place, but because Mammon was. They internally cursed the bond between Gods and regalia for making them let out an embarrassing screech, but also thanked it for giving them another reason to tease Mammon for.

It took the white haired a few moments before he stood up straight again, trying his best to pull a confident smile. "O-Oh yeah? What's falling gonna do? Kill me?" The quiver in his voice completely destroyed the supposed sarcasm.

"It'd break a whole leg if you're not careful, scumbag." Levi said, finally looking up from his phone. (M/C) could just imagine how long the lecture from Lucifer later would be about bringing unnecessary gadgets on a mission.

"Hey! That ain't how you're supposed to talk to your older brother!"

"Enough." Lucifer said firmly, making everyone freeze in terror, even the god beside him themself. "Satan, are you certain there is a phantom around the house?"

Satan nodded in reply. "It's small but it's there. We have to be careful, though, the person who made the wish is inside."

Just as (M/C) was about to ask him to be more specific, two people appeared through the open window of the highest room. They thank the heavens the building they were on was close enough to the house that they could see the two humans properly without a vessel.

Said humans were a guy aggressively shouting while throwing his hands around like a mad man and a woman with her fist clenched, face red, from what they guessed was frustration.

Ah, lovers quarrel.

It was normal for couples to fight, miscommunications among significant others happen all the time. (M/C) knew very well that love could make people do stupid and reckless things. If there was a phantom involved though, evil could corrupt the love and stupid decisions might turn deadly in a snap.

Their mind went back to the wish they received earlier that day. It was from a woman who was having troubles with an easily jealous husband. Apparently, he got fired from his job so she accepted a job offer with better pay from a friend and since then, the husband started acting weird and aggressive. It was mentioned that her and said friend had history which gave (M/C) a big clue on what was really happening.

For every wish made in a god's shrine, it would be written and sent to heaven along with information about the wish maker. It wasn't like (M/C) was getting a lot of wishes in the first place, so they immediately took action once they read said wish.

"Wrath." They called, turning Satan into spectacles that perfectly fit their face. "Scan the house."

At first glance, Wrath looked like ordinary glasses. But as people from the Near Shore would say, there was more than what meets the eye. Because of Satan's bright mind and long training, Wrath developed numerous talents. Not only did the lenses help (M/C) see better, it would also show specific data about anything it focused on and served as a target pointer for better aim when it came to distanced combat.

Zooming in on the windows, the lenses gave them a better look at what was happening inside the room the two humans were in. They've noticed how the woman was then shaking and how fear was much more prominent in her expression than earlier. They turned their attention at the man and stiffened.

"There!" They exclaimed as their eyes locked on the spider-like phantom on the back of the man's neck. It was still small as Satan had said, perhaps as big as a ping-pong ball. Unfortunately, no matter the size, it could still cause huge trouble. "Lock on it, Satan." A cursor was then shown on the lenses, targeting the phantom.

Friction from their black uniform caught their attention when Asmo, in his Lust form, asked in concern. "You're going to shoot it from here, dear?"

"Yup." They stretched their arms and back in preparation. "Don't worry, we'll hit it."

Lucifer approached the god closer. "(M/C), I doubt not your aim, but it is dangerous to shoot from this distance. You might either hit the human or destroy the house."

They fought a gasp. It was probably their imagination but a part of their upper back–almost to their neck, ached as if something had stung it for a second. They weren't that old, were they? Gods who were 500 years of age were considered young in the Far Shore and they had the body of a young adult human, it was too early for them to have back aches. And what was this sudden urge they were having?

An urge to... do what Lucifer just warned them might happen.

Simply blaming the stretches for their ache along with the heat making them cranky, they shook it off and stopped moving right away.

"(M/C)?" Lucifer called again, this time less stern and more concerned.

They cleared their throat before facing him with a determined look.

"I won't miss. Besides, it's better to be this far so it couldn't smell us. We better do something before that thing gro–" Their sentence was cut off by the phantom's deafening shriek. Their eyes left it for one second and suddenly the man was gripping his hair so tight, veins almost popping out of his forehead as he screamed at his partner. The phantom on his neck was growing at every word. "Gluttony, Sloth!" They immediately called and soon, a large metal bow and sharp arrow were in their hands.

A hint of worry that wasn't theirs weighed their mind. Whether it was Belphie or Beel's, they weren't sure. "Guys, you good?" They asked the weapons in hand.

The arrow, Belphie, was the one who spoke. "Yeah, just– I'm not sure I can create a border without hitting the guy."

"You can do it." (M/C) assured him as they lined up their body, pulling the bow string back. "You and Beel practiced a lot for this. Also, Satan and I will help. Just trust us." Aiming at the then basketball sized phantom, they waited for the twin's nerves to calm down. When the doubt completely faded away, they took one last breath and released.

The man was about to grab his partner when the arrow successfully shot the phantom away from his neck. Tension seemed to left the man's body as his fist unclenched and the anger was replaced by tears.

They couldn't help but crack a smile at the perfect aim.

"Did we do it?" Beel asked.

(M/C) called for Sloth once again and the arrow dashed back to their hand. "I told you you guys can do it!" They praised their regalias, not even trying to hide the excitement in their voice. This wasn't the first time they've used Sloth and Gluttony, they've been through many missions before, but it was just recently that the two decided to train together to better themselves as vessels and their progress meant a lot to (M/C). "Belphegor, Beelzebub." They called, turning the twins into their human form once again.

"Thanks, (M/C). But uh..." Belphie said followed by Beel frowning.

"But what?"

"Don't get too excited just yet." At Lucifer's warning, their eyes immediately went back to the house. The phantom was nowhere to be seen. However...

The horrifying noise continued, and it was getting louder.

"Woah–" Levi exclaimed.

A shiver run down their spine as the same phantom appeared and crawled slowly up the house, this time its body was covering the whole roof. Their heart stopped when they couldn't see the couple anymore.

"I saw the woman run downstairs." Mammon said as if he had read their mind. "The guy was back at it being an angry mess."

Lucifer spoke again, not losing his calm. "(M/C), that thing is not a normal phantom. I suggest not having direct contact–"

"Pride."

"(M/C)!" All remaining composure was lost for the regalia.

Lucifer turned into huge black wings attached to (M/C)'s back before he could even lecture said god. His scolding could be handled later, they would happily listen to him talk for hours but first, they had to do something before the phantom corrupts the man to insanity.

Strong winds blew when they spread their wings, making the brothers take a step back. That was a little bit stronger than usual. Perhaps disobeying their exemplar was a bad move. But to their advantage, Lucifer had always been more powerful when pissed.

"Satan, lock on the phantom's weak point." They ordered before jumping off the building and soaring the sky with ease thanks to Pride's impressive control.

Gliding towards the house whilst avoiding poisonous webs shooting from the phantom's mouth, they called for another vessel. "Envy!" A long shuriken was soon in their hand. They heard a faint mumble about warning me next time, jeez from Levi before they quickly threw Envy at the phantom. The spider let out a screech when it got hit near its mouth.

"Now's our chance. Greed!" Adrenaline ran through their veins when a katana with a blinding gold handle appeared in their hand. This was definitely their favorite part.

Gripping the sword tight, they soared closer to the phantom before charging their vessel. "You, who desecrate this Land of the Rising Sun! With my advent, I, (M/C), lay waste with Greed and expel thy vast defilement!" They swung the sword with grace, striking the phantom with its blade. "— Rend!"

Flashes of light burst through the phantom's body as its screams were cut off. It was annihilated in a second without damaging the house or anyone nearby which put an assertive grin on (M/C)'s face.

"Take that, you little shit!" They said proudly, still flying above the house.

A chuckle came out of Mammon who was still in his vessel form. "Ya know, for a god of love, your words aren't very lovely."

"You know, for a sword, you're really not that sharp."

"Hey!"

Despite not being the wisest, though, Mammon was still their second most powerful regalia. Him, Lucifer, and Levi were the only ones who could handle being cast by the Rend spell. It was the reason why they would always save him for the final blow.

They knew Mammon was already babbling about how great he was followed by his brothers disagreement. Of course, they'd love to join their bickering but before they could even open the mouth, their attention was caught by something else.

The couple was back in the room.

The two were almost unrecognizable. Tears rolled down both of their faces as the man fell to his knees, holding the woman's hand. Just moments ago, the two were screaming at each other as if they weren't a step apart, it was like watching a thunderstorm. But as the the woman knelt down to embrace her partner, burying her head on his shoulders, the atmosphere shifted and it was suddenly a calming rainy day.

Humans fall in love so easily because for them, love was easy to find. It was staying in love that wasn't just a walk in the park.

Most of the wishes (M/C) would receive were either from people wanting to forget someone or from couples who were getting tired of fighting, literally and for their relationship to work. The latter was tough work because it would usually have a phantom in the picture whilst the other would just be one strike away from solving. Still, (M/C) loved giving couples a helping hand, not exactly fixing their problems but making them remember why they fell in love in the first place. It would be up to them if they would want to continue holding on each other or not.

(M/C) let out a sigh.

If only love was that simple for gods as it was for humans.

[ofvera-blog]

hello, i’m dri ( she/her + pst ) !! i’m seventeen ( actually in the process of preparing for my good ol’ filipino debut next month lmao ) & i’m really excited to rp with all of you !! anywaY, this is veronica, but people just call her vera tbh bc she prefers that nickname & introduces herself to people as such :~) she’s really soft & sweet & i love her sm !! i have some info abt her under the cut, so feel free to message me for plotting or like this post & i’ll go to you !!

♡ — * » VERONICA CHOI looks so cute on the beach !! apparently, she comes from the united states and is a nineteen year old heterosexual cisfemale student. other hotel residents described them as endearing & dependable, but also quixotic & vehement. don’t you think they look a bit like JENNIE KIM ?

WHO THE HECK IS VERA?:

born veronica dahyun choi on june 29, 1998 in san diego, california but grew up in a city in los angeles county

she was raised by her single mother since birth, along with the several long-term boyfriends she’s had. she got along well with all of them, but she ended up more skeptical about the next each time. this kind of affected her mentality with her own relationships, but nevertheless, she can fall really quickly & really deeply. she’s just hesitant about acting on her feelings because, at the same time, she doesn’t know if it’s a fleeting emotion LOL

her mother didn’t intend on getting pregnant at the age of 23, but after finding out she was, she was ready for it. her boyfriend,,, not so much. they got in a lot of verbal battles, & he ended up leaving. vera never knew him & her mother wouldn’t dare let her try.

vera really looked up to her mom because she saw her as being so strong. she wanted to be strong like her. when men left her life, sure, she was upset & maybe shed a few tears, but her mom would never let it affect her to the point where she would be moping. her mom was capable of being independent. vera aspired to have that same mindset. she doesn’t quite have it internalized, but she’s trying to get there, more or less.

although she grew up a rather timid & shy girl, toward the end of middle school, she had made a few super close friends & become more comfortable in her own skin. in high school, she would think a lot of what other people thought about her & sometimes change subtly to seem appealing to other people. this sounds so cliche, but it wasn’t until she started dating that she began to realize her own worth & that she shouldn’t be trying to be someone she’s not for people who won’t accept her for who she is. she used to be so afraid of taking the chance of not being liked. i mean, she still is afraid of not being liked, but more ready ( ? ) for it i guess

vera’s currently a computer science major at uc san diego. she took ap computer science during her junior year of high school & found it to be quite interesting & fun ??! a lot of other people in the class were struggling with the logic & syntax, but she took to it naturally. she’s unsure of what path she’d want to take in the future, though. that part she’s still figuring out. also, she despises having to troubleshoot with a passioN !!

timing was honestly everything when it came to her decision to take up the offer to stay at hotel dionysus. jeremy, vera’s boyfriend of four years, ended their relationship a month prior, & although she was able to realize how toxic it became toward the end, she felt that she had tried so hard to mend everything & make him stay that she sort of lost who she was a little bit, so she hopes that going to a new place with new people help her become, you know, vera again. ( which means potential shifts in attitude, mindset, etc. from time to time )

WHAT’S SHE LIKE?:

she’s really friendly & sweet but she’s not, like, super oblivious u feel ?? very down to earth, but if she’s really comfortable, she could playfully roast the shit out of you. in a loving way, of course. if she’s in a certain mood, vera could be sarcastic as heLL, but it’s a little funny & endearing.

she’s honestly,,, a huge dork. people feel warm around her.

vera’s the type that rly identifies with her zodiac sign ( cancer ) & if she were to tell someone after they got to know her, they’d probably be like “o shit that’s so you”

incredibly loyal, even to a fault. she’s guilty of putting other people over herself from time to time.

she’s an extroverted introvert type, so it takes a little getting to know her before she can completely be herself around a person. not so much a party type. she gets socially exhausted easily if she goes to social functions & highkey needs to have time for herself every now & then or else she gets super nervous, maybe cranky.

a solid go-to if you ever need to vent or need comfort. want a shoulder to cry on ?? vera’s got you. i can’t guarantee that she’d give any solid advice, but she’s reliable when it comes to someone who is understanding & sympathetic. does ever take her own advice ?? lmao ur funny

if u kno the song “i fall in love too easily” by chet baker, that’s honestly,,,, vera. like. calm down. she literally just got out of a four-year relationship, so she is probably not emotionally stable atm to pursue anything. howeve r,,,, i’d never know with her if someone were to pursure her tbh.

she’s a pretty intelligent girl, but she doesn’t boast about it. she graduated high school with an unweighted gpa of 3.93 & took 8 ap classes, but aside from the occasional, random fun fact about how we share 50% of our dna with bananas or something, she never says anything about it ! she just picks stuff up rather easily.

oh, boy, can she hold a grudge !! she will forgive ( maybe ), but she will never forget if you hurt her. she can be super sensitive & will probably cry if you upset her. however, she is trying to be incredibly strong emotionally, & it takes a lot to truly hurt her, which is why she would still stick around people who sometimes treat her like shit if she gets attached to them. she just tears up at little things, honestly. those thai life insurance commercials ??? no chance. she cried at her high school graduation, man.

FUN FACTS:

collects pins & her collection is roughly at 107,,, never take her to anime expo i s2g she spends so much money there !! surprisingly enough, she never entered the realm of disney pin trading. 

she has also co-owned & operated her own online enamel pin shop for two years with one of her friends & it has garnered a pretty solid customer base. they also sell stuff like embroidered caps.

vera was a blogspot blogger from the age of 15 to 18 ( mostly fashion & makeup ) & had a nice following on both her blog & other social medias, but she stopped consistently blogging after she got busy with her growing shop & other responsibilities. her pre-existing follower base is also a good reason why her shop took off well.

she had a youtube channel very briefly when she was like 17, but after a couple months short of a year, she didn’t have enough time to keep up. there’s, like, 16 videos on her channel. i would imagine they’d be like princessmei’s

a sucker for 50s & 60s tunes, esp jazz like ella & billie but also the four seasons etc !! she was a part of her school’s advanced jazz choir for three years as a mezzo-soprano after being in the women’s show choir ( her music literacy is amazing holy shit ), & she was vp of the group senior year. a lot of her closest friends stem from that group, so they still kept in touch after graduating.

vera is a super duper lowkey poet !! she feels so much, & she found that poetry was an amazing outlet for her to express all of the emotions she sometimes bottles up to full capacity. however, she’s really insecure about her writing & would never show anyone unless she truly trusted them. she really admires spoken word poets & watches button poetry videos religiously. 

she speaks english, conversational korean, & high-school-level spanish

[geekgirlnavigatingtheworld]

I expect spectacle when I see a Luc Besson movie. My eyes will be exhausted from trying to track a thousand and one things at any given moment, and my brain registers a plot and story are in there somewhere, but, quite frankly, I’m in so much visual ferret shock, the first viewing of the movie is pretty much a giant exercise in saying “OOOO! Lookitdat!”. I don’t just accept this, I go gratefully along for the ride.

“Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets” is based on a series of French graphic novels. I know, I know, being Madam Obvious, there, but, just in case someone reading this doesn’t know, there it is.  This movie is essentially about Valerian and his partner Laureline trying to save Station Alpha, a giant conglomerate of space stations created by thousands of different species (including humans) which has been released to float through space to avoid crashing it into the Earth. A mysterious zone of contamination has cropped up in the middle of Alpha Station. Nobody seems to know what caused it or why, and the Commander of Alpha Station is determined to stop it. Valerian and Laureline are the best agents the government has to offer, so, naturally, they’re called in.

Visually, the movie is stunning. World building is done through progressively more fantastic images, piling on sensory input to provide the eyes with a bountiful feast. The costuming and set designs, as well as the animation are done gorgeously. From a purely aesthetic standpoint, I have no complaints.

Story-wise, however, well, let’s start with it. If the plot seems a bit simplistic, that’s because it is. I understand there are different types of stories with different driving mechanisms. Valerian is written as though it’s intended to be character-driven, however, it’s clear from the outset the setting is the driving force, which is emphasized and reinforced through the scenery. This one suffers from poor and inconsistent writing which would only be acceptable in the framework of a parody.

The characters aren’t really anything new here. Valerian is an overconfident cad, Laureline is a verbally and physically abusive woman who seems to mistake bitchiness for toughness and strength, Clive Owen’s character is-exactly what you peg him for the moment he steps on screen and, in the climactic reveal, ends up elevating his two-dimensionality to glossy standee levels. It’s all predictable. Really predictable. I knew what was going to happen as soon as all our principal players were introduced, which I found both sad and frustrating. I’m also going to more than quibble with a character set up like Valerian’s, where, one minute, he’s got to be chewed out by everyone on the mission with him for not reading his memo, then in a pivotal scene claiming he’s a soldier who’s all about the rules and going by the book. What. the. actual. fuck? No. No. Character development (which there’s zero in this movie) requires character consistency. A truly dedicated by the book soldier would have read that memo so many times he had it memorized, not obstinately, willfully stayed clueless so as to endanger everyone else on the mission with him.

Canonically, Valerian’s pretty much a dick. Besson didn’t mess with that character description much at all. However, with a character like Valerian, he needs to be played by an actor who has the charisma and screen presence to pull it off. Dane DeHaan was not the guy to do it. He just couldn’t pull off the necessary swagger, and instead of seeming laid-back, he comes off as sedated. I’m still not sure if he as an actor was confused or phoning it in.

When it comes to Laureline, I don’t think Cara Delevigne was miscast. I think she got bad direction. Laureline is intended to be the capable one who gets things done. She’s supposed be tough and feisty. She can GET mean, but I was never under the impression Laureline was practically as bad as everyone she’s attempting to save the world from. In the opening scene, which is supposed to be one of those fighting as foreplay kind of scenes, there’s a total lack of chemistry between DeHaan and Delevigne, to the point that, rather than flirty or playful (trust me, there is an arctic desert of playfulness going on there), it’s really uncomfortable and awkward. These two actors are wrestling for superiority and beating the shit out of each other while trying to normalize it in a context of “playing hard to get” and jockeying for dominance. There’s no sexiness. None. Zip. Zero. Zilch. I will forever point to this as a scene of “No. Just, no.”

Laureline charges through the movie beating people up and shooting things while either screaming or barking at people. She’s supposed to be intimidating. I found her mostly psychopathic. I wanted to see her have more facets than “Generic Kick-Ass Unattainable Soldier Girl”. I wanted her to use some diplomacy and some eloquence to solve some problems, instead of violence, especially given Station Alpha’s intent (which is stated several times, explicitly with the EXACT SAME PHRASE EVERY TIME) to be a place where all species come together to share knowledge and intelligence. It’s really not the kind of place where violence first seems like an acceptable or effective policy. But, you know, as a woman and a feminist, I’m supposed to be totally satisfied with Laureline showing a tiny bit of tenderness when she’s designated the caregiver of an alien creature, which, of course, she knows exactly how to nurture back to health. Dammit. She’s a Mommy to an alien pet. Did I mention this happens when it’s established she’s the only woman in a room full of dudes? No? Well it does. Three more dammits in a slumped formation, let me tell you.

So, in addition to writing issues, we also have two massively unlikeable characters we’re supposed to somehow develop empathy for and root for to ultimately get together. They’re set up as so laughably toxic I can’t hold out any hope for their relationship to survive. 

Clive Owen shows up to chew through scenery and snarl, which he does pretty well, especially given what he had to work with. At least he had a couple of different emotions I could find believable. 

And yet...I still don’t feel as though my ticket was a waste of money.

Rutger Hauer made a return to the big screen in a blink and you might miss it role, but I’m still very happy to see him. He does cranky old bastard well and it’s fun to see him play it.

Herbie Hancock shows up as the Defence Minister. I didn’t  know he acted, but he did and he was easily one of my favorite parts of this film. He had an air of wise gravity and common sense “Valerian” desperately needed. Yes, I admit it, every time he came on screen, I thought to myself “Oh, thank god, there is an adult running things here after all!”

Ethan Hawke’s turn as a sleazy space pimp was inspired and hilarious. He gave himself over to the part with complete, gleeful abandon and it showed in every second of screentime. He was having fun and, honesty, I needed to see someone in the movie looking like they were having fun being in it.

Rhianna also did a great job as Bubble. I’m not sure if this was her movie debut, but she was also great fun to watch. She definitely seemed to be having fun there, too. I was impressed with the impact she gave her character’s relatively small part. She was memorable in all the best ways.

I do like that Luc Besson is a Big Picture kind of thinker. It shows in his movies. He sees the forest and he’s so very excited to show you the entire thing, he sometimes forgets why a single tree might gain importance. He gives his audience credit for being able to follow him when he makes time and logic jumps, and he’s obviously not afraid to try new things. As a filmgoer, I find when I watch his movies, he gives me so much to look at, I see different trees and follow a different path every time. I can appreciate his style and his enthusiasm.

I had a discussion with a friend just yesterday. We were talking reviews of “Valerian” and, of all things, Michael Bay. I don’t like Michael Bay and my friend had to ask, “But why? What’s different about a Michael Bay spectacle versus a Luc Besson one?” 

Admittedly, when I watch a movie, it’s a visceral, emotional experience for me. I watch first, as a rapt starry-eyed little sprocket. Then, I turn around and analyze the hell out of it. My friend was asking me to articulate a difference I hadn’t actually tried to verbalize before.My answer surprised me.

I don’t like Michael Bay movies because he condescends to his audience. His disdain for the public he can so easily shill for their money drips out of his movies more and more obviously with each new sequel. It’s so obvious in the trailers they string together I don’t even have to bother with the movies anymore. He doesn’t care about the franchise. He doesn’t care about the fans. His movies have a rote list of checkboxes and standard-issue explosions, car chases, and female body exploitation scenes in order to distract from the lack of plot and character development. He does his best to shiny thing away the plot holes and inconsistencies.

I’ve never felt as though Besson was throwing cheap tricks at me to keep my butt in a seat and make his box office. Instead, his movies, at least his true spectacle movies feel like someone who opened up a toy box and is trying to show his new friends every wonderful thing he just discovered and convince you to come and play, too. He’s tripping on the thrill of his own imagination and doing his absolute best to bring everyone else along on the ride with him.

So, yes, I loved the eye candy. The alien designs, especially for the inhabitants of Mul (which should have umlauts, but I don’t see how to add them in Tumblr) are very striking. The glimpses of the worlds within Alpha are interesting and intriguing. I found myself wanting to watch this movie again for inspiration for stories I want to tell because it’s so full of sheer concept. 

“Valerian and the City of a Thousand Planets” is a beautiful romp in a Luc Besson sandbox. It comes with some frustrations attached, but I’m glad I saw it.

[allyinthekeyofx]

Small Considerations Between Partners - 1

Small considerations between partners AllyinthekeyofX

Summary:

A series of vignettes that feature moments of friendship and love between our two favourite agents. One for each season and also both movies with some being more along mature lines. All will be canon compliant, a couple will be post episode. Chapter 1: Chocolate drops do not constitute medicine - Season one

I can feel Mulder watching me from across the room.

I hate it when he watches me like this; it makes me feel uncomfortable to know he is filling his working hours scrutinising me instead of concentrating on the job in hand and God knows he must surely be aware that they are just looking for a reason to shut us down. Working but not working isn’t exactly going to further his cause should we be called to question as to why the reports requested by Skinner and which litter his chaotic workspace are being largely ignored by him right now.

But today I’m aware that really, I only have myself to blame because when I woke up this morning with a pounding headache, limbs that alternated between a dragging heaviness and a nauseating ache that settled right in the marrow of my bones and a throat that felt like someone had miniaturised themselves to an extent that they were able to climb in there at some point during the night and do a sandblasting job with powdered glass, I probably should have just admitted defeat and called in sick.

I didn’t of course because being sick constitutes being weak and Dana Scully does not show weakness. No Siree. So I just self-medicated; hoping for the best as I forced myself in to the shower where I stood limply, hoping the heat of the water would in some small way chase away the chills that were racing up and down my back at fairly regular intervals.

I kind of knew this was coming – a rare day out this past weekend in the sole company of my small Godson had seemed like a precious gift at the time – but as the day wore on the gift became less enjoyable as his six year old self escalated in crankiness at roughly the same rate as his temperature had risen and by the time Ellen arrived to pick him up, Trent was clinging to me like a four-limbed limpet; heat radiating off him as he coated my shoulder in a not inconsiderable layer of snot and drool and I was already steeling myself for the inevitable.

Because I’ve noticed during the course of the months I have been working alongside Mulder that I seem to pick up every bug going. Maybe it’s the fact that we spend relatively long periods just with each other that makes me an easy target when I finally venture out in to the germ ridden world above or it’s simply that I don’t take such meticulous care of myself as I did in my pre-Mulder existence; that having him as a partner pretty much negates adequate sleep and regular wholesome meals.

Annoyingly though, Mulder seems to positively thrive on the disjointed lifestyle that working on the X-Files demands; able to function at the top of his game on scant rest and a diet of greasy take-out food.

Because he is never sick.

Ever.

You would be forgiven for thinking that, as is often the case with irritatingly healthy individuals, that he has no patience with illness in others and certainly my Father had enjoyed years of rude good health before the coronary unexpectedly and cruelly took him from us just a few short months ago; and back when we were kids only impending death or a temperature close to combustible levels were sufficient for us to be tucked in to bed and fed chicken soup. If neither applied we were just expected to suck it up.

But Mulder? Mulder is different. Maybe it’s due to his fine New England upbringing or maybe it’s simply due to the fact that he hasn’t had anyone to be concerned about for a very long time but I have noticed, even from right at the very beginning when he clearly didn’t trust me and resented my reasons for me being thrust in to his domain, that he has always been extremely sensitive regarding my continued wellbeing.

In fact, “Are you okay Scully?” has been levelled at me so many times that I now find myself always automatically assuring him that I’m fine even when I’m not and it’s not that I want to hurt his feelings, nor that I am immune to his concern, but frankly I am a grown woman and more than capable of taking care of myself.

Well, except on days like today of course where a wholly misplaced pride prevented me from listening to the little voice inside my head that told me the smart thing to do would be to simply turn up the heat in my apartment to tropical and crawl back to bed where I could quietly wallow in a pit of misery until such time as my body deigned fit to fight off the virus that had invaded it courtesy of Trent.

But I hadn’t. I had instead dragged myself to work and tried to hide from my partner that in reality, I felt pretty much like death warmed over and I should have known better than to try to fool a man who can strip me inside out with a single glance. Hiding things from Mulder is like trying to knit with the wind – a lot of effort with nothing to show for it at the end. And right now as I feel his eyes boring in to me, I know that he is building himself up in order to address his concerns.

His words though, when they finally come, are as far away from what I was expecting as they could possibly be.

“Chocolate drops Scully.”

I jerk my head up and wonder suddenly if my slight fever is actually worse than I had thought and is in fact, giving way to auditory hallucinations.

I glance across at where he is lounging back in his chair, relieved in part to find he is looking straight at me.

“Chocolate drops Mulder?”

“Yep. Best medicine there is for sore throats.”

“Mulder I haven’t got a sore….”

He holds his hand up and like Pavlov’s dog I immediately stop, recognising the futility of denial where this man is concerned.

“Scully I know you’re sick. From the minute you walked in this morning it was obvious; you look like hell and every time you swallow you pull this face…”

He grimaces and closes his eyes briefly in a pretty accurate representation of a baby sucking on a lemon then grins apologetically at me. Clearly my attempts to appear normal have been less than successful but I decide to let it go in order to address the bigger issue.

“Chocolate drops do not in any way constitute medicine Mulder.” I assert with all the dignity I can muster.

He shrugs, still grinning.

“Suit yourself Doctor Scully but it’s the truth. My Mom used to give us chocolate when we had sore throats. Forms a coating or some such thing and I’m no medical doctor but….whatever it did it worked.”

I immediately bristle on the slightly teasing inflection given to his use of the word Doctor, because despite the way he is looking at me, eyes soft with concern, a slight frown worrying his brow, I am in no mood to play games with him.

“Placebo effect Mulder” I snap

He nods sagely

“If you say so.”

“And besides” I continue. “I’m fine. It’s just a cold and even if it were more serious I have a whole host of tried and tested remedies sitting in my bathroom cabinet to fall back on. Chocolate drops I might add are not amongst them.”

I probably shouldn’t have told him I was fine because for Mulder, me denying what he has already convinced himself of just makes him more determined to be proven right; whether it be seeking validation regarding the existence of life on other worlds, weird paranormal mumbo-jumbo or missing time phenomena, Mulder believes what he believes and he rigidly stands by those beliefs; directing the same unwavering certainty when making assertions as to my state of health and while on some level I admire him for it, today I just find it invasive and mildly annoying.

I’m unsurprised though when he pushes himself to his feet in one graceful fluid movement and crosses the small space that separates us, standing before me and rendering me immediately at a strategic disadvantage by his looming presence over me. I probably should feel slightly unnerved by his close proximity, not least because my eyes are now at roughly the same level as his crotch, and try as I might I can’t seem to make myself avert my gaze. Thankfully though, Mulder drops down to rest on his haunches and places his palm gently against my forehead and his touch is so deliciously cool that I make no attempt to pull away from him.

“Christ Scully you’re burning up. You should be at home in bed.”

My shoulders slump slightly because deep down I know he’s right but at the same time I’m annoyed that he feels such a need to state the obvious all the time.

“It’s not that bad Mulder.”

Maybe he hears the slight warning tone in my voice that he needs to back off right now, because he removes his hand and checks his watch.

“Look, it’s almost four-thirty. I’ve got a couple of errands to run first but why don’t you stay here and finish up and then I’ll run you home? Is your car here?”

I shake my head, less annoyed than I was a few seconds ago because it seems that, today at least he is prepared to offer a compromise.

“No I didn’t feel like driving so I caught a cab.”

“Okay then good. I’ll be forty-five minutes; maybe an hour and then we’ll call it a day, and Scully? Try not to die on me while I’m gone; the paperwork would be a bitch.” Despite myself I can’t help a smile that tugs at my lips and he nods, clearly satisfied as he grabs his coat and exits the office.

XXXXXXXXXXX

As good as his word Mulder drove me home and despite myself I was grateful that I was with him and not some faceless stranger in an unfamiliar vehicle as he negotiated his way through rush hour traffic, glancing across at me every now and again but not passing further comment as to my state of health; he merely cranked up the heat in the car and found a radio station that helped to create an atmosphere of such relaxation that I was asleep within minutes.

I have hazy recollections of him waking me up with a light touch to my face as he smoothed a few errant strands of hair from where it had stuck to the corner of my mouth and I was pleasantly surprised when, seeing me start to shiver once I was out of the warm cocoon he had created in the car, he put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me against him, sharing his warmth with me against the frigid winter air as he walked me to my apartment.

He had, with an impish smile that made him look like a little boy, offered his help to get me undressed and in to bed but I had refused, shaking my head as I brushed off his playful banter lightly, even as a small part of me wondered what would happen if I decided to accept his offer. I suspect though he would have turned tail and exited as fast as his long legs could carry him. Mulder I have discovered seems to be all talk.

As it was though, he waited until he was sure I was all tucked up in my warmest flannel pyjamas and fluffy robe, staying in the apartment on the pretext of needing a coffee before he drove home; I didn’t hear him leave though because I was asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow and I think I may have been dreaming when I felt the heat of his lips press gently and briefly to the centre of my forehead, imagining the sound of his voice murmuring above me.

“Sweet dreams Scully.”

When I awoke hours later there was a glass of water and a couple of pills on my bedside table along with a small, beautifully wrapped square box. It was about the size of a baseball I guess and I couldn’t imagine what he might have bought for me; or why for that matter.

But now, as I hold the opened package in my hands I can’t help but smile at both the contents and the message of the small tag that I carefully removed from its ribbon tie.

‘One to be taken as required’

And as I feel the rich dark chocolate melting on my tongue and coating my throat with smooth mellow sweetness I decide he might actually be right about this whole medicinal chocolate thing.

Maybe I will call him later and tell him so.

Maybe.

End

[sureyhny]

A Girl and her Tent

Well, technically, it’s really a girl, her tent, and another 30 lbs of gear strapped to her back (while she hikes up a mountain) but who’s counting, really?

(Uh. I am, you guys. I am counting Every. Single. Ounce. in that pack, because those are big fucking mountains sometimes.)

Up until a couple of years ago, my most amazing life experiences– the things that really taught me to dig deep and take a hard look at who I am when shit gets tough— those experiences all happened on the farm. Or when I lived in a garage for 18 months and built a house in my spare time. Or, you know, during any one of the numerous “what the fuck were you thinking?” projects I’ve taken on over the last two decades.

I’ve documented most of those things on this website, so trust me when I say that I find it as strange as anyone that in the last year or so those amazing life experiences–the ones that have taught me to dig deep, and take a hard look at myself when shit gets tough– well, they’ve mostly happened when I leave the farm entirely. When I hike out into the wilderness where there are no projects, or power tools, or big responsibilities.

When I’m just a girl with her tent.

And I guess maybe it isn’t that surprising that after 15 years of finding bigger and crazier ways to challenge myself through house projects, that eventually I’d be so comfortable in this space that I’d start challenging myself elsewhere.

But I never would have guessed it would be camping.

I mean, previously in my life, when people suggested I might like “camping”,  they were met with, at best, polite incredulity. After all, I have all of the benefits of camping in my backyard (wide open spaces, bonfires, a beautiful view) along with a king-sized mattress and indoor plumbing just a few steps away. Sooo… camping? Hard pass. Thanks though.

You guys, I also once said, definitively, that I would never own a house because it was too much work. So, I mean, when I’m wrong, I am wrong.

But, to be fair, all of my previous experiences with tents had been in “car camping” settings, and there’s a big difference between car camping and backpacking.

For the uninitiated:

Car camping typically means sleeping in a tent at a drive-up campground that, more often than not, has tiny, cramped campsites, and at least one annoying group of kids that stays up way too late drinking beer and talking VERY LOUDLY (because I am a cranky old lady who has wicked insomnia at home, but also has a very strict bedtime when I’m in a tent. Obviously.) To be fair, I’ve actually done quite a bit of car camping in the last two years when I go outdoor climbing–enough that I have a designated car camping tent– and I’ll tolerate it (with earplugs), but I don’t love it the way I love backpacking.

Backpacking, on the other hand, means hiking out to places you cannot reach by car– which also means you have to carry, on your back, everything you need to survive— and either “dispersed camping” (i.e. pitching a tent in places where there are no designated campsites) or staying at rustic campsites that tend to be private and have basically no amenities (other than maybe a bear locker to store your food in so an actual bear doesn’t mistake your tent for a human-sized snicker bar one night.) And this, it turns out, is one of my very favorite activities.

Here’s why:

For me, there’s typically months of prepping that lead up to a hike. Prepping for the travel (finding a good trail, figuring out the best time to hike it, planning for flights or drive-time there, and figuring out how to best get to the trailhead and back.)

Then there’s the physical prep. Studying elevation maps of the trail, and making sure I’m both strong enough and have the endurance to hike 12-20 miles a day, sometimes straight up, or, worse, down hill, always carrying a ~35lb pack, occasionally with not as much oxygen as I’m used to at sea level.

I spend a lot of lunch breaks on a stairmaster with a weight vest on…

It also means prepping my gear, which entails a lot of studying the terrain, understanding the weather, putting together meals with the minimum amount of weight and maximum amount of calories, making adjustments to my gear list based on lessons learned in previous hikes, and always, always trying drop the weight in my pack. (Trust me, on your 20th mile of the day, every ounce counts.)

And then, the adventure.

So, so many late night or early morning flights. I don’t think I’ve ever started a hike well-rested.

You can’t fly with fuel canisters, so there’s always a “where the hell can I get a fuel canister” panic when I get to my destination. (Legit walked 7 miles to 3 different stores in Reykjavik the night before a hike to find fuel once.)

Then, getting to the trailhead.

I’ve rented cars at the airport, dropped them off at the closest rental to the trailhead, and walked the last few miles (a pre-hike, hike.) I’ve rented a van with strangers, who after 4 hours in the car became friends, and spent the weekend hiking with them. I’ve taken busses, and, once, a ferry (sea-sick is a fun way to start a hike, let me tell you.)

There’s always some confusion as to where the hell the trail actual starts, and then, after all that…

The hike.

This is the moment, every single time, where all the chaos of travel and over-thinking falls away. This is the point where you pick up your pack– everything you need for 3-5 days right there on your back– and start walking.

I love every part of this. I love the minute the uncertainty fades away, when the map and compass and trail all line up, and I know I’m headed in the right direction. I love feeling the physical training kicking in after just a few miles on the trail, when my body responds to the hard work of carrying a pack uphill and falls into a rhythm of “hell yeah, we’ve got this.” I love when civilization and day-hikers fade away, and I’m the only person as far as the eye can see. I love that moment, when it really sets in that I’m out there, on my own, and everything I do counts. Every decision I make is vitally important to survival.

There are no takebacks on the trail. No “oops I forgot” and running to the store. But (as I learned on my first solo hike) you can’t be the nervous nelly who packs 50 pounds of gear “just in case” and expect to get anywhere either.

I’m not a person who has ever been able to relax on a beach for more than a few hours, or “shut off” from work for more than a day or two, so being out on the trail is the only time in my life when I’ve been truly able to unplug. Not because I don’t have service (I mean, that too) but because my immediate needs become paramount. Do I have enough water? Where’s the next good place to refill? Am I still on the trail? Have I consumed enough calories? Am I feeling steady on this sketchy path with a 2000 ft drop off both sides? Do I need a rest? How many miles before dark?

Have I said I love every minute of it? Because, guys, I love every minute of it. Even the minutes when I want to quit. When I realize I didn’t bring the right blister-pads for my feet and that shit is going to hurt for the next 30 miles. When my water runs low because I didn’t fill up at the last stream. When I literally fall asleep on my feet, while walking, in the middle of the day. When I’m counting every step of the last mile down a treacherous hill, swearing under my breath every time I lose my footing.

When it goes from a humid 65 degrees at sea level, to freezing rain at 4000 ft, all inside of a couple of hours.

And also when I find myself in the most beautiful places.

Because I’ll tell you this, I’ve structured my life on the farm in a way that tests me. That very often asks me to do hard things and be the best version of myself. But it doesn’t quite compare to this. Adventuring this way, out in the wilderness on my own, it isn’t just that I’m asking myself to be smart, and strong, and capable in general. It’s the immediacy of it. There is no choice but to be smart and strong and capable in this moment.

And that is an incredible feeling.

When I reflected on my life on the farm in 2018, it made me stronger, but in a way that felt disconnected from the things I love about the farm. This part of 2018 though? This made me stronger in a way that grounded me, right to the core.

from Home Improvement http://diydiva.net/2019/02/a-girl-and-her-tent/ via http://www.rssmix.com/

[andrewysanders]

A Girl and her Tent

Well, technically, it’s really a girl, her tent, and another 30 lbs of gear strapped to her back (while she hikes up a mountain) but who’s counting, really?

(Uh. I am, you guys. I am counting Every. Single. Ounce. in that pack, because those are big fucking mountains sometimes.)

Up until a couple of years ago, my most amazing life experiences– the things that really taught me to dig deep and take a hard look at who I am when shit gets tough— those experiences all happened on the farm. Or when I lived in a garage for 18 months and built a house in my spare time. Or, you know, during any one of the numerous “what the fuck were you thinking?” projects I’ve taken on over the last two decades.

I’ve documented most of those things on this website, so trust me when I say that I find it as strange as anyone that in the last year or so those amazing life experiences–the ones that have taught me to dig deep, and take a hard look at myself when shit gets tough– well, they’ve mostly happened when I leave the farm entirely. When I hike out into the wilderness where there are no projects, or power tools, or big responsibilities.

When I’m just a girl with her tent.

And I guess maybe it isn’t that surprising that after 15 years of finding bigger and crazier ways to challenge myself through house projects, that eventually I’d be so comfortable in this space that I’d start challenging myself elsewhere.

But I never would have guessed it would be camping.

I mean, previously in my life, when people suggested I might like “camping”,  they were met with, at best, polite incredulity. After all, I have all of the benefits of camping in my backyard (wide open spaces, bonfires, a beautiful view) along with a king-sized mattress and indoor plumbing just a few steps away. Sooo… camping? Hard pass. Thanks though.

You guys, I also once said, definitively, that I would never own a house because it was too much work. So, I mean, when I’m wrong, I am wrong.

But, to be fair, all of my previous experiences with tents had been in “car camping” settings, and there’s a big difference between car camping and backpacking.

For the uninitiated:

Car camping typically means sleeping in a tent at a drive-up campground that, more often than not, has tiny, cramped campsites, and at least one annoying group of kids that stays up way too late drinking beer and talking VERY LOUDLY (because I am a cranky old lady who has wicked insomnia at home, but also has a very strict bedtime when I’m in a tent. Obviously.) To be fair, I’ve actually done quite a bit of car camping in the last two years when I go outdoor climbing–enough that I have a designated car camping tent– and I’ll tolerate it (with earplugs), but I don’t love it the way I love backpacking.

Backpacking, on the other hand, means hiking out to places you cannot reach by car– which also means you have to carry, on your back, everything you need to survive— and either “dispersed camping” (i.e. pitching a tent in places where there are no designated campsites) or staying at rustic campsites that tend to be private and have basically no amenities (other than maybe a bear locker to store your food in so an actual bear doesn’t mistake your tent for a human-sized snicker bar one night.) And this, it turns out, is one of my very favorite activities.

Here’s why:

For me, there’s typically months of prepping that lead up to a hike. Prepping for the travel (finding a good trail, figuring out the best time to hike it, planning for flights or drive-time there, and figuring out how to best get to the trailhead and back.)

Then there’s the physical prep. Studying elevation maps of the trail, and making sure I’m both strong enough and have the endurance to hike 12-20 miles a day, sometimes straight up, or, worse, down hill, always carrying a ~35lb pack, occasionally with not as much oxygen as I’m used to at sea level.

I spend a lot of lunch breaks on a stairmaster with a weight vest on…

It also means prepping my gear, which entails a lot of studying the terrain, understanding the weather, putting together meals with the minimum amount of weight and maximum amount of calories, making adjustments to my gear list based on lessons learned in previous hikes, and always, always trying drop the weight in my pack. (Trust me, on your 20th mile of the day, every ounce counts.)

And then, the adventure.

So, so many late night or early morning flights. I don’t think I’ve ever started a hike well-rested.

You can’t fly with fuel canisters, so there’s always a “where the hell can I get a fuel canister” panic when I get to my destination. (Legit walked 7 miles to 3 different stores in Reykjavik the night before a hike to find fuel once.)

Then, getting to the trailhead.

I’ve rented cars at the airport, dropped them off at the closest rental to the trailhead, and walked the last few miles (a pre-hike, hike.) I’ve rented a van with strangers, who after 4 hours in the car became friends, and spent the weekend hiking with them. I’ve taken busses, and, once, a ferry (sea-sick is a fun way to start a hike, let me tell you.)

There’s always some confusion as to where the hell the trail actual starts, and then, after all that…

The hike.

This is the moment, every single time, where all the chaos of travel and over-thinking falls away. This is the point where you pick up your pack– everything you need for 3-5 days right there on your back– and start walking.

I love every part of this. I love the minute the uncertainty fades away, when the map and compass and trail all line up, and I know I’m headed in the right direction. I love feeling the physical training kicking in after just a few miles on the trail, when my body responds to the hard work of carrying a pack uphill and falls into a rhythm of “hell yeah, we’ve got this.” I love when civilization and day-hikers fade away, and I’m the only person as far as the eye can see. I love that moment, when it really sets in that I’m out there, on my own, and everything I do counts. Every decision I make is vitally important to survival.

There are no takebacks on the trail. No “oops I forgot” and running to the store. But (as I learned on my first solo hike) you can’t be the nervous nelly who packs 50 pounds of gear “just in case” and expect to get anywhere either.

I’m not a person who has ever been able to relax on a beach for more than a few hours, or “shut off” from work for more than a day or two, so being out on the trail is the only time in my life when I’ve been truly able to unplug. Not because I don’t have service (I mean, that too) but because my immediate needs become paramount. Do I have enough water? Where’s the next good place to refill? Am I still on the trail? Have I consumed enough calories? Am I feeling steady on this sketchy path with a 2000 ft drop off both sides? Do I need a rest? How many miles before dark?

Have I said I love every minute of it? Because, guys, I love every minute of it. Even the minutes when I want to quit. When I realize I didn’t bring the right blister-pads for my feet and that shit is going to hurt for the next 30 miles. When my water runs low because I didn’t fill up at the last stream. When I literally fall asleep on my feet, while walking, in the middle of the day. When I’m counting every step of the last mile down a treacherous hill, swearing under my breath every time I lose my footing.

When it goes from a humid 65 degrees at sea level, to freezing rain at 4000 ft, all inside of a couple of hours.

And also when I find myself in the most beautiful places.

Because I’ll tell you this, I’ve structured my life on the farm in a way that tests me. That very often asks me to do hard things and be the best version of myself. But it doesn’t quite compare to this. Adventuring this way, out in the wilderness on my own, it isn’t just that I’m asking myself to be smart, and strong, and capable in general. It’s the immediacy of it. There is no choice but to be smart and strong and capable in this moment.

And that is an incredible feeling.

When I reflected on my life on the farm in 2018, it made me stronger, but in a way that felt disconnected from the things I love about the farm. This part of 2018 though? This made me stronger in a way that grounded me, right to the core.

from Home http://diydiva.net/2019/02/a-girl-and-her-tent/ via http://www.rssmix.com/

[prouxvaire]

A Girl and her Tent

Well, technically, it’s really a girl, her tent, and another 30 lbs of gear strapped to her back (while she hikes up a mountain) but who’s counting, really?

(Uh. I am, you guys. I am counting Every. Single. Ounce. in that pack, because those are big fucking mountains sometimes.)

Up until a couple of years ago, my most amazing life experiences– the things that really taught me to dig deep and take a hard look at who I am when shit gets tough— those experiences all happened on the farm. Or when I lived in a garage for 18 months and built a house in my spare time. Or, you know, during any one of the numerous “what the fuck were you thinking?” projects I’ve taken on over the last two decades.

I’ve documented most of those things on this website, so trust me when I say that I find it as strange as anyone that in the last year or so those amazing life experiences–the ones that have taught me to dig deep, and take a hard look at myself when shit gets tough– well, they’ve mostly happened when I leave the farm entirely. When I hike out into the wilderness where there are no projects, or power tools, or big responsibilities.

When I’m just a girl with her tent.

And I guess maybe it isn’t that surprising that after 15 years of finding bigger and crazier ways to challenge myself through house projects, that eventually I’d be so comfortable in this space that I’d start challenging myself elsewhere.

But I never would have guessed it would be camping.

I mean, previously in my life, when people suggested I might like “camping”,  they were met with, at best, polite incredulity. After all, I have all of the benefits of camping in my backyard (wide open spaces, bonfires, a beautiful view) along with a king-sized mattress and indoor plumbing just a few steps away. Sooo… camping? Hard pass. Thanks though.

You guys, I also once said, definitively, that I would never own a house because it was too much work. So, I mean, when I’m wrong, I am wrong.

But, to be fair, all of my previous experiences with tents had been in “car camping” settings, and there’s a big difference between car camping and backpacking.

For the uninitiated:

Car camping typically means sleeping in a tent at a drive-up campground that, more often than not, has tiny, cramped campsites, and at least one annoying group of kids that stays up way too late drinking beer and talking VERY LOUDLY (because I am a cranky old lady who has wicked insomnia at home, but also has a very strict bedtime when I’m in a tent. Obviously.) To be fair, I’ve actually done quite a bit of car camping in the last two years when I go outdoor climbing–enough that I have a designated car camping tent– and I’ll tolerate it (with earplugs), but I don’t love it the way I love backpacking.

Backpacking, on the other hand, means hiking out to places you cannot reach by car– which also means you have to carry, on your back, everything you need to survive— and either “dispersed camping” (i.e. pitching a tent in places where there are no designated campsites) or staying at rustic campsites that tend to be private and have basically no amenities (other than maybe a bear locker to store your food in so an actual bear doesn’t mistake your tent for a human-sized snicker bar one night.) And this, it turns out, is one of my very favorite activities.

Here’s why:

For me, there’s typically months of prepping that lead up to a hike. Prepping for the travel (finding a good trail, figuring out the best time to hike it, planning for flights or drive-time there, and figuring out how to best get to the trailhead and back.)

Then there’s the physical prep. Studying elevation maps of the trail, and making sure I’m both strong enough and have the endurance to hike 12-20 miles a day, sometimes straight up, or, worse, down hill, always carrying a ~35lb pack, occasionally with not as much oxygen as I’m used to at sea level.

I spend a lot of lunch breaks on a stairmaster with a weight vest on…

It also means prepping my gear, which entails a lot of studying the terrain, understanding the weather, putting together meals with the minimum amount of weight and maximum amount of calories, making adjustments to my gear list based on lessons learned in previous hikes, and always, always trying drop the weight in my pack. (Trust me, on your 20th mile of the day, every ounce counts.)

And then, the adventure.

So, so many late night or early morning flights. I don’t think I’ve ever started a hike well-rested.

You can’t fly with fuel canisters, so there’s always a “where the hell can I get a fuel canister” panic when I get to my destination. (Legit walked 7 miles to 3 different stores in Reykjavik the night before a hike to find fuel once.)

Then, getting to the trailhead.

I’ve rented cars at the airport, dropped them off at the closest rental to the trailhead, and walked the last few miles (a pre-hike, hike.) I’ve rented a van with strangers, who after 4 hours in the car became friends, and spent the weekend hiking with them. I’ve taken busses, and, once, a ferry (sea-sick is a fun way to start a hike, let me tell you.)

There’s always some confusion as to where the hell the trail actual starts, and then, after all that…

The hike.

This is the moment, every single time, where all the chaos of travel and over-thinking falls away. This is the point where you pick up your pack– everything you need for 3-5 days right there on your back– and start walking.

I love every part of this. I love the minute the uncertainty fades away, when the map and compass and trail all line up, and I know I’m headed in the right direction. I love feeling the physical training kicking in after just a few miles on the trail, when my body responds to the hard work of carrying a pack uphill and falls into a rhythm of “hell yeah, we’ve got this.” I love when civilization and day-hikers fade away, and I’m the only person as far as the eye can see. I love that moment, when it really sets in that I’m out there, on my own, and everything I do counts. Every decision I make is vitally important to survival.

There are no takebacks on the trail. No “oops I forgot” and running to the store. But (as I learned on my first solo hike) you can’t be the nervous nelly who packs 50 pounds of gear “just in case” and expect to get anywhere either.

I’m not a person who has ever been able to relax on a beach for more than a few hours, or “shut off” from work for more than a day or two, so being out on the trail is the only time in my life when I’ve been truly able to unplug. Not because I don’t have service (I mean, that too) but because my immediate needs become paramount. Do I have enough water? Where’s the next good place to refill? Am I still on the trail? Have I consumed enough calories? Am I feeling steady on this sketchy path with a 2000 ft drop off both sides? Do I need a rest? How many miles before dark?

Have I said I love every minute of it? Because, guys, I love every minute of it. Even the minutes when I want to quit. When I realize I didn’t bring the right blister-pads for my feet and that shit is going to hurt for the next 30 miles. When my water runs low because I didn’t fill up at the last stream. When I literally fall asleep on my feet, while walking, in the middle of the day. When I’m counting every step of the last mile down a treacherous hill, swearing under my breath every time I lose my footing.

When it goes from a humid 65 degrees at sea level, to freezing rain at 4000 ft, all inside of a couple of hours.

And also when I find myself in the most beautiful places.

Because I’ll tell you this, I’ve structured my life on the farm in a way that tests me. That very often asks me to do hard things and be the best version of myself. But it doesn’t quite compare to this. Adventuring this way, out in the wilderness on my own, it isn’t just that I’m asking myself to be smart, and strong, and capable in general. It’s the immediacy of it. There is no choice but to be smart and strong and capable in this moment.

And that is an incredible feeling.

When I reflected on my life on the farm in 2018, it made me stronger, but in a way that felt disconnected from the things I love about the farm. This part of 2018 though? This made me stronger in a way that grounded me, right to the core.

from http://bit.ly/2SrRopk

[thomasrush851]

A Girl and her Tent

Well, technically, it’s really a girl, her tent, and another 30 lbs of gear strapped to her back (while she hikes up a mountain) but who’s counting, really?

(Uh. I am, you guys. I am counting Every. Single. Ounce. in that pack, because those are big fucking mountains sometimes.)

Up until a couple of years ago, my most amazing life experiences– the things that really taught me to dig deep and take a hard look at who I am when shit gets tough— those experiences all happened on the farm. Or when I lived in a garage for 18 months and built a house in my spare time. Or, you know, during any one of the numerous “what the fuck were you thinking?” projects I’ve taken on over the last two decades.

I’ve documented most of those things on this website, so trust me when I say that I find it as strange as anyone that in the last year or so those amazing life experiences–the ones that have taught me to dig deep, and take a hard look at myself when shit gets tough– well, they’ve mostly happened when I leave the farm entirely. When I hike out into the wilderness where there are no projects, or power tools, or big responsibilities.

When I’m just a girl with her tent.

And I guess maybe it isn’t that surprising that after 15 years of finding bigger and crazier ways to challenge myself through house projects, that eventually I’d be so comfortable in this space that I’d start challenging myself elsewhere.

But I never would have guessed it would be camping.

I mean, previously in my life, when people suggested I might like “camping”,  they were met with, at best, polite incredulity. After all, I have all of the benefits of camping in my backyard (wide open spaces, bonfires, a beautiful view) along with a king-sized mattress and indoor plumbing just a few steps away. Sooo… camping? Hard pass. Thanks though.

You guys, I also once said, definitively, that I would never own a house because it was too much work. So, I mean, when I’m wrong, I am wrong.

But, to be fair, all of my previous experiences with tents had been in “car camping” settings, and there’s a big difference between car camping and backpacking.

For the uninitiated:

Car camping typically means sleeping in a tent at a drive-up campground that, more often than not, has tiny, cramped campsites, and at least one annoying group of kids that stays up way too late drinking beer and talking VERY LOUDLY (because I am a cranky old lady who has wicked insomnia at home, but also has a very strict bedtime when I’m in a tent. Obviously.) To be fair, I’ve actually done quite a bit of car camping in the last two years when I go outdoor climbing–enough that I have a designated car camping tent– and I’ll tolerate it (with earplugs), but I don’t love it the way I love backpacking.

Backpacking, on the other hand, means hiking out to places you cannot reach by car– which also means you have to carry, on your back, everything you need to survive— and either “dispersed camping” (i.e. pitching a tent in places where there are no designated campsites) or staying at rustic campsites that tend to be private and have basically no amenities (other than maybe a bear locker to store your food in so an actual bear doesn’t mistake your tent for a human-sized snicker bar one night.) And this, it turns out, is one of my very favorite activities.

Here’s why:

For me, there’s typically months of prepping that lead up to a hike. Prepping for the travel (finding a good trail, figuring out the best time to hike it, planning for flights or drive-time there, and figuring out how to best get to the trailhead and back.)

Then there’s the physical prep. Studying elevation maps of the trail, and making sure I’m both strong enough and have the endurance to hike 12-20 miles a day, sometimes straight up, or, worse, down hill, always carrying a ~35lb pack, occasionally with not as much oxygen as I’m used to at sea level.

I spend a lot of lunch breaks on a stairmaster with a weight vest on…

It also means prepping my gear, which entails a lot of studying the terrain, understanding the weather, putting together meals with the minimum amount of weight and maximum amount of calories, making adjustments to my gear list based on lessons learned in previous hikes, and always, always trying drop the weight in my pack. (Trust me, on your 20th mile of the day, every ounce counts.)

And then, the adventure.

So, so many late night or early morning flights. I don’t think I’ve ever started a hike well-rested.

You can’t fly with fuel canisters, so there’s always a “where the hell can I get a fuel canister” panic when I get to my destination. (Legit walked 7 miles to 3 different stores in Reykjavik the night before a hike to find fuel once.)

Then, getting to the trailhead.

I’ve rented cars at the airport, dropped them off at the closest rental to the trailhead, and walked the last few miles (a pre-hike, hike.) I’ve rented a van with strangers, who after 4 hours in the car became friends, and spent the weekend hiking with them. I’ve taken busses, and, once, a ferry (sea-sick is a fun way to start a hike, let me tell you.)

There’s always some confusion as to where the hell the trail actual starts, and then, after all that…

The hike.

This is the moment, every single time, where all the chaos of travel and over-thinking falls away. This is the point where you pick up your pack– everything you need for 3-5 days right there on your back– and start walking.

I love every part of this. I love the minute the uncertainty fades away, when the map and compass and trail all line up, and I know I’m headed in the right direction. I love feeling the physical training kicking in after just a few miles on the trail, when my body responds to the hard work of carrying a pack uphill and falls into a rhythm of “hell yeah, we’ve got this.” I love when civilization and day-hikers fade away, and I’m the only person as far as the eye can see. I love that moment, when it really sets in that I’m out there, on my own, and everything I do counts. Every decision I make is vitally important to survival.

There are no takebacks on the trail. No “oops I forgot” and running to the store. But (as I learned on my first solo hike) you can’t be the nervous nelly who packs 50 pounds of gear “just in case” and expect to get anywhere either.

I’m not a person who has ever been able to relax on a beach for more than a few hours, or “shut off” from work for more than a day or two, so being out on the trail is the only time in my life when I’ve been truly able to unplug. Not because I don’t have service (I mean, that too) but because my immediate needs become paramount. Do I have enough water? Where’s the next good place to refill? Am I still on the trail? Have I consumed enough calories? Am I feeling steady on this sketchy path with a 2000 ft drop off both sides? Do I need a rest? How many miles before dark?

Have I said I love every minute of it? Because, guys, I love every minute of it. Even the minutes when I want to quit. When I realize I didn’t bring the right blister-pads for my feet and that shit is going to hurt for the next 30 miles. When my water runs low because I didn’t fill up at the last stream. When I literally fall asleep on my feet, while walking, in the middle of the day. When I’m counting every step of the last mile down a treacherous hill, swearing under my breath every time I lose my footing.

When it goes from a humid 65 degrees at sea level, to freezing rain at 4000 ft, all inside of a couple of hours.

And also when I find myself in the most beautiful places.

Because I’ll tell you this, I’ve structured my life on the farm in a way that tests me. That very often asks me to do hard things and be the best version of myself. But it doesn’t quite compare to this. Adventuring this way, out in the wilderness on my own, it isn’t just that I’m asking myself to be smart, and strong, and capable in general. It’s the immediacy of it. There is no choice but to be smart and strong and capable in this moment.

And that is an incredible feeling.

When I reflected on my life on the farm in 2018, it made me stronger, but in a way that felt disconnected from the things I love about the farm. This part of 2018 though? This made me stronger in a way that grounded me, right to the core.

from Bathroom & Home http://diydiva.net/2019/02/a-girl-and-her-tent/

from A Girl and her Tent

[mrstevenbushus]

A Girl and her Tent

Well, technically, it’s really a girl, her tent, and another 30 lbs of gear strapped to her back (while she hikes up a mountain) but who’s counting, really?

(Uh. I am, you guys. I am counting Every. Single. Ounce. in that pack, because those are big fucking mountains sometimes.)

Up until a couple of years ago, my most amazing life experiences– the things that really taught me to dig deep and take a hard look at who I am when shit gets tough— those experiences all happened on the farm. Or when I lived in a garage for 18 months and built a house in my spare time. Or, you know, during any one of the numerous “what the fuck were you thinking?” projects I’ve taken on over the last two decades.

I’ve documented most of those things on this website, so trust me when I say that I find it as strange as anyone that in the last year or so those amazing life experiences–the ones that have taught me to dig deep, and take a hard look at myself when shit gets tough– well, they’ve mostly happened when I leave the farm entirely. When I hike out into the wilderness where there are no projects, or power tools, or big responsibilities.

When I’m just a girl with her tent.

And I guess maybe it isn’t that surprising that after 15 years of finding bigger and crazier ways to challenge myself through house projects, that eventually I’d be so comfortable in this space that I’d start challenging myself elsewhere.

But I never would have guessed it would be camping.

I mean, previously in my life, when people suggested I might like “camping”,  they were met with, at best, polite incredulity. After all, I have all of the benefits of camping in my backyard (wide open spaces, bonfires, a beautiful view) along with a king-sized mattress and indoor plumbing just a few steps away. Sooo… camping? Hard pass. Thanks though.

You guys, I also once said, definitively, that I would never own a house because it was too much work. So, I mean, when I’m wrong, I am wrong.

But, to be fair, all of my previous experiences with tents had been in “car camping” settings, and there’s a big difference between car camping and backpacking.

For the uninitiated:

Car camping typically means sleeping in a tent at a drive-up campground that, more often than not, has tiny, cramped campsites, and at least one annoying group of kids that stays up way too late drinking beer and talking VERY LOUDLY (because I am a cranky old lady who has wicked insomnia at home, but also has a very strict bedtime when I’m in a tent. Obviously.) To be fair, I’ve actually done quite a bit of car camping in the last two years when I go outdoor climbing–enough that I have a designated car camping tent– and I’ll tolerate it (with earplugs), but I don’t love it the way I love backpacking.

Backpacking, on the other hand, means hiking out to places you cannot reach by car– which also means you have to carry, on your back, everything you need to survive— and either “dispersed camping” (i.e. pitching a tent in places where there are no designated campsites) or staying at rustic campsites that tend to be private and have basically no amenities (other than maybe a bear locker to store your food in so an actual bear doesn’t mistake your tent for a human-sized snicker bar one night.) And this, it turns out, is one of my very favorite activities.

Here’s why:

For me, there’s typically months of prepping that lead up to a hike. Prepping for the travel (finding a good trail, figuring out the best time to hike it, planning for flights or drive-time there, and figuring out how to best get to the trailhead and back.)

Then there’s the physical prep. Studying elevation maps of the trail, and making sure I’m both strong enough and have the endurance to hike 12-20 miles a day, sometimes straight up, or, worse, down hill, always carrying a ~35lb pack, occasionally with not as much oxygen as I’m used to at sea level.

I spend a lot of lunch breaks on a stairmaster with a weight vest on…

It also means prepping my gear, which entails a lot of studying the terrain, understanding the weather, putting together meals with the minimum amount of weight and maximum amount of calories, making adjustments to my gear list based on lessons learned in previous hikes, and always, always trying drop the weight in my pack. (Trust me, on your 20th mile of the day, every ounce counts.)

And then, the adventure.

So, so many late night or early morning flights. I don’t think I’ve ever started a hike well-rested.

You can’t fly with fuel canisters, so there’s always a “where the hell can I get a fuel canister” panic when I get to my destination. (Legit walked 7 miles to 3 different stores in Reykjavik the night before a hike to find fuel once.)

Then, getting to the trailhead.

I’ve rented cars at the airport, dropped them off at the closest rental to the trailhead, and walked the last few miles (a pre-hike, hike.) I’ve rented a van with strangers, who after 4 hours in the car became friends, and spent the weekend hiking with them. I’ve taken busses, and, once, a ferry (sea-sick is a fun way to start a hike, let me tell you.)

There’s always some confusion as to where the hell the trail actual starts, and then, after all that…

The hike.

This is the moment, every single time, where all the chaos of travel and over-thinking falls away. This is the point where you pick up your pack– everything you need for 3-5 days right there on your back– and start walking.

I love every part of this. I love the minute the uncertainty fades away, when the map and compass and trail all line up, and I know I’m headed in the right direction. I love feeling the physical training kicking in after just a few miles on the trail, when my body responds to the hard work of carrying a pack uphill and falls into a rhythm of “hell yeah, we’ve got this.” I love when civilization and day-hikers fade away, and I’m the only person as far as the eye can see. I love that moment, when it really sets in that I’m out there, on my own, and everything I do counts. Every decision I make is vitally important to survival.

There are no takebacks on the trail. No “oops I forgot” and running to the store. But (as I learned on my first solo hike) you can’t be the nervous nelly who packs 50 pounds of gear “just in case” and expect to get anywhere either.

I’m not a person who has ever been able to relax on a beach for more than a few hours, or “shut off” from work for more than a day or two, so being out on the trail is the only time in my life when I’ve been truly able to unplug. Not because I don’t have service (I mean, that too) but because my immediate needs become paramount. Do I have enough water? Where’s the next good place to refill? Am I still on the trail? Have I consumed enough calories? Am I feeling steady on this sketchy path with a 2000 ft drop off both sides? Do I need a rest? How many miles before dark?

Have I said I love every minute of it? Because, guys, I love every minute of it. Even the minutes when I want to quit. When I realize I didn’t bring the right blister-pads for my feet and that shit is going to hurt for the next 30 miles. When my water runs low because I didn’t fill up at the last stream. When I literally fall asleep on my feet, while walking, in the middle of the day. When I’m counting every step of the last mile down a treacherous hill, swearing under my breath every time I lose my footing.

When it goes from a humid 65 degrees at sea level, to freezing rain at 4000 ft, all inside of a couple of hours.

And also when I find myself in the most beautiful places.

Because I’ll tell you this, I’ve structured my life on the farm in a way that tests me. That very often asks me to do hard things and be the best version of myself. But it doesn’t quite compare to this. Adventuring this way, out in the wilderness on my own, it isn’t just that I’m asking myself to be smart, and strong, and capable in general. It’s the immediacy of it. There is no choice but to be smart and strong and capable in this moment.

And that is an incredible feeling.

When I reflected on my life on the farm in 2018, it made me stronger, but in a way that felt disconnected from the things I love about the farm. This part of 2018 though? This made me stronger in a way that grounded me, right to the core.

Article reference A Girl and her Tent

[darensmurray]

A Girl and her Tent

Well, technically, it’s really a girl, her tent, and another 30 lbs of gear strapped to her back (while she hikes up a mountain) but who’s counting, really?

(Uh. I am, you guys. I am counting Every. Single. Ounce. in that pack, because those are big fucking mountains sometimes.)

Up until a couple of years ago, my most amazing life experiences– the things that really taught me to dig deep and take a hard look at who I am when shit gets tough— those experiences all happened on the farm. Or when I lived in a garage for 18 months and built a house in my spare time. Or, you know, during any one of the numerous “what the fuck were you thinking?” projects I’ve taken on over the last two decades.

I’ve documented most of those things on this website, so trust me when I say that I find it as strange as anyone that in the last year or so those amazing life experiences–the ones that have taught me to dig deep, and take a hard look at myself when shit gets tough– well, they’ve mostly happened when I leave the farm entirely. When I hike out into the wilderness where there are no projects, or power tools, or big responsibilities.

When I’m just a girl with her tent.

And I guess maybe it isn’t that surprising that after 15 years of finding bigger and crazier ways to challenge myself through house projects, that eventually I’d be so comfortable in this space that I’d start challenging myself elsewhere.

But I never would have guessed it would be camping.

I mean, previously in my life, when people suggested I might like “camping”,  they were met with, at best, polite incredulity. After all, I have all of the benefits of camping in my backyard (wide open spaces, bonfires, a beautiful view) along with a king-sized mattress and indoor plumbing just a few steps away. Sooo… camping? Hard pass. Thanks though.

You guys, I also once said, definitively, that I would never own a house because it was too much work. So, I mean, when I’m wrong, I am wrong.

But, to be fair, all of my previous experiences with tents had been in “car camping” settings, and there’s a big difference between car camping and backpacking.

For the uninitiated:

Car camping typically means sleeping in a tent at a drive-up campground that, more often than not, has tiny, cramped campsites, and at least one annoying group of kids that stays up way too late drinking beer and talking VERY LOUDLY (because I am a cranky old lady who has wicked insomnia at home, but also has a very strict bedtime when I’m in a tent. Obviously.) To be fair, I’ve actually done quite a bit of car camping in the last two years when I go outdoor climbing–enough that I have a designated car camping tent– and I’ll tolerate it (with earplugs), but I don’t love it the way I love backpacking.

Backpacking, on the other hand, means hiking out to places you cannot reach by car– which also means you have to carry, on your back, everything you need to survive— and either “dispersed camping” (i.e. pitching a tent in places where there are no designated campsites) or staying at rustic campsites that tend to be private and have basically no amenities (other than maybe a bear locker to store your food in so an actual bear doesn’t mistake your tent for a human-sized snicker bar one night.) And this, it turns out, is one of my very favorite activities.

Here’s why:

For me, there’s typically months of prepping that lead up to a hike. Prepping for the travel (finding a good trail, figuring out the best time to hike it, planning for flights or drive-time there, and figuring out how to best get to the trailhead and back.)

Then there’s the physical prep. Studying elevation maps of the trail, and making sure I’m both strong enough and have the endurance to hike 12-20 miles a day, sometimes straight up, or, worse, down hill, always carrying a ~35lb pack, occasionally with not as much oxygen as I’m used to at sea level.

I spend a lot of lunch breaks on a stairmaster with a weight vest on…

It also means prepping my gear, which entails a lot of studying the terrain, understanding the weather, putting together meals with the minimum amount of weight and maximum amount of calories, making adjustments to my gear list based on lessons learned in previous hikes, and always, always trying drop the weight in my pack. (Trust me, on your 20th mile of the day, every ounce counts.)

And then, the adventure.

So, so many late night or early morning flights. I don’t think I’ve ever started a hike well-rested.

You can’t fly with fuel canisters, so there’s always a “where the hell can I get a fuel canister” panic when I get to my destination. (Legit walked 7 miles to 3 different stores in Reykjavik the night before a hike to find fuel once.)

Then, getting to the trailhead.

I’ve rented cars at the airport, dropped them off at the closest rental to the trailhead, and walked the last few miles (a pre-hike, hike.) I’ve rented a van with strangers, who after 4 hours in the car became friends, and spent the weekend hiking with them. I’ve taken busses, and, once, a ferry (sea-sick is a fun way to start a hike, let me tell you.)

There’s always some confusion as to where the hell the trail actual starts, and then, after all that…

The hike.

This is the moment, every single time, where all the chaos of travel and over-thinking falls away. This is the point where you pick up your pack– everything you need for 3-5 days right there on your back– and start walking.

I love every part of this. I love the minute the uncertainty fades away, when the map and compass and trail all line up, and I know I’m headed in the right direction. I love feeling the physical training kicking in after just a few miles on the trail, when my body responds to the hard work of carrying a pack uphill and falls into a rhythm of “hell yeah, we’ve got this.” I love when civilization and day-hikers fade away, and I’m the only person as far as the eye can see. I love that moment, when it really sets in that I’m out there, on my own, and everything I do counts. Every decision I make is vitally important to survival.

There are no takebacks on the trail. No “oops I forgot” and running to the store. But (as I learned on my first solo hike) you can’t be the nervous nelly who packs 50 pounds of gear “just in case” and expect to get anywhere either.

I’m not a person who has ever been able to relax on a beach for more than a few hours, or “shut off” from work for more than a day or two, so being out on the trail is the only time in my life when I’ve been truly able to unplug. Not because I don’t have service (I mean, that too) but because my immediate needs become paramount. Do I have enough water? Where’s the next good place to refill? Am I still on the trail? Have I consumed enough calories? Am I feeling steady on this sketchy path with a 2000 ft drop off both sides? Do I need a rest? How many miles before dark?

Have I said I love every minute of it? Because, guys, I love every minute of it. Even the minutes when I want to quit. When I realize I didn’t bring the right blister-pads for my feet and that shit is going to hurt for the next 30 miles. When my water runs low because I didn’t fill up at the last stream. When I literally fall asleep on my feet, while walking, in the middle of the day. When I’m counting every step of the last mile down a treacherous hill, swearing under my breath every time I lose my footing.

When it goes from a humid 65 degrees at sea level, to freezing rain at 4000 ft, all inside of a couple of hours.

And also when I find myself in the most beautiful places.

Because I’ll tell you this, I’ve structured my life on the farm in a way that tests me. That very often asks me to do hard things and be the best version of myself. But it doesn’t quite compare to this. Adventuring this way, out in the wilderness on my own, it isn’t just that I’m asking myself to be smart, and strong, and capable in general. It’s the immediacy of it. There is no choice but to be smart and strong and capable in this moment.

And that is an incredible feeling.

When I reflected on my life on the farm in 2018, it made me stronger, but in a way that felt disconnected from the things I love about the farm. This part of 2018 though? This made me stronger in a way that grounded me, right to the core.

[noditchablepromdate]

Character Development

01 / BASICS

Full Name: Robert Steven Singer Nickname: Bobby Sex/Gender: Male Birthday: August 12th, 1950 Age: Around 60 (officially deceased aged 62) Astrological Sign: Leo Occupation: Mechanic, hunter Spoken Languages: English, Japanese, French Sexual Orientation: Straight Birthplace: Sioux Falls, South Dakota Relationship status: Widower

02/ PHYSICAL TRAITS

Race: Human Ethnicity: Whilte European Hair Color/Style: Brown, cut fairly short, balding; short beard and moustache Eye Color: Blue Accent: Mid-Western American, mostly Texas Height: 5′11″ Tattoos: One on his back of his wife’s name and dates of birth/death Piercings: None

03 / PERSONALITY TRAITS

Pet Peeves: Dumbass hunters, people fussing over him Hobbies/Interests: Building useful items, daytime TV Special Skills/Abilities: Very capable with magic, breaking and entering, research Likes: Rotgut whisky, a peaceful day Dislikes: Demons, hellhounds, being interrupted Insecurities: Afraid of becoming like his own father Quirks/Eccentricities: Says “Balls” or “Idjits” when annoyed or angry Strengths: Very clever, experienced researcher, good with most weapons and magic Weaknesses: Will do anything to protect his boys. Speaking Style: Blunt and to the point, though he can get very eloquent when fired up. Temperament: Cranky, short-tempered and irritable, but there’s a gruff kind of gentleness underneath.

04 / FAMILY & HOME

Family: Karen Singer (wife, deceased), Dean Winchester (adopted son), Sam Winchester (adopted son) How does he feel about his family?: Karen is the only woman he’ll ever love so deeply, and he misses her terribly. Sam and Dean are as good as his own sons, and he’d move the world for them. How does his family feel about him?: Karen loved him back just as much, and doesn’t blame him for her death. His boys consider him as good as their own father, and although they sometimes take him for granted, they’ll do anything they can to help him. Pets: He had a dog called Rumsfeld, who was killed by the demon Meg Masters. Where does he live?: At Singer Salvage Yard, in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. What is it like there?: The surrounding area has a large number of old cars piled up for use in salvage, and is otherwise generally pretty quiet, as he lives on the outskirts of a small town. Description of his home: From the outside it looks like an average kind of house for the location, a bit scruffy but reasonably maintained. On the inside, however, it’s much more interesting. The living room has piles of assorted lore books everywhere, a desk with a computer and lamp, and a sofa under the window. The kitchen looks mostly ordinary, but has a bank of labelled phones by the table and a false bottom in the knife drawer which holds assorted illegal or dangerous herbs. The ground floor also has a bathroom and a hall closet which is equipped with a lever for a trapdoor just outside. Upstairs are several rooms, mainly bedrooms, and at least one bathroom. The basement is mostly storage space, with a panic room Bobby built that is secure against ghosts and demons. Description of his bedroom: It is sparsely furnished, with a double bed, bedside drawers and a couple of wardrobes. He doesn’t spend much time here unless he’s asleep.

05/ THIS OR THAT

Introvert or Extrovert?: Bobby definitely leans towards the introvert. He’s not keen on socialising much of the time and is quite comfortable on his own. Optimist or Pessimist?: Pessimist. He’s dealt with way too much crap to look on the bright side. Leader or Follower?: He’s more likely to take the lead than to follow instructions unless he has to. Confident or Self-Conscious?: It wavers; when it comes to hunting he’s generally very confident, but in more personal matters he’s definitely less sure of himself. Cautious or Careless?: Very cautious. He doesn’t like to leap into a situation without scoping it out thoroughly first. Religious or Secular?: Secular; although he knows demons, angels and gods exist, he doesn’t profess any kind of actual faith in them and instead devotes his time to learning how to counter them. Passionate or Apathetic?: He is very passionate about things, but is extremely good at faking apathy as both a coping mechanism and a shield from others. Book Smarts or Street Smarts?: Both. Bobby is a highly educated scholar with a quick mind, but is also a survivalist from decades of hunting various creatures, from deer to demons. Compliments or Insults?: Insults. Even his most affectionate form of address is usually a gruff “Idjit” rather than anything actually nice. Pajamas or Underwear?: Pajamas if he can take the time; if he’s too tired he’ll sleep in his underwear or fully dressed.

06 / FAVORITES

Favorite Color: Blue, though he tends to wear dull colours most of the time. Favorite Clothing Style/Outfit: His usual outfit is jeans, a t-shirt or tank top, and a plaid flannel shirt, with solid work boots and a trucker’s cap. Favorite Bands/Songs/Type of Music: His favourite singer is Joni Mitchell. Favorite Movies: He hasn’t got any specific movie, but he does enjoy action films. Favorite TV Shows: Tori & Dean, the reality show. Favorite Books: He’ll read anything that contains useful lore. Favorite Foods/Drinks: He drinks whisky - cheap rotgut for the most part, but he’ll happily take something of better quality if it’s available - and has a bit of a sweet tooth, particularly for baked desserts like pies and cobbler. Favorite Sports/Sports Teams: He’s not much into sports but was quite happy to throw a ball around with Dean as a kid. Favorite Actors/Actresses: Tori from Tori & Dean. Favorite Time of Day: Morning. it’s usually the quietest and most peaceful time of day, when hunters don’t usually get themselves into trouble. Favorite Weather/Season: Autumn. Favorite Animal: He’s kinda fond of dogs. Normal dogs.

07 / MISCELLANEOUS

Fears/Superstitions: Not much scares him, though his worst fears are Hell and losing his boys. As for superstitions, he generally just pays attention to the ones he knows will actually be of use. Political Views: He pretty much ignores regular politics; they don’t mean much to him. Religion/Philosophy of Life: He’s not religious, and frankly believes all the different faiths just cause more trouble for him to have to stamp out. Allergies: None. Addictions: He’s a barely functioning alcoholic. Best/Worst School Subject: He wasn’t much of a student and didn’t really stand out or do terribly in anything. How does he get money?: His auto salvage business keeps him going, and he does occasionally get windfalls from other hunters. How is he with technology?: He can handle most things, though he struggles sometimes with the more cutting-edge stuff.